by Sara Wood
‘Well, they only became apparent when I wore decent clothes,’ she pointed out wryly, intoxicated by his words. Rare! She felt delirious from his praise.
‘They got you noticed, I go along with that. Unfortunately people pay attention to appearances. But you won those job offers on your own merit so don’t put yourself down. It’s quite an achievement.’
She felt her breathing rate increase as hope spilled into her dulled brain. What had Cassian said? Something about applying yourself? If she wanted him to notice her, to respect her—and she did, oh, how she did!—then she needed time. Which she didn’t have. Unless she very quickly made herself indispensable.
He wouldn’t love her, she had to accept that. But could she settle for mutual friendship? Adam would benefit so much from Cassian’s strength.
Living with the man she loved—and keeping her adoration a secret—would be agony. But it was better than never seeing him again, and for Adam’s sake she must do everything she could to ensure that they remained in the house.
Looking at him from under her brows, seeing his long limbs draped easily over the armchair, she felt every inch of her body becoming fluid with adoration.
Quite subtly, so he wouldn’t realise, she’d have to produce such gorgeous meals and make life here so incredibly comfortable, that he wouldn’t want her to leave—whatever he’d said about being able to manage for himself.
He’d love being looked after—providing, she warned herself, she didn’t ever curtail his freedom.
‘You look sad,’ she said gently. ‘Are you thinking of Jai?’
His eyes flicked to hers and then darted away, his expression bleaker than ever.
‘Something else.’
She had to bite her tongue to stop herself from asking ‘what’. He’d tell her if he wanted to—and it seemed he didn’t. It felt as if he’d slapped her around the face. It was all very fine, being Rare, but that didn’t stop her from being excluded from Cassian’s inner life.
She wanted to call out Look at me, I’m here! Talk to me, confide in me! But she couldn’t bear the prospect of rejection. He didn’t need her, he’d made that plain.
Her idea wouldn’t work, she thought, her fragile confidence wavering. She’d never be able to hold back because she loved him so much. The sensible thing would be to close down. To shut out her feelings and become detached.
Her mouth shaped into a stubborn line. But she didn’t want to! She wanted it all—the house, the job, Cassian. Impossible. Her eyes filled with tears.
Dimly she heard the trilling of a mobile phone and hid her wet face with her hand in case he noticed that she was being a wimp again.
‘Cassian here,’ he murmured into the phone and she flinched at his warm, rich tones. ‘Hi, Sheila!’ he said enthusiastically and she flinched again, this time because she wanted to be greeted with delight like that. ‘How’s things?’
There was a long pause during which Cassian’s brows drew close together and his expression became concerned. Tactfully, Laura rose and slipped into the kitchen, wondering who Sheila might be that she could elicit such affection from him at first, and then reach into his heart to cause that look of deep consternation.
What a cloth-head she was! she thought grumpily, stoically drying her eyes and beginning to set out the breakfast things. Sheila was probably gorgeous. With ninety-four-inch legs, a degree in astro-physics and a background of extensive world travel. Oh, how could she ever have imagined that Cassian would give a damn about her—friend or otherwise?
And supposing he did, what then? They were too different for any relationship to blossom. She’d witnessed a similar disaster between her father and Bathsheba—and they’d been madly in love.
Little Miss Mouse, terrified of her own shadow, living on another planet to Cassian… The tears seeped inexorably upwards, clogging her throat.
‘I’m going to bed.’
He’d spoken from the hall, his voice tight with strain. Scowling, she shot a quick look at him, surprised to see how defeated he looked.
Whatever Sheila had said, it had shattered him. Laura swallowed and furiously tried to stem the newly threatening tears. She wanted to affect him like that!
‘Night,’ she muttered, hoping he’d stay and tell her what troubled him.
He didn’t move. It seemed as if all the stuffing had gone out of him. Her body ached with the yearning to run over and enclose him in a hug. But that wasn’t her way.
‘I’m going into Harrogate tomorrow,’ he said flatly. ‘Do you want a lift?’
So she wasn’t to be his confidante. Bereft, Laura slammed the marmalade on the table.
‘No. I’m shopping for Mr Walker.’
‘What?’
Conscious that he was barely listening to her, she dealt out cutlery with unusual carelessness. Her life was one long round of fun, she didn’t think.
‘I told you about him. He’s the one I shop for.” Seeing he was still staring blankly into space, she felt compelled to let off steam. ‘He’s smelly and bad-tempered and he does nothing but moan and complain. I walk the two miles to Grassington, get everything he wants, walk the two miles back laden with bags, unload his shopping while he pretends I’ve got the wrong variety and have spent too much, and then I make him a cup of tea, settle him in his chair with a rug around him and we watch TV for an hour together. That’s my excitement for the week. That’s what I am,’ she said with a sob. ‘Miss Exciting. I really know how to live life, don’t I? No doubt you’re riveted!’
‘Laura!’ he cried, his brow furrowed in bewilderment. ‘You’re upset! Why—?’
‘It doesn’t matter!’ she snapped, turning her back on him.
He pushed her around to face him again but she jerked her head to one side. Unfortunately her tears betrayed her and he gave a sigh then held her in his embrace.
‘It does matter.’
‘Only to me! And d-don’t ask me if it’s that time of the month,’ she snuffled, ‘because I’ll scream!’
Cassian merely held her tighter. ‘It’s been an emotional few days for you,’ he murmured in her ear. ‘I would be surprised if you weren’t on a roller-coaster.’
His hand lightly stroked her hair. It was a lovely sensation and she relaxed into him. But, to her dismay, he gently moved back.
‘I didn’t mean what I said about Mr Walker,’ she mumbled. ‘I do care. It’s an awful life for him being confined to his house.’
‘How long have you been doing all this for him?’ Cassian asked quietly.
‘I don’t know. Ever since his wife died. I used to help her do her hair. She had arthritis in her fingers.’
Cassian drew in a long and hard breath. He seemed to be thinking about something and while he did, his finger lazily toyed with her fringe. She froze, afraid that any movement she made might make him stop.
‘How badly do you want one of those jobs, Laura?’ he asked hesitantly.
Blue eyes met brown. ‘Desperately. I need a job to survive, you know that! How else can I afford champagne?’ she jerked.
He smiled at her brave joke, took out his handkerchief and handed it to her. ‘There’s another job you might be interested in.’
‘Sounds like an embarrassment of riches,’ she commented, handing back the handkerchief.
Cassian pulled out a chair for her and sat nearby. Absently he rearranged the higgledy-piggledy cutlery in front of him and she waited, realising that he was searching for a way to tell her something.
‘I…have a friend. A very good friend—’
‘Sheila,’ she hazarded.
How good, how friendly? her mind was demanding. Very? Bed friendly? Snuggle up together and exchange personal secrets kind of friendly?
He nodded. ‘She runs a charitable organisation. Handing out money to deserving causes.’
Cassian’s friend and with a wonderful job! Lucky Sheila.
‘I envy her,’ she said with a sigh.
Cassian felt his pulses race. She’d be per
fect. Honest, reliable, conscientious and warm-hearted, with a love of humanity and a desire to help people in need. There was no one else he could turn to at such short notice. And yet common sense was telling him this would increase her involvement with him…
‘She’s had to give it up,’ he said, pushing the words out before he got cold feet. The charity had to come first, whatever his doubts. ‘She’s flying to the States to look after her three nieces. Her sister and brother-in-law were killed in a car crash yesterday.’
‘Cassian!’ Laura cried in horror. ‘That’s terrible! The poor little kiddies. Poor woman! Is someone with her? Do you need to go with her?’
She was holding his hand, giving him comfort. He could feel the firmness of her grip, the roughness of her work-worn fingers and somehow her concern was making his heart tighten as if it were in a vice.
‘No. Her partner has gone with her. But…Laura, she’s frantic about leaving the charity in a lurch. It’s a small operation but it needs someone at its helm, someone who can be trusted not to misappropriate funds. People like that are hard to get—particularly at short notice.’
‘I imagine so,’ she said in concern.
Amazing, he thought. She had no idea of her qualities. Even now she had no idea that he was alluding to her. He took a deep breath, his passion for the charity overruling any personal wariness.
‘Laura, I told her she could go immediately because I knew someone who could do the job.’
She smiled sadly. ‘That’s great. Sheila must have been relieved—’
‘You,’ he said. ‘I thought of you at once.’
Her eyes widened, the spiky wet lashes blinking furiously. He wanted to kiss her. To take her to bed. He snatched away his hands and she looked upset at his rejection, her lush mouth trembling.
‘You can’t mean me! You can’t be suggesting I take her place!’
He tried to keep his head—even if his body had decided to betray him and go off the rails. He cleared his throat and wondered if he had a cold coming.
‘Who better? I’ve just set up an office for the charity in Harrogate—’
‘Well, there you are. That lets me out. How do I get there? It’s impossible, Cassian!’
His heartbeat quickened. She’d sounded deeply disappointed. ‘You would commute, and get in whatever time you can. There aren’t any rules attached to this job. Or I could drive you in sometimes. Then you will learn to drive. The charity will supply you with a car.’
Wistfully she said, ‘And when Adam’s ill?’
‘No problem,’ he said firmly. ‘Much of the time—when he’s ill, or if you have something special you need to do at home, you can operate from the house—’
‘Sure. With no phone, no computer—’
‘You’re determined to find obstacles,’ he said, amused. ‘A phone line can be installed. This isn’t the Sahara Desert. In the meantime you can use a mobile. The charity will set you up with everything you need, including a computer at home, plus anything else you need.’
‘But…the cost—!’
‘—would be a drop in the ocean. Particularly if the position goes to someone reliable and honest. There are a lot of sharks about. Money is a huge temptation and whoever runs this charity has carte blanche to sign cheques for massive amounts of cash. Appointing the right person is a real headache.’
‘But…wouldn’t you like the job?’ she asked, puzzled.
‘Me?’ He hesitated. ‘I’m…already employed.’
‘Oh. I thought you must be looking for something. You’ve only just come from Morocco and you haven’t exactly joined the 9—5 brigade,’ she explained, looking excited at the prospect of landing the job.
‘I…took time off.’
‘What do you do?’ she asked eagerly.
‘Computer work. Laura, never mind me. What do you think?’
She chewed her lip. ‘I don’t know. It’s a huge responsibility. I’m not sure I could do it—’
‘You could! Listen. There’s a fund. The income from its investments can be spent every year. Applications come in and the fund director—you—’
‘Me? A fund director?’ she asked, pink and beaming.
He laughed. ‘That’s what you’d be. And you’d sort through the applications, interview people from the charities applying, and write a cheque to those you think worthy, honest and with sound business plans. Simple. A matter of judgement. The salary would be at least double that of the jobs you’ve been offered—’
‘Good grief! I couldn’t take that much!’ she protested. ‘Not from a charity—’
‘For heaven’s sake, Laura!’ he said impatiently. ‘Value yourself! You’d earn it, I can assure you!’
‘Well,’ she said with a huge smile. ‘I can always give the extra away, can’t I?’
Typical. The people with least money were the most generous. He desperately wanted her to be financially secure.
‘You’ll do the job?’ he asked, hardly daring to breathe.
‘Don’t I have to be interviewed? See a board of directors or something?’ she asked with a frown.
‘I told you. Sheila runs it. The directors are…kind of sleeping. She’s left the matter of her replacement in my hands.’
‘Why? What’s your connection with the charity?’
‘I contribute to it on a regular basis,’ he said, omitting to tell her he was the only contributor.
She sighed. ‘You are so generous. And, judging by the state of your four-wheel drive, you’re not rolling in money.’
This wasn’t the time to say he wasn’t bothered about material goods and if a car moved, then he was happy with it.
‘I get by,’ he said blithely. ‘Forget me. Say you’ll do the job. It’ll be a load off my mind and I know you’ll be cracking at it.’
‘I can’t believe this! Yes, yes, I’d love to. Absolutely adore it!’ she replied, her eyes shining brilliantly.
‘Fantastic! Thank you!’
In sheer relief he caught her hands and grinned at her, completely bowled over by the delight on her face. Somehow they had moved closer and her lips were recklessly within reach. There was nothing in his lungs, not one breath. The very air seemed suspended as slowly he leaned towards her, a centimetre at a time so that she didn’t take fright.
Her eyelids closed, her face lifted and he felt his heart soar as if he were being lifted on a thermal. Gently he placed a hand behind her head and let his lips touch hers. She quivered throughout the length of her body.
‘Thanks,’ he muttered.
The sweetness of her smile, the tenderness of her gaze, created mayhem in his head. This wasn’t happening to him. Mustn’t happen.
‘I want to kiss you again,’ he said with reckless disregard for sanity.
Solemn and painfully beautiful, she seemed to sink more deeply into his arms.
‘It would be very unwise,’ she said, encouragingly unsteady.
‘Why?’ he asked, his voice as thick and slow as a treacle.
‘Because I’m going at the end of the week.’
His teeth clamped together. He had the impression that she was angling for an alteration to their arrangement. But if she stayed much longer than the next few days, he’d seduce her. And he must not do that. She was too precious, too vulnerable to handle a brief relationship. But a kiss or two would be all right.
‘All the more reason to kiss you before you leave,’ he murmured, pushing back the knowledge that he was deliberately deceiving himself.
She looked confused. ‘Why do you want to kiss me?’
Cassian bit back an exclamation. He’d never been interrogated like this before! Trust Laura. He smiled at her, his finger running down the side of her soft cheek. She gave a little gasp and he knew she longed to let go. It would be good for her, he rationalised. A release of passion. Hell—it would be good for him too!
‘Your mouth,’ he husked recklessly, ‘is soft and warm and far too near for me to ignore it. I like its taste. I like holdin
g you in my arms…like your scent, the way your body yields, responds, matches mine for passion…’
She surrendered. With a series of little sighs, she let her lashes flutter down and allowed her lips to part. Gently he pulled her close. Felt her heart beating hard against his chest. The exquisite softness of her high, fast-heaving breasts and the tight hardness of her nipples, apparent even beneath the material of her shirt.
His head began to whirl. She wore no bra. It would take just a movement of his hand and…
He swallowed, checking himself ruthlessly. A kiss. Nothing more.
‘You’re so beautiful,’ he breathed.
Her eyes snapped open, startlingly blue so close to his. ‘What?’
The lightest of kisses. ‘Beautiful.’ Another one, delicate, whispering, tantalising every inch of his body with the effort of denial. ‘Beautiful.’
‘Oh!’ she sighed in bliss.
He had no reason to be doing this except for sheer sensual pleasure. And pleasure it was. The smell of her, the feel of her hair beneath his fingers, the way she fitted him…
And he was using her. It wasn’t fair. Wasn’t right. Somehow he must extract himself from this situation without hurting her. Hell. Oh, hell, hell, hell.
Just a little more, a voice was telling him. A few kisses, a little more passion, the pressure of her mouth infinitely irresistible, the winding of her arms around his neck all that he could have wished for.
Against his chest her nipples were rock-hard now and her mouth had become more daring, exploring his with a thoroughness that thrilled and unnerved him.
He had to get out of this, he thought hazily, crushing her closer. Willpower, that’s all it took. All! When his entire body throbbed, his blood pounded so loudly in his ears that he couldn’t have heard if she’d yelled, when his heart was in danger of going into cardiac arrest and his hunger had never, never been so desperate…
Somehow—who knew how?—he gentled their kisses, moving a fraction of an inch back each time. And wondered how he could do this when she was as hungry as he, willing, dizzy with desire…
‘You,’ he croaked, like a rusty hinge, ‘are gorgeous.’
Her smile was intoxicating, lighting up her whole face. He couldn’t leave it like this. She’d imagine this was the beginning of a courtship.
