Page 137 of Untouchable
She’d had to lay the groundwork that morning by prompting a little argument over breakfast—about nothing more serious than his being grumpy with her—and the fallout was that he’d gone into his office in the city to work for the afternoon.
He used to do that every Sunday afternoon, so it hadn’t been too hard to get him to fall back into the habit.
She didn’t really want him to go into work. It felt like it was creating distance between them when they’d been so close last night.
They hadn’t made love when they got back home, but she’d fallen asleep in his arms, and she’d never felt so close to anyone in her life, like they’d both opened their souls, leaving nothing unexposed.
He’d been a little more guarded this morning since opening up like that had been hard for him, and she’d taken advantage of it, intensified it.
Because she had to. She had to bring this to a close at last.
At three in the afternoon she showed up at his office. She never would have done this on a weekday since his time was usually scheduled out to the minute Monday through Friday. But it was Sunday, and he was just working on his own in his office. Some of his staff might be there, but there wouldn’t be tons of people around.
This was the best opportunity that she would ever have to get into the storage room.
She was going to use it.
A couple of people were working in offices she passed as she got off the elevator on his floor, but his assistant wasn’t at the desk in the executive suite.
That was good. That would make things a lot easier.
Caleb’s office door was cracked open slightly, so she knocked on it.
“Come.” He sounded professional, curt, busy. The consummate businessman.
That was him as much as anything else. She needed to remember it. There weren’t many limits to what he was willing to do to get ahead in business. Ignoring that reality about him would be a huge mistake.
She pushed open the door.
He turned his head from his computer at her entrance, and she saw his body twitch in surprise when he processed her appearance.
“Kelly,” he said, standing up and taking a few steps toward her. “Is everything all right?”
She gave him a little smile, not having to fake the nerves she was feeling.
His expression softened. “What are you doing here?”
“I was hoping you might have a minute.”
“Of course I have a minute. Is anything wrong?”
“No. I, uh…” She dropped her eyes and then raised them again. “I was hoping for an appointment with Mr. Marshall.”
She saw the series of expressions flicker across his face. Confusion, recognition, understanding, heat.
“Does Mr. Marshall have a few minutes for me?”
He chuckled and leaned down to check the schedule on his computer. “It looks like he does. I’m assuming you wouldn’t interrupt me without an appointment if it wasn’t important.”
Pleased he was going for it and unable to keep from admiring his quick mind and sharp reflexes, Kelly stepped all the way into the office and closed the door with a click. Then she went to put her leather satchel on the floor next to the couch, sliding her keys down beside it, out of sight from the desk.
Caleb had moved to stand next to the window, and he was now facing a little away from her. She understood it as part of their little game.
He never bothered with a suit on Sundays, but he wore an Oxford shirt and a pair of tailored trousers, still managing to look well dressed and professional.
Kelly stood and studied his back. Noticed that the fabric of his shirt—just between his shoulder blades—was sticking to his skin as if he’d gotten too hot earlier. For some reason, that small detail made Kelly’s heart do a little flip-flop.
No matter how brilliant and powerful he was, Caleb was still human. And sometimes his shirt stuck to his back when he got a little sweaty.
