The Mistresses Collection. Оливия Гейтс

that she was taken aback given she knew how much he hated conferences and the whole public-speaking thing.

      ‘Of course.’ He tried to joke. ‘I’m assuming you’ve written the keynote?’

      ‘I’ll email it to you.’

      ‘And I’ll amend it.’ He cracked a smile.

      ‘Are you sure?’

      ‘Don’t worry,’ he reassured her. ‘I can do it.’

      ‘You’ll need to get the next flight to Sapporo.’ The anxiety returned to Lisbet’s voice.

      ‘Have you booked me a ticket already?’

      ‘I’m on it now. I’ll email it. You’ve only got a couple hours.’

      ‘Great,’ he said. ‘JFK?’ He’d have to drop Caitlin off and go straight there.

      ‘Yes.’ Her relief was audible. ‘I knew I could rely on you. Thank you.’

      ‘Not a problem. You do what you have to do. And so will I.’

      ‘I will.’

      James rang off and pulled back out into the traffic lane before saying anything to Caitlin. He pressed hard on the accelerator. This was a good thing. It’d give him a few days to pause and get his head together. Caitlin would still be in New York when he got back and he’d see how things were then. He glanced at her. She was watching the scenery whizz by.

      ‘Did you get the gist of that?’ he asked.

      ‘You’re going somewhere.’ She turned her face to look at him, concern etched in her blue eyes. ‘Has something horrible happened somewhere?’

      ‘No, thank goodness.’ He hurriedly smiled, hating the spasm of guilt that she’d been worried for a moment. It reinforced his instinct—he was right to walk away. ‘I have to go to that conference in Northern Japan.’

      Her eyes widened. ‘There really is a conference? I thought you just made that up as an excuse to fob off your family.’

      ‘There really is a conference.’ He chuckled, even as he felt another bite of that guilt. ‘At the time it was also an excuse because I didn’t have to go to it. Now I do.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘It’s a big conference. Important. I have to deliver the keynote.’

      ‘Wow.’

      ‘Hmm.’ He glanced at her again. She was back to looking at the scenery. ‘Not my favourite thing to do,’ he said. ‘But I really do have to—’

      ‘It’s okay, you don’t have to explain it, I understand.’ Caitlin totally understood.

      James had a job to do. And that job always came first.

      She breathed in, trying to get her head around the sudden change of plan. There’d been no hesitation in his replies during the call. He’d offered instantly. Absolute readiness and pleasure. No thought for what—or who—he’d be leaving behind. He’d just locked into action-man mode. It was what he loved.

      All he loved.

      Oh, she was stupid. So lame to have been so looking forward to getting back to the condo and having him to herself again.

      That she’d come to feel so much for him so quickly? The clichés were clichés for a reason—they were true. Prolonged physical intimacy led to emotional entanglement. For her anyway. Had she really thought that the almost desperate way he’d held her to him last night had meant something? What a fool she was.

      She stared resolutely out of the window. Refusing to let herself feel any kind of hurt. Impossible of course. And she didn’t want him to go. She didn’t want him to leave her.

      But he was. After all, what was a few more days with her compared to his work? A ‘keynote speech’ had to be delivered—oooh, so important.

      She couldn’t help the bitchy turn of her thoughts. He hadn’t been called to a desperate life-saving search in the rubble somewhere hellish. This was a conference. A bunch of people standing round and talking.

      But she wasn’t going to tell him how she felt about it. As if she’d make such a fool of herself? She couldn’t turn harpy on him for doing his job. She couldn’t cry and say she’d miss him—which she wanted to do and would. Hell, this was a holiday fling—he’d probably laugh at her. Then run a mile from the psycho clinging woman. He’d think she was all that Dominic had claimed—the woman who refused to let a man walk when he wanted to.

      She was the loser for taking this too seriously. She was the loser for letting him inside—not to her body, but her heart. But she’d never let him know what a fool she’d been. Because even if he didn’t laugh, the last thing she wanted now was any kind of pity.

      ‘I’ll drop you at the condo, then I’ll head straight to the airport.’ He broke the silence.

      ‘You don’t have to pack?’

      ‘I have all I need with me.’

      Of course. Combat pants and grey T-shirts. ‘You always have your passport with you?’

      ‘Yeah.’ He nodded, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. ‘You never know when you might get a call.’

      ‘Of course.’

      He really was action man. She froze inside as she listened to him. He was excited. Of course he was. Off to Japan. Off to meet with other heroic beings.

      He’d obviously forgotten what was currently splattered all over the Internet—the conjecture, the criticism. He didn’t care about that anyway. Of course he didn’t. None of it would stick to him. But to her?

      ‘Stay in the condo. Keep on sightseeing,’ he said.

      As if she wanted to do that alone? As if she wanted to sleep in that big bed by herself? ‘Thanks.’

      That was when she realised it.

      The headlines were right. She was selfish. She wanted more, more, Moore. Always had. Probably always would. She wanted to be first in someone’s life. For once. Just once. But that she’d imagined even for a moment that it could have been him?

      The drive back to Manhattan flew by in half the time it had taken to get to the Hamptons only those two days ago. It was with utter relief that she saw his building come into view. She could hold it together for only a little longer.

      As soon as he pulled over, she grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car. ‘You’d better go,’ she said husky and quick. ‘You don’t want to miss your flight.’

      ‘Caitlin—’

      ‘Go,’ she interrupted. She didn’t want to hear any kind of platitude. She waved and turned away. A split second later she turned back.

      But just like that, he was gone.

       TWELVE

      Part of the condo was almost complete—the kitchen. In the couple of days they’d had away the builders had installed the cabinetry and the beautiful marble slab for the counter. Caitlin barely glanced at it as she dashed upstairs. She flung herself face down in pillow mountain and let the tears fall from her eyes.

      Five minutes. Five minutes of moping. Then she was pulling herself together.

      But she hurt so much inside. She squeezed her eyes shut. It didn’t make the world go away. What an idiot. She sat up and scrubbed the tears from her face with her palms. She looked around the lovely room. Then her gaze rested on the slim black rectangle he’d left on the beside table.

      It was the last thing she should do. She knew that. But she couldn’t help it. She might as well see the worst. She switched it on and opened