When I’m With You (Indigo) (11 page)

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Authors: Laconnie Taylor Jones

BOOK: When I’m With You (Indigo)
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Alex sleepily yawned into the phone. “Look, B, I don’t do favors at this hour of the morning. But if I did, what is it?”

Marcel shared with Alex everything Caitlyn had told him about Cole except the rape. That fact was a private matter between him and Caitlyn, and he vowed he’d go to his grave with it remaining that way.

“Shit.”

“My sentiments exactly. I want to know where that bastard is at all times, and make sure he isn’t on her trail. Come to think of it, run a background check on him.” To Marcel’s way of thinking, knowing Cole’s whereabouts and what he’d done since birth wasn’t going back on his word to Caitlyn. He’d promised her he wouldn’t go after him.

“All right.”

“Listen, partner, I also need you to check out who’s behind this bidding war for the new dealership.”

“Easy enough. Anything else?”

“Yeah. See if you can locate Caitlyn’s father while you’re out there searching. Swing by the office in the morning, and I’ll give you the information you need.”

“No problem. What time you getting in?”

“Let’s do eight.”

Alex yawned again. “Make it nine, will ya?”

“All right. See you then. By the way, Robinson, all of this is a priority.”

Alex chuckled. “Oh, don’t worry. When you get my bill, you’ll know it was priority status. Listen, B, your first two requests are a cakewalk. As for Caitlyn’s dad, if he’s still alive, I’ll find him.”

“I know. That’s the reason I called you.”

Marcel disconnected the call and smiled as he reclined on the bed.

His plan for Caitlyn was simple: gain her trust and make her fall in love with him.

He just hoped he didn’t lose his mind in the process.

* * *

 

Over the next few weeks, never once did Marcel move their relationship beyond that with which Caitlyn felt comfortable. The more she thought about it, the last time Marcel had touched her was at his home the night she told him about the rape. Since then, he hadn’t even kissed her. She knew what she felt for him was more than lust and whenever she hinted that she wouldn’t mind moving their relationship to the next level, he would simply smile and tell her she was worth the wait. She was at her wit’s end, though. If he’d deliberately set out to torture her with his hands-off policy, he’d succeed. Marcel had awakened a sexuality she didn’t know existed and brought to the forefront a passion she hadn’t known. The sensuality she’d long ago buried set off a spark that she wanted to burst into flames.

Despite the non-physical contact between them, he’d made her feel sexy, desirable, and most definitely wanted by him. However, Marcel held his emotions in check with such rigidity she wondered if he was made of steel.

But did she trust him? She sighed because she knew she didn’t, not yet at least.

All week, she’d looked forward to their dinner in San Francisco. With her confidence fully in control, she smiled. She planned to break through the no-touch barrier he’d erected between them. She wanted to be held, touched and kissed by him. She wanted to push him to the edge and make him lose control. She’d lost hers days ago.

She spent an extraordinary amount of time with her appearance, wanting everything to be perfect. Since it was late summer, she opted against pantyhose with her knee-length black wrap dress, which showed off her curvy body. She’d wet-set her hair, and it fell in a wavy mass to the top of her shoulders. The elegant evening sandals showcased her red toenails, and the diamond toe ring on her left foot sparkled.

When the bell rang, Caitlyn opened the door but wasn’t prepared for what she saw. Her gaze roved appreciatively over the man who stood in front of her looking like a model straight off the cover of
GQ
magazine.

A black tailor-made, double-breasted suit fitted Marcel’s well-toned physique to perfection. The black-and-white horizontal-stripped shirt had a contrasting white collar and French cuffs adorned with sterling crescent-shaped cufflinks and a purple silk necktie. The designer belt and black Italian leather slip-on loafers completed his ensemble.

Caitlyn’s lips parted at the sight of him, and she ran her tongue seductively over them. “Almost ready. I just need to grab my purse and a jacket.”

Marcel dropped his keys and stuttered whatever he was trying to say.

She playfully scolded. “Aren’t you listening? I said I’m ready.”

He was still stuttering his words as he followed her out the door.

* * *

 

Maharani, one of San Francisco’s finest restaurants, was touted not only for its excellent cuisine, but also for its private dining experience in the romantic Fantasy Room.

After dinner, Marcel propped his back next to a plush pillow and rested his weight on one elbow. A smile touched his lips. “I hope you enjoyed dinner.”

“I did.” Caitlyn shifted to face him and a frown creased her brow. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Ask away.”

“Are you deliberately holding back with our relationship?”

He met her gaze with a level stare. It was killing him not to touch her, but it was all part of his plan. She needed to know without a shred of doubt he didn’t want their relationship to be based solely on a physical need for each other. Plus, he wouldn’t accept anything less than her total trust in him. “Do you think I am?”

“Yes.” She hated when someone answered a question with a question. For a long moment she stared at him. “You’re torturing me on purpose, aren’t you?”

“Torture you? Never.” He smiled. “The only thing I’m doing is treating a woman the way she deserves to be treated.”

“The way things have been going, it seems like we’re just…”

“Just what, kitten?”

“Friends.”

“I wouldn’t exactly say we’re friends.”

“Then exactly what are we?”

“I’d say two people who are still getting to know each other.” He lifted a glass of wine to his lips. “Do you trust me yet?”

She lowered her head for a moment before she looked back up at him and shook her head.

He nodded with a wicked grin. “Well, I guess my work is cut out for me then.”

Sighing, Caitlyn rested against the pillow. Now she got it. All of this was a clever plan he’d come up with to make her trust him. Irritated that she hadn’t penetrated his rigid control, she cut him a sideways glance. He gave her one of the sexiest smiles she’d ever seen. Sighing in exasperation, she folded her arms across her chest and blew out a hard breath.

She’d already known this man was arrogant and stubborn, but she’d just found out something else about him.

He played hardball.

* * *

 

“Just got word that BF Automotive has countered our bid.” Louis, the car dealership CEO from New York spoke in a low, frosty tone.

Antonio shook his head in disbelief. “Let it go, will you?”

“I want that dealership.”

Antonio bunched his brows together. “Why? It’s just business, right?”

“Wrong. Some things are business. Some things are personal. This is personal.”

Antonio threw his hands in the air. “Fine. Do what you want. I’m out of here.”

Louis stared at the closed door and shook with rage. He’d waited a long time for revenge—thirty-seven and a half years to be exact. And for each year he’d waited, his hate for Alcee Baptiste had intensified. He’d wasted five years of his life sitting in a prison cell, all because of Alcee, and he wanted more than revenge. He wanted total annihilation. Getting his hands on the dealership was just the beginning. He didn’t care what he had to do, but he’d see every one of the Baptistes roast in hell before he was finished.

* * *

 

The mood was relaxed and the red glow of the sunset streaked across the western horizon. Caitlyn stretched out on her back, her stomach too full to care what happened next. On Thursday, Marcel had invited her to a Saturday picnic, and she figured they would hang out together at a park. Never in her wildest dream did she think he’d create such a fantastic atmosphere right in his own backyard with all of her favorite foods.

“You barely ate a thing.” Marcel dropped down on the blanket next to Caitlyn. “No wonder you’re so tiny.” He chuckled. “Do you even weigh a hundred pounds?”

The only body part on her that moved was her eyes when she glanced up at him. “I’ll have you to know I weigh a hundred and one.” She sighed with contentment, then rolled to her side. “This day has been wonderful, Marcel. Thank you for making it so special.”

“Thank you. It’s been a long time since I’ve taken the time to enjoy a picnic.”

“Why?”

He reclined on his side and leaned on his elbow. His eyes roamed over her face to capture every facet of her beauty. “Working too hard, I suppose.”

“Have you always headed BF Automotive?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “Actually, heading the business was something I never planned to do. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always tinkered around with cars. You should have seen my room growing up. It was filled with every model car I could put together.”

“So what did you do before you went to work for BF Automotive?”

“After I got my degree in mechanical engineering, I went to work as a design engineer for BMW.”

She plucked a blade of grass. “Why did you quit?”

“Pop was able to snag up two more dealerships and business took off. We talked it over one day and knew we could take the company to the next level if we put our minds to it. So, a couple of months later, I resigned, went to Harvard and got my MBA, and the rest, as they say, is history.”

She rolled onto her belly and braced her hands under her chin. Three months ago, no one in the world could have ever made her believe she would feel this way. “Marcel.”

“Yes, kitten.” He sat up and stared at her, watching her breasts rise and fall beneath the semi-sheer beige tank top. His gaze shifted to the thin sheen of perspiration along her top lip and he ached to lick it away. The tiny flickers of fear he’d seen in her eyes when they first met was gone. In their place was peace.

“I trust you.”

He released a long breath through his nose and his smile mellowed as his voice dipped. “I hold on to what’s mine.”

“Am I yours?” She looked up to study him and plucked another bland of grass to keep from reaching out and touching his face. He had her on the verge of begging. She felt as if she were a stick of wax about to melt from his compelling gaze, even though the temperature was in the mid-sixties. She wanted to be possessed by him. Every day, she found herself wanting to be totally and completely dominated by his gentleness and protection.

“Yes.” He allowed his gaze to burn her again before he scooted forward. His fingers traced a lazy pattern on top of her hand. “There’s something you need to know.”

“What’s that?”

“There’s no turning back.”

Her fingers grazed the edge of his. She nearly gasped when his finger slid and slowly traced a lazy pattern up and down her arm. She shuddered and her nipples strained against her top. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips in reflex. Her heart pounded wildly with anticipation. “That’s good because I don’t want to go back”

That’s what he’d longed to hear all these weeks. Finally, she trusted him. Now he was on to phase two: getting her to fall in love with him. And he knew he was close. The way she had responded to his touch had almost sent him over the edge. He returned his gaze slowly to her face, studying the movement in her throat. Her lush mouth parted and her nostrils flared, just at the edges. Those slanted, brown eyes were nearly shut. He moved in for the kill. “Heads up. I’ve been courting you until now. But every chance I get from now on, I plan to seduce you. If it’s too soon, tell me now.”

His gray-green eyes were almost closed and his breathing labored. She indulged in a slow glance down his body and watched his stomach tense when her gaze swept below his waist. As his palm moved leisurely across hers, the thick muscles in his arm bulged and her desire for him produced sheer delirium.

She uttered her answer as a hoarse whisper. “Permission granted.”

Chapter 8

In addition to his commitment to fund the co-op program, Marcel offered to help Caitlyn out on Saturdays as a volunteer. Since it was his first time meeting the group, he wasn’t quite sure what to expect and decided to follow her lead.

“Everyone, I’d like to introduce Mr. Marcel Baptiste.” Caitlyn walked into the room, her gaze scanning the group of teenagers assembled. “He’s agreed to help us out.”

The youth ranged from fourteen to seventeen and gave Marcel the once-over from head to toe.

“Uh, yo there, Mr. B, that there your lady?” The question was from a boy named Jamal who nodded at Caitlyn.

You’re damn straight she’s my lady,
Marcel thought. “Ms. Thompson and I are business associates, and she said you guys could use—”

“Yeah, yeah, we done heard that before.” The curt outburst was from a girl who sat on the back row.

During the rounds of high-fives and sarcastic laughter, Caitlyn walked between the chairs and looked directly at the one who’d made the comment.

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