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Best of Virgins Bundle Page 117

by Cathy Williams


  “He’s back here, isn’t he?” Luanne said. “He obviously cares.”

  Cassie hesitated. More than anything, she wanted to believe that Hunter cared about her.

  “If I were you, I’d give him a chance. He’s an important, busy man. And he’s trying to help us. That’s something.”

  Luanne was right. He had come back.

  There was hope. There was definitely hope.

  “You’re not serious.” Willa fixed her gaze on Hunter as she tapped her long, manicured nails on the wooden table in her makeshift office.

  Hunter had just finished telling Willa of his plans. “I am.”

  “Do you have any idea how many hours I’ve spent on this project? How much time I’ve spent securing this deal?”

  “You will be compensated, Willa. As usual.”

  “This is not a typical deal for me.”

  “I understand that.”

  “Oliver was counting on us moving production to the Far East.”

  “Oliver will receive the compensation he was promised.”

  “Don’t be foolish, Hunter. You could lose millions.”

  Hunter appreciated Willa’s concern, but she was not telling him anything he did not already know. He had little choice. He could not leave Cassie in Shanville with a mill that was headed for bankruptcy. “You’re forgetting that with the deal I have in mind, I would still retain a percentage of the fees gained from the patent.”

  “That patent is worthless unless they know how to market it.”

  “So we will help them.”

  “Why not just do it ourselves? Why share the rights?” She shook her head.

  “There’s more at stake than money. These people…well, they’ve invested their entire lives in this mill.”

  “So what?” She shrugged. “That’s never stopped you before.”

  What could he say? Willa was right. He’d never really cared before. But he did now. The people of Shanville were no longer anonymous small-town workers. How could he tell himself that taking over the mill was in their best interests, when he knew otherwise? He continued, “Instead of the Far East you will return to the Bahamas.”

  “Hunter, please. This is all that factory worker’s doing.”

  He did not need to ask to whom she was referring. He felt a sting of tension in the back of his neck. How dare Willa refer to Cassie with that snobbish tone? “She’s not a factory worker,” he said. “She’s a weaver who’s trying to save her mill.”

  “This has nothing to do with saving a mill. This is about revenge. Plain and simple.”

  “Revenge?”

  Willa was silent for a moment. “You don’t know?”

  “Know what?”

  “Cassie and Oliver were engaged.”

  Hunter hesitated. It wasn’t possible. Cassie and…Oliver? The man from whom he bought the mill? The man who followed Willa around like a devoted puppy? “Oliver Demion?” he heard himself say.

  “Apparently she had been in love with him since she was a child. But he never really loved her. He got engaged because he felt obligated. They had been together since they were kids.”

  Hunter was silent. Why hadn’t Cassie told him that Oliver had been her fiancé?

  “But once he met me, he knew he had to break things off with Cassie. She was devastated.” Willa shook her head and sighed. “Poor Oliver. He felt so guilty.” She shrugged. “In any case, he felt guilty until Cassie swore revenge.”

  Hunter couldn’t believe what he was hearing. It couldn’t be true. Cassie was interested in revenge?

  “Oliver predicted she would set her sights on you. But I give her credit. I never thought you’d actually fall for it. And I certainly never thought she’d be able to persuade you to sell the company.”

  That was it. Hunter had heard enough.

  “I don’t have time for idle gossip, Willa, and neither do you.”

  With that he left the room. He walked down the hall toward his office. Had he misjudged Cassie? Had she been playing him all along just to get what she wanted?

  Had he missed the cues? Was he just a pawn?

  After all, it had happened before. He’d thought he’d known Lisa. Apparently he hadn’t known her at all. Everyone had seen her for who she really was but him. He had been blinded by love.

  He’d sworn it would never happen again. After all, he had been a boy when he was with Lisa. He had been with many women since. He thought he could tell the good from the bad. He thought he could recognize the diamond from the rhinestones.

  But perhaps he had given himself too much credit. Perhaps Willa was right. Perhaps Cassie was only using him to win back an old love.

  Did it matter?

  Hell, yes.

  He could feel himself close up, feel his heart freeze once again. He had given too much too soon. And he had no choice but to pay the price.

  But what could he do?

  He cared about her too much to walk away and leave her with an old mill destined for failure.

  No.

  He would do the honorable thing. He would give Cassie the mill and the patent.

  But then he was through. His relationship with Cassie would be defined solely through business.

  If it was revenge she was after, she would have to obtain it alone.

  Twelve

  Cassie stared at the phone. It was nearly nine o’clock at night, well past the dinner hour. Hunter hadn’t called. And it was becoming more and more obvious that he had no intention of calling.

  So what did that mean? Was he just busy? Or, she thought, her heart sinking, had he reached a decision regarding the mill that he knew she would not like?

  What decision might that be, however? He had told her he would sell her the mill. She believed him. He would not renege.

  So what was it, then? Why hadn’t he called her?

  She had heard he was leaving the next day and was spending the night at a hotel in town. She’d assumed he had booked the hotel room for the sake of appearances. It had never occurred to her he actually planned on sleeping there. Alone.

  She swallowed. Perhaps his reason for not calling was a more personal one.

  Cassie stood up and walked toward the window. A cold and bitter wind rattled the panes, seeping through the cracks. Despite her wool cardigan, Cassie shivered. She crossed her arms in an attempt to ward off the chill.

  It was hard to believe that only the night before she had slept naked, enjoying the warm breeze from the open French doors. It was equally hard to believe that the man with whom she had shared a bed, the man who had made some passionate and tender love, was no longer interested in her.

  But it was a scenario she had to consider.

  In rapid progression, she imagined the worst. Perhaps he thought their differences too numerous. Perhaps he had grown tired of her. Perhaps he never really cared. Perhaps…their relationship was over.

  If it was over, she should not be surprised. After all, they had become intimate very early in their relationship. She had known it was risky. She had known she was setting herself up for rejection, known that their relationship would end eventually. Hadn’t she?

  Maybe. But a part of her had hoped for a miracle. A part of her had actually believed that Hunter cared. That their lovemaking was every bit as special to him as it was to her.

  Was she wrong?

  It seemed difficult to believe that he suddenly had a change of heart. Yet from the moment they left the Bahamas she had sensed a difference. It was subtle, but still noticeable. A slight stiffening. A pulling away.

  But would he leave town without so much as a goodbye?

  Cassie turned away from the window. What was wrong with her? Why was she analyzing everything like the soon-to-be-jilted lover? Perhaps the reason he hadn’t called was something less dramatic. Perhaps he was just distracted by work.

  Or perhaps not. Perhaps he had no intention of calling her now or ever again.

  She glanced once again at the phone. She checked her watch
. She knew where he was staying. And if he had tired of her or was ready to break up with her, she wanted to hear it in person.

  Hunter took off his watch and set it on the night table. He undid his cuff links and began unbuttoning his shirt. His mind, as it had been all day, was focused on Cassie.

  He had spent the afternoon and evening holed up in an empty office, busying himself with work in an attempt to distract himself from the pain in his heart. But it had been in vain.

  Damn!

  How could he have been so naive?

  He didn’t want to believe that their relationship was based on revenge, yet the facts proved otherwise. Why else had she not told him the truth about who her fiancé was? Why was she so willing to give up her dream of a career in photography just to save the mill? Why did she lose her virginity to a stranger?

  She had been motivated by love.

  A love not for him, but for someone else.

  He was interrupted from his reverie by a knock on the door. He was in no mood for distractions nor company. “Come in,” he barked.

  Cassie opened the door.

  The mere sight of her was enough to take his breath away. But he could not give in to his body. He needed to control his feelings. He needed to focus. To concentrate. He turned away and continued unbuttoning his shirt. “What are you doing here?”

  He could hear her shut the door.

  “What’s going on?” she asked quietly.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The way you just greeted me. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

  “I’m tired, Cassie. It’s not every day I give a company back.”

  “Is that it?” she asked, shutting the door. “Are you having second thoughts?”

  “Would it matter?” he asked.

  She glanced down.

  “No,” he said. “I didn’t think so.”

  “So this is about money?”

  “Why don’t you tell me,” Hunter said, facing her.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “As I mentioned to you before, everything usually boils down to money,” he said, taking a step toward her.

  She lifted her head, defiant. “Maybe with you.”

  “But not with you?” he said. He stood in front of her. He could see the outline of her firm breasts underneath her snug jacket. Her jeans seemed to wrap around her slender hips.

  “No,” she said. “I don’t think money is all that important in the scheme of things.”

  He could feel himself weaken. Damn, she was beautiful. “Tell me,” he said, “if money doesn’t motivate you, what does?”

  “What do you mean?”

  He took a step toward her. “Why are you so desperate to keep the mill?”

  “I told you. This mill is in our blood. It’s who we are. Some of the people who work here have worked here their whole lives. They can’t just pick up and move on.”

  “But you could. Right?”

  “We’ve been over this,” she said impatiently. “This is not about me.”

  “So there’s no…personal reason for wanting the mill back.”

  “Of course. I love the mill, I love making fabric.”

  “And Oliver? Do you love him, as well?”

  She swallowed.

  He could see a change come over Cassie at the reference to Oliver. A flash of grief tore through him. So it was true. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She said, “I wasn’t trying to keep Oliver’s identity a secret. I would’ve told you about him if I thought it important. But he didn’t have anything to do with us or what I wanted.”

  “You and Oliver were childhood sweethearts?”

  “Yes.” She shrugged. “Everyone just assumed that we would get married, including me.”

  He felt as if his heart was twisted in two. He hated this feeling of insecurity. Of uncertainty. “The breakup must have been painful for you,” he said stiffly.

  “Not for the reasons you might think. It was more difficult to find out that the person I thought I had loved no longer existed. I missed who he used to be, the friendship we once shared. But even still, I knew that he had done us both a favor. There was no passion in our relationship.”

  No passion? Was it true? Was her virginity due to a lack of physical chemistry?

  He wanted to believe her. He wanted to think that the reason she gave him such a precious gift was because of their connection—the spark between them. Not because she was trying to erase another man’s touch.

  Cassie had not expected to be greeted by a barrage of questions regarding Oliver.

  What was happening? Why was he so upset about her not telling him the name of her fiancé?

  Hunter turned away from her and continued to unbutton his shirt.

  She said, “Hunter…I’m sorry. Is that what’s bothering you? The fact that I was engaged to Oliver?”

  He turned back toward her. His eyes were dark and dangerous. “Of course not. Why would I care about your past romantic history?”

  If he meant to injure her, he had succeeded. Why would he care? Because she wanted him to care. She wanted him to love her.

  “My concerns are business related,” he said coldly. “I don’t want Axon Enterprises to get involved in a simple domestic dispute.”

  A domestic dispute? “Do you think I’m trying to buy the mill back just to spite Oliver?”

  “Are you?”

  She paused for a moment, speechless. How could he even think her capable of such a spiteful act? Did he really think that she would have risked losing her friends’ severance just so she could exact revenge?

  Yes.

  She could tell from the way he was acting that he not only thought that, he was convinced. He had made up his mind. And nothing she said would make any difference. To argue otherwise would only make her appear defensive.

  Her heart sank.

  Why hadn’t she told him about Oliver sooner? Didn’t she realize that he would find out sooner or later the name of her ex-fiancé?

  “Hunter,” she said, making a move toward him.

  He stepped away from her. It was a slight change, a shift in weight. But the message was clear. He did not want her near him.

  What could she do to change his mind? What could she say?

  Nothing. The damage was done.

  She glanced away and reached for the doorknob. “I made a mistake coming here. I’m sorry I bothered you.”

  Before she could leave, he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him. He stared into her eyes as if searching for something. “You didn’t answer my question. Are you buying the mill out of spite?”

  “No.” She looked into his eyes. They were dark and angry, devoid of feeling.

  She had spent the past few days loving him. But it was over. The realization was like an arrow through her heart.

  “Why did you come here tonight?” he asked.

  “I came here to see you,” she said. “I couldn’t stand the thought of you still being in town and not being with me.”

  Hunter let go of her and turned away. But not fast enough. She had seen something in his eyes. A softening. A glimmer of hope.

  Suddenly it hit her like a bolt from the blue. He was jealous of Oliver.

  Was it possible?

  How could he be jealous of a man she never truly desired? Although she hadn’t mentioned Oliver by name, she had spoken about the lack of passion in their relationship. Wasn’t her virginity proof? She said, “I was never in love with Oliver. Never. I cared about him as a sister cares about a brother.”

  He turned back to face her. “Yet you were willing to marry him.”

  She sighed. “We got engaged while still in high school. He was different then. When we were growing up he was my best friend. I never thought he would end up being so deceitful. So motivated by money.” She sighed. “In retrospect, I should’ve broken it off a long time ago, but—” she shrugged “—I don’t think I would actually have gone through with it.”

  She
stepped toward him again. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about him,” she said. “But the time with you was so special to me…so magical.” She hesitated. “I didn’t want to tarnish it by talking about Oliver.”

  He was looking at her as if deciding what to do with her. She glanced away and asked, “Do you want me to leave?”

  She held her breath as she waited for the response.

  He shook his head. “No,” he said. She turned back toward him. His eyes lightened before her, becoming tender and kind once again.

  She touched his bare chest as she breathed in the deep, musky scent of his aftershave. She would prove to him how she felt. How much she cared.

  He did not touch her. Instead he turned his head ever so slightly and said hoarsely, “What are you doing to me?”

  She was not ready to give up. She leaned forward and kissed him. It was like throwing a match on an oil spill. Flames ignited as he pulled her to him, kissing her mouth, her eyes, her cheeks. She reached inside his shirt, running her fingers down his bare torso.

  He inhaled sharply as she made her way to the edge of his pants, tucking her fingers inside.

  He pulled her hands away, and she looked at him. Why was he stopping her?

  He met her gaze and said, “I want to see you.”

  “What?” she asked.

  “I want to see you. All of you.”

  “You want me to take my clothes off?” She glanced toward the bathroom and said, “Okay. I’ll be right back.”

  “No,” he said, shaking his head as he pulled her back toward him. “Here.” He was speaking matter-of-factly, as if giving instructions to an employee. “I want to watch you.”

  He wanted to…watch?

  She felt a flutter of nerves. Like a striptease?

  The thought was enough to bring a blush to her cheeks.

  But why should she be embarrassed? After all, he had seen her naked before.

  He was watching her carefully. Was this some sort of test? Whatever it was, she was up for it. Without answering him, she kicked off her shoes and socks. She stood before him and met his gaze directly, silently accepting his dare. Slowly she unzipped her pants, taking her time wiggling out of them.

 

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