Kyle did not allow his gaze to stray from her face and waited with a self-imposed stillness. “My brother was supposed to talk to you today.”
“He did.” She inched closer and he exhaled. “It seems like he knew everything. How is it he has access to all of that information? Most of it must be in government files, buried behind walls of red tape.”
“My brother has a private security firm and a lot of military contacts.”
“I see,” she said, in a tone that implied she did not.
Kyle shifted his long legs, changed his position against the balcony. There were things in Kieran’s past he couldn’t discuss, so he hoped she didn’t persist. Luckily, she didn’t seem inclined to pursue the matter.
Cassie tilted her head and met his gaze. “I’m not sure how to feel about having it out in the open. I guess it’s for the best…”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Kieran said that you didn’t ask for specifics.” Pain threaded her voice. When she looked up, her green eyes were alight with defiance.
“I didn’t want to violate your privacy any more than we already had.” He shifted his position and leaned against the railing of the balcony.
“Thank you.” She fidgeted with her hands. “What did he say?”
“Kieran said you’re afraid someone is after you.”
She swallowed, and he could once again feel her fear. It was a palpable living, breathing thing, occupying the space between them. Kyle once again knew frustration and loss, because he had no idea how to defeat her past.
“There’s a man coming after me.” Cassie licked her lips. She struggled for words, arms crossed and held close to her body as she gathered her strength. “His name is Simon Lynch. I received a warning from the FBI that he escaped from prison.”
His instinct was to leap to her defense, but he lacked a tangible opponent. He rocked on his heels, moving away from the railing, and then returned to it with the resurgence of discipline. His hands clenched to form fists as his breathing grew harsh. He wanted to kill the bastard who had dared hurt her, and yet violence had never been his way. He preferred to heal, to create, to build as opposed to the base destruction Kieran favored.
It took Kyle a while to attain enough control to keep his voice level. “Why haven’t you gone to the police for protection?”
She gasped in a hard breath. Her resistance to the bright tears brimming in her green eyes surprised him almost as much as her fortitude. “The last time I trusted the police, Lynch found me. He murdered two FBI agents and impersonated another to get to me. I was in protective custody at the time.”
“So you’re running blind?” he asked softly.
Cassie used the back of her hand to wipe away a stray tear. “Pretty much. The FBI called me Saturday morning to warn me about Lynch’s escape. I grabbed my purse and went out the door with the barest inkling where I’d wind up.”
“Do you think Lynch can find you here?” It crossed his mind to suggest that an official agency might offer her the best protection, but he would not do anything to make her feel unwelcome. When it came down to it, Kieran’s security firm could provide excellent defense from any external threat.
Her voice remained shaky. “God, I hope not. I’ve taken precautions. My address isn’t listed and I use my mother’s maiden name on all my personal accounts. But I don’t know. I just don’t know…”
“You refuse to go to the police?”
“I’m not going to the cops again. I can’t trust them,” Cassie said, more than a little irrational, but he knew better than to argue with her.
“Okay, I understand.”
“God, no matter how far I run, I’m always going to feel like it isn’t far enough.”
His gut tightened. “Promise me you won’t take off without talking to me first.”
She remained silent for so long he thought she’d refuse. But then she bobbed her head in a quick nod of agreement. “Okay, I promise. I trust you.”
Kyle thought about that for a long time. “I’m glad you trusted me enough to tell me.”
She offered him a tentative smile. “I’m glad we talked too.” Cassie glanced down, and ground the ball of her right foot into the deck. “Does this mean we’re purely professional from now on?”
The disappointment in her voice allowed him to speak with complete equanimity. “Strictly platonic, purely professional.” Until she felt comfortable enough to tell him otherwise…
“Okay.” She gave a sharp nod, and her dissatisfaction provided him with all of the assurance he needed to live with the arrangement.
They had reached an accord. Kyle sensed it was the perfect balance between intimacy and impersonal detachment. Cassie had allowed him past her defenses, but only as much as she felt comfortable. He had the good sense to push no further. Better than most, he understood the need for patience with injured creatures.
He titled his head toward the hawk. “I’m going to take our guest here down to the aviary and get her some lunch. Would you like to tag along?”
Cassie’s smile brightened with genuine joy. “I’d love to.”
****
Early Saturday morning found Cassie at loose ends. She had completed her preliminary portfolio of the sketches of the ruined cannery and turned them into Kyle. The next phase of the project depended on the client’s approval, and the elusive Mrs. Lassant wasn’t supposed to get back with them until Monday.
True to his word, Kyle had been a perfect gentleman all week. Together they cultivated a professional, platonic working relationship. Her disappointment knew no bounds, but she accepted his friendship with gratitude. It was more than she’d hoped for following that disastrous first kiss.
After breakfast, Kyle went for a run. The man ran every day and she knew from experience that he would be gone for at least an hour. As much as she appreciated the aesthetic results of his athletic regime—that oh-my-God-to-die-for body—she also despised running with a fiery passion.
Instead, she seized the opportunity to go for a hike and took her drawing materials along, hoping to find a private spot to sketch some of the area’s spectacular scenery. Mr. Arthur’s ruddy face appeared from behind a hedge as she passed through the back gate. The man’s mustache bristled with disapproval and his black eyes gleamed.
“Do not to fall into the ocean.”
Cassie laughed and waved her hand. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.”
“Harrumph.” His shears severed a bunch of branches with an emphatic snap of the blades.
As it turned out, she wound up nowhere near the bluffs overlooking the water. South of the gates, she located a charming gazebo nestled in a small copse of trees. The structure provided seating, shade, and a fantastic view. Everything she needed to work in comfort.
Perhaps an hour later, Shelly found her hiding spot. The petite housekeeper marched toward her, huffing and puffing with exertion. “It’s a lovely morning, Cassie! I was out for my morning constitutional and saw you here. Do you mind if I join you?”
Cassie shaded her eyes and smiled at the housekeeper. She indicated the bench across from her. “Good morning. Please do.”
“Quite a hike out here.” Shelly climbed the two steps into the cypress wood gazebo and took a seat. She wore a long-sleeve white shirt tucked into khaki Capri pants and a wide-brimmed pastel green hat.
“I was surprised to find a gazebo all of the way out here.” Cassie set her drawing pad and pencil on the bench beside her. The morning fog had burned off and the sun shone overhead, bright and beautiful against the pure blue sky. There was not a cloud in sight and a refreshing breeze blew easterly off the ocean.
“The boys’ father built it for their mother as a wedding gift. Emily used to spend hours out here, reading in the shade.”
“That’s nice,” Cassie said with a thoughtful pause to consider the romantic gesture. “It must be wonderful having someone love you that much.”
“Oh, yes,” Shelly said with a sad sigh. “Those
two were very much in love. It was fitting they died together in that awful auto accident, though it was tragic and very hard on the boys. They were sixteen when it happened.”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said, empathizing with Shelly’s grief. She hurt for Kyle and Kieran. “I lost my father when I was nine. I understand.”
Shelly bestowed a nod of understanding upon her. “I’m so sorry about your father, m’dear.”
“Thank you,” she said, and her voice sounded tight, mirroring her clenched throat. She was happy when Shelly changed the topic.
“Have you lived in California long?”
“Yes, since college. I attended San Francisco State University. I have a bachelor’s degree in fine arts.”
“Both the boys spoke of your artistic talent,” Shelly said. “High words of praise—very difficult to come by from those two.”
The older woman stood and crossed to Cassie’s side of the gazebo and settled upon the bench beside her sketchpad. “May I?”
She hesitated but it was already too late. Shelly had the pad in her hands. It would have been rude to refuse, not to mention awkward. “I—uh, sure.”
Shelly flipped open the cover and studied the pencil sketch of the old cannery while Cassie fidgeted. “Extraordinary, my dear,” Shelly said. “You’re very talented.”
“Thank you.” She braced and blushed.
Shelly turned the page and removed the sheet of blank paper protecting the drawing beneath. A soft exclamation escaped the housekeeper. Mouth open, she turned the pad on its side to stare hard at the portrait done in pencil and charcoal.
“Oh, my goodness,” Shelly said, speaking in a hushed tone of awe.
The drawing captured Kyle in profile, rendering the exquisite symmetry of his features with precision. The image depicted so much more than his physical good looks. Cassie had brought the subject to life, revealing his kind expression and gentle soul as he gazed down upon the fiery red-tailed hawk on the ground.
Not fidgeting proved to be harder than Cassie would have thought possible. She bit her lip and succumbed to the impulse. She rung her hands and chewed her lower lip. Shelly’s stunned silence stretched far too long for comfort.
At last, Shelly looked up and beamed. “You see him for who he really is.”
Cassie made no reply, but warm pleasure replaced her embarrassment. She adored the little Irish housekeeper’s insight and sensitivity.
“Would you like the drawing?” She made the offer on impulse, but did not regret having done so once the words passed her lips.
Shelly’s eyes widened with comical surprise and she rocked back, lifting an uncertain hand. “Oh no, oh my. I couldn’t accept something like this. It must have taken you forever to draw it.”
“Please, accept it as a gift of my friendship,” Cassie said, choosing a phrasing which made refusal impossible. She took the sketchpad from Shelly, removed the page, and offered it to the older woman.
“Thank you so much.” Convinced, Shelly accepted the drawing, grasping it by the edges of the page. She wore a rapt expression, mixed gratitude and wonder.
“You’re welcome.” She offered her assurance with a warm smile as she gathered her things. “Would you like to walk back with me?”
“Only if you promise to walk slowly. My old legs don’t go as fast as they used to!”
“I’ll do that.”
On the way back, Shelly broached a whole new subject. “Are you seeing anyone, Cassie?” Well-intentioned speculation peppered the older woman’s voice.
Cassie stumbled over a rock and then caught herself. She cast a sharp glance at the housekeeper. “No, I’m not seeing anyone right now.” Not for the last five years…
“Kyle isn’t dating anyone either,” Shelly said without a hint of shame.
“Shelly!” She felt her cheeks redden at the woman’s audacity.
“Well, you can’t blame a girl for trying,” Shelly said with a wicked chuckle.
“I work for Kyle. It would be…unprofessional.” But the memory of that first kiss, so wicked and wonderful before things went bad, was foremost in her thoughts. Thank God, they were almost to the house.
“Ah, I see how it is then,” Shelly said with a sudden and uncanny insight. With a jaunty tune upon her lips, the housekeeper charged into the house and headed for the kitchen.
“How is it?” Cassie said to empty air. Feeling exposed, she followed at a more sedate pace, only wishing she understood herself. She only knew one thing for certain—Kyle was the best thing to happen to her in years. Did she really want to let an opportunity to know love pass her by because of fear?
****
A brisk rap on Kyle’s bedroom door surprised him in the act of pulling on his pants. Brow arched, he gave one final tug to secure the denim over his ass and fastened the three-button fly. He wore nothing else, bare chest, bare feet. He’d come fresh from the shower, so his hair was wet and tousled from towel drying.
Another soft knock, tentative from the way knuckles were applied to the wood, followed just as he reached the door. He knew it wasn’t Shelly, who rapped brisk and bright, or his brother’s distinctive fist-closed pound. Henry had gone into town for supplies an hour before, leaving only one logical possibility for the identity of the caller.
Kyle yanked open the door and caught Cassie in the act of turning away. Startled, she gasped and spun back to him. Her gaze fell on his naked chest, and her eyes became glued to his body with rapt can’t-look-away fascination.
Kyle grinned. “Hey.”
“Hey.” Cassie blushed and offered him a small smile. She didn’t tear her eyes from his body but rather slid her gaze upward with appreciable tardiness. She stood with her hands behind her and rocked on her heels.
His brow rose, and he waited for her to speak. She appeared tongue-tied, so he said, “What’s up?”
At the same moment, she said, “I’m sorry to intrude.”
They fell silent again, eye-balling one another. At last, Kyle tried again. “You’re not intruding. I was just getting dressed. Let me grab a shirt.”
He turned to locate the button-up shirt laid across the back of a chair. He sensed movement behind him, and to his surprise, discovered Cassandra had followed him into his room. A thrill left him feeling elated. Although they spent a great deal of time together in professional settings, it was the first time she had ventured outside of her comfort zone.
Kyle downplayed his excitement. He buttoned up his shirt and fished a pair of socks from his top dresser drawer and settled on the edge of the bed to pull them on. “What can I do for you?”
“It’s Saturday.”
His eyes lit with laughter, but he managed to keep a straight face. “That it is.”
“We’ve been cooped up here all week. I’m starting to go stir crazy.”
He moved on to pulling on his shoes. “What do you have in mind?”
“Do you have plans already?”
“Not anymore,” he said, and she flushed with pleasure. He stood, ready to go along with anything she suggested.
A sly grin formed on her lips. “I thought I’d start by reminding you that you offered to take me to the aquarium. Then I planned to take you out to dinner, since it’s my turn, and fair’s fair.”
He feigned surprise. “Why, Ms. Claeys, are you asking me on a date?”
Cassie sashayed up to him. A bold hand came to rest on his chest over his heart. “That would depend, Mr. McCleod, on whether I can do so without getting in trouble with my boss.”
Kyle grinned and his white teeth gleamed. “I eat trouble for lunch.”
“Oh, my.” She pantomimed fanning her face with her hand, a fair lady feeling the heat. Her eyelashes fluttered with flirtatious purpose. “Is that a threat?”
“No.” He stared straight into her eyes with such intensity that she blushed that delicious shade of pink that made him want to peel away her clothing to see if her nipples also turned rosy. “It’s a promise.”
Chapter Six<
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Cassie strode arm-in-arm with Kyle along the sidewalk of Monterey’s Cannery Row. She held an enormous stuffed sea otter clutching a fabric shell to its belly from one of the aquarium’s many gift stores. Giddiness left her light headed, heart racing, and close to giggles. The day had passed with a series of touristy adventures—watching the aquarium’s various denizens during their feeding times, handling starfish and petting rays, eating ice cream while gazing out at the ocean. It had been wonderful.
Kyle stowed the stuffed toy in the trunk and reset the security system. They started on the long walk to the Italian restaurant where they planned to dine. When they finally reached the restaurant, her feet were aching something awful. Her stomach rumbled, and she was unhappy to discover about a hundred people milling about in front of the building.
Cassie covered a groan and regarded the line with a frown. “How long do you think the wait is?”
Kyle smiled and wove his way through the gathering to the hostess’s desk. “It shouldn’t be too long…since I happen to have reservations.”
“Oh, you smart man.” She batted her eyelashes. “When did you arrange that?”
“While you were in the gift shop.”
A hostess escorted them to a table for two, lacking the spectacular view of their first date, but secluded enough to offer privacy. After the hostess provided menus and went for their beverages, Cassie glanced around to admire the building’s birch triangle ceiling. Recessed lighting created a soft golden glow overhead. The entire structure was a study in glass and craftsman style woodwork.
“This building is beautiful. It’s a work of art,” she said.
Kyle’s expression struck her as pleased, too much to be a coincidence. She arched her eyebrow. “You designed it, didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “Let’s just say I brought you here for more than the food.”
Learning To Fly Page 7
