“Your house? I rented this house for a month. I might ask you what you’re doing in my house?”
“You did not! I’ve rented it.”
The man didn’t respond right away. He seemed to be assessing her sanity, which by her own admission was a bit unhinged these days.
“You need help,” he said at last. “You’ve cut your leg up pretty good.”
Cassidy said nothing. She couldn’t feel anything but adrenaline and gin coursing through her veins. But when she looked down she saw a river of red trickling down her leg and her vision swam.
“I’m going to let go now,” the man said.
When he released her arms Cassidy found she had to use them to cling to the wall to stay upright. Standing was an effort without his steady support. Her heart raced. What the hell was she going to do now?
“Will you let me take a look at your leg?” the man asked.
Cassidy turned herself around to face him. She leaned against the wall, wishing she was closer to the knife block on the kitchen counter. Not that she was steady enough to defend herself. With the way things were going she’d probably end up hurting herself worse. But still, having something . . . anything to defend herself with always made her feel stronger. She glanced around. Nothing. She had nothing but her words.
“I don’t know who the hell you are. I’m not letting you anywhere near me.”
The man put his hands up and took a submissive step back. “My name’s Thomas Crain.”
“Is that supposed to mean something to me?” Cassidy hissed.
“I’m not here to hurt you. I promise I’m just as surprised as you are to find someone else in this house.”
Cassidy cocked an eyebrow at him.
“I’m a musician from New York City. My radio network rented this place for me to broadcast from for the next month.”
Her eyes widened. “I was told the radio client couldn’t come.”
“I . . . he couldn’t. I’m filling in for him.”
“Well, I wasn’t notified.”
“Look, we can figure out the details later, but we need to do something about your leg now. You’re bleeding all over the floor.”
“And let me guess, you don’t want to let me die since you’re not supposed to be here?”
“No, I don’t want to let you die because it’s the decent thing to do.”
Cassidy snorted. But she was beginning to feel dizzy. She needed to sit down. But she wanted some assurance. She gathered the last of her strength and hobbled over to the kitchen counter to swipe a large knife from the butcher block.
Thomas’s eyes widened and he backed up further. “I promise I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Good. Now, help me to the bathroom,” she ordered.
Chapter 4
Thomas
Thomas’s strong arms scooped up the thin woman with ease. Her brown hair had come undone and despite its wild look, her curls felt like silk where they brushed his skin. He noted how cold and fragile she felt in his arms as he followed her directions to the bathroom. He gently placed her on the edge of the bathtub before rummaging under the sink for bandages. Relief flooded him when he found a first aid kit.
“You never told me your name,” he said turning back to her with a towel and tweezers.
“I don’t usually give my name to men that show up to attack me.”
“Men?” Thomas smirked. “Do you find yourself under attack often?”
“You’d be surprised,” she muttered.
Thomas laid the towel on the edge of the tub and tried to help the woman prop her leg on it, only to be batted away. “You’re a terrible patient,” he scolded.
“The only reason I am a patient at all is because you terrified me.”
Thomas sighed. “Fine. It’s my fault. Can we call a truce now so I can help you before you bleed to death?”
“Fine.”
Thomas gently surveyed the woman’s legs working his way up from her ankles. She had lovely legs. He swallowed and ordered his mind to focus on the task, not the gorgeous ivory skin that he slowly ran his fingers over. Most of the wounds were shallow. Then he reached her thigh. A jagged shard of glass was poking through the skin and he blanched.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice laced with worry as she gazed at him with her piercing blue eyes. She seemed to be too busy watching him to notice the severity of her injury. That was probably a good thing considering how bad the wound looked.
“What is it?” she asked again.
“Nothing.” He mumbled, turning back to the first aid kit to grab an iodine swab and some gauze.
“Nothing? Don’t tell me nothing. Your face just paled three shades!”
She pulled up her skirt to see for herself and swore. “Christ!”
“It’s all right. I just need to remove the glass.”
“No!”
“Ma’am, I promise you’ll be all right. Here,” Thomas handed her another towel. “Twist this up tight. When I count to three bite down on it.”
“Cassidy.”
Thomas looked up at the pale brunette.
“Don’t call me ma’am.”
He smiled. “All right. Cassidy it is. Are you ready?”
“Do you know what the hell you’re doing?”
“Yes,” he lied. He’d helped his father with the horses on the farm. Stitched them up when necessary. He helped birth, brand and tame . . . but that was the extent of his medical knowledge. But he wasn’t about to admit that to Cassidy. Her eyes already held too much fright. “Take a deep breath,” he ordered.
He placed a hand firmly on her thigh, the other gripped the glass shard.
Cassidy howled.
“Bite down.”
She did as instructed.
“One . . . two . . .”
He yanked before three. The glass came out with a sickening pop of suction. Blood rushed from the wound and Thomas pressed the gauze firmly into it. A gasp escaped Cassidy before the color completely drained from her already porcelain completion and she passed out.
“Shit.”
Thomas lunged to catch her, supporting her listless frame as he guided her into the bathtub. He worked quickly. Tying a tourniquet so he could clean and bandage her wound. He wanted to stitch it, but he was afraid the pain would wake her. And God only knew what she’d do if she found him poking her with a needle and thread. He dressed and taped her wound the best he could. Then he spent the good part of an hour washing the blood from her and treating the rest of the smaller injuries.
Cassidy’s clothes were soaked through and most likely ruined. But Thomas’s main concern was her chill. Her pale skin was so cold. He found himself wondering why she was wearing only a thin summer dress in the dead of winter. He stripped her sodden dress off and tried not to gawk at her flawless beauty as he wrapped her in the largest towel he could find before carrying her to the bedroom down the hall. He settled her in the small bed and draped a heavy quilt over her before starting a fire in the hearth. Once it was roaring he returned to her bedside. His heart was still pounding from the chaotic ordeal.
Thomas gazed down at the sleeping woman. Cassidy—a strange name for a strange woman. He gently stroked her cheek for any sign of fever. Her skin felt like velvet beneath his calloused fingers. She was stunning when her features weren’t twisted in malice or fear. Her full lips glowed like a rose bud in the snow. Dark hair framed her pale skin like a curtain and he couldn’t help but savor the feeling as it slipped through his fingers while he tucked a loose curl behind her ear. Her dark lashes shuddered at his touch.
“Get some rest,” Thomas whispered as he gently squeezed warmth into her delicate chilled fingers. He kissed her forehead and backed away, offering up a silent prayer that Cassidy would awaken well and in a better mood.
Chapter 5
Cassidy
Lips pressed to Cassidy’s forehead, peppering feather-light kisses down her face until they met her lips, where she hungrily devoured them. His tongue, delicious and hot
, teased hers—promising passion and love with every caress. Cassidy couldn’t get enough air, but she didn’t care. She panted between kisses that grew hungry and desperate, calling to that secret place inside of her that ached for more of him.
Virtue be damned. They’d waited long enough. She was wearing his ring. That was good enough for her. With shaking hands she unbuttoned his shirt, running her fingers over his sun kissed chest. His laugh rumbled through her as she pressed herself to him. “Not so fast, Cass. We have all the time in the world,” he whispered against her neck.
“I love you, Jacob.”
“I love you, too, Cassidy.”
“I don’t want to wait.”
Jacob stilled, leaning back slightly. His dark eyes studied her with trepidation. “Cass . . .”
“I’m sure,” she prodded, moving her hands to unbutton his shorts.
He groaned when she slid her hand beneath his waistband and gripped him. Her insides quivering as she held his hot, throbbing power in her hand. Her body coiled. She wanted him. All of him.
“Shit, Cass. I would have proposed sooner if I knew this is how you’d react,” he joked.
“You should have,” she panted, no humor in her lust-filled gaze.
That gorgeous grin she loved lit up Jacob’s face. “God has blessed me with an impatient woman,” he murmured as his large hands roved down the curve of her hips. “And how I love her.”
He picked her up, his hands gripping her ass firmly as she laced her legs around his waist. Jacob carried her into the lake letting the cool water carry the burden of their weight. Cassidy ground against Jacob, trying to shift his teasing fingers to where she so desperately wanted them. They tore away each other’s clothes, but even the chill of the water couldn’t quiet the fire burning in Cassidy as she writhed against Jacob. She reveled in the groan of satisfaction she pulled from him as she gripped his powerful length tightly, rubbing it against her slick wetness. She loved the silken weight of him in her hand and the way he twitched and jerked as she stroked him.
Their tongues echoed each other as they continued to explore with feverish abandon. Cassidy thought she would combust when Jacob dragged a thumb over her swollen entrance—circling slowly, teasing, flicking, caressing. His mouth found her nipple at the precise moment he finally pushed inside her. She shuddered as he slid deep, to the exact spot that ached for him. The world narrowed with each stroke until finally Cassidy could resist no longer. She moaned as Jacob barreled into her, filling her with his powerful length. He gasped her name as he found his release and she was undone.
They clung to each other in the rippling lake water as they made love for the first time. Their passion slipping like fire through the chill water, burning up all the space between them until there was nothing left—until they were one.
They made love all day—greedily in the lake and then lazily inside the cozy cottage that overlooked it. They drifted to sleep, a tangle of limbs, listening to the soft tinkling of piano music playing on the Victrola. Cassidy reveled in the perfect moment. This was how it would always be. A lifetime of making love to the most wonderful man she’d ever known. A man who didn’t have a small-town mind. A man who encouraged her to chase her dreams. A man who accepted every flawed part of her. A man who shared her passion and won her over with his words before they’d ever met. Those letters . . . they had bared their souls to each other for weeks in writing. And now, they had finally joined themselves physically.
Cassidy sighed as she gazed at the sparkling engagement ring on her finger. She never would have thought she would prefer flesh to paper, but it seemed she just hadn’t found the right man . . . until now. She ran her slender fingers down the coiled muscles of Jacob’s abdomen. He was glorious and he was all hers. She bit her lip, hungrily admiring him as her eyes tripped over his healthy goods. She wanted more. Jacob’s soft laughter danced across her peaked nipples, awaking her desire once more.
“More?” His mouth hummed against her breast.
She only had time to nod before he was on top of her once more, easing himself into her, branding her as his own with each claiming thrust.
When Cassidy’s eyes fluttered open, she gazed out at the lake. The sunlight was watery, the sky gray. The leaves . . . where had they gone? She stared at the brittle skeletons of trees as she took in her surroundings. They were the same, yet different. The music . . . it was different too. She swore she’d been listening to Twilight Serenade, Jacob’s favorite song and only record. But the piano sound that drifted in now was . . . sadder.
Cassidy sat up and pain lanced through her leg, bringing with it the bitter truth. She was back at the lake house, but Jacob wasn’t there . . . and he never would be.
Perhaps coming back to Carter Ridge to write her final memoir had been a mistake. Her memories were so close to the surface here she was finding it hard to distinguish past from present. But isn’t that precisely why she’d come back? To feel again?
Cassidy slowly climbed out of bed, shocked to find herself wearing only her bra, underwear and a large cream towel. She examined her bandaged leg. So last night had actually happened then? She really needed to get a hold of her drinking. If only for a few more days so she could finish her manuscript.
She noticed the large plaid robe that had been laid at the foot of her bed. She shrugged off the towel and slipped into the robe, testing out her leg. It seemed sturdy enough. The throbbing pain was irritating but she could walk. A drink would dull it a bit. Maybe two.
Cassidy made her way to the open bedroom door and stopped dead. The door across the hall was open too. And there, with his back to her, sat a very fit man in a white t-shirt and black trousers and suspenders, playing the piano. She stared at his back trying to recall his name. It danced at the edge of her mind . . . was it Thomas? Her uninvited house guest complicated things. He would eventually get in the way of her plans. She’d have to find a way to get rid of him when the time came.
The haunting melody he pounded out through his piano sang in her bones. His music was as broken as her heart. Cassidy shivered involuntarily and crossed her arms tightly over her chest. Frozen to her spot, she leaned against the doorframe and soaked in the stirring sounds. Song after song she listened until finally he stopped playing and reached for the microphone she hadn’t noticed.
“Thank you for tuning in to WOR. Stay with us for the WOR Variety Show, up next.”
Cassidy blinked to life at the sound of his voice, quickly wiping away the tears she hadn’t realized she’d shed as Thomas flicked a series of switches on a large recording reel next to the piano. He caught her spying on him when he turned around. But he didn’t seem to mind. A warm smile split his face, making his thin scars disappear into deep dimples.
“You’re awake!” He rushed toward Cassidy. “How do you feel?” He asked taking her hand.
She pulled it away. “Fine. What . . . what were you playing?”
“The music? I’m sorry did it wake you?”
“Yes, whose was it? I’ve never heard that song before.”
“Did you like it?”
“Do you ever just answer questions?”
He laughed. “Sorry. Gene says I do that a lot. It’s my music.”
“You wrote it?”
“Yeah,” he said wincing shyly as he scratched the back of his head. “Did you like it?”
“It made me sad . . . in my bones.”
“Oh,” Thomas’s forehead creased and he looked down at his large scarred hands. Sorrow flickered in his dark brown eyes, chasing the warmth from them momentarily. “Yeah, it does that to me too.”
“And who is Gene?”
The light returned to his eyes. “He’s my roommate. We work together at the radio station,” he said excitedly gesturing for Cassidy to examine the recording instruments set up in his room.
She followed him into the large bedroom studio looking at the strange equipment. She hadn’t explored the rest of the house when she arrived. She hadn’t needed to.
She’d been here before, with Jacob. But that had been years ago now. This time when she arrived at Carter Ridge she wanted to get down to business. She had simply grabbed her drink and lugged her typewriter to the attic to work.
Thomas’s voice cut through Cassidy’s wandering mind. “Gene was supposed to come up here to work on his music for a month while doing a daily broadcast—”
“But you came instead?” she interrupted.
Thomas shoved his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. Gene begged me to take his spot.”
“Why would he give up a gig like that? It sounds like a pretty big deal.”
“It is. But Gene’s in love. He’s secretly eloping with an actress he just met. So he asked me to come up here in his place. I’m doing it as a favor.”
“Sounds like an advantageous favor.”
Thomas ignored her dig. “I swear he never mentioned someone else would be here. He told me I had the place to myself.”
Cassidy huffed. “That’s what I was told too.”
Jacob’s sister, Helen, worked for the cleaning service that tended to a bunch of ritzy homes in the area, including the Carter Ridge lake cottage. Helen was the one who made it possible for Jacob and Cassidy to come here together that first time. So when Helen mentioned some big shot radio star backed out of the rental but didn’t withdraw payment, Cassidy jumped at the chance to come back. But truthfully she wasn’t supposed to be here. She was just crashing, as many of the girls at the cleaning service did on occasion, to play house with their men.
As if he could read her thoughts Thomas asked, “So why are you here?”
“I’m working on my own project.”
“Are you a musician too? If you need this room, perhaps we can work out a schedule—”
“I’m not a musician. I’ll be working upstairs. And I think it’s best if we just agree to stay out of each other’s way.”
Thomas’s face fell. “Listen, if you’d like me to leave I can call the studio to see if I can make other arrangements with the rental agency.”
Retreat To Me (The Retreat Series Book 1) Page 2
