His chuckle brought an exchange of curious glances between the youths.
“You’re not going to dance, are you, Blake? That’s for sissies.”
“Wait a few years,” he advised. “It has its advantages.”
They paused in the open doorway. The polished wooden floor was crowded with dancing couples. A five-piece band was playing from a stage at the far right-hand side of the hall. Long tables containing food were against another wall, and several younger children were helping themselves to the trays of sweets. Older couples sat talking in rows of folding chairs.
A sense of wonder filled Caasi. This was a part of Blake. A part of life she had never experienced. “Are you related to all these people?”
“Most of them.”
“But you know everyone here?”
“Everyone.” He looked down at her and smiled. “Come on, I want you to meet my parents.”
As soon as people were aware that Blake had arrived, there were shouts of welcome and raised hands. He responded with his own shouts, then gave Caasi a whispered explanation as to various identities.
“How many uncles do you have?” she asked, astonished.
“Ten uncles and twice as many aunts. I gave up counting cousins.”
“Wow. I love it.” Her face beamed with excitement and the laughter flowed from her, warm and easy.
Blake stopped once and turned her around, placing a hand on each shoulder. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh. Really laugh.”
She smiled up at him. “I don’t know that I have. Not in a long time.”
The bride, in a long, white, flowing gown, the train wrapped around her forearm, giggled and hurried to Blake. “I didn’t think you’d ever get here,” she admonished, and stood on tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Now you have to dance with me.”
Blake laughed and cast a questioning glance at Caasi. “Do you mind?”
“No, of course not.” She stepped aside as Blake took the young woman in his arms. A wide path was cleared as the couple approached the dance floor. People began to clap their hands in time to the music.
Someone bumped against Caasi, and she turned to apologize. “Sorry,” she murmured.
The dark eyes that met hers were cold and unfriendly. The lack of welcome surprised Caasi.
“So you’re the one who’s ruined my brother’s life!”
Three
“Ruined your brother’s life?” Caasi repeated incredulously. “I’m Caasi Crane.” The girl obviously had her confused with someone else. A curious sensation attacked the pit of Caasi’s stomach at the thought of Blake with another woman.
“I know who you are,” the woman continued in angry, hissing tones. “And I know what you’ve done.”
What I’ve done? Caasi’s mind repeated. Those same wonderful eyes that had mesmerized her when she had studied the photo of Blake’s parents were narrowed and hard in the tall woman beside her. Blake’s own eyes darkened with the same deep intensity when he was angry.
“Are you sure you’re talking to the right woman?”
“Oh yes, there’s no doubt. I’d know you …”
Loud applause prevented Caasi from hearing the rest of what the woman was saying.
Caasi watched as the young bride, laughing and breathless, hugged Blake. He was flushed and laughing, but when his gaze found Caasi and saw who was with her, the humor quickly vanished. He kissed the bride, handed her off to the waiting groom, and hurried across the crowded dance floor to Caasi’s side.
“I see Gina has introduced herself,” Blake said, as he folded an arm around Caasi’s shoulders. He smiled down at her, but there was a guarded quality in his gaze.
The eyes of the two women clashed. Something unreadable flickered in Gina’s. Surprise? Warning? Caasi didn’t know.
“We didn’t get around to exchanging names,” Caasi said, as she held out her hand to Blake’s sister. It was important to clear away the misconception Gina had about her.
The hesitation was only minimal before Gina took her hand and shook it lightly.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Blake said, directing his comment to his sister, “I want to introduce Caasi to Mom and Dad.”
“Sure,” Gina said, her voice husky. She cleared her throat and shook her head as if to dispel the picture before her. Her look was confused as she glanced from her brother to Caasi. “I’m sure they’d like that.”
“I know I would.” Caasi didn’t need to be a psychic to feel the finely honed tension between brother and sister. That Gina adored him was obvious just by the way she looked at him. That same reverence had been in the eyes of the young bride. Blake was an integral part of this family, loved and respected. Caasi, on the other hand, belonged to no one; her life had never appeared so empty—just a shell. She’d give everything she owned—the hotels, her money, anything—to be a part of something like this, to experience that overwhelming feeling of belonging and being loved.
Blake was watching her. “You look a hundred miles away.”
“Sorry,” she answered with a feeble smile.
He escorted her to a row of folding chairs. Several older women were gathered in a circle and were leaning forward, chatting busily.
“Mom.” Blake tapped one of the women gently on the shoulder and kissed her cheek affectionately.
“Blake!” his mother cried in a burst of enthusiasm as she stood and embraced her son. “You did come! I knew you wouldn’t disappoint Kathleen.”
The gray-haired woman had changed little from the photo Caasi had seen. Although several years older and plumper, Blake’s mother was almost exactly the same. Warmth, love, and acceptance radiated from every part of her. Caasi had recognized those wonderful qualities in the photo; in person, they became even more evident.
Blake broke the embrace. “I’d like you to meet Caasi Crane.” He turned to Caasi. “My mother, Anne Sherrill.”
“Miss Crane.” Two large hands eagerly enveloped Caasi’s. “We’ve heard so much about you. Meeting you is a long-overdue pleasure.”
“Thank you,” Caasi replied with a wide smile. “I feel the same way.” She couldn’t take her eyes from the older woman. “You’re very like your photo.”
Anne Sherrill looked blank.
“I should explain,” Caasi inserted quickly. “I was at Blake’s house this afternoon.”
“Where’s Dad?” Blake’s arm continued to hold Caasi to his side. She enjoyed the feeling of being coupled with him, the sense of belonging.
Anne Sherrill clucked with mock displeasure. “In the parking lot with two of your uncles.”
Fleetingly Caasi wondered what they were doing in the parking lot but didn’t ask.
Blake’s rich laughter followed. “Do you want me to check on him for you?”
“And have you abandon Miss Crane?” Mrs. Sherrill sounded outraged.
“Please, call me Caasi” was Caasi’s gentle request. “I don’t mind.” The latter comment was directed at Blake. “I’ll stay here and visit with your mother. I wouldn’t mind in the least.”
“I’ll only be a few minutes,” Blake promised. “Mom, keep Caasi company, and don’t let anyone walk away with her.” He kissed his mother on the cheek and whispered something about lambs and wolves. With a knowing smile, his mother nodded.
Caasi had to bite her tongue to keep from asking what the comment had been about.
“Have you eaten?” Anne wanted to know. “With that son of mine, you probably haven’t had a chance to breathe since you walked in the door. Let’s fix you a plate. Not fancy food, mind you.”
Caasi started to protest but realized she was hungry. No, starved. “I’d like that,” she said as she followed Blake’s mother to the row of tables against the wall. The variety of food was amazing, and all home-cooked, from the look of the dishes. It was probably a pot-luck supper, with each family contributing. Thick slices of ham, sausage, and turkey and a dozen huge salads were set out, along with several dishes Caasi didn’t recognize.
“This looks fantastic,” Caasi murmured, as she surveyed the long tables. She helped herself to a slice of ham and a couple small sausage links. The German-style potato salad was thick with bacon and onions, and Caasi spooned a small serving of it alongside the ham. “This should be plenty.”
“Take as much as you like. There’s always food left over, and I hate having to take anything home with me.”
“No, no, this is fine. Thank you.”
They sat down again. Caasi balanced her plate on her knees and took a bite of the potato salad. “This is really delicious.” The delicate blend of flavors wasn’t like anything she’d ever tasted.
“Anne’s German potato salad is the best this side of heaven,” the middle-aged woman on the other side of Caasi commented.
“You made this?” Caasi looked at Anne.
Anne nodded with a pleased grin. “It’s an old family recipe. My mother taught me, and now I’ve handed it down to my daughters.”
Anne Sherrill’s heritage to her daughters included warmth, love, and recipes. Caasi’s was a famous father and a string of hotels, but given the chance she’d gladly have traded.
“No one makes German-style potato salad like Anne,” the other woman continued. When she paused, Anne introduced the woman as Blake’s cousin’s wife.
“What’s in it?” Caasi questioned, before she lifted the fork to her mouth. Her interest was genuine.
Anne ran down a list of ingredients with specific instructions. Nothing was listed in teaspoons; it was all in dashes and sprinkles. Caasi doubted that the family recipe had ever been written down. Caasi had never known her own mother, and at times when growing up had felt a deep sense of loss—but never more than right then. Her father had tutored her so thoroughly in the ways of business and finance. It was only at times like this that Caasi realized how much she missed a mother’s loving influence.
“It’s best to let the flavors blend overnight.”
Caasi picked up on the last bit of information and nodded absently, her thoughts a million miles away.
“You must come to dinner some Sunday.”
“I’d like that,” Caasi said. “I’d like it very much.”
“This is the first time Blake’s brought a woman to a family get-together, isn’t it?” The cousin’s comment came in the form of a question. “Handsome devil, Blake Sherrill. I’ve seen the way women chase after him. Yet he’s never married.”
“No, Blake’s my independent one.”
Caasi paid an inordinate amount of attention to cutting her ham slice. “Why hasn’t he married?”
The hesitation was slight. “I’m not really sure,” Anne supplied thoughtfully. “He loves children. I think he’d like a wife and family, but he just hasn’t found the right woman, that’s all.”
Caasi nodded and lifted a bite of meat to her mouth.
“Is tomorrow too soon?” Anne questioned, and at Caasi’s blank look continued, “For dinner, I mean.”
Mentally Caasi went over Sunday’s schedule. It didn’t matter; she could change whatever had been planned. “I’d enjoy nothing more. What time would you like me?”
Anne wrote the address and time on the back of one of Caasi’s business cards. She wasn’t sure why Blake’s mother had invited her, but it didn’t matter—she was going. Being with his family, Caasi couldn’t help but learn more about the enigmatic man who was leaving her just when she was beginning to know him.
“I think I see Blake coming now,” Anne murmured with a tender smile. “With his father in tow.”
Caasi studied the gentle look on the older woman’s face before scanning the room for Blake. She could barely make out his figure through the crowd of dancers. The faint stirrings of awareness he awakened within her surprised Caasi. She was proud to be with Blake, to meet his family, to be included in this celebration.
Their eyes sought each other’s when he stepped into full view. Hers were soft and welcoming; his, slightly guarded.
“Dad, this is Caasi.”
Blake’s father reached down and took Caasi’s hand, his dark eyes twinkling. “Pretty thing.” The comment was made to no one directly.
“Thank you,” Caasi murmured and blushed.
“Fine bone structure, but a little on the thin side. Always did like high foreheads. It’s a sign of intelligence.”
“Dad.” Blake’s low voice contained a thin note of warning.
“George.” Anne slipped an arm around her husband’s waist. “His tongue gets loose after a beer or two,” Blake’s mother explained to Caasi.
“Would you like to dance?” A corner of Blake’s mouth tilted upward. He looked as if dancing was the last thing he wanted.
“Okay.” Caasi would have preferred to stay and talk more with his parents, but she recognized the wisdom of following Blake onto the polished floor.
The band was playing a polka, and with a quick turn, Blake pulled her into his arms.
Caasi let out a small cry of surprise. She didn’t know how to dance, especially the polka.
“Just follow me,” he instructed. “And pity’s sake, don’t step on my toes with those high heels.”
“Blake,” she pleaded breathlessly. “I can’t dance. I don’t know how to do this.”
“You’re doing fine.” He whirled her around again and again until she was dizzy, her head spinning with the man and the music.
They stopped after the first dance, and Blake brought her a glass of punch. Caasi took one sip and widened her eyes at the potency of the drink.
“Rum?” she quizzed.
“And probably a dab of this and that.”
“Old family recipe,” she said with a teasing smile. “I’m getting in on several of those tonight. Oh Blake, I like your family.”
“They’re an unusual breed, I’ll say that.” His voice was lazy and deep.
“Is Sherrill a German name?”
“No. Dad’s English, or once was. Mom’s the one with the German heritage.”
The band started playing a slow waltz, and Caasi’s eyes were drawn to the dance floor again.
Blake took the cup from her and set it aside. “Shall we?” His eyes met hers, the laughter gone, as he skillfully turned her into his arms.
A confused mixture of emotions whirled in her mind as he slid his arms around her waist, the gentle pressure at the small of her back guiding her movements.
A warmth flowed through her, beginning at his touch and fanning out until she could no longer resist and closed her eyes to its potency.
Caasi placed her head on his shoulder, her face against his neck. The scent of his aftershave attacked her senses. She was filled with the feel and the smell of Blake. It seemed the most natural thing in the world for her tongue to make a lazy foray against his neck, to taste him.
“Caasi.” He groaned. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me.”
“I do,” she murmured. “And I like it. Don’t make me stop.”
He brought her closer, the intimate feel of his body sensuously moving with hers enough to steal her breath.
“Enough,” Blake ground out hoarsely, as if her touch was causing him pain.
Gently his mouth nibbled at her earlobe, and sensations shot through her like a bolt of lightning. “Blake,” she pleaded. “Oh Blake, this feels so good.”
Right away he broke the contact and led her off the dance floor. “Just how much have you had to drink?” he demanded.
Caasi was too stunned to answer. She opened her mouth but found herself speechless.
“Apparently not nearly enough.” She didn’t know why Blake was acting like this. She didn’t know how he could turn from a gentle lover to a tormenting inquisitor in a matter of seconds, either.
They stood only a few feet apart, glaring at each other. Neither spoke.
“Hey, Blake, when are you going to introduce me to your lady?” A low masculine voice broke into the palpable si
lence that stretched between them.
A tall man with a thick mustache over a wide smile came into view. He was about Blake’s age and good-looking in a stylish sport coat. His tie had been loosened, revealing curling black hairs at the base of his throat.
“Johnnie—Caasi. Caasi—Johnnie. My cousin.”
Johnnie chuckled, his eyes roaming over Caasi with obvious interest. “You don’t sound so thrilled that we’re cousins.” The comment was directed at Blake, but his eyes openly assessed Caasi.
“I’m not,” Blake stated bluntly. “Now, if you don’t mind, Caasi and I are having a serious discussion.”
“We are?” she interrupted sweetly. “I thought we were through. I was just saying how thirsty I am and how delicious the punch is.”
Johnnie cocked his head in gentlemanly fashion. “In which case, allow me to escort you to the punch bowl.”
“I’d like that.”
“Caasi.” Blake’s low voice was filled with challenge. “I wouldn’t.”
“Excuse me a minute, Blake,” she returned, ignoring his dark, narrowed look. She placed her arm through Johnnie’s offered elbow and strolled away. She didn’t need to turn around to see that Blake’s eyes were boring holes into her back.
“Like to live dangerously, don’t you?” Johnnie quizzed with a good-natured grin.
Caasi’s lower lip was quivering, and she drew in a shaky breath. “Not really.”
“Then I’d say you enjoy placing others in terminal danger. My life wouldn’t be worth a plugged nickel if Blake could find a way of getting hold of me without causing a scene.”
The thought was so outrageous that Caasi felt her mouth curve with amusement. “Then why are you smiling?” she asked. Johnnie was obviously a charmer, and she found that she liked him.
“I have to admit,” he said with a low chuckle, “it feels good to do one up on Blake. He’s the family hero. Everyone looks up to him. Frankly, I’m jealous.” Johnnie said it with such devilish charm that Caasi couldn’t prevent a small laugh.
“Are you thirsty, or was that an excuse to put Blake in his place?” he queried.
“An excuse,” she murmured wickedly.
The Trouble with Caasi Page 4
