She took another swallow of champagne, starting to feel the relaxing buzz from the alcohol. She was on her third glass, and she better stop with this one. Being relaxed was good—was necessary—but being too relaxed would be a mistake.

“You keep watching me.” His smile was intimate beneath the characteristic cool smugness. He reached to run a hand down her hair, which was still loose and tousled from before. “I think it’s because you can still feel me inside you.”

She could still feel him inside her, and she was very aware that she probably looked like she’d just been tumbled in the back room. Her pussy gave a little clench at his sexy tone, but she shook her head. “Maybe you should dial back the confidence a little.”

His smile broadened. “If you say so. But you were thinking about me, weren’t you?”

“Yeah. I was just watching you conquer the room and wondering how you got so good at it.” It was safest to stick to the truth whenever possible. It was always the most convincing, and it was always easier to remember than the lies.

But more and more it was making even these little interactions between them feel like the real thing.

Caleb gave a nonchalant lift of one shoulder, although she thought he was pleased with her comment. “People are easy.”

Her eyes widened. “Really? You think so?”

“Well, most people. On this level.” He gestured out at the mingling, well-dressed crowd. “It’s all surface. It’s just a skill you can learn.”

“I’ve never found making small talk easy.”

He took her empty glass from her hand and put it with his own glass on the tray of a circling server. “That’s because you haven’t had as much practice as I have. It’s all politics—parties like this—and that’s a skill. People are easy.”

“I hope the implication isn’t that I’m easy too.”

He made a sound in his throat and slid an arm around her, pulling her closer to him. It wasn’t an inappropriate touch for public, but it felt private, tender—like it was something that other people shouldn’t witness. “Nothing about you is easy, blossom.” His eyes met hers without wavering. “I have no skill to fall back on with you.”

Her breath hitched, and her hands clenched in his jacket, holding on to him in the only way she could. Her heart was beating wildly, but she managed to conjure up a sexy, teasing tone as she replied, “No skill at all?”

His eyes went hot. “Well, maybe—”

Before he could respond, a voice interrupted from just over Caleb’s shoulder. “If I was prone to clichés, I might say something about getting a room.”

Both Kelly and Caleb jumped at the unexpected interruption of a conversation that had felt so intensely personal.

Caleb’s expression was briefly annoyed as he turned to see who had broken in, but it immediately transformed into a genuine smile. “Wes. I should have guessed it was you barging in where you’re clearly not wanted.”

Wes was evidently a real friend, if Kelly was to go by Caleb’s demeanor. He looked to be around Caleb’s age—early forties—and had a pleasant face, soft hazel eyes, and a warm smile. He wasn’t the powerhouse and sex god that Caleb was. Not even close. But he looked intelligent and rather nice. “Ah, but someone had to save your reputation. Gloria Cannon was starting to tsk her tongue at you.”

Caleb was grinning as he made the introductions. He liked this man. Kelly couldn’t help but see it, and it intrigued her, since he didn’t seem to be close to anyone.

Except her.

“We were friends at school,” Caleb explained, drawing her to his side, his arm resting on her waist.

“I guess you’ve known each other a long time, then.”

“You don’t have to make it sound like we’re ancient, but yeah, it’s been quite awhile,” Caleb responded.

“What do you do, Wes?” Kelly asked, genuinely curious and wanting to make sure she acted like a normal girlfriend would.

“I make cars.”

She was processing this as Caleb interjected, “Not with his own hands, just to clarify. He sits at a desk like I do.”

“I’m a corporate executive with the company, but it sounds more impressive if I just tell people I make cars.” Wes smiled at her. He seemed to be genuinely pleased to meet her, which wasn’t true of a lot of the other people at this party.

“You live in DC?”

“No. I’m in Paris, actually. But I’m back in town for a little while for family reasons.”

Kelly suddenly made the connection. The mother of one of Caleb’s friends had needed to go to the hospital for treatment several weeks ago. This must be the friend.

That day had evidently been rough on Caleb—he said he hated hospitals—so she figured he would only have done it for someone he was really close to.

It was strange to meet a friend of his, connections going back to his childhood. It made Caleb somehow seem more fully human.

They chatted for a few minutes, but then Caleb went to round them up some more drinks. As soon as he stepped away, Wes said with another smile, “Now that he’s gone, you can give me the real scoop.”

She lifted her eyebrows, but her heart gave a little leap, since it sounded like Wes believed there was some secret about her to be known. “What scoop?” Her mind was buzzing a little from the alcohol. She shouldn’t have drunk the third glass of champagne. She wasn’t as sharp as she needed to be.

“How did you and Caleb meet?”

She let out a breath of relief, trying not to reflect it on her face. “We just ran into each other by accident. At a park, actually. He was there with Ralph—his dog.” Wes evidently knew who Ralph was, so she continued, “I thought he was a client I was supposed to meet, so we started talking. We just hit it off.”

What had actually happened was they’d fucked each other like animals before they knew each other’s names, but no need to be quite so detailed about their first encounter.

“What do you do?” he asked.

“I paint pet portraits. It sounds kind of crazy, but there are a surprising number of people who want to have their pets memorialized that way.”

Wes chuckled. “I guess so. So you’re from the area?”

“Yeah. I grew up in DC, and I still live here.”

“Where did you go to school?”

Kelly was starting to get uncomfortable with all the questions. Wes appeared to be just acting friendly, but he was obviously curious about her, and she preferred to avoid a lot of personal questions.

The more information she gave about herself, the easier it would be for someone to find out who she really was.

She was safe—because her mother had gone to great lengths to hide any connection between her and her biological parents when she was adopted as a child—but still, she didn’t want to give anyone any clues that could be followed.

No one was perfectly safe.

In response to his question, she mentioned the private high school she’d gone to and glanced around for Caleb, hoping he would come soon and rescue her. But he’d been waylaid by an elderly woman and clearly couldn’t get away immediately.

“That’s a really good school,” Wes said.

“Yeah. Don’t get the wrong idea, though. I’m not that smart.” She was feeling trapped and rattled, although the conversation shouldn’t have been particularly dangerous. She really wished she hadn’t drunk so much, since her mind wasn’t working as quickly as it needed to. “The Watsons were donors, which is the only reason I was admitted.”

“The Watsons?”

Kelly blinked, trying to figure out what he was asking. Then she realized her mistake. Most kids didn’t call their parents by their last name the way she did her adoptive parents. She froze for a moment, a wave of terror overwhelming her at the idea she’d somehow given herself away, but she pushed through it.

She’d given away nothing. She just needed to focus again.

“My folks,” she explained, trying to make it sound casual.

“You call them the Watsons?”