His Sword

by Holly Hart

  She seems startled by the question.

  “Vaguely,” she says quickly. “I remember that we won.”

  I remember, too. I also remember going for dinner with our parents that night, and then heading off to the old abandoned barracks at the edge of the base. We made out until her hair looked like a rat’s nest. She barely got it back under control before we went home.

  “A scale version of that reactor would have worked if we’d had some uranium,” I remind her.

  She laughs. “I know! I don’t think the judges ever figured that out. If they did, they probably would have called the government on us.”

  I chuckle, too. We sit in silence for a while until our server brings us a couple of lemon sorbets.

  “I don’t remember ordering this,” Cassie says.

  “It’s palate cleanser before the next course,” I say with a wry smile.

  She blushes, shaking her head. “I’m such a hick.”

  “Forget it. I guess you don’t come to restaurants like this very often.”

  “No,” she says. “But I bet you do.”

  She’s opened the door, now I’m going to walk through it. I want her to know about everything I’ve accomplished since she left me standing there like an idiot on prom night.

  “Most nights, I order in from room service,” I say. “My building has a concierge and a full-service restaurant, so I just call ahead and tell them to bring something up when I get home.”

  Cassie’s eyes widen.

  “Wow,” she says. “Where do you live?”

  “Park Avenue. Penthouse suite.”

  Sure, I guess you could call that second sentence a bit of an asshole thing to say. And you would be right. I couldn’t help myself. Being around Cassie makes me nervous for the first time in a long time. I keep feeling this deep need to prove myself over and over again – a feeling I haven’t experienced in years.

  She lets out a low whistle.

  “I was thinking,” she says. “It was kind of strange that we’ve both lived in New York for so long and we’ve never run into each other before. But now I realize we kind of run in different circles.”

  “I tend to travel a lot, too,” I say. “I spend a lot of time in Europe. Northern Australia during the winter. I love snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef.”

  “Yeah, I can see you’ve become a lot more – uh, active than you used to be.”

  I beam in spite of myself. Somehow she makes all the years of chasing every woman I met fall away, and I’m back as that skinny kid again, trying desperately to win her approval.

  Who am I kidding? Every one of those women was just an attempt to either forget about Cassie, or to somehow validate that I was worthy of such a beautiful woman.

  Jesus, I’ve got some issues. Is it enough for me to just admit that? I’m thinking not. I know I’m coming off as a show-off, but for some reason I can’t help myself.

  “It’s important to stay fit,” I say.

  Good one, buddy. How lame can you get? I can’t believe she still has the ability to screw me up like this after all these years.

  “Well, you’ve done it in spades,” she says. “I bet you could get into action movies if you wanted. You remind me a little of Jason Statham these days.”

  “Too much work,” I grin. “It would cut into my leisure time.”

  “See?” she says. “That’s what I’m looking for! I want to have so much money that I can say things like that.”

  I return her smile. Wonder what she’d say if she knew I just paid twice what she can hope to get from selling her shares of this Tricialicious venture, all so I could chase a woman and take her virginity?

  Which is exactly when the realization hits me. Holy shit, I’ve wasted the entire first day of the Chase with Cassie Vincent!

  What was I hoping to accomplish tonight? Some sort of revenge? Whatever it was, it’s not worth throwing $20 million down the tubes and condemning a poor woman to having sex with some creepy old pervert.

  I hope none of this shows on my face.

  “Something wrong?” Cassie asks.

  “Uh, no. I was just thinking about something I forgot to do.”

  “Nothing important, I hope?”

  “Depends on how you look at it. But I don’t want it to spoil our catching up.”

  She glances at her watch. “Actually, I was just thinking that I probably should be getting home. I’ve got a busy day tomorrow.”

  Shit, I’m so confused.

  Part of me is struggling to believe Cassie’s not climbing all over me right now and the other part just wants to take her to bed and get it over with.

  And all of me can’t stop thinking of the poor quarry being handed a hotel room key by some sadistic rich bastard while I stand around and try to figure all this out!

  “Of course,” I say. “Besides, if we skip dessert, I can flip Matthias the bird tomorrow.”

  She giggles and my stomach flips. No matter what I do, I can’t stop feeling like a horny teenager around her. She’s not like any other woman I’ve ever been with. It was always so much more with her.

  Cassie collects her purse as I pull her chair out for her. At least I can try to act like a gentleman.

  She looks at me sideways.

  “Don’t we have to wait for our bill?” she asks.

  “They’ll just put it on my account.”

  She giggles again. It’s like music to me.

  “Quit teasing me, Carson. Your life, it’s like everything I’ve been dreaming about. I’m totally going to have an account somewhere when I’m rich!”

  I can’t help but laugh, too. I put an arm around her waist and lead her toward the foyer. Touching her like this sends a jolt straight to my dick, making me feel like a teenager yet again.

  We reach the coatroom to pick up Cassie’s wrap, but there’s no one at the desk. Cassie looks around with some alarm.

  “I really do need to get going,” she says, glancing at her watch again. “Maybe I’ll just leave it here and pick it up another time.”

  “Not at all,” I say, making my way into the room itself. “Come here and point out which one it is.”

  She follows me in and the door closes behind us. The room is lit only by a tiny sconce lamp on the wall.

  “Should we really be in here?” she asks. “What if someone sees us? They might think we’re stealing something.”

  “Cassie,” I chuckle. “I spend about a hundred grand a year in this place. They know I don’t need to steal what I want. Now let’s find your wrap.”

  She swipes through the hangers for a few moments before finding it.

  “It’s up there,” she says, pointing to the shelf above the hanging rack. “I can’t reach.”

  I move in behind her and reach over her toward the shelf. As I do, I catch a whiff of her fragrance and suddenly I can’t think. It has the same effect on me as her laugh, making me hard as a rock. And dropping me into a memory back into a time when we were still thick as thieves.

  “You,” I whisper in her ear. “You smell so…”

  She gasps as my hardness presses against her ass through the thin fabric of my suit pants. I’m helpless to do anything except stand here, breathing into her neck.

  I feel her spin around in the dark and wrap her arms around my neck. Suddenly her breasts are pressed against me and her hips are pushing their way into the hardness in my pants.

  My lips press firmly on hers, my tongue slipping around and under her own. With that, all rational thought flies out of my head, leaving nothing but animal passion in its place.

  Chapter Twenty

  20. CASSANDRA

  This is wrong. This is so wrong. This couldn’t be more wrong.

  Then why does it feel so right?

  Years evaporate as Carson’s mouth burns on my own like a hot coal. Suddenly I’m back in that abandoned barracks with him after the science fair, unable to think about anything but the moment we are experiencing right this second. I’m lost in this
world with him, ready to take anything – everything – he’ll give me.

  Some part of me knows it’s wrong – that we have bigger issues to work out, even if I wasn’t taking part in a little thing called the Chase. But that part is lost under a tidal wave of passion.

  I run my hands under his suit coat, groping the marble physique that’s been filling my mind’s eye since our encounter at the shop this morning. I can actually feel the fabric of his shirt straining against the muscles working underneath it.

  Our mouths disengage with a wet popping sound straight out of a cartoon. Romantic? Maybe not. But it’s raw. Passionate. Animalistic.

  Now his lips are working their way down into the hollow under my ear. The hot caress of his tongue is like a branding iron on the sensitive skin there.

  Meanwhile, my hips have a mind of their own, twisting and pushing toward him. I can feel solid steel under his pants, just like our make-out sessions in high school. But something has changed. It’s grown. Or maybe it’s just been so long that I just think it has.

  I haven’t let myself go like this since before my family was spirited away to Honduras and I started down the path that led me to the CIA. For the past twelve years, my whole life has been about control, of myself, of the situation.

  The total abandon of this moment feels soooo good…

  Carson’s mouth reaches my throat and starts to explore. A groan escapes each of us as my hands work my way down to the perfect orbs of his ass cheeks and squeeze. I can’t believe I did that – are women supposed to squeeze men’s butts? I don’t know.

  And I don’t care. I just did it and it felt amazing.

  He returns the favor immediately with rough, powerful fingers, and I feel a sudden tingle between my legs the moment his hands grab me. The hem of my dress hikes up and exposes more of my legs. The sheer naughtiness of the moment is a giddy thrill I haven’t felt since we were teens.

  “Cassie,” he growls in my ear. “My Cassie…”

  My heart sings at the sound of my name on his lips. I was always Cassie to myself, never Sandra. That was my father’s name for me. Carson knew who I truly am, all those years ago. Even today, after so many years spent buried under a mountain of secrets and lies, I still believe he’s the only person on Earth who knows the real me.

  Whatever comes of this, I know one thing for sure: Sandra Vincent is gone. Cassie Vincent is here to stay.

  I tilt my head to allow Carson easier access to my neck. I don’t want him to ever stop what he’s doing there. It’s makes me feel like I’m drunk.

  His hands make their way around to my front and begin to stroke my breasts through the thin fabric of my dress. They swell and my nipples strain at his touch. The shock of pleasure runs straight down my belly into my groin. I squeeze my legs together there to maximize the situation.

  Geez, Cassie. The situation? Way to make it sound like you’re still on a mission…

  My arms reach up to encircle his neck and pull him closer. It’s like I want to be part of him, to have the two of us meld together into something that can’t be separated. It’s been so lonely without him for so long. I never realized just how bad it was until this moment. This feeling.

  “Carson,” I whisper as I take over working on his throat with my tongue. I want to return all the desire he’s sparking in me. I want him to feel as good as he’s making me feel.

  Next thing I know, he’s scooped me up by my cheeks and my back is against the pile of coats hanging next to the wall. Fur and silk press against my bare back, enhancing the sensuality of the moment. Expensive perfume wafts around me, filling my head.

  Suddenly there’s extra space in my gown. I realize it’s because Carson has pulled down the zipper in back and my bare breasts are pushing free from the confines of the fabric. They’re exposed in front of a man for the first time in my life. Except that time in survival and evasion school, and we don’t talk about that…

  Besides, I’m too turned on to feel embarrassed.

  Then his mouth closes over my nipple and my mind becomes one with the universe for a moment.

  My God, the electricity of it! I’ve never felt a tongue on my breast before. It’s so warm and soft, but what it does to me!

  The spot aches with pleasure as his hand takes care of my other breast. His powerful fingers stroke so softly, then circle my nipple before giving it the tiniest squeeze and sending vibrations right through me.

  Carson’s other hand is still holding me up by my ass as easily as if I’m weightless. His fingers grip me there, prompting a thrill in my groin that threatens to soak me. I let out a groan that I couldn’t hold in for all the money in the world.

  He takes this as a cue to press himself into me even harder, pinning me against the wall with that concrete rod against my opening, separated only by fabric.

  “Cassie,” he moans. “I missed you so much…”

  My eyes flutter open as I run my tongue along his neck, and I see the room behind him. Light filters into the room through the thirty-degree crack in the doorway. For the first time, it occurs to me that someone could walk in at any second. Someone could, perhaps, even be watching us right now.

  The jolt of that realization brings another unpleasant thought along with it, and my breath catches in my throat.

  What the fuck am I doing?! I’m supposed to be in the Chase!

  Chapter Twenty-One

  21. CARSON

  Stupid, stupid, stupid! Shit!

  One second Cassie and I are on the verge of throwing caution to the wind and doing it right here in the restaurant coatroom, now she’s trying to zip up her dress by herself with a look of panic in her eyes

  I should have known Cassie is too sophisticated a lady to have sex in a public place. Or is it just that she doesn’t want to have sex with me?

  “I’m sorry,” she mutters, gathering up her things. “I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”

  Her breasts are still pushing out of her gown, so I step around behind her and zip her up the rest of the way.

  “No, I’m sorry,” I say. “This was inappropriate. Maybe we should take this back to my place.”

  Her eyes widen like matching blue supernovas.

  “I can’t!” she yelps, rushing to the door. “I have to go!”

  Way to go, Carson. Make the love of your life feel like a bimbo by mauling her in a fucking coatroom.

  “Let me take you home,” I say, already knowing she won’t take me up on it. I feel helpless, useless. How did I screw this up so badly?

  “That’s all right, I can get a cab.”

  The subtext is clear: I don’t need your help.

  She runs her hand through her red curls, trying to smooth them into something more presentable. Her eyes are darting everywhere, like someone is after her.

  My mind immediately flashes back to that night in the barracks and my heart cramps. That memory prompts another thought: Cassie Vincent is running out on me. Again.

  It’s selfish and uncharitable, I know. Unfair, even. But I can’t help the feeling of déjà vu.

  “Will I see you again?” I ask. Might as well be blunt. I never got the chance the last time this happened.

  The look she gives me makes me think of a cornered animal.

  “I-I can’t,” she says. “Not now. I’m just too busy. With other things.”

  Her eyes brighten.

  “With business!” she blurts. “The deal! Lots to do. I need an early night. Maybe – maybe in a couple of weeks? Say on August 15?” She looks at me pleadingly.

  My eyes narrow. If Cassie thinks Carson Drake is going to sit around and wait until she feels like calling him sometime, she’s got another thing coming. I have women lined up to spend a night with me!

  Hell, all I’d have to do right now is call Maksim and get that brunette’s number from the Boom Boom Room and boom! She’d be in my room. I know I’m acting out. I know that Cassie’s dismissal – for a second time – is bringing up bad memories. Hell, some kind of long-r
epressed psychodrama is most definitely coming to the surface.

  I know all that, and yet I can’t stop myself from acting out my part, as though I’m merely an actor in some Shakespearean play.

  “Whatever,” I say with a smile. “I’ll give you a call some time.”

  She gives me an unfathomable look. I used to be able to read everything beneath those opal-colored eyes. Now I don’t have a clue what she’s thinking.

  “I mean it,” she says. “I really am just too busy right now.”

  “Sure, I understand. I’ve actually got a lot lined up for the next couple weeks, too.”

  Most of that involves throwing myself into the Chase with everything I’ve got. Using the hurt that’s even now bubbling back up to the surface. Using it to win.

  Cassie straightens her dress one last time and steps into the atrium that will take her back into the Museum of Modern Art and the exit to the street. She looks around at the breathtaking art on the walls, then back at me.

  “I really did have a wonderful time tonight,” she says.

  Of course you did, I say to myself. You spent it with Carson Drake. Not spending the rest of it with me is your loss, not mine.

  Keep telling yourself that, buddy.

  “Me too,” I say. “I’ll see you again. Good night, Cassie. Sorry, I guess it’s Sandra now, isn’t it?”

  “No,” she says. “From now on, it’s Cassie. Always.”

  She gives me a sheepish wave and heads into the museum. I stand there, watching her walk away, until she turns a corner and is gone.

  “Mr. Drake?”

  A female voice behind me startles me out of my reverie. It’s Helene, the maître d, an elegant brunette in a black shift dress.

  “Yes?”

  “I couldn’t help but notice that you were in the coatroom for an extended period of time.”

  I work hard to keep blood from flowing to my cheeks.

  “Yes,” I say. “Sorry, my date’s scarf was caught on something and we had to untangle it.”

  She nods knowingly and I realize I’m not fooling her.

  “That would explain the noises. I couldn’t help but notice that she left on her own. I hope everything is all right.”