Bound to You (15 page)

The dark red box was bigger than a ring box, that was for sure. Did I really want to open it, though, after all the things he'd said to me?

Intensity filled every feature of his face. His expression was similar to one he'd had at the bar, but this time the sharp edges along his strong chin were softer.

“Open it,” he said.

I looked up at him again. He didn't blink once.

I pulled the top off the box to reveal two brand-new leather cuffs. I couldn't resist touching them. Virgin light brown leather, soft as unmarred skin, with buckles and O rings made from fourteen-karat gold. I'd never felt anything smoother than the fleece lining on the inside.

“What's this?” I whispered.

Then I saw it. On the outside of each cuff were two initials, printed so tiny I had to squint:
X.Q.

His mark.

I bit my lower lip, unsure of what to say.

I finally asked, “They're beautiful, but why did you do this?”

“It's a gift.”

From a man who always said what he meant, this vague explanation grated my nerves. “Why did you…” I reached for the words. “Why are your initials on these?”

“Because I want you to be mine.” His eyebrows lowered.
“I don't share.”

Hearing those words felt wonderful, but he shouldn't have done this. When Sato had given me my current pair of leather cuffs, there had been no pomp or circumstance. No formal collaring ceremony to tie me to him as his submissive. I was just a girl who got a pair of cuffs. Now here I was standing in front of Xavier Quinn, getting the same treatment.

This man would be here today and most likely gone in the next. I had no reason to accept this.

Finding the right words made my throat dry. “We're not a couple. Why brand me as yours if you don't want a relationship?”

“It's just a gift.”

No man puts his initials on a
gift
.

I put the cover over the box, effectively closing the subject. “Then thank you.” I glanced at my watch.

“You don't like them?” He sounded surprised.

“They're beautiful, but I can't wear these right now.”

He stiffened and a stone wall fell between us. I briefly caught his hurt expression.

“Well, if we want to get there on time, we should leave now,” he said a bit stiffly.

I nodded, unable to keep the harsh feeling from my stomach that no matter how much I didn't want to accept his gift, I'd done something very wrong. As we left my apartment, I suspected I'd never want anything from him again.

Guilt continued to weigh down my stomach as we entered a restaurant off the bay. Was he still hurt?

During the whole trip, he walked beside me, but a barrier had risen. Where before he'd placed his hand on the middle of my back, he didn't do that now. When we reached the table, with place settings for four, he did pull out my chair for me, but he didn't lean close to me.

So he was disappointed I wouldn't wear them.
Tough.
Our arrangement worked if two people agreed to maintain the boundaries. He'd crossed that boundary the moment he gave me those cuffs.

But they are pretty,
I admitted to myself.
Would they be comfortable?

I pushed those thoughts aside as Xavier took a seat beside me and didn't speak.

The waiter arrived and Xavier ordered a bottle of wine for us. Silence weighed heavily, even with all the diners around us having lively conversations. He was close enough to touch me if he only moved his right hand a few inches.

Just a few inches separated us, but it seemed like so much more.

I laughed a bit at the irony.

“What's so funny?” he finally asked me.

“This was all supposed to be easy, or maybe I thought it would be. We'd satisfy each other's needs during your time here.” I shrugged. Things had become complicated. “And once you secured the contract, you and I would move on. You to Arizona and me to London.”

There, I said it.
London seemed like the right decision at this point. What would keep me here in Boston other than my friends?

“Why London?” He placed his hand on his knee. If that hand was on my knee, he would be rubbing my flesh with the promise he'd go upward if I parted my thighs.

“My best friend—you remember me mentioning Carlie, right?”

He nodded.

“She's so strong. One of the strongest people I know, but she has a weakness that makes me want to protect her.” Just thinking about that tiny studio apartment I'd had with Carlie brought back feelings I liked to push away. “Things happened between us when we both were weak and she had to be the strong one. Now things have reversed. We've been friends for a long time and we take care of each other.”

“Sounds like you two have quite a history.”

“On my dark days, I feel like I'm wearing a mask. Like I'm showing everyone the Sophie I want them to see. When things get tough I crumble, but Carlie doesn't. Things have to be
really
bad for her to ask for help. Now that she needs it, I'd do anything to protect her.”

He nodded and reached out to touch my hand, only to pull away when two people approached us. I wiped away the tear that threatened to slip down my cheek.

The resemblance between the man and Xavier was apparent in their strong noses and chins. Compared to Xavier's assured walk, this man's approach was far more reserved. He had a slightly receding hairline and his eyebrows were a bit bushier. The woman beside him was refined, typical of the wives married to affluent men: the salon-styled hair, the virginal hands with manicured nails, the clothes that were conservative, yet expensive, to show wealth and status.

She took one look at me and a slight grin tilted her lips.

Xavier stood and shook his brother's hand. No hug between them. Maybe they'd recently seen each other.

“You look good,” the man said.

Xavier turned to me and introduced me to Marcus and his wife Becca.

I stood, prepared to take Becca's hand, but she scooted out her chair and took a seat, eluding that formality. Well, that spoke volumes about what I should expect. I'd handled people like her before, so I also took my seat and added a smile to my face.

“We were stuck in traffic for a while,” Marcus groaned as they both shared a laugh.

“You always hated being late,” Xavier said.

“No, Dad always hated when we were late,” Marcus replied.

While they spoke, Marcus's wife beckoned the waiter over and ordered a bottle of wine for them. She said, and I quote, “I'd like something much
better
than what we have here.”

Not one to be intimidated, I spoke to her. “Xavier and Marcus look so alike. Do all their siblings look so similar?”

“I doubt it. Their sister is a girl.” She tilted her head as if I was a child misunderstanding the world.

How cute.

“I'm sure they're all attractive is what I meant. Have you been to Boston before?” I'd kill her with kindness. She'd suffer a coronary from it.

“Countless times. I hate Boston in the springtime. Any time of the year, actually.”

Marcus exchanged a glance with Xavier. One of exasperation. “I thought you liked it here. You always begged me to bring you here for the marathon back when you ran.”

“Well, I can't run anymore, so what does it matter?”

Marcus held in an obvious sigh.

“You wanted to come to Boston, so I came with you. What more do you want?”

The tension between these two was about as thick as it was between Xavier and myself. Although I had to admit that at least I wouldn't pull that kind of mess in front of strangers.

“I want us to get along. The kids don't need to see us like this.”

Xavier quickly interjected. “So how are my nieces and nephew?”

“They're driving my wife crazy. They all have a camp of some kind. Hayley has ballet camp, Heather has camp for orchestra, and Mom is spoiling Regan and convinced us to let him go to Hawaii for a camp for marine wildlife studies.”

Xavier chuckled, although it sounded reserved. “That sounds like Mom. Always doing what she wants.”

“Has she contacted you about her birthday party?” Becca asked.

Xavier rubbed his chin with his left hand. I saw him clench his right.

“I've always had other engagements. Why invite the family pariah when I have other things to do?”

“It doesn't have to be that way,” Becca said, her tone turning harsh. “I've been a part of this family since you left college. You're about as stubborn as your mother.”

Xavier's jaw twitched. His hand gripped his thigh hard enough for his knuckles to go white. I reached out with my left and touched his until he eased up.

“Seems like his stubborn streak has done him well. From what I hear, Xavier is about to secure the biggest deal of his career.”

Becca's gaze focused on me.

“You're his new assistant, right?” So she was switching gears now. Poking at me for another vulnerable point. “The new Ian. Every assistant he has had always was a man. He never wanted a woman so close. I guess this time he needed help in the office and in the bedroom.”

“I think it's time for us to leave.” Xavier prepared to stand, but I clenched his thigh this time.
Not so fast, buddy.
I'd tangled with far crueler predators.

“I'm good at what I do, Mrs. Quinn. But what I excel at is handling people. I don't need to fling mud at others to compensate for my own insecurities or my own problems. I keep them at home.”

Becca's grip on her drink tightened.

“I just wanted a few nights to forget,” Marcus said to his wife. “Why are you stepping on my efforts?”

Marcus looked at us apologetically. “I'm sorry about this. We should've eaten dinner alone.”

“No need to apologize.” Xavier looked to me, and I took his cue that he was leaving even if he had to drag me out with him.

“It was a pleasure meeting you both.” When we reached Atlantic Ave, I expected us to get into the car, but Xavier took my hand and we continued down the street, heading north past the concrete storefronts. Early-evening Boston buzzed around us. Trollies passed us with wide-eyed tourists. People weaved around us to destinations unknown. It was just me and him, walking hand in hand.

We approached the aquarium.

“Have you ever been there before?” I asked him.

“Never had the chance.”

“That's one of the first places I went when I got here. Couldn't afford much else, but I could afford seeing the aquarium.”

He smiled at me and I melted a bit.

We passed Tia's, a visit to which was a long-standing tradition requested by many clients during their stay. From there we reached Chris Columbus Park. He directed us toward the Harborwalk. I hadn't been there in a few months. I rarely came at night.

“This is nice,” he remarked as we passed a man playing his guitar. Guess he was ready to talk now.

“Much nicer than the restaurant.”

“I'm sorry about that.”

I shrugged, ignoring the fact we were somehow holding hands. Maybe my touch was reassuring and comforting for him. “There's something going on between them. I understand and I've seen it before. When you're hurt, you take things out on other people.”

“Yeah, but that's not an excuse for her to mistreat you.”

I shrugged again. “Be that as it may, I know what it's like to be sitting in her seat. When the world weighs down on you with your problems and you have no outlet, everyone gets to be as
happy
as you are.” I did a single hand air quote for the word
happy
.

His hand tightened on mine. “You're not that way, though.”

“You've seen nice Sophie. Bitch Sophie will pull a knife on you and cut your ass.”

He laughed this time.

Under normal circumstances, I'd never say such things in front of a client, but I'd exposed myself to Xavier in more ways than one. Why not show him down-to-earth Sophie?

“You got a knife on you now?”

I spotted a food truck selling tacos. “No, but I'm about to be armed and dangerous when it comes to fish tacos.”

“That sounds good right about now.”

We did miss out on dinner. “I don't know what kind of employer you are, letting your employees think they're going to get dinner and then you snatch the food away.”

We got in line. “That was my plan the whole time.” My stomach fluttered every time he looked at me like that. As if he enjoyed my company. Right now, with his hand in mine and mine in his, it was natural, as if we did this every time we went out in public.

“I need to keep you working hard,” he added.

“Is that right?” We reached the head of the line and ordered our tacos. I offered to pay, but he declined and took care of our meals.

We found a bench nearby and dug into our food. Even though we ate in silence, I couldn't stop smiling.

“What is it?” he asked, his mouth full of food.

“It's weird, to be honest.”

“Why?” He took a sip of his drink.

“I'm sitting next to the owner of Silver Sparrow Systems eating ten-dollar tacos.”

“And?”

“You can be intimidating without trying hard.”

He offered me a grin beautiful enough to make me want to kiss him. Oh, how I wanted to kiss him.

I took my napkin and wiped off his mouth instead. He reached up and took my hand. Our gazes locked and my heart sputtered from the heat of his gaze. All I'd wanted was one touch.

I tried to pull away, but he took the napkin from me and placed my hand on his cheek. Damn him and the perfect stubble on his cheeks. Using his free hand he grasped my other one and placed it on his other cheek. His lips parted and my imagination ran wild. Heat filled my core when he took my right hand and ran my fingertips along his lower lip. Then he kissed my fingertips.