by Jaci Burton
“My mother was mentally ill.” She gave a hopeless laugh. “The diagnosis just depended on what drug cocktail they fed her. By the time I was fifteen, I was caring for the kids. She stayed in her bed all the time. My father was okay when I was little, but then he let his alcoholism get the best of him and became a here-again, gone-again presence. Only came back long enough to get her pregnant and then take off again. Which of course would screw up her meds schedule. One of the nurses took pity on me, told me about a birth control that wouldn’t adversely interact with her drugs. I got it from a clinic, saying it was for me, and put it into her food after that.”
Lucas hoped Max wouldn’t return too soon. It was an odd setting for it, but he found himself blessed by this quiet moment, just the two of them, her opening up to him at last, trusting him. “How did you get to Steve Pickard?”
“In high school, I was doing early college coursework for a business degree. Did an internship with him. He learned about my situation, and instead of seeing me as a liability, he groomed me. He took more than a chance on me. He saved me, and my family.”
The truth of it was obvious from the emotion that crept in her voice. Lucas made a mental note to put Pickard Industries at the top of the list of those who could ask K&A for anything.
Cass was silent a moment, remembering when Steve had cornered her in a cubicle, a defensive seventeen-year-old, and told her he was going to pay for a part-time nanny to allow her to expand her studies, go to a local college for her degree. Before she’d been able to reject it, he’d told her flatly that she was an investment. “You’re a damn teenager, raising a bunch of kids as if they were your own. I’ve heard you on this phone every other day, handling social workers, police, doctors, nurses, your own fucked-up parents. You’ve done all that, managed to keep your family together and worked this job, balanced it with school. Anyone who has those skills has the makings of the best negotiator I can buy.”
He’d been a frequent visitor at her home ever since, particularly at holidays. He’d become a grandfatherly figure to Nate, taking him out on trips, doing guy things. Otherwise the little boy would have been raised only by females, since she’d obtained restraining orders against both his father and older brother, with George’s help.
“You’ve denied yourself relationships to protect them.”
“Yes,” she snapped, defensiveness surging forward again. “That’s what you do when you have kids. I have four sisters, Lucas, four very pretty sisters, not that that matters, from ages eight to sixteen.”
Catching her chin, he forced her face up. “You don’t think I—”
“No. No.” She recalled herself enough to close her hand on his, realizing his comment had been an observation, not an accusation at her prolonged silence. “I know you would never. But the news is full of women who let their personal needs interfere with their first responsibility, to their children. And these girls and Nate have dealt with so much. They require a stable influence in their life, one person who puts them first.”
“You’re right. They do.” He held her gaze. “Part of teaching kids about life is letting them see a healthy, loving relationship between two people that includes them, doesn’t leave them out. But it should also teach them they don’t get to be number one in every situation. Life is about give and take, sharing. Their big sister deserves a life, too, if she’s busting her ass to give them everything they need.”
She rubbed her forehead. “Lucas, I’m just not sure—”
“When did the corset come into it?” He glanced toward the garment, still folded on the seat, but then brought his attention back to her neckline. Because it was his shirt, he didn’t need to slip a button to let his finger play along the curve of her breast in the opening, using a silken lock of her hair to tease the skin. Cassandra was mesmerized by it, the intent way he looked at her body. At her. She swallowed.
“You’re trying to distract me.”
“Is it working?” His eyes were even more silver in this light, she noticed, his brows a tarnished gold. No man should have a nose that straight, which now coaxed the trail of her fingertips, down to his lips, which pressed against them, a lingering kiss as she drew away, considered him.
“There were some really rough days,” she relented. “Fighting with social workers, my mother’s doctors, the police, when Jeremy acted up. Trying to keep my dad out of our lives. One day, I just lost it at the family services office. When I was screaming and crying, some part of me stepped outside myself, took a hard look. Not just at me, but the people around me. I realized I looked just like everyone else there. Run down by life, my behavior and my appearance resulting in a complete lack of credibility. I started paying attention to people who commanded respect, how they handled themselves and spoke, and realized it had nothing to do with money. It had to do with confidence and self-respect.”
“And the corsets?” he persisted. “How did that happen?”
She colored a little. “If you laugh, I will smack you.”
He forced a smile. “I won’t laugh.” In truth, Lucas didn’t feel anything like laughing.
“The night after that happened, I couldn’t sleep. I caught one of those black-and-white movies based on a Jane Austen novel. Looking at the women in corsets, I realized how constrained and elegant they had to be, and figured the outfit helped them maintain that composure. During that time period, everything had a required behavior, so they probably felt like screaming, too.” Humor flickered over her soft mouth, then she glanced at the corset. “The first time I bought one secondhand, I felt silly, but when I put it on, I didn’t. Controlled by that garment, I was in control of myself. People don’t challenge people who approach things calmly, prepared to answer hard questions without making it personal. But you’re right.” Her gaze moved to his face, his strong neck, the breadth of his shoulders, feeling the controlling power of his arms around her. “It can become about something else.”
She trembled a little in his arms when his expression heated at her words. “So here I am. Me and the part-time nanny, Mrs. Pitt, raised the kids. I got my degree, built my reputation in the firm, and now earn a salary that took us out of the corporate housing Steve made me accept, foiling my stubborn pride with concerns about the kids’ safety, and into a seven-bedroom in the Lakeshore area.”
Lucas whistled. “Pretty amazing accomplishment. Lakeshore.”
“You bet your ass.”
Lucas saw fire flicker in her again with the words. While he wanted to be the one to absorb her tears, give her comfort, he was glad to see the spark return. Fanning the flame, he brought her hand to his lips to tease her knuckles with his mouth, liking the way she focused on it, her mouth going soft, giving him all sorts of ideas. But he had one more difficult question. “Where is she now, your mother?”
“She died, several years ago.” When she tried to draw away, he tightened his grasp and she lifted her shadowed face to his. “Got into her pills and OD’d. I blamed myself for that. I kept her at home instead of a facility because I thought that was what she needed, but we couldn’t watch her the way they could have. Anyhow, I had to let it go, because I just don’t have time to think about it, you know?”
And can’t afford where the emotions would take her, Lucas thought.
“I couldn’t save her, and to be honest, I don’t know if she wanted to be saved.” She drew an unsteady breath. “So that’s it. I come with five kids who command the lion’s share of my attention, along with my work. A romantic dinner will get interrupted by a crisis involving Cheerios being superglued into someone’s hair. Sex is something you book in advance or steal five minutes in a park like a pair of teenagers, because there’s little privacy at home. And I won’t bring a man into their lives unless he’s wanting to be part of it, not just wanting to have me.” On this her chin firmed, eyes resolute. “I may not be able to say no to the sex you’re offering, but I can’t take it near my siblings. They latch on to an adult male far too quickly. I’m not saying that if yo
u walk through the door, you’re agreeing to a life commitment, but you’ve got to care and think it’s possible.”
“I’m more concerned as to whether you think it’s possible.” He touched her face. “Because I do. I am sorry, Cass. About all of it. Especially your brother. You feel like you’ve failed because you can’t save him yourself, but to me, it sounds like you already saved five other lives. I was right, what went through my mind that day, when I saw you in the Berkshires.”
When she raised a curious brow, he drew her back to his mouth, pausing just before their lips touched. “I told myself, ‘Lucas, you’ve just found the most amazing woman you’ll ever meet. Don’t let her get away.’ ”
Nine
Cass’s Lakeshore brick home had a welcoming style, with potted plants on the front porch, a circular driveway, and a wide lawn. It was positioned in a quiet neighborhood laid out well for children playing, people walking pets.
After they went through the wrought iron gate, Cass nodding to the security guard, Lucas saw a teenager on the front stoop doing homework, while a little boy of about five years worked his way around the driveway on a bike with training wheels.
As the limo pulled to a halt, the teenager got up, a brown-eyed girl with Cass’s blond hair. Pretty enough to already be attracting men’s eyes, she could use an older brother looking out for her. That was his first thought. Of course, something about this girl’s firm chin and direct gaze, so much like her sister’s, suggested she wouldn’t take kindly to that idea.
When Cass got out of the car, Lucas understood why she’d wanted so much to go home after the ugliness with Jeremy. She’d barely dropped to one knee before Nate had launched himself off the bike and at her, wrapping his arms around her neck.
“Mommy!” Lucas’s surprise at the address was distracted by the child’s grin, competition for the brightness of sunshine. He was a younger, far less haggard version of his brother. After a brutal squeeze, he released her to gesture to the bike. “I’m riding. Marcie says I’m doing good.”
“You are. I saw, coming up the driveway. Nate, Marcie, this is my friend, Mr. Adler. He works for K&A,” she added to Marcie.
“You’re one of the wunderkind.” Marcie gave him a shrewd assessment. “The CFO.”
“Your sister’s mentioned me?”
“Oh, yeah. She—”
“I mentioned all of you.” Cass shot Marcie a narrow glance. “Marcie is already studying business.”
Marcie gave her an odd look, but then shifted her attention back to Lucas. “I looked you up on the Internet. Really clever business model presentation to Harvard Business School, by the way. But where does Matt Kensington find you guys? Vegas strip shows?”
As her sister made a strangled sound, Lucas bit back a grin. “That’s an HR recruiting secret,” he commented gravely. “I trust you won’t betray our confidence.”
“Marcie.” Cass sent her a quelling look. “Where’s everyone else?”
“Out back. Nate just wanted to be here when you called and said you were coming home.”
“Mommy, look.” Nate rattled past again.
As Cass smiled at him, she murmured to Lucas, “Nate’s always called me Mommy. I’m the only mom he’s ever known.”
Any other time, she could have managed that without the quaver in her voice, but it had been that kind of day. As she felt Marcie studying her, she cursed Lucas’s intuition when he discreetly opted to fall in step with the little boy, moving out of earshot.
“It was Jeremy again, wasn’t it? You have the pinched look.”
Cass lifted a shoulder. “I picked him up, he’s off again. Let’s not talk about it, okay? Not in front of company.”
“Looks like company that stuck with you through it.” Marcie sent a more thoughtful look after Lucas, but then shifted to an examination of her older sister’s appearance. Cass pressed her lips together under the uncomfortable appraisal, determined not to say a word to explain the man’s shirt and suit coat loose over her skirt. A suit coat that matched Lucas’s trousers. Thank God she had it, though, or the bright sunlight would have shown she wore nothing under the shirt.
Surprisingly, however, Marcie held her questions while Cass focused on Lucas. The little boy was jabbering at him. When he made a wobbling turn, Lucas’s hand steadied the seat of the bike as they continued their circuit.
“Holy God, Cass,” Marcie said at last. “I saw the pictures, but I didn’t think they made them that pretty without wings. Or air-brushing.”
“You should see the rest of the team,” Cass relented. “They’re just about as bad.”
“Just about? So you think he’s the cutest one, then?”
“Objectively, I’d have to say so, but it’s mere degrees.”
Marcie tucked her tongue into her cheek. “That Ben O’Callahan looks more my type.”
“He’s probably about fifteen years older than you.”
“So? If he was immortal, like Superman, it wouldn’t matter. Ours could be a timeless love. Do you think they do internships? I could try to trap him in the mailroom or something.”
“Oh, God.” Cass elbowed her sister. But her tensions were easing, being here at home. Marcie could drive her crazy, but teenage silliness like this helped Cass more than her younger sister knew.
If she entertained for even a moment that Lucas could become part of her life, she knew that would mean the wunderkind would become part of it as well. Thinking of Ben around her sister almost made her laugh. She knew he’d flirt, making Marcie feel pretty and special, but fend her off appropriately, taking on a big brother role.
It made her wonder if the Knights of the Board Room nomenclature had come about because of what women’s intuition detected about them. They were decent, honorable men. She’d directly experienced it when they stood around her in that tight circle, an unsettling memory under the circumstances, but she couldn’t deny it had been a warm one, strangely similar to the welcome of Nate’s greeting.
Unconditional acceptance.
“He’s the cyclist, isn’t he?” Now Jessica, her twelve-year-old sister, was on the porch, wearing knee pads. “Does he know anything about bike chains? Mine came off and something’s bent, so I can’t get it back on.”
“How did it do that?”
“When I fell off. I was trying to turn on the ramp—”
“Where is your helmet? I told you that you’re not allowed to do trick riding unless you’ve got it on. Marcie—”
“She had it on last time I saw her. I can’t watch her every minute.” Marcie fired up.
“I told you when Mrs. Pitt had to cut back her hours, you could watch them in the afternoon and I’d pay you for that. You said you could handle it.” Not for the first time, Cassandra wondered why she could defuse arguments efficiently in a board room, but at home one irritation could set off a firestorm. And this was an ongoing one between her and Marcie.
“It wasn’t her fault, Cass—” Jess jumped into the fray.
“Ladies. Someone mentioned something about a bike chain?” Lucas stood to their left, a steadying hand on Nate’s shoulder while the little boy, his expression uncertain, looked between them.
“He knows how to fix it,” Marcie said before Cassandra could head her off.
“Marcie, he’s wearing a suit. He’s not here to—”
“Do you wear a helmet?” Jessica asked hotly. “I’ve seen pictures of people your age, when they were little, and they didn’t wear helmets.”
“Nope, we didn’t. Not way back then,” Lucas confirmed. “We had bigger things to think about. Like dinosaurs and the ice age.”
Jessica narrowed her eyes, undeterred. “So you didn’t need them.”
“No, of course not,” Lucas agreed. “Overprotective, overrated”—his head jerked, a tic, twice, before he continued without blinking an eye—“hogwash.” Making a wall-eyed look, he feigned a stagger around Nate’s bike. “Not a problem at all. Your sister’s been kind enough to wipe the drool off my chi
n when I can’t seem to control it. Brain damage, you know.”
Jessica tried to look unimpressed, but Lucas was far too handsome and charming. In a matter of minutes, Cass saw him win the girls over. Any woman whose hormones had kicked in would be powerless against him, she knew.
“Will you fix my bike chain?” Jess asked.
“Sure,” he said. “Just give me a minute to make a phone call, and I’ll be right there.” He glanced at Cass, moved back toward the white limo.
As she watched him, she realized he made the perfect prince on the white horse. The way he moved toward the car, the sunlight glittering across his hair. Broad shoulders and muscled arms. Cass remembered the fairy tales, and couldn’t help the twinge, despite her appalled response to it. She didn’t need rescuing. She’d rescued them all on her own. She wasn’t insolvent, not by a long shot. She had college tuition covered for Marcie. Her own 401k. A home.
So why was it he made her feel rescued with just a smile, a look of those concerned eyes? God, she needed to get rid of him.
When she turned around, her sisters burst into giggles, apparently having caught her staring after him like a lovestruck moonbat.
She definitely needed to get rid of him.
Instead, he stayed for the next several hours, sending the limo away. He fixed Jess’s bike in no time, with only one trip needed to their well-organized tool shed. Cass sat on the back steps nearby with Marcie and let her sisters and Nate take over conversation with him, knowing she was testing him, knowing she shouldn’t be giving him that encouragement. But damn it and big surprise, he was good with them.
In contrast to his frank affability with the outgoing Jess and confident Marcie, as well as his more male interaction with Nate, he was quiet and patient with shy ten-year-old Talia, letting her approach at her own pace, become part of the group of girls without saying much. Next thing she knew, he was talking to her about the book she was carrying, coaxing her to tell him about it while he tuned up Jess’s gears.
