Meeting His Match (A Match Me Novel) (Entangled Lovestruck) (5 page)

Chapter Seven

“You can’t wear that.”

Caine gritted his teeth. When Addison said she wanted to look him over before he left for this date, he’d thought it was a great opportunity to see how her resolve to keep away from him was holding. He hadn’t expected her to critique him like he was about to take a girl to prom. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

“What
isn’t
wrong with it?” She waved a hand at his chest. “You look like you just came in from the office.”

“Because I did just come in front the office.”

“It’s telling her that she’s not worth the effort. That’s unacceptable.”

What was unacceptable was this little redhead playing havoc on his life. He was an idiot for not putting her on a plane home at the first available opportunity, and now he was paying the price. “This is a thousand-dollar suit.”

“Is that supposed to impress me? It’s sure as hell not going to impress Sarah Roberts.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Don’t move. I’ll figure out something.” Then she hurried up the stairs.

Stay here while she rummaged through his things? Caine didn’t think so. He followed, but at a distance, curious as to if she’d actually go into his space. By the time he reached the hallway in his wing of the house, he had his answer. How the hell did she even know where his room was?

Shelving that question for the time being, he stopped just inside the doorway to his suite. Where was… The sight of Addison bent over, her dress riding up the back of her thighs, kicked him in the chest like a draft horse. The temptation to cross the distance between them and help the hem along up over her ass, baring her to him, was nearly too much to take.

No, damn it
. He’d said he wouldn’t touch her until she kissed him first, and he damn well wasn’t going to break his word. No matter how tempting Addison was.

Oblivious, she straightened and held up a shirt he’d forgotten he had. It was what a generous man would call plum. Caine preferred purple. “Absolutely not.”

“All you wear is shades of gray.”

“There’s nothing wrong with gray.” The absurdity of defending his clothing choice wasn’t lost on him, but apparently she wasn’t going to back down.

“Maybe not, but I can already tell you what she’ll think if you show up in that. That you’re boring. Or, worse, that you think you’re Mr. Grey.”

“Who?”

She frowned. “As in
Fifty Shades of
.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Her jaw dropped. “Have you been living in a hole for the last three years? You know what, don’t bother. I already know the answer to that, but I can’t fix a lifetime’s worth of issues in a few days. So put on the damn shirt.”

Lust curled in his stomach, already fanned into being just by standing in the same room as her. He shouldn’t find her so damn hot when she was bossing him around, but Caine couldn’t help it. The exasperated look on her face was too much to resist. Holding her gaze, he started unbuttoning his shirt.

Her brown eyes went wide. “What are you doing?”

“Following orders. You told me to change my shirt.”

“Not in front of me!”

“Why not? Does it bother you?” He shrugged the shirt off. With her gaze fastened to his chest, she held out the purple shirt, angling her body away from his. He took his time pulling it on, though he had to keep reminding himself that he couldn’t follow through on the desire on her face. Not until she made the first move. His cock wasn’t listening, though. She was staring at him so intently, he could almost feel it on his skin.

His control held until she
whimpered
.

He wasn’t sure what happened. One second he was standing a few feet from her. The next he was in front of her, his hands in her hair and his mouth on hers. He wanted to taste that whimper. Addison’s hands instantly went around his back, stroking up his spine as she arched into him. Her tongue met his, the taste of her even better than he remembered. Caine pulled her tighter against him, stroking down her sides and hiking up the hem of her dress until he could cup her ass. She wore some sort of lace panties, but he couldn’t tear his mouth from hers to get a better look.

When he started backing her toward the bed, she jerked back. Not all the way back, though. Her hands didn’t leave his chest. “God, stop.”

“Why? You want me as much as I want you.”

“I don’t do this.”

“Darlin’, maybe you never have before, but you are with me.”

For some reason, that seemed to scare the shit out of her. She took another step back, wobbling a little in her heels, her hands leaving his skin almost in slow motion, until she only touched him with her fingertips, and then finally not at all. “No, I’m not doing anything.
We’re
not doing anything.” She glanced at the clock next to his bed. “And if you don’t leave now, you’re going to be late. Sarah doesn’t like to be kept waiting.” Then she was gone, leaving him with a raging hard-on and a hell of a lot of confusion.

Because she wanted him. She wouldn’t practically climb him like a tree every time he kissed her if she didn’t. It might have been quite a while since Caine had anything that could be termed a fling, but he wasn’t misreading the signals. Which left the question… Why was she fighting it so hard? Was it purely because of professional purposes, or was there something else going on?

He finished dressing while he mulled it over, and then headed for his car. Addison had thrown a fit over the Jaguar, so he’d had the Cadillac brought out. Since she didn’t appear to yell at him over how ostentatious it was, he figured it got her seal of approval. He waited until he was out of the driveway before calling his little brother. The phone barely rang twice before Brock answered, “I told her it was a bad idea, but you know how Regan is. She gets her mind set on something and it takes a brick wall and a pile of dynamite to deter her.”

“It’s fine.”

Brock was silent for a beat. “You’re taking this well—
too
well. What’s going on?”

Fuck if he knew. There was something about the woman that drove him crazy, and made him want more of her all at the same time. It didn’t make a lick of sense. “I’m not sure yet.”

“Do you want me to call Addison off? She’s a nice girl, but she gets as stubborn as Regan when her eye is on the prize. If she’s making your life a living hell—”

“She’s a pain in the ass, but I’m not ready to send her home yet. Is your wife around?”

Another beat of silence. “Sure, she’s right here.” A rustling on his end of the phone and then Regan was there, sounding entirely too chipper. “Hey, Caine. How’s the wife search going?”

He heard Brock cursing in the background and had to laugh. “You have no shame, do you?”

“Not when I’m right.”

“Are you ever wrong?”

“It’s happened once or twice. Not this time, though.”

That remained to be seen. “What’s Addison’s story?”

He could almost feel her attention sharpening. “Does it matter?”

“You sent her here, Regan. The least you can do is answer my damn question.” Because it
did
matter. There was more to the woman than the steamrolling matchmaker. He’d seen her with his nieces, seen the bittersweet expression on her face. That came from somewhere, and Addison wasn’t about to share. He wanted to know more about her, but she shut him down every time he pushed. So he’d go around her.

“She’s a hell of a matchmaker, though she doesn’t date. She was married to her high school sweetheart, but he got himself killed in Afghanistan three years in.” Regan paused. “Addison is a big believer in soul mates.”

“She’s mentioned it.”

“No, you don’t get it. She thinks each person only gets one. As far as she’s concerned, Aiden was hers and that’s all she wrote.”

Caine turned onto the street Jean Claude’s was on. “So that’s it for her? She never dated after this guy died?”

“You’re awfully curious about someone who’s down there solely to set you up with other women.”

It wouldn’t be a good idea to let Regan know just how twisted up his intentions were when it came to Addison. Hell,
he
still wasn’t sure what he intended. “We’ll talk about the fact that you sent a matchmaker down here without my permission later.”

He was about to hang up when she spoke. “Caine, you’re family now and Brock loves the hell out of you, but if you hurt Addison, I will ruin you.” The threat should have sounded dramatic and unrealistic, but the intent in her voice sent a chill down his spine. Regan meant it. If she decided she didn’t like the outcome of whatever this thing with Addison was, she’d put all her considerable resources into bringing him down. As CEO of McNeill Enterprises, he should be damn near untouchable, but he wasn’t about start placing bets when it came to Regan.

It was a good thing he had no intention of hurting Addison. “I’ll take that into consideration.”

“Caine—”

He hung up. She hadn’t given him a lot, but it was something to think about. He handed his keys to the valet and headed into the restaurant. The hostess smiled at him. “Mr. McNeill. Your date is already here. This way, please.”

He followed the hostess through an assortment of tables toward the back of the room. When he conducted business dinners, this was where he always worked. Apparently Addison had been busy meddling with the reservation just like she was meddling with the rest of his life. The woman at the corner table stood, and he got his first glimpse of her—tall and blond and as beautiful as Addison had promised.

Then Sarah Roberts opened her mouth. “You’re late.”

Christ, it was going to be a long date.

…

Addison paced in what had quickly become her working room in Caine’s house. It was a sitting room with comfortable floral chairs and wispy lace curtains that gave a perfect view of the driveway. She could all too easily imagine Southern ladies lounging here, sipping tea and gossiping.

He’d been gone only an hour, but that was plenty of time to mentally flog herself. What was she thinking, letting him kiss her again? As soon as he touched her, she should have shoved him on his ass and coldly informed him that she wasn’t interested. Not clung to him like she couldn’t get enough. Because that’s what it’d felt like—she was starving and he was a giant banquet laid out in her honor.

Caine wasn’t hers. It didn’t matter how good it felt when he touched her, or how painfully perfect his body was. He belonged to his soul mate, and that wasn’t Addison.

Was it Sarah Roberts?

She turned another circuit. Sarah very well could be. She was successful and cultured and brought a lot to the table. Would Caine kiss her the same way he’d kissed Addison? Would he run those big hands down her back and cup her ass so he could grind himself against her? Would he…

“Gah!” She kicked off her heels. “This isn’t doing anything but driving me crazy.”

Needing a distraction, she worked her way through the halls until she found the room she’d spied during her earlier exploration. It was dominated by an immaculate baby grand, and it had been calling to her since she discovered it. She traced a single finger over the keys, but her nerves were strung too tightly to sit down and play anything.

Her phone rang and she startled so badly, she almost dropped it. Maybe there was some emergency back in NYC that would get her mind off the emergency this situation down here had become. There had to be
some
kind of fire she was required to put out so she wouldn’t have to think about his hands on Sarah. “Addison St. Claire.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Her knees buckled at the sound of Caine growling in her ear and she dropped onto the love seat.
Get it together.
She cleared her throat. “What?”

“You must be mad at me. That’s the only logical conclusion as to why you’d force me on a date with this woman.”

That
got her head in the game. “Where is she?” Was he saying this right in front of Sarah? She wouldn’t put it past him. Sarah would never forgive her for witnessing her humiliation.

“In the bathroom. Christ, darlin’, I’m not a total dickwad.”

Thank God. That worry out of the way, she could focus on the next problem. “Why the hell are you calling me in the middle of your date?”

“Because it’s a disaster. She’s a— Shit, she’s back.” And then the bastard hung up.

Addison stared at her phone. She looked at Gollum, who had taken up a spot safely out of the path of her pacing. “He hung up on me.” And worse, he’d called her in the middle of the date. She ignored the tiny trickle of relief at knowing the date was going horribly, and focused on what the next step had to be, because the only other option was to drive down there and smack some sense into him. Work. Yes, work was the answer. She flipped through her list of potential matches, but it was impossible to pick the next one without knowing what had gone wrong with Sarah.

She’d just started pacing again when her phone rang again. She slid her thumb to answer it. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Addison?”

Her stomach dropped. It wasn’t Caine. No, there was only one perfectly distinguished woman who’d be calling her right now. She took a deep breath and tried to force some cheer into her voice. “Sarah?”

“Addison, what were you thinking making me come all this way for that man? He’s horrid.”

She might have said something very similar recently, but she couldn’t stop herself from defending him. “He’s nearly exactly what you asked for, Sarah. The only aspect of your list that he didn’t fit was his location.”

“That might be so, but he was so dreadfully
dull
. All we did was talk business. If I wanted to talk business, I could have stayed in New York and talked to the countless men I work with.”