Well, how about that.
It was more than that, though. Just the feeling of his eyes on her skin, the way he looked at her—she’d never been so aware of her own body before, of every inch of exposed flesh, every movement, every dull breeze in the otherwise still room.
Whatever this moment was, Cate would savor it. She’d be grateful. Because she’d never have been able to do it if she’d thought she’d ever have to see this man again.
“I still can’t believe I just told you all of that,” she said.
“I can keep a secret.”
“Yeah, well, I’m glad I never have to see you again,” she said. Then she let her eyes linger on his chest, broad and defined even under a t-shirt. “Mostly glad.”
The Norse god stopped and frowned. He looked like he was about to say something, but his eyes flickered over her shoulder, then came back to settle on her own.
“Your meeting is here,” he said.
Cate blinked.
She turned.
There was Ford Colson, smiling, his hand outstretched.
“Cate, thank you so much for coming,” Ford said. Then he looked at the Norse god behind her. “I see you’ve already met Soren.”
He’d known her for all of five minutes, and Soren was already in trouble. He suppressed a grin—that sounded about right for him.
But then he watched Cate’s expression go from confused to comprehending to
pissed
off
in just a few seconds.
And something more than that, too.
He saw fear spread across her face.
It echoed what he’d seen outside, which was interesting. The idea that someone she might have to see again, someone who she couldn’t just dismiss and forget about, knew that she was into BDSM—in theory—scared the crap out of her. He could see it was a visceral reaction, like she was braced to protect herself from attack. Weirdly, it reminded him of his dog
Desi
, who was a rescue. You’d come at Desi from the wrong side, his blind spot, where some piece of crap had beaten him until he lost part of his sight and hearing, and the poor little guy would lose it. Soren knew what that looked like, and Cate was wired the same way. Except that Cate was harnessing that hardwired fear, turning it into a formidable weapon for an angry redheaded lawyer who was five and a half feet of kickass.
She was beautiful when angry, in fact, which was actually kind of amazing to watch. He felt bad for her, though he’d soon make sure she knew there was nothing to be worried about. What dumb frigging luck.
“You really didn’t know?” he said, just to make sure.
He’d assumed she’d recognized him. To be fair, he was world famous. And she was supposed to be his lawyer, so he figured she’d at least
googled
him.
The red flush creeping up her beautiful skin said otherwise.
“No,” she said through clenched teeth. “I really didn’t know who you were. I have been pressed for time this week, and this was a favor to
Ford
.”
Soren didn’t even bother to look at Ford, who knew enough to take a step or two back. Favor to
Ford
, huh? Bullshit. She’d been drawn in by Volare, and the promise of living out all those fantasies she pretended not to have. And she’d done it even though she’d been afraid, no matter what she said.
Soren thought about how she’d gathered herself up and walked back out where Patrick Cross could see her, even though she’d been truly afraid to do so. Maybe that’s when she’d gotten to him.
Or maybe it was when he’d caught her staring at those iron rings. Maybe it was the way she’d talked so nakedly about things that terrified her, things that made him think he already knew her. Things that made him think she already knew him, whether she was aware of it or not, which was hands down the strangest experience of his adult life.
Hell, maybe it was just when he first laid eyes on her. He sure as hell hadn’t been able to look at anything else since. Hazel eyes, that dark, reddish hair, soft skin dusted with the lightest freckles you could only see if you were staring at her at a little too closely. Not his usual type at all, but damn beautiful. And the only woman who’d turned his head after all this time.
And she was a closet sub. A closet sub with some issues, but the kind of issues he might know something about.
He shifted his weight again, opened and closed his hands, rolled his neck. He
kept having
to do that around her just to keep from touching her.
Focus.
“Ford, give us a minute,” he said without looking up.
“I’ll be in the lounge,” Ford said, nodding. “Cate, that’s just up those stairs behind the bar.”
She nodded curtly, her beautiful lips pulled tight in an angry line. Soren thought about all the things he’d rather do with those lips and reined himself in. She had a reason to be pissed.
And he had reasons—many of them—to keep his hands off of her, first and foremost being that he couldn’t afford to let a virgin sub get attached to him, even if they did seem perfectly matched. There weren’t many women who really wanted a no-strings D/s experience. There was absolutely no reason to think she was one of them.
Especially given the intensity of her reactions.
“So is this going to be a problem?” he said.
She didn’t say anything.
“Cate,” he said sharply.
She snapped her head around. He’d known she’d respond to that voice, but it had been a mistake to use it. It gave him a taste.
“I’m trying to decide if you intentionally deceived me,” she said.
“I would never do that.”
“I have no way of knowing that to be true.”
Soren frowned, not liking the distance between them. Not two minutes ago, because of circumstance and fate and whatever else, this woman had let him into a place he was pretty sure no one else had been. Now she felt miles away. Soren walked slowly out from behind the bar, keeping his eyes on hers, liking how she was determined not to look away. He walked up to her bar stool and watched her spin to keep pace with him, her eyes getting wider, her shoulders tense.
He stopped just inches away.
“Look at me. I didn’t think you were really in the dark until just before Ford showed up, when you said you’d never have to see me again,” Soren said. “Look at me so you know I’m telling the truth. I would never do that to anyone.”
Cate licked her lips and swallowed.
“Unfortunately, I’m historically terrible at identifying liars,” she said. “Looking at you isn’t going to help much.”
Much
. He thought he caught a little bit of emphasis on that last word, and she smiled briefly. Soren paused, momentarily blindsided by the fact that he was being sexually objectified. Figuring that out did not
help.
“What can I do to fix it?” he asked.
And he meant it. He’d do whatever it took. Including giving her his best puppy-dog eyes, because he really was kind of a bastard.
Cate wasn’t falling for it, at least not willingly. She looked like she wanted to stay mad, but was quickly losing that battle, and then she grinned. And bit her lip.
God
dammit
.
“I assume I can count on your discretion?” she asked.
“Of course,” Soren said, forcing himself to look at something besides her lips. Her eyes weren’t much better. What would they look like when she came? “But your interest in this place isn’t as secret as you think. You’re at a meeting at a BDSM club. People make assumptions.”
He felt her intake of breath more than heard it. He still couldn’t take his eyes off her face.
“Be that as it may,” she said. “I need to know you won’t discuss the details of our conversation with anyone.”
“Cate.” He put his hands on either side of her bar stool, his thumbs millimeters away from the outside of her thighs, wishing to God he could touch her. “I would never do that to
you
.”
“You don’t even know me.”
He wanted to say: bullshit. Which was crazy. She was right. He didn’t really know her.
It just felt like he did.
“I know enough to know you shared something private with me. I’m not the kind of guy who takes that lightly. I may be an asshole,” he said, “but I’m not that kind of asshole.”
“What kind are you?”
Soren paused. She was for real? Yeah, that raised eyebrow, that smile peeking out at the corner of her mouth—she was for real. She really didn’t know a damn thing about him.
“Baby, there are whole books about it,” he said, grinning. “Literally, there’s a book. It’s called
Savage Hearts
.”
He liked to see her laugh. She seemed surprised by it, surprised to feel less afraid. He’d take it.
“Guess I have some reading to do,” she said.
“You’ll learn things that will make this seem like…” Soren
paused,
mildly amused that it took him this long to think of anything truly innocent. “Like that time the teacher read your note in front of the whole class.”
Cate scoffed. “Never happened.”
“You never passed notes?”
“I never got caught.”
“Too smart for that, huh?”
“By far,” she said, eying him. “But you got caught all the time anyway, didn’t you?”
“How’d you know?” he said, smiling. She was right. He’d gotten in trouble every day.
“Because,” she said, tilting her head, letting her voice drop. “You’d be proud of it.”
Holy shit, maybe she did know him.
Soren watched her in quiet amazement. He was used to controlling the pace, the intensity, even the content of pretty much every conversation he had in his life. The only people who could ever match him and call him out were family: Declan, the lead singer of Savage Heart, Declan’s uncle Jim, who practically raised both of them, and now Molly, the woman Dec was marrying. Dec and Jim just had too much dirt on him, and Molly only pulled it off because she worked at it like it was a part time job.
And now he could apparently add Cate Kennedy to the list, who’d known him for about five minutes, and who was supposed to defend him against charges of being the other kind of asshole.
“Me knowing about you isn’t going to be a problem,” he said. It wasn’t a question. He just wanted her to know it, and to know that he knew it.
Damn, he was playing with fire.
He saw her swallow.
“I guess not,” she said. “Maybe it will help you open up, if you know something about me that no one else knows.
Because your lawyer needs to know everything,
Soren
.
I mean
everything
. Can you do that?”
Soren felt himself smile, even though the more time he spent with this woman, the less certain he was that he could remain professional. “Ford didn’t tell you?”
“What?”
“I have no shame. Hope you’re prepared.”
“You’ve only seen me at my worst,” she said, hopping down off the bar stool in what he now saw were some incredible high heels. She rocked that power suit.
Just lethally feminine, even in a suit.
“You don’t think I got to be where I am by being a total pushover, do you?”