The glass coffeepot was half full, and Caasi poured herself a mug, hugging it to keep her hands occupied.
With her purse clutched under her arm, she wandered out of the kitchen. A large formal dining room contained built-in china cabinets. An array of photographs filled the open wall space. Caasi stopped to examine each one. They left her wondering if Blake had once been married. Nervous apprehension creased her brow. Several pictures of children who vaguely resembled Blake dominated the grouping. Another of an older couple, dark and earthy, captured her attention. Caasi lifted the wooden frame to examine the two faces more closely. These must be his parents. They both had round, dark eyes—wonderful eyes that said so much. Warm, good people. If Caasi ever had the opportunity to meet them, she knew she would enjoy knowing them. They looked to be salt-of-the-earth kind of people.
Another picture rested behind the others; this one was of a large family gathering outside what appeared to be the very house she was in. The willow tree was there, only smaller. The two adults were shown with six children. Blake’s family. He stood out prominently, obviously the eldest.
“My parents,” he explained from behind her.
Caasi hadn’t heard him come in and gave a startled gasp, feeling much like a child caught looking at something she shouldn’t. Her hand shook slightly as she replaced the photograph.
“The children?” she asked hesitatingly.
“My nieces and nephews.”
“You’ve never married?”
Blake’s mouth thinned slightly. “No.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “You said you wanted to talk?”
“Yes.” Her head bobbed.
“Sit down.” His open palm gestured toward the living room.
Caasi moved into the long, narrow living room. A huge fireplace took up an entire wall, and she paused momentarily to admire the oil painting above the mantel. Mount Hood was richly displayed in gray, white, and a forest of green against a backdrop of blue, blue skies.
“Wonderful painting,” she commented casually, looking for the artist’s name and finding none.
“Thanks.”
Caasi sat in a chair where she could continue to study the mountain scene. On closer inspection she found minute details that weren’t readily visible on casual notice. “I really like it. Who’s the artist?”
The small lines about Blake’s mouth hardened. “Me.”
“You!” Caasi gasped. “I didn’t know you did anything like this. Blake, it’s lovely.”
He dismissed the compliment with a short shake of his head. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
“I’m beginning to find that out,” she said on a sober note.
His eyes pinned her to the chair.
Uncomfortable, she cleared her throat before continuing. “As I mentioned, the trip to Seaside went without a hitch. But it didn’t seem right, not having you there.”
“You’ll get used to it.”
“I don’t want to have to do that.”
Blake propelled himself out of the overstuffed chair he had sunk into and stalked to the far side of the room. “My decision’s been made.”
“Change it.”
“No.”
“Blake, listen.” She set her coffee aside and stood. “Today I realized how inconsiderate I’ve been the last few years. Putting it simply, I’ve taken you for granted. You were Dad’s right-hand man. Now you’re mine. I don’t know that I can do the job without you.”
His laugh was sarcastic, cruel. “I have no doubts regarding your ability. More than once I’ve been amazed at your insight and discernment. You’re a magnificent businesswoman, and don’t let anyone tell you different.”
“If I’m so wonderful, why am I losing you?”
He didn’t answer her.
“I’m prepared to double your salary.”
“You overpay me as it is.”
She clenched her fist at her side and stared at the oil painting, searching for some clue to the man she once thought she knew. “Then it isn’t the money.”
“I told you it wasn’t.”
“Then clearly someone else has made you a better offer. Holiday Inn? Hilton?”
“No.” His voice was loud and insistent.
Don’t yell at me, she wanted to shout back, but held her tongue. They’d never argued. For months on end they’d worked together without saying more than a few necessary words to each other. And suddenly everything had changed.
“Caasi.” Her name was issued softly. “I wouldn’t do that to you. I don’t know what I’m planning yet, but I won’t go to work for the competition.”
“What is it you want?” Angrily she hugged her stomach with both arms and whirled around. “I’ve never known you to be unreasonable.”
He was silent for so long, she didn’t know whether he intended to answer.
“You can’t give me what I want.”
“Try me.” She turned back to him, almost desperate. Blake was right; she could manage without him. A replacement could come in, be trained, and suffice, but she wanted him. Trusted him.
His dark gaze fell to her mouth. They stood so close that Caasi could see the flecks of gold in his dark irises. A strange hurt she didn’t understand seemed to show in them. A desire welled in her to ease that pain, but she didn’t know how. Wasn’t that a woman’s job, to comfort? But then, she was a complete failure as a woman.
He reached out and gently touched the side of her face. A warmth radiated from his light caress. “I was planning to take the summer off. Do some hiking. I’ve always wanted to climb mountains, especially Rainier.”
Sadly, Caasi nodded, her eyes captured by his. “I’ve never hiked.” She laughed nervously. “Or climbed.”
“There are lots of things you haven’t done, aren’t there?” His soft voice contained a note of tenderness. He dropped his hand.
Caasi forced her eyes away. Blake didn’t know the half of it. Her gaze fell on the rows of family pictures. “Do … do you like children?” What a ridiculous question, and yet it was one she’d asked of him.
“Very much.”
“Why haven’t you married and raised a houseful? You’ve got the room for it here.”
“The same reason you haven’t, Cupcake.”
Caasi bit her tongue to keep from reminding him not to call her that. The name itself didn’t bother her. Nor did she care if he reminded her of her father. What she didn’t like was Blake thinking of her as a child.
“For the last several years,” he elaborated, “the two of us have been married to Crane Enterprises.”
“But you could have a family and still work for me.” She was grasping at straws and knew it.
“I’m a little too old to start now.”
“Old,” she scoffed. “At thirty-six?”
Blake looked surprised that she knew his age.
“I don’t want to lose you.”
His expression hardened as if her words had displeased him. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Perplexed, she watched him move across the room and pull open the front door.
“You’re angry.”
He forced a long breath. “Yes.”
“But why? What did I say?”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
Her hand sliced through the air. “You keep saying that. I’m well above the age of reason. I have even been known to exhibit some intelligence—”
“And in other ways you’re incredibly stupid,” he interrupted. “Now go before I say something I’ll regret.”
Caasi sucked in her breath. Her shoes made a clicking rattle against the wooden steps as she hurried to her car. She couldn’t get away from Blake fast enough.
Thirty minutes later, still angry and upset, Caasi let herself into the penthouse suite and threw her purse on the bed. Her shoes went next, first the right and then the left. She felt like shouting with frustration.
Dinner arrived and she stared at it with no appetite. No breakfast, a meager lun
ch, and now dinner held no appeal. She should be starved. Steak, potato, baby white asparagus, and a roll, eaten alone, might as well be overbaked, dried-out macaroni and cheese. Eating alone hadn’t bothered her until that night. Why it should now remained a mystery.
The portrait of Blake’s parents came into her mind. How easy it was to picture his mother standing in the kitchen with fresh bread dough rising on the counter. Kids eating breakfast and laughing. How could something she’d never known bother her so much? Children. Family. Home. Each word was as foreign to her as the moon. Yet she felt a terrible, gnawing loss.
Determinedly she took the crusty French roll and bit into it. Hard on the outside, tender inside, exactly right. It was the only thing in her life that was exactly right.
The phone buzzed, which usually meant trouble. Caasi lifted the receiver.
“Mr. Sherrill’s on his way up,” the hotel receptionist informed her cheerfully.
“Thank you,” Caasi answered in a shaky voice. Blake coming here? He’d never been to her private quarters. Maybe when her father was alive, but not since she’d taken over.
Hurriedly she rushed into the bathroom and ran a brush through her hair. Halfway out the door, she whirled around and added a fresh layer of light pink gloss to her lips. Her hands shook, she was rushing so much. She unscrewed the cap from a perfume bottle and added a touch of the expensive French fragrance behind each ear and to the pulse points at her wrists.
Caasi started at the sound of his knock. Pausing to take in a deep, calming breath, she sauntered to the door.
“Why, Blake, what a pleasant surprise,” she said sweetly.
He didn’t look pleased. In fact, he looked much the same as he had when she’d left him earlier.
The feeling of happy surprise drained out of her.
“Go on, change.”
“Change?” She stared at him blankly as he walked inside.
“Clothes,” he supplied.
“You’re not making any sense.”
“Yes, I am,” he refuted. “What you had on last night will do.”
“Do for what?” His attitude was beginning to spark her anger.
“Dancing. That’s what you said you wanted.”
Hot color extended all the way down her neck. “That was after several drinks.”
“You don’t want to dance? Fine.” He lowered himself onto the long couch. “We can sit and drink.”
The dark scowl intimidated her. She’d stood up to angry union leaders, pesky reporters, and a thousand unpleasant situations. Yet one dark glower from Blake and she felt as though she could cry. Her gaze was centered on the carpet, and she noted that in her rush she’d forgotten to put on shoes.
“Caasi?” His voice pounded around the room like thunder.
“I don’t know how to dance,” she shouted. “And don’t yell at me. Understand? The last time I went to a dance I was a college sophomore. Things … have … changed.”
She moved to the window and pretended an interest in the city lights.
Blake moved behind her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. “What you need is a few lessons.”
“Lessons?” she repeated softly. The image that came to her mind was of the times the hotel had booked the ballroom for the students of several local dance studios.
“I’ll be your teacher.” The words were husky and low-pitched. The gentle pressure of his hand turned her toward him.
Submissively, Caasi’s arms dangled at her sides. “What about music?”
“We’ll make our own.” He began to hum softly, a gentle ballad that the piano man had played the night before. “First, place your arms around my neck.” His hands rested lightly on the curve of her hip just below her waist.
Caasi linked her fingers behind his neck. “Like this?”
Their eyes met and he nodded slowly—very slowly, as if the simple action had cost him a great deal. The grooves at the sides of his mouth deepened and he drew her close. His hands slid around to the small of her back, his touch feather-light.
Caasi had to stand on the tips of her toes to fit her body to his. When she eased her weight against him, he went rigid.
“Did I do something wrong?” she asked in a whisper.
“No.” His breath stirred her hair. “You’re doing fine.”
“Why aren’t we moving?”
“Because it feels good just to hold you,” he said in a strange, husky voice.
A flood of warmth filled every pore, and when she raised her eyes she saw that his angry look had been replaced by a gaze so warm and sensuous that she went completely still. She didn’t breathe. She didn’t move. She didn’t blink.
He moved his hand up her back in a slow, rotating action that brought her even closer, more intimately, against him.
“Blake?” Her voice was treacherously low.
His other hand slid behind her neck, and he wove his fingers into her hair. “Yes?” Slowly, Blake lowered his mouth, claiming the trembling softness of hers.
His lips were undemanding, the pressure light and deliciously seductive. But soon the pressure deepened, as if the gentle caress wasn’t enough to satisfy him.
Caasi’s body surged with a warm, glowing excitement. She’d been kissed before, but never had she experienced such a deep, overwhelming response. Her arms locked around his neck.
“Caasi …” He ground out her name on a husky breath. He kissed her again, and she parted her lips in eager welcome. Their mouths strained against each other, seeking a deeper contact.
Blake tore his mouth away and buried his face in her soft throat.
“My goodness,” she whispered breathlessly, “that’s some dance step.”
Blake shuddered lightly and broke the contact. “Go change, or we’ll be late.”
“Be late?” she asked, and blinked.
His fingers traced the questioning creases in her brow, then slid lightly down the side of her cheek and under her chin. “My cousin’s wedding is tonight. If we hurry, we’ll make it to the reception.”
“Will I meet your family?” Somehow that seemed important.
“Everyone. Even a few I’d rather you didn’t know.”
“Oh Blake, I’d like that,” she cried excitedly. “I’d like that very much.”
Blake smiled, one of those rare smiles that came from the eyes. He had beautiful eyes, like his parents, and Caasi couldn’t move. His look held her softly against him.
“Hurry,” he urged.
Reluctantly she let him go and took a step in retreat. “Are you sure what I wore last night will be all right? I have plenty of more formal outfits.”
“It’s fine. But whatever you wear, make sure it has a high neckline.”
“Why?” she asked with a light laugh.
“Because I don’t want any of my relatives ogling you.” He sounded half angry.
Hands on her hips, her mood gay and excited, Caasi laughed. “Honestly, there isn’t that much to ogle at.”
Boldly, his gaze dropped to her rounded fullness as he studied her with silent amusement. “You have ten minutes. If you haven’t appeared by that time, I’ll come in and personally see to your dress.”
The threat was tempting, and with a happy sigh, Caasi hurried out of the room.
Sorting through her wardrobe, she took out a pink-and-green skirt and top. The blouse had a button front, so the option of how much cleavage to reveal was strictly up to her. Purposely she left the top three buttons unfastened, blatantly revealing the hollow between her breasts. Caasi realized she was openly flirting with Blake, but she hadn’t flirted with anyone in so long.
Blake was standing at the window, looking out, when she appeared. He turned and froze, his gaze meeting hers.
“Will I do?” Suddenly she felt uncertain. Idly her fingers played with the buttons of her blouse, fastening the most provocative one.
“You’re beautiful.”
Caasi felt a throb of excitement pulsate through her. “So are you.”
&
nbsp; His look deepened, and he glanced at his watch. Caasi had the impression he couldn’t have told her the time if she’d asked.
“We’d better go.”
“I’ll get a jacket.” Caasi returned to her bedroom and took a sweater from the hanger.
Blake took it out of her hand and held it open, gliding the soft material up her arms. His hands cupped her shoulders and brought her back against him. His breath stirred the hair at the crown of her head.
The sensations Blake was causing were new. So new that Caasi hadn’t time to properly examine them. Not then. Not when his hand held her close to his side as they took her private elevator to the parking garage. Not when he opened the passenger door of the ’57 T-Bird with the convertible top down. Not when he leaned over and lightly brushed his mouth across hers.
The recepion was held in a VFW hall off Sandy Boulevard. The lot was full of cars, the doors to the huge building open while loud music poured into the night.
“Once you meet my relatives you might consider yourself fortunate to be getting rid of me.”
Caasi wished he hadn’t mentioned his resignation, but forced herself to smile in response. “Do you think I could find your replacement here?”
Either he didn’t hear the question or chose to ignore it.
“Hey, Blake, who’s the pretty lady?” A couple of young people strolled toward them. Caasi could remember trying to walk in the same “cool” manner.
The boy who had spoken was chewing a mouthful of gum.
“You toucha my lady and I breaka your head.” Blake’s teasing voice carried a thread of warning.
Caasi doubted that either boy took him seriously.
“These two are my baby cousins.”
“Baby cousins.” The boys groaned. “Hey, man, give us a break.”
“You taking your lady to Rocky Butte?” The second youth was walking backward in front of Blake and Caasi, his arms swinging at his sides.
“Rocky Butte?” Caasi glanced up at Blake.
“The local necking place.” His hand found hers, and Caasi enjoyed the sensation of being linked to this powerful man. “You game?”
“No,” she said, teasing. “I want more dancing lessons first.”
The Trouble with Caasi Page 3
