Chapter Eleven

Sean O’Banyon liked to believe he had a talent for accurately assessing people. Aggressive men such as himself in particular.

So as he eyed Moorehouse from across the dining room, he knew the two of them were going to go at it tonight. Ever since he’d walked into the mansion with Cass, he and that hard-eyed athlete had been circling each other like a couple of wolves.

Cass stepped in front of him, pressing a coffee cup into his hand. “Sean?”

He smiled down at her. “What?”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why do you look like you want to wipe the floor with someone?”

He bent down and kissed her on the cheek. “Nothing for you to worry about.”

She gave him a level look. “I’m going to go find Joy, okay? Try and stay out of trouble.”

The moment she left, he pegged Moorehouse with a hard look that was returned pound for pound.

Time to get this over with, he thought, putting the coffee down.

Moorehouse must have come to the same conclusion because the guy started heading around the table from the other side. They met head-to-head in front of the dessert tray. Just as someone called out that the fireworks were about to go off down at the shore.

“You got a problem there, Moorehouse?” Sean asked as the room cleared.

“No more than you do.” Moorehouse’s sizable shoulders moved back, his unblinking eyes steady as a cobra’s.

Man, he was a big one, Sean thought with satisfaction. This was going to be fun.

“You know,” Sean said, “Cass left here a week ago feeling like hell. But as soon as she was back in Manhattan her mood improved. I wonder why?”

“None of my business.”

Sean laughed and slipped the buttons on his suit jacket free.

“Well, wouldn’t you know. You and I agree on something.” He tapped his temple with his forefinger. “But see, this is where I get confused. You’ve been staring at me all night like maybe you and I have something going. Except considering that Cass is not your woman, I can’t figure out why you’re bothering. Unless you like the color of my eyes or something.”

“I don’t like much about you.”

“Why’s that?”

“You know your reputation as well as I do.”

“Ah. Don’t approve of my working-class background, do you?”

“How many lovers have you got going right now, O’Banyon? In addition to her, I mean?”

“So protective,” Sean murmured. “You clearly think of yourself as her champion in some twisted way, don’t you? Like it’s okay for you to treat her badly, but no one else can, is that it?”

Moorehouse’s blue eyes narrowed. “Careful, O’Banyon, reading other people’s minds can be a real buzz kill.”

“So can making a good woman cry. Or do you get off on it? Did you feel good, making her hurt like that?”

“Just so we’re clear,” Moorehouse said evenly, “the next insult you throw’s coming back at your jaw.”

* * *

Cass gasped.

The sound she made brought the men’s heads around to the doorway. The effect was like a bell ringing in a boxing match. The two of them broke apart, Alex going over to the window, Sean dragging a hand through his hair and turning toward her.

“What is going on here?” she demanded.

“Just talking.” Sean smiled and sauntered over to her, not that she bought his easy stride or lazy expression for a nanosecond. “Let’s go watch the fireworks.”

She glanced across the room. Alex’s body was totally still as he stared out of the glass.

“Come on, Cass. The fireworks.”

Alex’s head dropped down.

“Leave us,” she said to Sean. When he hesitated, she looked him right in the eye. “Go. Now.”

When he’d left, she demanded, “You want to tell me what that was all about?”

“It was nothing.”

God, men. “I want you to leave Sean alone.”

Alex laughed tightly. “I think he can take care of himself. Now you better run along. He’s waiting for you.”

“What is your problem?”

There was a long silence and then he shrugged. “Do you think if I go and screw a bunch of women, I’ll feel better, too? I mean, is working out your grief through men helping you?”

Cass narrowed her eyes. That was one hell of a cheap shot, she thought. As well as dead wrong.

“This coming from you?” she bit out. When he frowned over his shoulder, she put her hands on her hips. “Does your woman know about what happened between you and me?”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your Miracle. The woman you love.” As Alex paled, she shook her head. “What? You didn’t think I knew? I heard you talking about her. That night Gray and Joy were married when I…came back for the plate.”

Alex spun back to the window. And grabbed on to the sill as if steadying himself. “I thought that—I thought that was a dream.”

His voice cracked at the end and the achy pitch softened her temper just a little. Boy, this situation between them was just so screwed up. On both ends.

“Where is she, Alex? Why isn’t she here with you?”

He didn’t answer, just propped his head up with his hand.

“Alex, why were you with me? You love her, right?”

Silence stretched out and then in a deadened voice, he said, “I am obsessed. She is like no other woman.”

Cass’s chest went cold, but she pressed on. “So why aren’t you with your Miracle?”

“It can’t work between us.”

“She’s not in your life?”

“Not the way I wish she was. Not the way…I want her. It would be inappropriate.”

“How long have you—”

“Very long. I’ve loved her for years.”

Years? Did he say years?

“Who is she?” Cass breathed, not that she expected him to tell her. “And if you feel so strongly, why did you take me to bed that night?” She slashed a hand through the air. “Wait—actually, don’t answer that.”

She already knew the why of it. He was a healthy male. She had been naked in his bathroom and really unresisting. Do the math.

God, she had to get away from him.

“Good night, Alex.” She was almost out the door when pride made her say, “One last thing, though. I am not working out my grief through men. There is nothing going on between Sean and me.”

“Liar,” Alex said calmly.

Cass’s mouth fell open as she stared at his broad back. “How dare you.”

“I saw you in the car with him tonight. That was not friends. At least not in my book.”

If his condemnation were any louder or more clear, she thought, it would have fireworks of its own.

She threw up her hands. “Why do you care what I do? Or who I’m with? What’s it to you?”

“I want you.” The words were spoken softly. Into the window, not at her.

“I’m so sick of this—What did you say?”

He wheeled around and came at her faster than she expected, his big body moving with only a slight lurch as he used his cane. Up close, she saw that his eyes were almost all black, they had dilated so completely.

“I want you. Now.” He looked to the doorway. “I want to shut us in here and get you under my body and take you, with all the people just outside. I want to strip your clothes off and put you on that table. Or lay you out on the floor. Or push you up against this wall.”

He leaned to the side and splayed his hand out, as if testing the thing for strength.

She stared at him, stunned, until his eyes slid back to hers. Then she shook herself.

“Are you insane, Alex? As much as it kills me to point this out, you didn’t like it with me, remember? It was a disaster. You couldn’t even kiss me. You couldn’t…finish. I was so humiliated when I left. God, I felt awful.” Abruptly, a bone-deep weariness hit her, making her want to burst into tears. “Look, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not up to it. Just leave me alone, okay?”

When she turned away, he took her hand, stopping her.

“Cassandra. Look at me. Please, just…look at me.”

She glanced over her shoulder. “Why? So you can—”

“I’m so sorry about the way I left things with you.” The anguish in his voice stilled her. And as if he recognized her change in mood, he reached out and stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “That night…It wasn’t that I didn’t want to…you know. I did. God, I really did.”

“Alex—”

“It just felt unfair to you.”

Unfair to her…?

Oh, right.

Cass closed her eyes. “So you were thinking of her the whole time, is that it? And that’s why you wanted me. I must look like her, huh?”

His eyes traced over her face, her hair, her body. “You are no substitute.”

Ah, yes. Because Miracle was perfection, Cass thought.

Okay, she really had to get out of here. Her self-esteem was getting cut to ribbons. Next on the hit parade would be bursting into tears in front of him. And wouldn’t that be a terrific way to start her birthday?

“Let me go,” she whispered, pulling at his grip.

He only tugged her closer.

“That night, all I saw was your hair on my pillow. Your skin in the dim light. Your beautiful, beautiful body. All I heard were the gasping sounds you made deep in your throat. Do you know what it did to me to hear you moan like that?” His voice became a low growl as he leaned down and spoke into her ear. “I want to go back there, Cassandra. Back to where I was with you. I want to taste you. I want your mouth under mine. I want to kiss your secrets. It’s all about you.”

Cass swayed, clinging to his arm. She didn’t understand him, but she didn’t doubt him. He was a lot of things, but never a liar.

And she wanted the same thing he did.

Oh…hell, it was happening again. Her rational thoughts were getting sucked under by her body’s instinct to bring him inside.

What a perfect recipe for disaster, she thought. More sex with a man who had proven capable of hurting her over and over again.

Was she insane?

She looked at his lips. “Prove that I’m really the one you want tonight. Kiss me.”

He stared at her long and hard. Then he murmured something that sounded like I’m such a bastard.

Before she could ask what he meant, his lips came down lightly on hers. They were soft as suede, brushing, stroking, so very gentle. And they trembled. In fact his whole body trembled, making her feel both precious and powerful.

He kissed her delicately for the longest time, sipping and teasing. When his tongue finally licked for permission to enter her mouth, she opened for him.

As he slid inside, he groaned. So did she.

He tasted like scotch and man and need. She smelled his aftershave, felt the hard muscles of his chest against her breasts, his flat belly tight on her own, his thighs.

His hard arousal, thick and straining.

Yes, she thought, sliding her hands around to his hips and bringing him closer. Oh, yes.

Dimly she heard the fireworks go off. Alex lifted his head.

“Cassandra…” He was breathing heavily and she had a feeling he was going to break off the embrace. But then he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms all the way around her until his forearms were on her back. He tilted her off center and kissed the holy heaven out of her.

His mouth was hard on hers. No more gentle searching, no soft caressing. A man’s passion unleashed, a male’s primal need given free rein. She absorbed him, welcoming the rush, the demand of him—

Spike’s voice carried into the room. “Hey, Lex, where—whoa. Ah…sorry.”

As she and Alex broke apart, Cass felt a rush of blood hit her face. The blush got worse as Spike quickly started backing out of the room and shutting the double doors.

“Wait up, buddy. I need a ride home,” Alex said.

The man gave him a long look. Kind of like someone would if their friend was thinking of jumping off a bridge: You crazy idiot.

“Now?” Spike asked.

Alex stepped back. “Yeah.”

“Do you have to go?” Cass whispered as the sound of oohs and aahs joined all the popping and cracking coming from outdoors.

“It’s better if I do.” He lifted his hand to her face and brushed her lips once with his thumb. Then he limped out of the room.