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passed away two months ago.” Her voice fades.
    I grasp her hands, squeeze them. “I’m so sorry.”
    “Thank you.”
    “I’m feeling better now. Go back to your seat and finish your soup.” Her arms drop, and I instantly miss her caring touch. But I can’t have her playing nurse. That’s not her job.
    “Okay.” Jangling all the way, she returns to her chair. Somehow the noise doesn’t bother me as much anymore.
    “Moseley?” He had to have heard that sad story, but I trust him implicitly. He won’t breathe a word of it to another living soul.
    “Yes, Mr. MacKay.”
    “Please serve fresh soup to Ms. Bennett.” It had to have grown cold while she attended to me.
    “Of course, Sir.”
    During the rest of the meal, we go over the details of the dinner party. After promising to follow through with the arrangements in the morning and go shopping for clothes in the afternoon, she retires with the excuse she needs to finish unpacking her things.
    Once I can no longer hear her steps, I ask the question I’ve wondered about since I met her a mere two days ago. “Moseley?”
    “Yes, Sir.”
    “What does Ms. Bennett look like?”
    For a moment, there’s silence, but then he tells me what I want to know. “She’s about five four, slender but not thin.”
    I smile. “No, she likes food too much for that. What color is her hair?”
    “Hard to say. Brown with reddish glints.”
    “Mahogany then.”
    “Yes. It falls to the middle of her back. She likes to wear it loose.”
    “And her eyes?”
    “Brown.”
    I’d like to know their exact shade, but I don’t dare ask. “Thank you, Moseley.”
    “You’re most welcome, Mr. MacKay.” He’s been with me since before I lost most of my sight so he knows what I’m like. Demanding, impatient, a tough businessman. He must be wondering about my fascination with Caitlyn Bennett. But I don’t owe him an explanation, especially when I don’t know the answer myself.
    An hour later, I’m in my office struggling to finish the stockholders’ report which must be sent to the printer tomorrow if it’s to be ready for the meeting. But the pain in my eyes has returned with a vengeance, and it’s interfering with my thought process.
    Hoping the agony will go away, I rest my head on the desk. Just as I do, my door creaks. I don’t have to wonder who it is. Her scent gives her away. She’s changed into something that doesn’t rattle, but swishes instead. A nightgown probably. My groin tightens at the thought of Cait in a nightie.
    “Is your head hurting again?”
    “Yes.” I grit out through the agony in my head.
    “Do you want—”
    “No.” I can’t bear to have her near me again when I’m imagining her wearing a negligee of some kind. I’m liable to do something I regret.
    “I found some unscented oil among my things. That’s what I came down to tell you. Maybe if I used it to massage your temples, it would help.”
    I want her to massage something alright. Just not my brow. “Go away.”
    She lets out a hard sigh. “You have no medicine for this?”
    “I don’t like to take it. It makes my head all muzzy.”
    “Do you mean to tell me you have something to dull the pain but you’re too—”
    The agony goes to double time with the rise of her voice. “Stop yelling.”
    “I’m sorry,” she whispers.
    Her dulcet tone streaks down to my cock, hardening me. I groan.
    “Where’s your medication?”
    “Upstairs, in my room.”
    Whatever she’s wearing swishes and just like that she’s gone. I rest my head back against the office chair and breathe deep. Sometimes that gives me some ease. Unfortunately, today it doesn’t work. Just as I’m gathering the strength I need to stand, she’s back.
    “I brought your pills.”
    “How did you find—”
    “Moseley. He said you take two?”
    “Better make it three.”
    “You sure?”
    “Yes, damn it.” The agony cuts off my breath.
    “No need to yell,” she whispers. “It will just make it