“You don’t know how I look,” she interrupted, feeling the need to argue, not caring for the way his words made her all gooey inside. Like the heroine on the railroad tracks with a locomotive bearing down. Just like that heroine, she couldn’t get away, the lethal impact inevitable. Lethal Cash. Destructive to her senses.
Her mind struggled for escape, but her body responded to his magnetism, and even though she could move, she stood rooted to the spot. Watching. Waiting. Wanting.
“Wrong. I saw you when I touched your face, traced your lips, felt the texture of your skin.”
“That isn’t seeing me, Cash.” Her voice sounded strained even to her ears.
His eyes searched hers, and she could swear at that moment he wasn’t blind at all. That he could see clear through to her soul. Other than the fading scars, there was no disfigurement to indicate his lack of sight. The irises were a deep, clear blue.
Penetrating and perceptive. Intelligent.
As if he had a direct link to the pain and confusion she suffered as a result of her cancer. To her fear of opening herself up to another man who might crush her emerging feelings before she had time to understand and explore them. And in the middle of his office, in the middle of the morning, in the middle of what was supposed to be a business meeting.
He kissed her. His arms came around her and enveloped her in the overwhelming maleness of him—everything—muscle, bone, scent, texture. Taste.
Had she known him a lifetime, she wouldn’t have reacted any differently. She reveled in his strength, melted into him, inhaled the soapy, fresh smell of his aftershave, opened to the firm persuasion of his mouth. Touched her tongue to the burning heat of his lips.
It went on. A minute. An eternity, and then stopped. A splash of cold water in the face on a hot, hot day. Startling. Making her aware of her surroundings—what they were doing and where they were doing it.
She was a professional and acting in a totally inappropriate manner.
That thought gave her the strength to break free, and she took two steps back.
“We shouldn’t be doing this. Not here. Not now.” She swallowed and cleared her throat.
Cash gave her a break, sighed heavily, and stepped back, letting his hands slide from her shoulders into the side pockets of his jeans. Her gaze inevitably followed. Jeans didn’t do much to hide the effect of their kiss on his body.
“You’re right. But you have to admit—that kiss was…”
“Not going to happen again,” she interrupted.
Cash laughed out loud, breaking some of the tension. “I make no promises.” He walked around the desk, putting some space between them. “So here’s what we’re going to do. You’ve met Suzanna. She’s already said she likes you. Tomorrow night—if I haven’t scared you off—you’ll come for dinner with us as agreed yesterday afternoon. I’m making my famous chili and rice. Nothing fancy. But good. You like beer?”
“I like wine better, but I could drink a beer.”
“Wine it is. We’ll eat, share a few laughs, get to know each other a little better. Friday night, if you’re amenable, I’ll take you dancing. A real date. I’ll put on a sport coat—you can wear a pretty dress. We’ll test fate—see if this is a fluke or if there really is something fanning the flames between us. I’m being honest here. Wearing my heart on my sleeve. I like you. I think you like me. We aren’t kids anymore, and I have a fairly good idea of where I want this to go.
“I get you have reservations. You’ve been hurt, and the residual effect is that you’re extraordinarily cautious. So we’ll take it slow. Engage in a little conversation, eat some good food, share a glass or two of a very fine Napa Sauvignon. Dance to some oldies, and laugh a lot. Then, when you’re comfortable with the thought of us, I’m going to kiss you. You don’t like it—you don’t like me—you say so, I’ll back off, and we’re neighbors only. But I’m warning you now, I’m going to make it hard for you to say no. Sound like a plan?” One corner of his mouth quirked in that half-smile that tantalized her and popped up time and again. The one that spotlighted his dimples. That melted her heart.
Was he kidding? Sound like a plan? It sounded like a dream come true.
How could she say no?
Kate couldn’t have objected if she’d wanted to—which she didn’t. She was that much under his spell already. She bit her lip and nodded.
“Kate,” he drew out her name. “Can’t see, lady. We on for Friday night?”
“We’re on.”
Cash laughed. “Don’t sound so enthusiastic. I’ve already told you I don’t bite.”
Kate huffed playfully. “Said the Big Bad Wolf to Little Red Riding Hood.”
“Come on.” He grinned wickedly. “Let’s get some lunch. You can tell me about Stars of Hope and what I can do to help. But just so we’re clear, I’m not backing off. We have a bond—you know it and I know it. Even Suzanna knows it. I’ll give you some time to get used to the idea, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Oh, he’d made himself perfectly clear.
Just like when she was a little girl and her parents had taken her to an amusement park. She and her dad had ridden the roller coaster, and at the very top, just before a frightening drop to the bottom, the machine had paused. She’d been on the precipice. Unprepared for the descent, knowing it was inevitable.
Standing in front of Cash, she had the very same feeling. On the threshold of a long fall. Not sure if she wanted to move forward, unable to stop the momentum.
His hand wrapped around her arm, the pads of his fingers catching on the delicate silk of her blouse. The friction against her skin sent a tiny shiver of awareness up her spine. So not fair. How could she hope to maintain her defenses when he was so intent on destroying them?
Bewildered, Kate let him guide her from the office as he slipped on his shades and herded her toward the elevators.
She let his words carousel through her mind, trying to justify her attraction to this man while denying her attraction to this man. But vulnerable Kate?
Vulnerable Kate bit her lips in consternation when Cash touched the sensitive place on her inner arm and brushed against the side of her breast. Vulnerable Kate tried to smother the soft gasp that escaped her lips at the jolt of his touch. Vulnerable Kate slid her eyes to the side and watched in conflicted fascination as she saw his lips twitch. Dimpled chin—dimpled cheeks.
A shudder. More cracks in the ice. Damned puddle was growing into a pond.
Speechlessness was never a good thing for a professional fundraiser.
The elevator doors closed. Cash leaned over and whispered in her ear. “No worries, lady. It’s all good. Whatever you’re selling, I’m buying. Everything’s going to work out fine.”
Damn. Another shiver. Kate stepped to the side, putting a little distance between them.
He chuckled.
Holy cow. This man was lethal. His touch, his words, the force of his natural masculinity. Everything. Kate could feel her defenses weakening. Lunch today. Dinner with Suzanna tomorrow night. Dancing Friday. Her head tipped back, and bounced off the elevator wall in frustration. Again with the roller coaster—up, down, around—until her defenses crumbled and her senses soared.
He laughed. Rather loudly this time.
In that moment, Kate was glad he couldn’t see. Cash knew very well what he was doing to her. Just as he could assess the enemy and lead his men into battle, he was confident he could win with her. Narrowing her own eyes, she squinted and made a face at him. This was not funny.
But he didn’t know about her disease. Hadn’t seen the damage. Had no idea of the results. Not yet. And when he did?
Kate pushed the unbidden doubts to the back of her mind. He’d made her want to take a risk, go over the edge of the coaster, take a chance, feel the exhilaration of the fall. Enjoy the ride.
She swung her briefcase at his side. “Stop laughing, Cash,” she ordered. He pretended to be hurt, which actually made her giggle.
It only ma
de him laugh harder.
He’d said he was buying—let him put his money where his mouth was.
Chapter Seven
They were a little early, and the restaurant wasn’t very crowded. Cash ate here often—it was close to the VA, and he rarely packed a lunch. He either ate here or skipped. He led them toward the rear of the room where they would have enough privacy to discuss her foundation and what she wanted from him.
Cash waited at the table for her to be seated. Not for the first time he regretted his sight was so limiting. Everything about this woman appealed to him. She was smart, sassy, kind—and she smelled good enough to eat.
He scooted in beside her—a little close—but she didn’t move away.
A fluttering of paper and plastic distracted him.
“Everything looks good. What are you going to have?” He could see her shape turn his way.
“Burger and a side salad. You?” he asked.
“Grilled chicken Caesar. I try to eat salad for lunch. That way I don’t feel guilty if I splurge on dinner.”
“Tell me you’re not watching your weight,” he commented in a dry tone.
“Show me a woman who isn’t,” she replied with a laugh.
“So…Stars of Hope,” he began as a lead in.
“Stars of Hope was begun a few years ago by three families of US Army Rangers killed in the line of duty. The men belonged to the same unit, were friends and brothers in arms. The families met during their deployment, found they had a lot in common beyond their sons’ service, and became fast friends. When the entire unit was wiped out on a classified mission, the children of the three soldiers had a difficult time. The families pulled together and came up with the idea that a privately funded organization might be able to help surviving families in the short term with financial assistance and educational help for the kids who needed money for college tuition. In a nutshell, that’s Stars of Hope.”
“Does the government make a contribution? Matching funds? Anything like that?”
Kate shook her head. “No. The families want it to be completely private, non-profit. But that doesn’t mean we don’t need input from the VA. At this point, I’m acting as a liaison between the parent organization and your department locally. That’s where you come in. Who needs our help? Is there a special need of which we are unaware?
“We’ve scheduled an event for this summer in conjunction with the city’s Fourth of July celebration. We’ve already set up a committee to design a float for the parade, and we’ll have an information booth with giveaways. We’d like to hold a gala of some sort, invite the mayor and local celebrities. We have the same challenge every year. For the seniors, tuition payments are due promptly upon acceptance. We can’t do that for everyone.”
Cash’s unseeing eyes stared into space, lost in thought. “How many students is the foundation prepared to underwrite?”
“Depends on what we raise. If a student has top grades and qualifies for state scholarships, we can underwrite the balance of his or her tuition. If a student does not qualify for an academic scholarship, we can fund for an associate degree, at a minimum. The point is to offer the sons and daughters of those who have given the ultimate sacrifice a helping hand into a productive future. We can’t do it all for them, but we can help.”
Cash rubbed his chin. “I like it.” He gently elbowed her. “Told you I’d buy what you’re selling. It’s an impressive program. Suggestions for potential recipients are no problem. There may be other ways I can help, and I’m willing.”
He touched her shoulder. Bare. The silken edge of her blouse lay against amazingly soft skin. Her blouse was sleeveless, giving rise to thoughts of a myriad of things he’d like to do to her.
She flinched at his touch. Better go slow—he didn’t want to scare her away before he had a chance to get to know her. At this point, his best chance was to involve himself in her fundraiser. He wanted to see where this would lead with this woman—his best bet was to spend as much time as possible with her. Let her have a chance to get to know him, get to know his daughter.
“You’re an amazing woman, Katherine Sanders. In more ways than one.” Her quick intake of breath was revealing. Had no man paid her compliments in the past? Why was she so icy, so resistant to him?
“I’d be grateful for anything you can do,” she answered in a subdued voice. “But the amazing people are the ones who left their life’s blood on the battlefield. Whatever I can do to help—it won’t be enough. It could never be enough.” She reached over, touched his arm, and squeezed. “Thank you. You, and all the men like you, who gave a piece of themselves for all of us.”
Enveloping her hand with his, he leaned in. “Did my job, nothing more, nothing less. Would do it again if I could.”
“That’s what makes you all so exceptional.”
Delivery of their lunch interrupted the moment. It was a shame. It had been a nice moment.
Cash began talking about Suzanna, and it lightened the mood. Like most vets, he’d accepted her thanks but seemed embarrassed to do so. She couldn’t imagine the degree of courage it took to put one’s life on the line day after day for people you didn’t even know.
Interesting to watch his face as he talked about his daughter. Not only was he incredibly handsome, he seemed to be a good person, a good father. By the end of the hour, she was laughing with him at his daughter’s blatant attempts to find him a girlfriend, and at Sally’s description of Cash.
It must be as hard for a single father as a single mother, not only to be alone in the decisions one must make for the sake of their children, but in the nuances of navigating a social life at the same time. Her heart pinged again. Yet one more thing to like about him.
They finished eating, and she paid the check—she had invited him, after all. He accepted gracefully but reluctantly. She guessed he was accustomed to the man taking care of the bill. The thought made her smile. Big-hearted and traditional. So much to like about this man.
“You know you’re her primary target, right?” His voice interrupted her musings. “All she’s done since she ate your cookies is brag about how pretty you are and what a good cook you are. Definitely number one, Kate. Be forewarned.” He passed her the briefcase on the other side of the bench.
“I’m pretty good at evasive maneuvers.” She tucked one end of her hair behind her ear and slid out of the booth. “As former military, you are, too, I’ll bet. At least enough to outsmart an eleven-year-old girl.”
“Yeah. That’s what I keep telling myself,” he said, gazing directly at her. “But I’m not looking to outsmart her. After all, she’s on my team.”
“Cash,” she protested.
“Okay. Okay. This is a business meeting, but we’re still on for tomorrow night?” He gave in with a laugh—something she noticed he did a lot.
Laugh, that is, not give in. She had a feeling surrender was not in his vocabulary.
“Don’t you think it’s a bit much? All this togetherness? I’ve seen more of you these last few days than I’ve seen my best friends.”
“Is that a problem? Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. Got thick skin,” he teased, with a sideways lift of his chin. As they walked out the door, Kate opened her mouth to reply, only to have the air knocked from her lungs by a man barreling his way through the door to the restaurant.
Cash grabbed one arm, while the offender grabbed the other. Kate struggled to draw in a breath.
“Sorry…” she began as she gazed up into the face of the one person on earth she least wanted to see. Her stomach knotted, and a sour taste coated her mouth.
Bitterness.
Bitterness and reminders of betrayal and pain. Flashbacks flooded her brain. The sweet beginnings of their romance. His initial concern and support when she was diagnosed. And then the hateful remarks, belittling observations, cruel criticisms. The final scene when his repulsed gaze raked her body, followed by the abandonment that crushed her spirit and destroyed her self-esteem.
How had she allowed him such control over her life? Weakened by illness and fear, she’d trusted him. Now she recognized him for what he truly was. An abusive, self-centered man who had no natural empathy for anyone other than himself.
“Excuse me,” the man said, pausing, his hands on her shoulders to steady her.
She stared, dumbfounded, praying he wouldn’t recognize her but would continue on his way.
“I didn’t mean to… Kate? Kate, is that you?” A smile creased his face. He had the gall to appear happy to see her. Acting as if nothing was wrong—as if nothing had happened—as if he were just another old acquaintance.
Douche. She hated the word, but it fit.
“Clark,” she acknowledged, stepping back, a tight fist forming in her chest. A chill flickered through his gaze, and he tightened his grip on her arm. Kate rotated her shoulders, trying to break his grasp.
It didn’t seem to faze him. While his fingers bit into the soft flesh of her inner arms, his face masked his reactions. To a casual observer, their interlude would appear as if two old friends had pleasantly reconnected. Far from it. But Kate wasn’t sick and in an emotionally weakened state any longer. Her lips thinned as she jerked her arm from his grasp.
Eyebrows raised, a haughty smirk filling out his cheeks, Clark lifted his hands, palms out in a gesture of conciliation. Sooner or later they were bound to meet. Had he really expected she would welcome any contact with him? The old Clark hadn’t been so obtuse, but then, she’d made the colossal mistake of loving the “old Clark.”
“Baby—damn, it’s good to see you.” He half-turned and glanced at the crowd milling around them. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to barrel into you like that. Sure you’re okay?” He bent, searching her face, his own lined with concern. “God, you look great—strong and well again. It’s a good look for you. I’m so glad.”
Cash, standing just behind her, moved closer, a muscle pulsing in his jaw. “Kate?” he asked, voicing his concern.
A Little Night Music Page 7
