“My life has never been about lies or half-truths. I refuse to start now, even when you make me so angry I can’t think straight.” She flung her arms wide in an empty gesture of frustration. She was close to tears when she whispered, “Don’t you think we’ve hurt each other enough? Gordan, please—let it end now...tonight.”
It took every ounce of his self-control not to go to her and jerk her back into his arms, where she belonged. She was asking for too much and leaving him with nothing.
“No. But I realize I’ve made mistakes. All I ask is for some of your time.”
“What?”
“What better place to find each other again than in Martinique? Isn’t that why you came back to the island— back to Kramer House?”
Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried to collect herself. She had asked herself that same question since the day she had arrived. Unfortunately, she still didn’t know the answer. Her voice was as steady as she could make it. “I’m not one of your projects—I don’t need fixing.”
“If you wanted nothing to do with me you certainly would not be here, in my hotel. Now would you, baby?”
“I can leave in the morning.”
“And prove nothing.”
“My family made the arrangements for this vacation, not me. The airline ticket was nonrefundable. Unlike you, I can’t just throw money around. Besides, I needed time alone. It started here. It has to...” Cassy stopped abruptly and looked away. “I certainly did not expect you to follow me.”
“You should have.” He wanted her back in his life, in his bed. They belonged together. “Consider my request, Cassy. You owe me that much.”
“This is not just another wildly romantic vacation we’re discussing, only to have nothing change when it’s over. This is my life.”
“After what we’ve meant to each other, all I’m asking is for some of your time, baby.”
“I’ve given you years out of my life—years that I can’t get back.”
“I’m talking about time together here on the island. Please—just think about it.”
She nodded before she slipped out the door.
Gordan had no idea how long he stood unmoving, his body stiff with tension. He was barely aware of the servants clearing the outside table. Or the candles being extinguished. He stared for the longest time at the door Cassy had disappeared through. He could not believe how badly his attempt at reconciliation had gone.
“May I get you anything before I say good night?” Bradford asked. Gordan shrugged out of his jacket and dropped it on the back of the couch. He began to unbutton his shirt then released the diamond cuff links, dropped them into his pocket, and rolled his sleeves above his elbows.
“Gordan?”
“Sorry. What did you say?”
“May I get you something before I say good night?”
“I could use a brandy. On second thought, bring the bottle and a second glass.” Gordan settled in one of the leather wingback armchairs, propping his feet on the wide ottoman.
He was tired—dog tired, to be exact. It could have been that the constant traveling had finally caught up with him. More likely, it was his breakup with Cassy. At the moment, he couldn’t muster up enough energy to care about anything, including the demands of the very profitable corporation he headed.
Had he ever felt more alone—even after the divorce? He had met his ex-wife during his college years. He was on a scholarship at Morehouse and Evie attended Spelman. Even with the responsibility of a much younger brother, he’d managed to keep his grades up and work a full-time job at one of the local hotels. Marriage should have been the last thing on his mind.
Like a lovesick fool, he married, straight out of college, a stunningly beautiful spoiled young woman, used to having everything she wanted. She had little patience with the motherless twelve-year-old, Wil. It was a mistake from start to finish. Nine years of his life had been wasted. The only good thing that had come out of it was his son, Gordy.
After an extremely nasty and bitter divorce, Gordan spent years trying to forget he’d ever been that stupid in the first place. He was too blasted angry with himself to let any woman get close to him. The first couple of years after the divorce, he had a series of relationships with some of the most glamorous women in the world, although he’d always practiced safe sex. He was not about to play fast and loose with his health.
But his lack of trust had gotten so bad that for several years before he met Cassy he had opted for celibacy. It was less risky, emotionally. The women he’d been seen with were nothing more than friends, including the woman he had been with the night he had met Cassy.
Cassy...With her, he’d finally understood what love really meant. For the first time in a very long time, he had allowed himself to be vulnerable to a woman. But then, Cassy was special. He was able to share his thoughts and his feelings with her. She didn’t judge him; she accepted him. And they had been so happy together. That was, until recently.
How could he have been so blind to her unhappiness that he let her slip away from him? What had he been thinking? Did he think that he could neglect her for months at a time and she would always be there for him, like a custom-made suit? Perhaps that was the problem. He hadn’t been thinking.
“Here we are,” Bradford said, handing him the snifter of brandy, before he placed the bottle on the table between the two armchairs and made himself comfortable in the other chair.
“I blew it, Bradford.”
“Maybe if you gave Miss Cassy some time to reconsider?” he offered, lifting his own glass to his lips. He had worked for Gordan since his salad days when he was just opening his first hotel. He and Marian had looked after Wil when Gordan had to be away on business. The two men respected each other, and Gordan had come to depend on Bradford’s level head and keen judgment. It had been his ex-wife who had hired the couple, but at the time of the divorce, they had chosen to work for Gordan.
“She was not exactly in a receptive mood,” he said, dryly, staring at the liquor in his glass rather than drinking it.
The two settled into a comfortable silence, Bradford thoughtful while Gordan brooded.
“She can’t turn off her feelings that quickly.”
Gordan’s laughter was filled with bitterness. “Believe it. I have no one to blame but myself. I missed all the signals. I didn’t even see it coming. I didn’t know she was unhappy until it was too late.”
Their silence stretched on until Bradford said, “My Marian almost put me down a few years back.”
Gordan looked at him. Marian Bradford had worked alongside her husband for many years. They both seemed to enjoy the travel and each other. Gordan had often marveled at their devotion to each other. Marian was an excellent cook and was very good with Gordy when he visited.
“What happened?”
“I didn’t let her leave me, that’s for sure.”
Gordan grinned. “How’d you stop her?”
“Found out what was wrong and fixed it. In other words, I made her fall in love with me all over again.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Rising to his feet, Bradford said, “I suggest you figure out what you did right the first time and get busy.” He picked up the discarded suit coat before he said, formally, “Good night.”
“‘Night, Bradford. And thanks.”
Gordan slowly drained his glass. Reaching for the cordless telephone, he dialed, without bothering to check the time. “Hey,” he said, when the sleepy, deep male voice came on the line.
“What’s wrong?” Wilham Kramer asked.
“Why do you ask?”
Wil grumbled, “You don’t usually call me this late unless there’s a problem. What’s wrong?”
“You alone?”
“Does it matter?”
“Just curious.”
“Yeah. Is it Gordy?” Concern was evident in his voice.
“No. Sorry, I should have paid more attention to the time.”
“It’s all right, bro. Something is bothering you. Start talking.”
“It’s Cassy. She was not pleased to see me.”
His brother knew about their separation. “I hope you haven’t made it worse by losing your temper.”
“Probably. I couldn’t find the right words to make it better. She’s fighting me every step of the way. She wants out and she’s not willing to reconsider.”
“Can you blame her? She loves you, man. Why can’t you get it through your head once and for all that Cassy isn’t Evie and that you should marry the lady?”
“You know why,” he grated, harshly. “You know how the marriage ended. And what it did to me.” Gordan didn’t add that it nearly destroyed him. He didn’t have to; his brother had been an eyewitness. It took years to pull himself together emotionally.
“So you goin’ to sit back like a chump and let your woman walk?”
“Hell, no!”
“Well? How are you goin’ to get her back?”
“I don’t know. I just know I have to. I can’t lose her, Wil.”
“Do you want me to try talking to her? She still likes me.”
Gordan surprised himself when he chuckled. “If only it were that simple. This is something I have to do myself. Only, how? Bradford had some interesting advice. He suggested I repeat whatever it was that worked the first time.”
Wil laughed. “Can’t hurt. Try it.”
“Yeah,” he said, thoughtfully, then asked, “Everything okay with you?”
“Absolutely. I’ve got sense enough not to fall in love.”
“I can just imagine what Dad would say to that. Our folks were in love, or did you forget that?”
Wil chuckled, “Point taken. But how many women are there like Mama and Cassy? Very few. A man can get a little tired of the ‘I’m gorgeous and what can you do for me’ crap the sisters are dishing up.” He let out a loud yawn. “If you need me, I’m here.”
“Yeah, I know. ‘Night.” Gordan replaced the receiver before refilling his glass. Wil had grown into a man of whom their parents would have been proud.
“Cassy...” he said, softy, thinking of the sparkling brown depths of her beautiful eyes the night they met.
He’d been fully engrossed in obtaining the property of one of his dinner guests, Howard Parham—business, pure and simple. It was a choice strip of land in Bali, which included a pristine white beach. As he recalled, his guest was interested in developing condominium complexes on that property.
Bradford had overseen the meal, as was his custom, including the hiring of the hotel’s French pastry chef to concoct a mouth-watering dessert for a guest known for his sweet tooth.
At the time, Gordan had been seeing a lithe, African beauty, well known for her glorious cheekbones. Sonja had no objection to his lifestyle or his very expensive presents. She made herself available to him whenever he needed a hostess. She had a very successful runway career, working almost exclusively in Paris, London, and Milan, and she enjoyed aligning herself with wealthy men.
The classic French cuisine had been exceptional. Gordan, as well as his guests, had fallen in love with the exquisitely creamy and rich tropical pie brimming with freshly grated coconut and sweet and tangy pineapple in a buttery, rich, flaky crust. Gordan smiled at the memory; everyone had raved about the perfect ending to a delicious meal—everyone, that was, but the constantly dieting Sonja. Howard had insisted on meeting the chef. Gordan always believed the man had been trying to steal the chef from under his nose.
He had been the one shocked when the chef who joined them on the balcony turned out to be an exceptionally lovely woman. Cassy was simply beautiful. The remainder of the evening, he had made polite conversation, but his mind, for once, had not been on business.
He was thinking of a woman of average height with a genuine warmth that was reflected in her dark eyes and in her captivating smile. Her eyes twinkled with humor. She was a confident woman, comfortable with herself and proud of her culinary achievements. He had been both immediately fascinated by and attracted to her.
Gordan smiled thoughtfully. He had been livid when he got around to remembering that she was one of his employees. He did not date members of his staff. It had been a rule he had not even considered breaking until he met Cassy.
Over the years he had grown tired of women who were interested in what he could give them rather than a genuine interest in him. Celibacy had not been a hardship. Empty, emotionless sex had no appeal.
He had known from the beginning that Cassandra Mosley was different. He had no idea what it was about her that caught and held his attention. Perhaps it was her open, friendly attitude toward life; it certainly was not her delectable, curvy figure, simply because it had been concealed beneath her starched cotton chef garb. Even her hair had been hidden. Whatever it was, he knew that he wanted to know everything there was to know about her. His sexual appetite for her was unrelenting.
For the first time in memory his business took a back seat to his personal life. He devoted himself to spending as much time as he could with Cassy. He devoted himself to winning her over.
Gordan chuckled, closing his eyes as if to savor the sweetness of those weeks of discovery. They had spent hours exploring the island, getting to know each other, while slowly but steadfastly falling in love. For the most part, he worked around her hours in the restaurant. She had flatly refused when he suggested that she take a paid leave from her duties.
She had been adamant, refusing to allow him to manipulate her schedule to suit himself. She let him know that she had a temper and was not afraid to stand up for herself or what she believed in.
It got so bad that when they were not together, he had a difficult time keeping his mind off of her. Cassy was never far from his thoughts. Many things had changed over the years, but even after all this time that was the one thing that remained the same.
Also, his desire for her had not altered. If he lived to be a hundred he would never forget that first time she took him inside her body. Gordan whispered her name aloud as he leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. He could almost see her as she stood in front of him on that long-ago night when she had finally said yes.
She’d been so beautiful. His breath quickened and his nostrils flared, as if he could not only see her but also smell her woman’s scent. They had spent the evening together, and ended it with a walk on the beach, or so he thought at the time. After the drive to the colorful cottage situated a few miles from the hotel, she’d invited him inside. Neither of them wanted the night to end as the others before it, with both of them alone. When she invited him in, he was not about to refuse.
Her cottage was small, consisting of a sitting area, a combined kitchen and dining room, and a single bedroom with connecting bath. Once he was seated on the settee, she asked if he cared for something to drink.
Gordan had had enough of waiting. He wanted her— wanted her so intensely that he could not get past that need. He had held a hand out to her, and she had come to him without hesitation. She stood between his spread thighs, her small, delicate fingers intertwined with his. Although she smiled, she was trembling when she leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his.
“Please—I want to be with you.” Then she told him, “You see, Gordan Kramer—I’m in love with you.”
There had been no holding back—they wanted each other too much. Gordan had pulled her onto his lap and deep inside his heart. He had never experienced anything more wonderful or fulfilling than making her his that first time. Knowing he had her trust and her love had been worth the weeks it had taken him to convince her to become his lady. She suited him perfectly both inside and outside of the bedroom.
For a time, his life had been full, balanced between his son, his work, and his lady. He had been happy—happier than he ever thought possible. When they were not together, he looked forward to their next time together.
As time passed, he had managed to even convince himself that the distance didn’t matter. As far as he was concerned, she was more than worth the wait involved until they could see each other again.
He had not been prepared for things to change between them. Perhaps he had even taken what they had for granted. Yet, the demands of a successful business had eventually taken a toll on his free time. He needed to be in South Africa or St. Thomas or Jamaica or Atlanta. He could not get to Martinique, or later, the San Francisco Bay area, where she had relocated when she left the island.
He sighed wearily. How had he gone from thinking nothing could come between them to watching it crumble without being able to put a stop to it?
Even after their confrontation in Atlanta, he had not taken her as seriously as he should have. It had been easier to console himself with the thought that once she had time to cool off, reconsider, she would remember how much they meant to each other.
For the first time, he had no choice but to face the fact that what was wrong between them he might not be able to fix. If nothing else, he knew Cassy had a mind of her own.
He had failed to recognize that they had been in transition for some time. Was it any wonder that they had gradually moved away from their emotional connection? Could they find it again?
Gordan took a deep swallow from his glass, letting the liquor burn its way down his throat; hopefully it would dull the ache in his heart. He needed her. She was a part of him. When had he stopped mattering to her? He certainly had not seen it coming. He had missed all the clues along the way. If he ran his business the way he did his personal life, he would have been bankrupt long ago.
She had been cool and lovely tonight, never letting her eyes meet his for more than an instant. Her voice remained soft and unemotional with only occasional flashes of temper. Her soft body had stiffened when he got too close. Cassy had become a master at keeping him at a distance.
She had gone positively rigid when he cupped her shoulders. It was almost as if she could no longer tolerate his touch. He swore bitterly. He hated the changes in her. The further she pushed him away, the closer he wanted to be.
Gordan growled with frustration deep in his throat, like a wounded animal, as he wondered how he could possibly do what she wanted. How could he let her go? How?
Gordan felt as if he were losing the fight against his own deepening despair. Was it true? Had she stopped loving him? Why else would she decide she no longer wanted him in her life? Surging to his feet, he went out onto the balcony. As he stood at the rail, staring out into the night, waves of mounting fear and despair rushed over him. What if it were already too late? What if he’d lost her? What kind of life would he have without her? No!
“I can’t let her go,” he mumbled, aloud. Not yet, not until she convinced him that she had stopped loving him. Not until then.
If he could gain her trust once, he could do so again. He would woo her back into his arms and into his life, just as he had done four years ago. Only this time, he intended to keep her there.
***
Cassy could not stop shaking, even after she let herself into her room and locked the door firmly behind her. She was overreacting and she knew it. She had practically run from the penthouse as if Gordan was in hot pursuit. She had gone into the classic fright-and-flight pattern after the shock she had received.
How could he have implied that she had been seeing Adam behind his back? And how could she have deliberately let him think she was after Adam? There had been no reason to bring the other man into the conversation. Her decision to end the relationship had nothing to do with anyone other than the two of them.
Cassy was furious with herself for even mentioning the other man’s name, throwing him up to Gordan just because she was hurt and angry. She was a better woman than that.
Her decision to move on had been coming for some time. There was always something keeping them apart—problems with his ex-wife trying to turn his son against him, his career, or her career. Always something.
Gordan’s anger tonight had nothing to do with caring. He was not about to stand quietly by and let any woman walk all over him. And that, in a sense, was what he thought she had done. In his estimation, she had stepped all over his ego and onto his pride. Adding that to her claim to be interested in another man so soon after their breakup was just too much. She might as well have thrown salt onto an open wound, considering the way his marriage had ended. She had not meant to hurt him.
Couldn’t he see that walking away was the hardest thing she had ever done? She had loved that man too hard and too long. Letting go had been sheer torment. Yet, there were no alternatives for them. And the sooner he accepted it, the easier it would be for both of them.
As she sank into a nearby armchair, Cassy knew she needed more—deserved better. She had to remain strong. And she would.
After all, she had survived worse. The loss of her mother at a young age had been heartbreaking. As a young girl, Cassy missed her father, who had been so crushed by his wife’s death that he sent his girls to be cared for by his mother in California, a long way from DC, where they had been born.
It had been harder on Cassy than Sarah because she was younger and did not understand. Thank goodness, they had their grandmother’s love to help pull them both through the loss of their mother.
Sarah had gone back to live with their father and stepmother and twin brothers when she was eighteen, while Cassy had stayed on with their grandmother. Cassy’s first time away had been after high school graduation when she had gone to culinary art college in upstate New York.
She had dated during her vagabond years while she’d been learning her craft. She had met cosmopolitan, sophisticated black men from all over the world. Yet, none of them could touch Gordan’s seductive, masculine charm. He was suave, extremely male, confident in himself and his appeal to the opposite sex.
She had been in love only once before she met Gordan. It had been while she was living and working at a world-famous hotel in Paris. Van was also a chef and from New Orleans. He was a very handsome black man, who owned a restaurant in the heart of the city of lights. It was a fabulous place. Cassy went there for the first time with friends and loved it because of the reminders of home. Van specialized in down-home Louisiana, fire-in-the-belly kind of Creole cuisine.
Van was so handsome and had no shortage of female friends. But he had taken a particular liking to Cassy. He had shown her the wildly romantic city. He had also taken her virginity and given nothing of his own heart in return. She had come to Paris, young, filled with dreams, and naive; she’d left vowing to never let another man get that close again.
For the next ten years, although she dated, she concentrated on making a name for herself as a chef, pushing away all those girlhood thoughts of a home and family of her own.
She had been working in Toronto when she had been approached by Kenneth Kittman, manager of Kramer House—Martinique. While in the city on business, he had sampled several of her desserts. He offered her a job on the spot. She had been thrilled that her reputation as a pastry chef was growing and she was on her way. And she was not about to turn down this opportunity.
Naturally, she had heard of the black multimillionaire who headed Kramer Corporation; who hadn’t? The man had been written up in Ebony, Black Enterprise, and The Wall Street Journal.
When she received the request to prepare a special meal in the owner’s penthouse kitchen, it was an honor. Together, Cassy and the Bradfords had planned a menu for that special night. And she had been determined to do her very best. What she had not planned on was meeting Gordan Kramer.
He had taken things further by dining often in the French restaurant, inviting her to join him for coffee and dessert. Cassy was just beginning to realize that the boss man was interested in more than her cooking.
She had not been prepared for his undivided attention. Although flattered by his interest, she was quickly overwhelmed by his blatant male charm; yet, she was determined to use her head and not let his wealth or good looks influence her. The last thing she needed was some rich playboy, playing with her emotions.
Gordan slowly but steadfastly eliminated her doubts until she could see not what he owned nor his social status, but the man behind it all. It was only then that she fell for him. And she fell hard. There were no half measures on her part.
Wiping away tears, she accepted that she had come a long way from Oakland and her roots if she had to resort to half-truths to get her way. It had been a lousy thing to do and she had not been able to carry it off. Who either of them became involved with should not matter. Neither Jillian’s nor Adam’s name should have been spoken.
It was not that she was being stupid. A man in Gordan’s position would have absolutely no problem replacing her. There was no doubt about it. Gordan was a very attractive man.
Jillian was waiting for him to get Cassy out of his system. Any fool could see how much his lovely assistant cared for him. And Cassy was nobody’s fool.
What was surprising was that Jillian had not already made a move on him. Cassy was certainly no longer a deterrent. The Jillians and the Sonjas of the world were welcome to the man.
Cassy’s mistake was that she had stayed so long. She should have left him over a year ago when she recognized that she was not a priority. She was not even on his list. It was only after she could no longer travel to him that she had to face the truth.
Cassy shuddered. She had wasted years wishing and hoping that Gordan would change. No more! She was moving on, going after what she needed in life. All she had to figure out was how to stop loving him.
When Gordan had touched her on the patio, her heart had virtually stopped beating. It had taken all her resolve not to let him see just how responsive she was to him— and she’d failed. She had started trembling in awareness before he had taken her into his arms. But then, it had always been that way between them. Tonight had been no different. He had caressed her and she had melted deep inside.
Cassy closed her eyes as provocative memories of their loving flashed through her mind. Gordan knew exactly where and how to touch her—how to pleasure her in and out of bed. For a time during the evening, she had wanted nothing more than to let him do what he did so well—make love with her.
He had always been with a sensuous and considerate lover. Physically, he could take care of all her sexual needs; unfortunately, she would end up an emotional wreck—worse off than she was now.
What did he mean when he said she owed him that much? It was true she had sprung her decision on him. And it was true it had taken her a while to build up the nerve to tell him what she wanted, while knowing he wanted just the opposite. And it was true she had been very hurt and angry when she had issued that ultimatum.
Perhaps she had not been particularly fair to him. But did that mean she owed him the time he was asking for? Was she strong enough to do that much and no more? Hadn’t the kisses on the balcony shown her, as nothing else could, how vulnerable she was to the man?
The intrusion of the bedside telephone startled her. “Hello?”
“Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you. It’s Adam.”
“No, you didn’t. Did you have an enjoyable evening?”
“Impossible not to. It was ladies’ night in the hotel’s jazz club. I’d hoped I’d run into you.”
“It’s late, Adam.”
“Can I interest you in a little club-hopping tomorrow night?”
Cassy stopped, swallowing an automatic refusal. She felt as if she was cheating on Gordan, which was ridiculous. She had no reason to feel guilty.
“Cassy?”
Why not? What better way to get over one man than with another? It was clear that what she had been doing was not working to any measurable degree.
“Thank you, Adam. I’d love to go out with you tomorrow evening.”
“Wonderful. Nine?”
“Fine. I’m looking forward to it.”
“So am I. Sorry I called so late.”
“Not a problem. Bye.”