Filthy Rich Alpha - Virna DePaul Page 0,58

kiss and tell,” Cara told her primly. “But just between you and me, I have never been so satisfied.”

During Cara’s walk to the penthouse, they caught up on the events of the last few days, then hung up with the promise of getting together for lunch one day in the upcoming week.

Nolan greeted Cara and called the elevator down for her. When the doors slid open on the top floor, she looked at the wall that had already been completely repaired. She shuddered. Just the idea of someone watching her… She had to force herself to shake off the uneasy sensation as she went through the dark apartment, switching on lights and checking in corners. Alex swept the corridor and the penthouse daily, but still. When she was confident there was no one about, she took a quick shower, dressed in a comfy nightshirt, and explored Branden’s DVD collection.

Eclectic, like the man. Pink Floyd’s The Wall, romantic comedies from the 1940s like The Philadelphia Story, some Federico Fellini and François Truffaut films, and Caddyshack. She moved from the DVDs to take in his bookshelf. Again, the man’s possessions showed diverse taste. Antique first editions were nestled next to recent best-sellers. Everything from Euripides to Dickens, Lauren Hildenbrand to a dog-eared copy of the first Harry Potter book, in paperback. She pulled out a copy of a book on shunga—Japanese erotic woodcut art images—that she’d noticed tucked away in a dark recess of the bookshelf, and went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

And to fantasize about doing some of the sexual positions with Branden.

Because if she wasn’t leaving this situation with him right away, she’d enjoy the hell out of the time they had left to be together. Who knew how long things would last? For now, she was content to be surrounded by him, immersed in him. But she vowed the minute she felt her heart give way…the minute she felt that dumb little flutter girls always talked about when they started to fall in love, she’d bolt. Branden Duke’s reputation was that he wasn’t a forever kind of guy…and she’d never be a forever kind of girl.

She just had to keep reminding herself of that.

Branden liked the image of Cara standing in his kitchen wearing only a nightshirt that came down to just below her knees. The light from the buildings outside shone just enough through the blinds to cast her in a luminous glow. She had a cup of tea by her elbow and her nose buried in a book perched on the counter. The teakettle was on a back burner, the flame underneath adding a warm, luminescent light.

“Honey, I’m home,” he called out.

She gasped and slapped the book shut, then turned and grinned at him. “Cheesy, but cute. How was work?”

“Fine.” More than fine, actually. He’d received an update from Alex that he’d found Davies, complete with straw hat and loud, ugly Hawaiian shirt, in Punta Cana. Alex had tailed him to a meeting with two men, whom Alex had dubbed Dreadlocks and Surfer Dude because of their distinct appearances, and then followed the other men after they’d left Davies. To no one’s surprise, they’d headed straight to the bank where they’d visited the deposit box area. Last he’d heard, Alex was going to attempt to make contact with the men in order to determine the nature of their business with Davies. He’d jokingly told Branden that if he had to light a joint or two to make them talk, he was up for the sacrifice.

Branden set down the briefcase he’d been carrying and walked toward Cara. “What are you reading?”

Even under the pale light, her cheeks turned a little pink. “Um…something I found on your bookcase.”

With a fingertip, he spun the book around so he could see the cover. Then smiled wide. No wonder she’d blushed. “See anything you want to try out?”

She gasped when he slid a hand up her thigh and shoved the nightshirt up to her hips. “I—I…”

“Tell me,” he demanded, stroking the side of her very naked hip with his palm, aware at how she undulated under him. How she leaned toward him, as if craving his touch. “Tell me, or I’ll step back.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said, although the word came out almost strangled.

He cocked a brow and gazed down on her. “I would. Now tell me.”

“The one where the man is looking at the woman’s…”

Oh yeah, he knew exactly which woodcut she’d been aroused by. And he’d

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