Tempted by Fate (The Fate Trilogy Book Two) (9 page)

“Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked in a
low growl.

“Yes,” I breathed as I stared longingly at
his lips. His mouth met mine with greedy desperation, our lips parting as our
tongues slid over one another. I ran my hands through his hair, gripping it in
my fists as he pushed me up against the table and began untucking my shirt from
my jeans. I felt that familiar warmth begin to gather between my legs and
leaned back onto the tabletop behind me. But as my hands hit the prints I had
been arranging all morning I felt a surge of anxiety pulse through me and
quickly turned from Victor, refusing to let myself become distracted for too
long.

“You certainly know how to clear a girl’s
head.” I untangled myself from him and began to tuck my shirt back into my
jeans. “But this will have to wait. I need to have this figured out by two and
then head to the gallery.”

He sighed with frustration as he smoothed
back his hair, forcing a tight-lipped smile onto his face. “I should be getting
to work, too.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you at the show tonight, and
then after. You know I hate to be kept waiting.”

He headed for the foyer, adjusting his pants
as he went, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Although I felt slightly guilty for
snubbing him, I knew that I would make up for it later. Since I had gotten the
job at Lotus, I had been spending more time away from the mansion, and from
him. I could tell it bothered him and, although he had the power to keep me at
home under his watch, he didn’t say anything about it. As I fixed my disheveled
clothing, I found myself questioning the necessity of my contract with Victor—I
wasn’t his maid anymore, and he definitely didn’t need any piece of paper to
convince me to get in bed with him. From the day I had met him, I seemed to
lose any and all will power at his hands, and the only thing that rivaled him
for my attention was my work, but that was certainly no real threat.

Why were we still doing this? Part of me
worried that if I backed out of the contract now that sense of distance that
Victor had worked so hard to maintain only a few weeks ago might come creeping
back, maybe permanently. But another part of me thought we were past that. The
end of the three month contract period was coming up and I would have to make a
decision soon.

The sound of Victor’s footsteps on the stairs
pulled me from my thoughts. I quickly refocused on the prints and began
organizing them into their possible layouts.

My makeout session with Victor seemed to do
the trick—ten minutes later I had settled on a final arrangement for the
exhibit. I was quickly packing up my things before the doubt could have a
chance to settle in again when I heard the doorbell ring. Did Victor forget he
had a meeting? Or maybe he was trying to get me away from my work again. I
rushed to the front door, hoping it was only a delivery man, and opened it to
find a young man just a few inches taller than me with honey-blonde hair
cropped short to his head. It was as though I were standing in front of some
alternate universe mirror. We were staring at each other with the same dark
eyes flecked with gold, except his were red with unshed tears.

“W-who are you?” I asked as my knees began
shaking and I had to lean against the doorframe for support. My body seemed to
be aware of something that my mind couldn’t register.

The man laughed, tears finally spilling down
his face. “You can’t be serious, Caitlyn. It’s me, Charles. I can’t believe
it’s really you!” He stepped toward me, his arms opening slightly as if he
wanted to hug me.

“Do I know you?” I managed to say as I stepped
backward, away from his embrace. He quickly pulled back from me as if he’d been
slapped, clearly hurt by my recoiling.

“Caitlyn,” he said, his voice breaking as tears
welled in his eyes. “I’m your brother.”
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