Free Caress Part One (Arcadia) by Josie Litton

your brother?” he asked softly.
    A flicker of pain shot through me. In some ways, losing
Nathan had been tougher even than losing my mother. Growing up we had been as
close as siblings born five years apart could be. He was my big brother and I’d
thought that I could always depend on him. But he was also a free spirit with
an incurable case of wanderlust, at least until he seemed to find whatever it
was that he’d been looking for.
    “He’s living in a Buddhist monastery outside of San Diego.
The last time I spoke with him he seemed very…calm, very centered.”
    And very distant. As though he was viewing me and my
struggles from a loftier plane.
    Lucas hadn’t commented directly, which was fortunate because
I couldn’t have stood any hint that he felt sorry for me. Instead, he’d gone on
to speak of other things. The cut-throat nature of the real estate business in
New York. The reasons why the wealthiest and most powerful people on the planet
were flocking to the city. Whether the recent stratospheric prices indicated
that we were in yet another financial bubble.
    He didn’t seem very concerned about that possibility. I got
the impression that Phelps Properties was well positioned to benefit from
whatever the market did next.
    What did worry him surprised me.
    “The gap between the one percent and everyone else is bigger
than ever and it’s getting even bigger,” Lucas said. “If that’s not enough,
we’re facing technological changes that threaten to hollow out the middle class
even more. They’re the bulwark of democracy. Without them, we can kiss freedom
goodbye. Something has to give.”
    “Have you considered going into politics?” I asked. With his
looks and charisma, and the power he already had in the city that seemed like a
reasonable choice.
    But he just frowned and shook his head. “I value my privacy
and in politics there’s no such thing. Besides, I can be just as effective, if
not more so, behind the scenes.”
    I didn’t want to think about his private life. It was enough
that he hadn’t brought a woman back to the apartment. If he was involved with
one or more, it wasn’t in his own bed.
    Which left me all too free to imagine myself there.
    The first time my mind went in that direction, I was
standing in the master suite. He’d seemed amused that I’d sought his approval
to go in there but I didn’t want to start inventorying its contents without his
knowledge.
    All the same, I was undeniably curious to see how strong his
presence would be in the space he was occupying temporarily. If I’d had to
guess, I would have said ‘very’.
    But my first impression on stepping into the suite was
surprise. Margo Stark had been a sexy, gorgeous, ultra feminine movie star. Her
boudoir--and that’s exactly what it should have been--cried out for brocade
wallpaper, chandeliers, a canopy bed, one of those old-fashioned dressing
tables with a three-part mirror, maybe even a fainting couch.
    Instead, I found myself looking at a room that seemed far
better suited to a man. Certainly, the darkly paneled walls and carved mahogany
furnishings including a large four-poster bed had a masculine vibe. I could see
Lucas feeling right at home among them.
    Inevitably, my gaze focused on that bed. It was neatly made
up, the burgundy covers pulled smooth without so much as a wrinkle. Apparently,
he didn’t need servants trailing after him.
    Being instinctively tidy myself, I appreciated that in
another person. Still, my wayward mind conjured a vision of the covers strewn
on the floor, the pillows tossed aside and two bodies--
    I really needed to get a grip! Lucas and I were in a good
place. I was getting my job done and we were able to enjoy each other’s company
without a lot of weirdness.
    Of course, I was vividly aware of how my body reacted to the
mere thought of him, not to mention the way he had of cropping up in my dreams.
But that didn’t stop me from genuinely liking him and appreciating the