not three times, but six fucking times? Sure, some might think him a cynic, but with the divorce rate in the US as high as forty to fifty percent, he figured he was more a realist.
His middle sister, Rachel, constantly told him he’d simply never been in love, had never felt that intense draw to another person. During one heated argument, Rachel called him a cynic. He’d disagreed and demanded she get back to her studies. With a smile and a hug, of course. She did, but still would occasionally whisper, “cynic” when she knew he could hear.
He took his beer and started to head out on the balcony, only to stop when the intercom buzzed. He activated it. “Yes?”
Nolan, his doorman, said, “Sir, Miss Michal is on her way up.”
Branden’s heart beat double time and the burn of disappointment and resignation that had set heavy in his chest turned into an inferno of anticipation. “Thanks, Nolan.”
He opened his front door just as the elevator down the hall slid open, slowly revealing Cara to him.
She was looking at him with those wide blue eyes of hers and he wasn’t sure if it was fear or anger or determination he saw there. Cara had made it clear she didn’t want to sleep with someone she worked for. The fact she was here, even with the worries the Deets photo and that video had caused her, meant she was as obsessed with him as he was with her. He was glad. He’d never felt the things he felt for her with another woman. Like she was somehow essential to his well-being. Like it wouldn’t matter how rich he was. How close to his siblings. How successful. If he didn’t have her by his side, in his life, he’d be an empty shell.
Given his musings about commitment just moments before, that was a problem. But it wasn’t one he was going to dwell on now.
“I’m glad you decided to come.”
She stepped off the elevator and walked toward him. Her movements and the look in her eyes were that of a skittish animal, and he willed the elevator doors to close quicker behind her. He was afraid she was about to run out on him. So he waited. Held still. And hoped she didn’t turn and punch the down button.
She stepped past him and inside.
He shut the door, then helped her remove her suit jacket, placing it on a hanger in the hall closet before turning around and saying, “I’m sorry. You missed dinner. I thought you weren’t coming, so I ate without you. But I could rustle up something if you’d like. And I can certainly offer you a drink.”
For a few moments she glanced around the room, looking everywhere but at him, then finally settled down, meeting his gaze. “I wasn’t going to come.”
And it hit him, hard and warm in the chest. She wasn’t talking about a dinner date. “What changed your mind?”
Dropping her gaze, she cleared her throat. “I’m not sure you want to know.”
He reached out and placed a finger under her chin, pulling her head up until she again met his gaze. “Tell me.”
A deep sigh sent her chest rising, then tension seemed to ebb from her. She nodded. “Fine. But I don’t want you to do anything about it. Promise?”
Yeah, right. How many times had he heard that line from one of his stepsiblings? They’d always ended up loving it when he beat the crap out of whomever was bullying them. He slid his hand down the column to her neck and the flirty bow on her blouse. He toyed with it for a few seconds, then slid his hand across her shoulder and down her arm, finally stopping to hook his pinky with hers. “I promise not to do anything unless it’s absolutely necessary.”
A smile ghosted across her lips as she stared at their joined fingers. “A few men got in the elevator at D&M with me.”
“And?” he prodded, but he could see where this was going.
“And they made references to the video. Referred to a ‘mutual friend’ who told them about it, and I can only assume they meant Greg. They tried to do the male-dominance thing and make me feel like I was the size of an ant. And worth as much as a bread crumb.”
Anger tore at him, churning in his gut. Cara didn’t deserve any of this. As a self-made businessman, he’d grown used to the rumors and innuendoes and paid a