Without turning a hair, he stripped off his wet jumper, shirt and denims, and then leisurely towelled himself dry before finally pulling on the dry pair of jeans she had brought him. Cassandra was furious to find herself flushing a very unbecoming shade of red. Jared glanced over at her, noticed it, and gave a sly grin. 'It's a little late for maidenly modesty, isn't it?' he mocked her gently. 'I shouldn't think there's very much you don't know about me by now—including exactly what I look like without clothes.' As he began to towel the worst of the wetness from his hair, he added, 'Shouldn't you get out of your own wet things?'
For some reason, she felt totally awkward and embarrassed. Ridiculous, really, because as he had already reminded her there were very few secrets left between them now. All the same, she wished she could escape to her bedroom, or to the bathroom, to get herself dry and into some fresh clothes. She didn't want him to laugh at her, though. Or, worse than that, to think she was afraid of him. And she certainly wasn't! she told herself severely. She just felt—well, a little wary of him all of a sudden. He seemed—different. There was a new light in his eyes that she couldn't quite remember seeing before, and, although she didn't know why, she found it distinctly disturbing.
She picked up the very largest of the towels, wound it round her, and then began to wriggle out of her clothes underneath it. Jared watched the performance with obvious amusement for a couple of minutes, until she got thoroughly tired of being caught in the beam of those silvery eyes.
'Will you stop staring at me?' she demanded.
'Of course,' he agreed equably. 'As soon as you stop behaving like some uptight virgin on her first date.' And, before she had time to fling an indignant reply back at him, he strode over and easily whipped the towel from her shoulders. Then he began to slide off her wet blouse.
'I can manage by myself—' she began stiffly.
'I know that. But it'll be a lot more fun if I do it.'
Cassandra stared up at him in astonishment. 'Fun?' she echoed. 'I didn't think you knew the meaning of the word!'
'I did forget it for quite a long while,' Jared told her smoothly. 'But with a little help from you, I think that I could start to remember exactly what it means.' He finished removing her blouse, and then his hands slid down lightly over the curve of her breasts, brushing against the thin silk of her bra. 'Mmm, that feels quite dry,' he said thoughtfully. 'So we only need remove it if we want to. What do you think, Cassandra?' he invited, in a voice that was fast growing husky. 'Should we take it off?'
She went to say something, but the words stuck in her suddenly dry throat. All that came out was a rather strangled squeak.
'Was that a yes or a no?' he questioned. 'Never mind, we'll come back to it later. Perhaps we ought to concentrate on the jeans first. They're definitely wet, and will have to come off.' He unzipped them, and dexterously slid the wet denim half-way down her legs. Then he gave her a firm push, which sent her toppling back on to the sofa just behind her. Once she was sitting down, he pulled the jeans right off, along with her soaking socks.
Cassandra felt oddly weak now. She couldn't even get out a mutter of protest when Jared reached for a towel, and began to rub her damp skin. In fact, it soon dawned on her that she didn't want to protest. It felt unexpectedly good, the soft, warm texture of the towel moving up and down her legs, tickling the soles of her feet, and then gently massaging her ankles. Then she realised that it only felt good because Jared intended it should feel that way. Her nerves began to jangle in alarm, and she tried to sit up, but she couldn't quite seem to make it. Her body had gone curiously boneless, and she discovered that it wasn't an altogether unpleasant sensation.
As if he were in no hurry at all, but had all the time in the world to accomplish whatever it was he intended, Jared settled himself down comfortably beside her and didn't touch her again for a couple of minutes. He was still wearing just the clean, dry pair of denims he had put on earlier, and as the logs on the fire caught and blazed, some of the golden glow reflected on the bare skin of his upper body.
At last, he rather lazily raised one hand and touched a damp strand of her hair.
'It still looks pretty, even when it's wet,' he said appreciatively. Then he twisted the strand round his finger, so that she couldn't move her head without her hair pulling painfully. He shifted a little closer. 'You do realise,' he went on in that same conversational tone, 'that you don't have much choice right now, except to kiss me?'
'I didn't say I wanted a choice,' she got out rather shakily.
'No, you didn't.' He released her hair. 'You can get away, if you want to,' he offered softly.
She didn't move a fraction of an inch, and Jared gave a satisfied grunt.
'There are days when everything seems to go your way. And it's looking as if this might be one of them.'
The kiss that followed was long and intense, and extremely satisfactory for both of them. Cassandra didn't understand Jared's sudden and unexpected change of attitude, but she definitely didn't intend to question it. She was enjoying this far too much.
'You're a seductive piece of baggage,' Jared said at last, with a grin. 'But I suppose you know that perfectly well.'
'No,' she said a little dreamily. 'Tell me about it.'
'I think I'll show you, instead. It'll save time, and we'll both enjoy it a lot more.'
He shifted position so there was room for her to stretch out on the sofa beside him.
'There isn't much room,' Cassandra complained. 'I'm beginning to feel like a sardine!'
'I like it this way. Being wedged up against you like this is an experience that no man in his right mind would want to miss out on.'
She stared up at him suspiciously. 'You've been in some really odd moods today. And they keep changing so fast—I can't keep up with you.'
'Then don't try,' replied Jared, in an unperturbed tone. 'Just lie back and enjoy the next few minutes.'
'Why?' she said a trifle warily. 'What's going to happen?'
'Well, I thought I'd begin like this—' He left a trail of light, delicious kisses around the base of her throat, taking his time as he explored the tiny hollows, and letting his tongue trace the outline of the underlying bones. 'Then perhaps I'll move on a little—' he continued, his voice still almost conversational, although with a husky undertone now. His fingers drifted down, pausing at the swell of her breasts, and yet making no attempt to release them from the restricting silk of her bra. 'I like silk,' he told her, his fingers rubbing lightly against the soft material. 'I like the way it clings, the way you can see and feel absolutely everything beneath it—including this,' he added, touching the tip of her hardened nipple, and forcing a tiny groan from her.
'Jared—' she muttered, in a helpless voice.
'Lost for words?' He sounded pleased. 'But you don't have to say anything at all. Unless, of course, I do something you don't like.'
'That doesn't seem very likely,' she got out shakily.
'No, it doesn't,' he agreed. His hands returned to her breasts, as if he were fascinated by their warmth and fullness. His fingers moved rather restlessly against the full underswell and then slid back to the upper curves, and suddenly dipped under the lacy edge of her bra.
Feeling his fingertips against her skin was incredibly different from being caressed through the thin silk. Jared seemed equally aware of the new and startling sensations, and an instant later his mouth closed over hers in a kiss that was ferociously demanding. The contrast of that fierce kiss and the still light and tender touch of his fingers was quite exquisite, and Cassandra felt all sense of reality beginning to drift away from her. Without releasing her from the touch of his mouth or hands, he shifted still nearer until they were in contact from head to toe, the pressing closeness of his hard, warm body adding to all the other sensations that were hurtling through her.
Then, without warning, he let go of her again and propped himself up on one elbow, so that he was looking down at her.
'Like that?' he challenged s
oftly.
All she could do was nod numbly.
'So did I. In fact, I think you know perfectly well how much I liked it.' He let his hand rest against the flatness of her stomach. 'But before we go any further, it might be as well to get a few things straight.'
Cassandra gazed at him in growing amazement. 'You want to talk?' she muttered, finally finding her voice. 'Now?'
Jared gave a faint smile that was a mixture of ruefulness and frustration.
'No, it isn't what I want. But there are a couple of things I need to say—' He stopped abruptly, and lifted his head. 'What was that?'
Cassandra had heard the sound as well. 'It was probably just the wind blowing a door shut. This place is full of draughts.'
Jared frowned. 'Perhaps I'd better check—'
Before he had time to say anything more, though, the door to the drawing-room abruptly crashed open. Cassandra jumped in alarm. Then she swiftly caught her breath as she saw the tall, broad figure that strode into the room.
It was her father. Randolph Gregory looked wild-eyed, and an even higher colour than usual touched his face. He took a quick look at the two of them; then his gaze swivelled to Cassandra and he spat out one short, contemptuous word.
The ugly name he had called her made her begin to shake with a mixture of shame and furious indignation. She felt Jared tense against her; then he lowered his head slightly, so that his mouth was very close to her ear.
'Stay still and keep quiet,' he ordered softly. Then he slowly sat up, pulled on his damp jumper, and got to his feet.
Randolph Gregory glared at Jared with undisguised hatred. 'I always swore I'd kill any man who laid a hand on Cassie,' he hissed in a low voice. 'But I never thought she'd pick a loser like you!'
Although Jared had warned her not to move, Cassandra reached for the towel with shivering fingers, and then pulled it round her bare shoulders. She hadn't dreamt her father would come back like this. And she had never seen him look so out-of-control before, so—so crazy, she admitted to herself, with a frightened shudder.
'You've got to be reasonable,' she said in a hoarse whisper. 'You've got to let me go! I can't stay your little girl for ever.'
Her father didn't even seem to hear her. Instead, he was still staring at Jared with those fixed, hate-filled eyes.
'You're not going to have her,' he said in a rough voice. He reached into his pocket. 'I made up my mind about that after I came here that first time.'
'Jared!' Cassandra cried out in sudden sharp fear. 'He's got a gun!'
'I know.' Jared's own voice was still perfectly steady, and, although his silver gaze was now fixed on the weapon in Randolph Gregory's hand, his stance was very relaxed. Cassandra guessed he was deliberately adopting this attitude, so that he wouldn't provoke or startle her father into using the gun. She didn't know how he was managing to keep so outwardly cool, though. She was shaking unreservedly, and she knew her eyes were huge with fear, and a total disbelief that this could actually be happening.
Almost casually, Jared took a step forward. Immediately, Randolph Gregory responded by raising the gun further. 'One more step, and that'll be it,' he threatened. 'And believe me, it'll be a pleasure. I want to wipe you off the face of the earth for what you've done to my daughter.'
'Do you think all the guns in the world can stop her from falling in love?' asked Jared steadily. Cassandra stiffened a little at that. She had never told Jared she loved him. And yet he knew—
Then she forgot all about it again as her father's finger visibly tightened on the trigger. There was a dark, heavy pounding inside her head, and she knew she was close to passing out. Grimly, she dug her nails deep into her palms. She needed to stay fully conscious, to know what was happening.
'She doesn't love you,' snarled her father. 'I've always been the only person of any importance in her life. Ever since she was a tiny baby, she's loved me, looked up to me. I'm not going to let someone like you change that.'
'It's already changed,' Cassandra said, fighting hard to keep her voice even. 'Why can't you see that? Accept it?'
'Once you're home with me, you'll forget all about this,' her father said, with total conviction. 'Everything will be the way it was before.'
Cassandra took a shaky breath, ready to argue with him. She didn't get out a single word, though. Jared turned his head and shot a brief look at her, and she read the silent message he sent her very clearly. Her father had gone way past the stage where he was capable of listening to—or even understanding—a reasonable argument. Something inside him had just snapped, and he wasn't seeing things logically any more. He had drifted off into some fantasy world, where he and his daughter would live happily together ever after. All he had to do was get rid of Jared first—
She was ready to cry from sheer terror and the frustration of not being able to get through to her father, to make him realise just how insane this all was. A brief moan did escape her, though, and for an instant, her father's gaze left Jared and flickered over to her.
In that split second, Jared moved. Afterwards, she was never able to understand how he covered that distance in such a remarkably short time. One hard chop to the wrist made her father grunt in pain, and drop the gun. Jared kicked it well out of the way. Then he caught hold of the lapels on her father's jacket.
'Now,' he said breathlessly, 'do we have to fight over your daughter, like a couple of animals? Or are you going to sit down and talk, like a civilised human being?'
Her father didn't say anything at all, though. Instead, he just seemed to collapse, like a deflated balloon. Without the gun, all his bluster and menace seemed to simply dissolve away. His eyes weren't wild any longer, but became rather frighteningly blank and glazed. He half collapsed into a nearby chair, and then just sat there, staring at the floor with unnerving emptiness.
'What's the matter with him?' whispered Cassandra. 'Has he had some kind of attack? Oh, God, we'd better get a doctor!'
'No,' said Jared, with some certainty. 'It's not a physical illness. I think he's had some sort of mental blackout. He does need medical help, though. Psychiatric help,' he added with a brief frown. 'He's gone right over the edge, Cassandra.'
'I have to get him back to London,' she muttered. 'There'll be doctors there who can help him.'
At that, Jared lifted his head. 'You don't even need to get involved in this. I'll make the arrangements, get him to a place where he can be cared for and given treatment.'
She stared at him incredulously. 'What do you mean, I don't need to get involved? He's my father!'
'And he's done his best to damned well ruin your life,' Jared reminded her roughly. 'Let him get to you now, and he'll have succeeded.'
'Look at him!' Cassandra flung her hand out at the bowed, motionless man sitting in the armchair, apparently hearing and seeing nothing of what was going on around him. 'Do you really think he's any kind of threat any more?'
'Yes,' said Jared implacably. 'When he was healthy, you stood a good chance of getting away from him. Tie yourself to him again now, while he's like this, and there's every chance you'll end up a prisoner for the rest of your life.'
'I don't believe I'm hearing this,' she said in disbelief. 'You've got to be the coldest, most unfeeling man on this earth!'
Jared caught hold of her arm. 'Was that the way I seemed to you earlier?' he demanded harshly.
'I don't remember,' she said, with deliberate cruelty. 'All I can think about right now is my father.' She stared down at him. 'I did this to him,' she mumbled in mounting horror. 'All of it—all of it—was my fault.'
Jared gave her an unexpectedly violent shake. 'He did it to himself! If he'd let you grow up normally, let go of you like every parent should and allowed you to become an adult in your own right, it would never have come to this.'
Cassandra wasn't even listening to him any more. More and more, she was beginning to be consumed by guilt. She had run out on her father when he needed her, selfishly pursued her own life and independence,
without giving a thought as to how it was affecting him.
Jared seemed to realise he wasn't getting through to her. Abruptly, he let go of her and backed off a couple of paces.
'What do you intend to do?'
'Get him into hospital,' she said, almost thinking out loud. 'You're right, he needs expert help.'
'And stay with him?'
'Of course,' she answered, without hesitation.
'For how long?'
'For as long as he needs me.'
'And what if that turns out to be for the rest of his life?' Jared questioned her fiercely.
'I'll deal with that, if and when it happens,' Cassandra replied steadily.
'And where does that leave me?'
She looked at him almost in surprise. 'What do you mean?'
'What if I need you, too?'
For just an instant, his question startled her. Then she shook her head firmly. 'You don't. You're the most self-sufficient man I know.'
'There are different kinds of needing.'
'You want someone to share your bed?' she said bluntly. 'You're a very attractive man. You won't have any problems finding someone.'
'That wasn't what I meant,' Jared growled. 'And you damned well know it!'
'All I know right now is that I've got to give my father all the help I can,' she said in a voice that was curiously flat, but very clear. 'I can't run out on him, not while he's like this.'
'So, everything we have—it just has to be thrown away? All your independence that you talked about and wanted so much—that's got to be tossed out of the window, too?'
'Jared, stop it,' she said tiredly. 'You're confusing me.'
'Good,' he said grimly. 'Because I want to confuse you. Perhaps that's the only way of stopping you from going through with this. Cassandra, think what you're doing!'
'I know what I'm doing,' she retorted. 'I'm facing up to my responsibilities.'
'You haven't even thought about it.'
'I don't need to. It's a simple question of what's right and what's wrong. I'm sorry, Jared, I know it's not very fair to you—'
'Fair?' he cut in incredulously. 'Cassandra, don't you understand what I'm trying to say to you? You're not going to do yourself or your father any good by doing this. Why can't you see that?'
Wild Justice Page 14
