The Mistresses Collection. Оливия Гейтс
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СКАЧАТЬ be here—even if they weren’t going to be touching—put something at ease within him.

      ‘Well you must get to the Met,’ Peggy was saying in her inimitable, authoritative way. ‘The opera costumes are works of art. You have to see the detail up close to believe it. If you’d like I could put in a call, get you in there—backstage?’

      Caitlin’s blush was fiery, her eyes alight with excitement. ‘Really?’

      ‘It would be a pleasure. You could spend the day. Are you in New York for long?’

      ‘A month.’

      ‘Then you can spend two days,’ Peggy declared. ‘Now tell me what you thought of that Shakespeare set.’

      James took a step back as Caitlin and Peggy leaned in together, fully engaged in the conversation. He felt as if his tie had been tightened, his whole chest constricted. The reminder of Caitlin’s length of stay grated.

      He watched her holding court with two women now, talking costumes and sets and fashion. Getting info, displaying her knowledge. Talking about some of the things she’d seen already. With him. He felt like interrupting and pointing that irrelevant fact out.

      Well, hell, was he feeling left out of the conversation like some petulant child?

      Impossible. He never felt left out. Because, he realised, he never really felt in.

      He spent months of his life living in cramped quarters but he’d always been able to maintain a sense of isolation. Some degree of privacy—even if it was just within the confines of his sleep roll and a mosquito net. To be sharing a bed, bathroom, and his body with Caitlin, there was no degree of separation. Right now his life was incredibly intertwined with hers. They were involved with everything together—their every waking and sleeping moments. He shook his head. He couldn’t be fretting about losing that intensity, could he? It wasn’t real—it was just a holiday fling after all. Yet the thought of her spending the day without him—seeing those treasures without him?

      Lord, he was tragic. He needed to push back and find some distance for himself. Some perspective. One of James’ medical colleagues walked by and James collared him in relief.

      ‘How long are you in town?’ the doctor asked.

      ‘Couple weeks,’ James answered. ‘Getting restless actually. If you need a hand with any tight shifts...’ The guy worked at the hospital that James occasionally locumed in when in between assignments.

      ‘You’re kidding. You’re offering to come and work?’

      James nodded. Work was good. Consistent. Easy in terms of its emotional demands—he knew how to manage those. It wore him out—but not in a bad way. It didn’t leave him unsettled. How the hell could a holiday leave him this unsettled?

      ‘You never want time off?’

      He wasn’t sure he did. He hadn’t had time off in so long and these few days with Caitlin... He wasn’t sure how he felt—whether it was too much already or not enough. So he fudged answering, talked work for a while, then got talking sport, then back to business again with Lisbet when she arrived. He reminded her, and himself, that he was ready to go back to work whenever she needed him to. And he was, right?

      Ready.

      In the meantime Caitlin and Peggy and who knew who else kept chatting. He kept half an eye on her but she was fully engaged. For ages. He was almost angry by the time Caitlin turned back to him as Peggy walked away to speak with someone else. She took one look at his face and her brows lifted.

      ‘You spent hours talking to her,’ he whispered in her ear as he handed her a fresh glass of champagne.

      ‘What?’ she answered back sassily. ‘You missed me?’

      Part of him sure had. And it wasn’t the obvious. And there was the problem.

      Caitlin kept stealing surreptitious glances at James as they chatted to various people for the next hour or so. He was very smooth, very polite, maintaining conversation on all kinds of topics. Yet she sensed his mind wasn’t fully focused on the event at all. That inside, he was thinking about something else altogether. And for once she didn’t think that something else was sex. Indeed, despite the impression she had that he didn’t really want to be there, she didn’t feel as if he was champing at the bit to leave either. She’d been thrilled at the possibility of getting in backstage at the theatre, but what she’d overheard now overshadowed that. Was he over them already? Was that why he’d offered to work at the hospital? Was he ready to fling their fling?

      She smiled, she chatted. She tried not to care.

      Back at the condo he sat down on the edge of the bed with a sigh.

      ‘You’re tired?’ she asked blandly, still trying not to care.

      He didn’t answer. Just sent her a killer, heated look. His eyes black, his thoughts clearly back to carnal.

      Oh. My. The coldness within Caitlin melted. Heat surged violently through her veins.

      ‘No kissing? No dancing?’ He growled. ‘You almost killed me.’

      ‘You want me to make it up to you?’ She straddled his lap, her knees sinking into the mattress on either side of him. He put his hands firmly on her waist. She inhaled deeply as she felt his strong thighs shift beneath her. Definitely not tired.

      The intensity of his expression didn’t lessen. He looked fierce, almost angry.

      ‘What are you thinking about?’ She cupped his jaw, running the pad of her thumb over his lips.

      His tongue chased her thumb and he groaned as he caught a small lick. ‘That this holiday is unreal.’

      Unreal? Was that good or bad? She chose not to ask, but to tease instead. They did tease so well. She pulled her hand free, dropping it to her hip. ‘Yet you offered to do some shifts at the hospital.’

      His breathing hitched. ‘You heard that?’

      ‘Why do you want to work?’

      He shrugged but she’d felt his initial flinch.

      ‘I might as well do something useful,’ he said.

      ‘You do something useful all the rest of the time. You’re allowed a holiday.’ She walked her fingers up his chest. ‘You need a holiday. Otherwise you’ll get burned out.’

      ‘Are you concerned for my welfare?’ He was smiling, but there was an underlying note of something in the softly asked question. A warning? An edge. As if he was wondering what business was it of hers?

      Time to back-pedal. ‘No,’ she said. ‘My concern is that if you start putting all your energy into work, what’s going to be left for me?’

      Her words pulled a low laugh from him and he leaned forward, sliding his hand on her back to draw her closer. ‘You don’t need to worry. I think I can still manage to turn you on.’

      She pressed her palm to his chest, stopping him from bringing her close enough to kiss. ‘You only “think”?’

      ‘I СКАЧАТЬ