“What?” he said, smiling down at Casey, his hand stroking her back.
“So, why did you ask me to meet you here in Greenport?”
“I want to take you for a boat ride.”
“Tonight?”
He nodded. “I’m docked in a slip right here at the park’s marina.” He bowed his head to her ear. “And I’ve got some great CD’s if you want more music.”
With his hand on her back, Drew led Casey to the marina.
“Which boat is yours?”
“That fifty-foot Ferretti. I call her Pretty Baby.”
“But…that looks like a yacht.”
“It is. A small one. And it’s fast. Moves great in the water.”
Casey had lived near the Sound her whole life, but the people she knew owned fishing boats or speedboats or modest sailboats. The only time she’d been on a yacht was with Jeff.
“You’re giving me one of those assessing looks again,” Drew said.
“Was I?” He is not Jeff. He is not anything like him.
And she kept telling herself that until she got completely caught up by the hum and swoosh of Pretty Baby traveling into Gardiner’s Bay and out into the Atlantic, the boat’s lights shimmering on the water, the exhilarating sea air in her face.
They sat up on the fly bridge with nothing but the inky sky full of stars overhead. Casey relaxed next to Drew on the wide seat behind the controls.
He kept glancing at her. “Like it?”
“Mmm. It’s wonderful.”
After a while the cold air made her shiver. Drew noticed and rubbed his hand over her arm. “Have you eaten?”
“Had a big lunch.” One I’d like to forget.
“But it’s past dinner already. And I’ve seen the way you wolf down food. You’re not one of those women who likes to starve herself.”
“I’d be insulted by your rude description of my eating habits if it weren’t so embarrassingly accurate. Truth is, if I were in a dance company I’d have to lose some pounds.”
“You’re kidding. You have the most perfect body I’ve ever seen.”
She gaped at him. Although other men had sometimes flattered her in the past she could never quite believe them. Casey had never regarded herself as a beauty. Beneath the surface ran a silent stream of self-doubt that constantly evoked that feeling of “who me?” whenever fielding compliments.
“Thanks. You’re not too bad in that department either,” she mumbled. But her mind’s high-speed processor went to work trying desperately to compute the data because with Drew it actually meant something to her. She thought of all those supermodel beauties he dated and couldn’t help but wonder if this was merely part of the Drew Byrne womanizer spiel. But then he brushed a tender kiss on her cheek and made her feel like a blushing teen.
When it looked like they were headed back to the coastline an odd disappointment filled Casey. She loved being out here alone with Drew. Their conversations — and arguments — were always stimulating, but neither of them had said a word in the last fifteen or twenty minutes. They just shared the silence of this beautiful night. And it felt every bit as complete. And magical.
Drew did not go back yet to the marina. He pulled the boat into a cove-like area and dropped anchor.
“Let’s go inside where you’ll be warmer. I’ve got some food.”
She followed him down to the main deck. He stopped at the half-sized refrigerator in the kitchen area and took out a bottle of wine, a North Fork chardonnay. Plus a tray of tea sandwiches.
“Don’t tell me you made those,” Casey said, snatching one that turned out to be a delicious salmon salad.
“Becky. My cook at home.” He handed her cloth napkins and two wine glasses.
Casey thought Pretty Baby’s interior looked better than her living room. Long, sleek lounge sofas, a hardwood dining table, even a desk in one corner. They noshed and drank, the sea air intoxicating her as much as the wine. Drew sat close, his shoulder and thigh pressing against hers, the warmth and weight of him making her pulse do somersaults.
Drew clinked his glass to Casey’s. “A toast to the studio we’re going to find.” He moved his face closer. “And how hot you looked riding the carousel.”
Casey smiled and pulled away, warring inside between a desire to climb all over Drew ripping his clothes off and the voice in her head that knew she should tell him this had to be a platonic relationship. All business from here on.
She avoided answering to either side by gulping more wine and moving to a safer subject. “Ever hear of that TV show Got Moves?”
“Sure. Even saw it a couple times. With Josh.”
“Well, he’s going to be on it. Remember that dance he did at the bazaar with my student group? I sent in an audition CD, and we made the cut.”
His face lit up. “That’s incredible. Let’s go out to dinner tomorrow to celebrate.”
“Better not. I’m superstitious. Wouldn’t want to celebrate before we even begin. Something could happen where it all falls through. Or more likely, we get booted out of the season competition in the first round.”
“We’ll wait then.” He sounded disappointed. “But I still think getting on the show at all deserves something special. I’ll bet there are hundreds of groups trying for it.”
“Probably.”
“Okay, we’ll wait till it’s over. But win, lose or draw, we’ve still got a date for a celebration dinner. Agreed?”
“Agreed.” She looked down, feeling suddenly shy.
“What it is, Casey?”
She sipped her wine. “Oh, I know what I do is just kind of silly to most people.”
“Not to the kids. It means everything to Josh. I was astonished at what you had him doing. And the whole group looked really clean and professional.”
“They’re my most talented students. And they work hard.”
“But you give them something to work for. And show them how. Not everybody can do that. I know that first day we met I was really obnoxious, but the truth is I admire what you do.” He refilled her glass. “To Casey, an inspiration.”
She smiled at Drew, blinking back tears. This was the kind of praise the little girl inside had hoped to get from her mother this afternoon. But her mother had made it so clear how insignificant Casey’s efforts were next to Jenna’s that she hadn’t even bothered to tell her.
Picking up on her sad thoughts, Drew asked, “What’s wrong?”
Wow, could he ever tune in to her. “Family stuff. You don’t want to hear it.”
He took her hand and threaded his fingers through hers. “Yes, I do. I already told you stuff about my dad.”
Casey began to recount the difficult visit to her mom’s this afternoon. She hadn’t met too many males who were good listeners. And she sure as heck wouldn’t have expected it of the arrogant, self-centered man who’d barged into her dance studio. But Drew gave her such focused attention she found herself opening up about her father dying, her mother’s drinking problem, Jenna’s success, and her own struggles to figure out where she could possibly fit in this crazy world.
When she paused, he surprised her by saying, “I envy you.”
“What?”
“My path was cut out for me from the time I was born. I suppose I could’ve rebelled against my dad and his plan for me to run the family business. But I’d been indoctrinated at such an early age that it would’ve required having a different goal I wanted so badly I was willing to reject the very foundations of my life.”
“Do you like running your business?”
He poured more wine. “I like winning. Whether or not I like the process is something I never took the time to think about. That’s one reason you’re so refreshing to me, Casey. You don’t just go through the motions of your life. You’re right there, present and alive to it all.”
“That’s the lure of dance. It can only happen in the moment. And all your thoughts and feelings have to be alive and aware. Difficult movements, especially when they’r
e sustained through a whole dance, require an extreme sort of consciousness. Most of the arts can pull you in and make you focus that way. I think studying them is a perfect antidote to the ADHD issues plaguing kids.”
“You should have a whole performing arts school.”
Casey rolled her eyes. “I used to dream of that in my less realistic days.”
Drew gazed at her a few moments, and Casey thought he was about to kiss her. But instead he said, “I figured out who you remind me of. My grandmother.”
His grandmother? Oh, that’s sexy. She was about to ask if that meant she was old fashioned, but then Drew began to talk.
He spoke in a somber tone she’d never heard from him, devoid of the sarcastic inflection he often used. Casey sat silently as he told her about the woman who’d taken care of him in the years when his parents’ marriage was falling apart and raised him after his mother ran off with her lover.
“Everything else in my life was unstable. And phony. My father’s mother was the only thing that was real and true. She never judged me or tried to manipulate me into filling some agenda of hers. Like my dad did. Or like most women I meet. Hell, the minute they find out how much I’m worth, the games start. I’m played with tricks and lies. Always somebody trying to put one over on me.”
He brushed Casey’s cheek. “But you. You’re straight down the line. No deception. No angles. The real deal.”
The warmth spreading through her stopped cold as Casey remembered Madame Lumina. Should she tell him? Explain how it happened? That she’d had no intention of deceiving him?
Except she wasn’t totally innocent. She hadn’t been able to resist giving him tiny psychic nudges in her direction. Then there were those things he’d said about his attraction to her. He’d be embarrassed. And furious.
No. She couldn’t tell him. She just had to hope he would never call back for session number three, allowing her dark little secret to remain forever hidden in the past.
Drew leaned forward. Cupping her face in his hands, his mouth claimed hers with a kiss that turned Casey to butter. She felt herself tremble, tried not to, told herself this was her chance to protest, to pull back, to tell him to take her home.
But she couldn’t make herself do it. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Drew. His hand went to her breast. Her nipple hardened against his palm. Bunching his shirt in her fists, she returned his kisses with a fervor that surprised her.
He bundled Casey in his arms and carried her downstairs to a spacious bedroom paneled in tawny wood, lined with mirrors and wall-to-wall beige carpet. Twinkling lights glowed in the ceiling. Deep chocolate linens covered the wide bed.
Tonight he took her slowly, carefully, tenderly. Rocking her along with the gentle motion of the boat. In the midst of it all, her mind stopped protesting. And at some point she found herself struck by the wondrous thought that they had progressed from having sex to making love.
Chapter Seventeen
Over the next three and a half weeks Casey spent each night with Drew’s hands touching her, his lips at her ear murmuring sweet things, his skin wet and slick against hers. She tasted every part of him, gloried in the scent of him, the feel of his hair tickling her cheek and the sheer power of his hard body when he drove himself deep inside her.
Even when they’d part after taking in a movie or looking at possible properties, Drew would show up later and climb into her bed. Once he’d actually come out and said to her, “I can’t get through the night without you next to me.”
Unlike Casey, Drew loved early morning. He’d wake her up and make her jog with him down to Bailie Beach on the Sound. When they returned, filled with ions and salt air and sunrise kisses, they’d put coffee on and make love while it brewed.
He never ate breakfast. Just gulped down a fast cup of java and raced out the door. When he was gone Casey sat in her kitchen with her cats, replaying every word, every look, every touch. She knew she was treading dangerous ground, believing he was falling for her. But she could feel it so clearly whenever they were together. And several times now Drew had gazed at her with eyes that spoke of love.
But then she’d ask herself, What if I’m wrong? What if all I’m seeing is a projection of my own feelings? What if it’s just the dreamer in me getting carried away?
Casey knew she ought to be guarding her heart before she fell so hard she couldn’t turn back. Except she also knew it was already too late.
***
Drew ambled along the golf course with his father, the morning dew wetting his shoes. Walking the link’s eighteen holes with its hills and fairways served as a major part of his dad’s healthy heart regimen. An ocean breeze kicked up, and Drew immediately thought of Casey on his boat, her chestnut hair whipping about in the wind.
No wonder he’d missed his last putt. Everything he saw, smelled, heard or touched reminded him of Casey. After that first night with her he hadn’t been able to stop. For almost a month now he’d seen her every day, either looking at property or going to dinner, boating, jogging or doing dumb errands together — but always ending the day with Casey naked in his arms.
That wasn’t really it, though. The sex. Sure, Casey was phenomenal, but it was what he felt during their sex that had him hooked. What he felt deep inside every time he was in the same room with Casey.
He’d tried going a day without seeing her. Didn’t want her getting any female ideas about a “relationship.” Told her he was busy, even set up a night out with a babe so hot any man would go nuts over her. Last minute he cancelled and raced to the studio in North Cove desperate to fill that empty hollow in his chest. The place inside him that needed Casey.
But Drew wasn’t too keen on a woman having that kind of power over him. He told himself it would fade, although some part of him didn’t want that to happen.
And that scared the hell out of Drew.
Bending slightly forward, Andrew Sr. crooked his right arm and followed through with some light practice swings. “So anyway, I was talking to Harry Von Alston the other day.”
Drew cringed. Here we go.
“His baby girl is coming back from Europe. Been out seeing the world.”
“Baby? Amber is a sophisticated twenty-seven-year-old, and she’s been around the world all right.”
“She’s still Harry’s pride and joy.”
“I’m happy for him.”
Andrew Sr. turned to Julio, his caddy. After a few nods and murmurings, he meandered over to the ball, armed with his shiny wedge. “I don’t have to remind you that the contract for Von Alston Paper Products is up for restart. And we both know how much money we’re talking about here. While we speak, Lyle Trucking is courting Harry Von Alston. From what I hear they’re offering him a sweetheart package that undercuts our current price. We can’t let that happen.”
“Who told you this?
“Oh, a little birdie named Gavin Rogers over at GAI.”
Gavin Rogers worked with Gilbrier Assets International. A clever weasel with a penchant for leaking the inside gravy to his favorite clients. Drew gave him mixed reviews since there were a few instances when his intel on the sly helped Byrne Trucking avert some major financial icebergs. “Speaking of birdies, Dad, maybe you should just concentrate on making that shot. Let’s save the board room chat for the Nineteenth hole.”
“Birdie? I’m going for a triple bogey. You’re the one who’s always shooting under, but you’re playing like crap today.” Andrew Sr. squinted at the sun, tightening the glove on his left hand.
Drew recognized it as one of his dad’s stalling moves. A way to create suspense that would ensure him of Drew’s attention.
It came out pretend casual. “Don’t let Von Alston see you play like this while we’re up in Saratoga with his family. I want that to be a week to remember.”
“Saratoga? Who said anything about me going up there?”
“I did when I accepted Harry’s invitation.”
“Have a nice time.”
&
nbsp; “Amber’s quite fond of you. And right now that makes both her parents pretty happy. You do realize the gravity of the situation here? Combine all the assets belonging to the Von Alston estate with Byrne Trucking and you have an empire.”
Drew shook his head. “I don’t believe this. Sounds like one of those arranged marriages from out of a Bollywood movie.”
“Just being practical.”
“Absolutely. Me and Amber, we’ll tie the knot and be so happy. She can have her own sixteen wheeler to take for spins around the block, and I’ll have enough paper towels and asswipe to last a lifetime. A fairytale marriage if there ever was one.”
Drew watched as his father did what he always did at times like this. Whenever Drew outpointed him during an exchange he’d divert by switching the focus onto some other mundane matter before going back to his side of the argument.
“Sure hope I got enough club here,” Andrew Sr. said before swinging down and through the ball in a smooth easy motion, lofting it into space. White as a pearl in the bright afternoon light, the ball plopped down next to the hole, but continued to roll before finally clutching onto the far edge of the green. “Damn. Too much muscle.”
Click. Drew nipped the ball squarely with a crisp five iron from the middle of the apron. “Shit,” he grumbled as the ball trickled a good fifteen feet past the hole. But considering his state of mind right now between his obsessing over Casey and anticipating the inevitable bombardment that would be coming from his father, what did he expect?
“You know, you used to like Amber. I remember when you couldn’t get enough of the girl.”
“That’s a bit of a stretch. But she was fun. For a while.”
“Hey, there’s all kinds of marriages in this world, son. Having a wife doesn’t mean you can’t have other women.”
“You oughta know,” Drew muttered under his breath.
The Ultimate Romance Box (6 Bestselling Romance Novels) Page 104
