Because her ingrained hostess instincts wouldn’t think of serving a measly half cup of coffee to guests in an effort to stretch it to three servings, she poured two full cups for Cain and his female companion, leaving none for herself.
She slid them both across the counter. Neither said thank you.
Violet bit back a sarcastic you’re welcome and began rinsing out the grounds to make a second pot.
Cain startled Violet, coming up beside her, picking up her empty mug, and pouring half of his own coffee into it.
He unceremoniously set it on the counter in front of her.
Violet hid her surprise, not only that he’d shared his coffee, but that he’d even noticed she hadn’t poured any for herself.
“Thank you,” she told him.
He acted as though she hadn’t spoken and leaned against the counter, mug in hand, one ankle crossed over the other, jeans still defiantly unbuttoned, with just a strip of…
Violet tore her eyes away and quickly resumed rinsing the glass carafe. She dried her hands, then picked up her mug, turning toward Cain’s overnight guest. Since he seemed to have no inclination to introduce her to the other woman, she smiled and extended a hand. “Hello. I’m Violet.”
“KC,” she said, shaking Violet’s hand with a blatantly curious once-over. “You Cain’s rich cousin or something?”
“A dear family friend,” Violet lied smoothly and without hesitation.
Cain snorted.
“Cool,” KC said disinterestedly, rubbing under her eye and then looking at the black smudge on her finger. “Well, I gotta run. Gotta be at work in twenty.”
“Where do you work?” Violet asked politely, hoping to lead Cain by example in the art of friendly small talk.
“Coffee shop in Midtown during the day. Bar in Yonkers at night. That’s where I met Cain last night.”
Violet smiled. “Well, that answers my next question of how long you’ve been seeing each other.”
KC’s eyes narrowed, as though trying to assess Violet’s level of snark. Then she shrugged, drained the rest of her coffee, and handed the mug to Violet. “Here. Already on thin ice with my shit manager ’cause I showed up stoned last week.”
Violet accepted the mug and said nothing.
KC headed up the stairs, presumably to retrieve her clothes.
Violet set KC’s mug in the sink. “More coffee?” she asked Cain, since he’d seemed to be drinking his in gulps.
She began making a second pot before he replied. She needed more coffee to deal with him. Actually, at this rate, she was gearing up for an afternoon glass of wine.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Cain watching her carefully, as though taking note of the process, though his mask of indifference reappeared the second he caught her looking.
“So. Duchess. You care to explain the whole breaking-and-entering thing?”
“I didn’t break anything,” she clarified. “As for the entering, when you didn’t answer, I figured you might be in the shower,” she lied.
His eyebrows went up. “You thought I was in the shower, and you took that as your cue to come on in? Maybe this arrangement of ours will be more interesting than I thought.”
He leaned toward her slightly, and the sheer maleness of him put her on edge.
“Would you please go put on some clothes?” she snapped.
Cain gave another of those insolent shrugs that seemed to be his favored form of communication. “You don’t like it, you’re welcome to leave the same way you came in. Go wander around a museum or something.”
“I’m glad you mentioned museums,” Violet said. “They’re a bit of a New York institution, which means there will be plenty of those in your near future.”
Cain didn’t bother to disguise the grimace. “So, you were for real? You’re really going to do this? Try to turn me into some sort of city douchebag just because the old lady told you to?”
“That old lady is your grandmother.”
“The hell she is.”
“But she said the blood tests came back—”
“Fuck the blood tests,” he snapped. “You think that’s what family is? Some shared blood? These people didn’t give a single shit about me until they needed something.”
“That may be true about Adam,” Violet said, keeping her voice level. “But I know Edith almost as well as I know myself. There is no way she would have known about you and not gotten in touch. Now that she does, though, she’s clearly doing her best to form a relationship with you—”
Cain interrupted rudely with a snort. “Form a relationship with me? She wants to turn me into a pretty boy puppet whose strings she controls.”
“Oh, you poor thing,” she said mockingly. “Let’s not forget that those strings are actually the reins of a billion-dollar company, not to mention a house to live in, free of charge—”
“Yeah, a real dream come true,” he cut in caustically. “All I have to do is give up my home, my identity, my dignity…”
“Well, feel free to walk away,” Violet said sweetly.
He wouldn’t, of course. Nobody walked away from what Edith was trying to hand Cain Stone. The Rhodes fortune included access to a private jet, for God’s sake.
“Fuck,” he muttered, draining the rest of his coffee.
Violet sniffed. “The language is hardly necessary.”
“That’s unnecessary? Says the duchess in her old-lady pearls. How old are you, twenty-two going on ninety? Everything about you is unnecessary.” He reached out and flicked an insolent finger over the necklace, and Violet stepped quickly back.
“Don’t touch those,” she said, her voice coming out in a protective snarl she barely recognized.
Cain froze, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as though realizing his mockery had grated over a raw spot.
“Hey now,” he said, his voice different than she’d heard it thus far. Lower, almost soothing. “I’m—”
If he was going to apologize—and that was a very big if—he was interrupted by the sound of KC clomping back down the stairs. Gone was the T-shirt. Instead she was wearing ankle boots, baggy black pants, and a tight tank top.
“Don’t you have a jacket?” Violet asked before she could think better of it.
KC let out a mocking laugh. “I’ll be fine, Mom.”
Violet winced. She deserved that, though it stung on the heels of Cain’s old-lady cracks.
KC blew Cain a kiss and headed toward the front door. He made no move to go after her.
Violet turned to him as the door closed.
Cain was looking at her. “A jacket? Really?”
“What?” she asked defensively. “It’s cold outside.”
“Jesus,” he muttered. “Should I run after her and ask if she has a 401(k) and got the flu shot too?”
“He knows what a 401(k) is,” Violet murmured under her breath, plunging the coffee. “That’s a start.”
Cain reached out, closing a hand over her wrist just as she was about to pour the coffee. “I’m not a hick,” he snapped, close enough that she could feel his breath on her cheek.
“No? Prove it,” she said smoothly, easing her hand away and refilling both of their cups. “Quit acting like a sulky child and button up your fucking pants already.”