by Laura Moore
Pamela smiled, her lips parting to reveal her white, polished teeth. She blinked. Her body shivered in surprised delight. He could feel it brushing against him. He hadn’t realized they were standing so close.
“Oh, it’s gone. You were right. Thank you.” Blinking rapidly she said coyly, “I’d almost forgotten how sweet you can be.” And pressed a quick, unexpected kiss against his lips. Before he could shove her away she stepped back. “Well, I guess we can chat later. I’ve got to run.” She lifted her hand to his jaw the key chain to her Lamborghini dangling from her finger. It dropped to the ground with a soft, metallic clink. “Oops. How clumsy.”
As if in slow motion, she dropped to her knees in front of him. Then suddenly as if she’d lost her balance, hands reached out, closing around Caleb’s belt buckle. Pamela looked up and smiled.
A gasp of pain.
Seconds too late, the whole charade became sickeningly clear in Caleb’s mind. While he had been busy with Gaspar, Pamela must have heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Whipping his head around, he was just in time to see Cassie running out of the barn. Running as if she couldn’t get away fast enough. He made to follow her but Pamela stopped him, her nails digging like vicious claws into his thighs.
Cold fury washed over him. Reaching down, he grabbed the silk fabric clinging to her shoulders and hauled her to her feet.
“You deceitful witch. You set me up, didn’t you?”
“Oh, heavens, was that your girlfriend, Caleb?” Her voice sweet as candy, her concern equally artificial. “I thought she looked familiar, even from this distance.”
Caleb shook her like a terrier would a rat. “You knew she was watching, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t,” she lied. “But I’m glad she walked in. Now she’ll know you’re not hers. Anyway, you always loved my mouth on you, remember, Caleb? Ow! You’re hurting me!”
Pamela cried out as Caleb shook her again. This time fear threaded her voice. “Let go of me or I’ll have you charged with assault. Then you’ll really be in a jam. Stuck in jail, no girlfriend, no stallion. What a pity.”
“What the hell are you taking about?” Caleb demanded, furiously, aware of dread flooding him.
Her face flushed, she laughed. “Oh, Caleb, I’m afraid you made some very costly, very stupid mistakes. You and Hank should have been a little more careful when you hired Cassie Miller. Without my express agreement, you violated the terms of our contract. It’s all there, take a look when you get home. And believe me, you don’t stand a chance in court. No, the only thing that can save your horse is me. I have a buyer all lined up. All I have to do is say the word and you no longer have a stallion to play horsey with . . . Of course, I could change my mind.” Pamela’s eyes locked with Caleb’s as she took a step forward, her body pressing against his. Her nipples hard with excitement.
Her lids lowered like dark shutters as her lips moved closer to his. “Get rid of Cassie Miller and be real nice to me, just the way I like, and maybe I’ll forget the whole thing.”
A hair’s breath away, Caleb pushed her back, leaving Pamela teetering to regain her balance. He looked at her his face etched in stone. “You seem confused, Pamela. You’re the one whose talents lie in whoring. And sad to say you’ve sorely overestimated your charms. Damned if I can understand what I ever saw in you. But I thank God good old Ross came along, and took you off of my hands.”
“Why you bastard,” she cried, venom flashing in her eyes. “And isn’t it a shame I twisted the truth a bit just now. A little fib, really. News flash for you, lover: I already sold your beloved stallion this afternoon. You can kiss your pathetic dreams good-bye.”
Pamela made to spin on her high heels and leave, but Caleb was too quick for her. He grabbed her, his fingers crushing the silk of her shirt as he hauled her off her feet, lifting until her toes brushed the cement.
“Pamela, you’re a nasty piece of trash. You may have sold Orion and there may be nothing I can do to stop it. But I swear, if you ever come near me again, I’m going to drag your ass in court and slap you with a restraining order.”
“You wouldn’t dare. They’d never believe anything you said about me.”
“What about stalking, Pamela? I’m pretty certain I could line up witnesses around the block to prove it.”
“You wouldn’t dare. It’d never stand up in court,” she repeated, this time with less conviction as she stared at the terrifying expression on his face.
“I wouldn’t put it to the test, if I were you. Moreover I bet Ross might believe me all too easily. And there’d go your gravy train. It’s funny how word about your kind of sick behavior always spreads like wildfire through a town this small. Now get the hell out of my sight. Forever.”
24
H e found her just where he’d imagined, huddled in her old pony’s stall, bawling her eyes out. Curled into a tight ball of misery, she looked so forlorn, without even the presence of her pony to comfort her.
He laid a hand on her shoulder, his heart aching at the thought that he’d involuntarily caused her tears.
She flinched, recognizing his touch. “Get away from me. How dare you touch me.”
“Cassie, I need to explain . . .”
“I said, get away!” she cried, her face streaming tears. “How could you let her? I thought you . . .”
“Wait a minute,” he interrupted, bending low to bring his face close to hers. “You don’t mean to tell me you fell for that act of Pamela’s?”
“Dear God, what do you expect me to think, after what I saw back there?” she shot back. “Just how stupid do you think I am, Caleb? That I don’t know what’s going on when a woman’s down on her knees, unbuckling a man’s belt? Maybe I should have stuck around to make sure, is that what you mean? Then I wouldn’t have missed the final act!” She wrenched her shoulder free from his grasp, sobbing uncontrollably.
Urgently, he pulled her back, forcing her to look at him once more. “Cassie, listen to me, please. She was playing a game. She likes games. Especially those kinds. It wouldn’t have taken her a second to decide to amuse herself when she saw you walk into the barn. She likes to cause trouble.” As willful and devastatingly destructive as a tornado.
“I don’t believe you.” The stark, anguished words hung in the air between them.
She dropped her head, refusing to see.
He rocked back on his heels, the pain of her words slicing through him with the ease of a knife.
Slowly, anger began to grow inside him again, fueled by the gross injustice of it all, by Pamela’s treachery by Cassie’s lack of faith. His voice changed, still low but now laced with bitterness, each syllable coldly uttered. “So, Slim. You saw it all. Saw quite enough to realize that I’ve just been amusing myself, trying to talk you into my bed. But sick, horny, moral deviant that I am, I decide to have my ex-wife give me a blow job in the middle of my partner’s barn, ’cause waiting around for you to drop your pants was getting a mite boring. Sure. Sounds good. But hell, who knows, with the recent progress I was making with you, I might just have been able to score twice in one day.”
His hand reached up, grasping her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Tell me. Is that what you really think of me, Cassie?”
Her gaze slid away.
He dropped his hand. He rose, looking at her huddled form with bleak detachment. It was a damned shame he loved her so much.
“Yeah, well, I’m outta here. Have a nice life.”
Hours could have passed as she lay crumpled in the corner of the stall, crying, castigating herself with Caleb’s words, repeating them to herself over and over again. Each time coupled with a different memory of Caleb to torment her. His laughter, his teasing seductions, always giving pleasure as much as receiving it. The incredible patience he’d shown to the twins, to her. As each memory assailed her, the question of whether she could have unjustly accused Caleb haunted her. And if so, how in the world could she win his forgiveness?
More than a
full fifteen minutes passed before Melissa could begin to comprehend what was wrong with Cassie. She’d assumed the worst. Her heart had pounded with frantic worry as she fired out questions. Cassie’s incoherent and disjointed words, further garbled by her tears made the answers almost impossible to decipher. But the violent shake of Cassie’s head when she’d asked one of her questions eased Melissa’s fear somewhat. At least no one had died.
It was only when Melissa caught the words Pamela and Caleb that a glimmer of understanding dawned. Frowning, she made a noise of sympathy and rose to fill a glass with cold water at the kitchen sink.
“Here, Cassie. Drink this very slowly. It’ll help. And don’t forget to breathe.”
Melissa sat back down in the chair opposite Cassie’s and waited for the tears to subside. The girl looked a wreck, a miserable wreck. She shook her head, already suspecting the gist of what she was about to hear. She listened in silence, placing a hand over Cassie’s, watching the tears begin again as Cassie repeated Caleb’s parting words.
“Shh, now, it’s all right,” Melissa soothed, praying she spoke the truth. Suddenly angry she banged her fist hard against the top of the table, causing Cassie to start.
“That blasted Pamela! I have never been so tempted to do violence to someone before, and I am not a violent person! I wish she’d get out of town. Move to Hollywood or Miami and cat around there. That woman has been nothing but trouble for Caleb. Still . . .” she sighed, the sound causing Cassie to grow quiet, awaiting Melissa’s next words with a mixture of despair and apprehension. “Still, Cassie, as bad as it looked, you should have trusted him. Do you really think Caleb would act that way, that he would treat you so callously? Or me? Or Hank? Don’t you see how he looks at you?”
“I know or I thought I was beginning to know. But when I saw them together, it seemed so, so carnal . . . God, she’s so beautiful. And I just freaked. I couldn’t think straight, because the only thing in my mind was the two of them together. I guess that’s what she intended. Oh, Melissa, what should I do?” she cried, feeling the hopelessness of the situation.
“You’ve got to talk to him,” Melissa replied matter-of-factly. “He must be terribly hurt, I don’t think you realize how important you’ve become. I’m not even certain he’s aware of it. You’ve got to hope he can forgive you. ’Cause, honey you need to remember, his pride and honor were about all he had left after his marriage to Pamela. You did a major number on both of them today.”
25
T here were crickets chirping in the night air. The sound was incessant, violent. To her, it seemed an ominous sound, echoing the terrible fear in her heart.
She raised her arm, hesitated and lowered it again. For the third time. Stalling, as she’d been stalling for the past two hours.
Melissa had driven her directly home, making sure to instruct Cassie to take a bath and pull herself together, and not to skimp on the makeup; Cassie wasn’t exactly looking her best right now. A brandy might be a good idea, too.
Cassie hadn’t dared to glance in the direction of Caleb’s house when she returned, so she’d entered the larger empty one with no one to greet her, not even the dog, Finnegan.
It was a horrible shock when she turned on the bathroom light and caught her reflection in the mirror. Medusa couldn’t have been more petrifying a sight. Was that really her?
So she’d sat in the steaming bubble bath for what seemed an age, a cucumber mask covering her face, until she could have easily been mistaken for a stewed prune gone moldy.
Next, she went for the bracing, ice-cold shower scrubbing her shivering body until it tingled, shampooing her hair countless more times than even the label recommended. Cassie knew enough popular psychology to recognize her behavior as falling into some kind of obsessive or compulsive category but she was filled with the desperate need to wash her self away.
To emerge new, clean, and strong.
And at least she didn’t look so incredibly awful any more.
Another hour slipped by as she lotioned and perfumed herself, then dried her hair making it shine and fall about her in golden waves. She took a barrette and clipped a few strands back, allowing the rest to fall down her back.
She dressed with seduction in mind. But also to please herself, determined that she be armed with as many weapons and as much self-confidence at her disposal as possible in her battle to win Caleb back.
Because she was terrified she’d lost him.
This time, she tried a different approach. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, picturing Caleb’s smiling face as she lifted her hand and rapped her knuckles hard on the wooden door. In the seconds that followed, she held her breath, willing him to answer her knock.
She knew he was home. The windows of the converted carriage house were illuminated with a faint glow and every now and then, she caught a note of music that escaped and drifted out into the evening air.
The door opened with a jerk. Caleb stood before her. Her eyes widened involuntarily as she took in his appearance. Disheveled was the first word that crossed her mind. Drunk was the second. She swallowed hard.
He was shirtless. Half hysterically, Cassie realized she’d never even seen him without a shirt before, simply learned the sculpted contours of his body through her touch. What a sight she’d been deprived of. He was so very beautiful. Perfectly proportioned, lean, honed muscle. Her eyes traveled down his broad chest to where a narrow line of dark hair descended, disappearing behind the fabric of his jeans. Her eyes flew upwards, shying away from the sight of that top button, and the raw memories of this afternoon.
Color flooded her cheeks. How many seconds had she stood there, raptly cataloging Caleb’s assets? God, she had to pull herself together. She forced her eyes to meet his.
Caleb’s face was a blank mask, his eyes equally unrevealing. His tall, muscular body planted just behind the threshold, not close, yet clearly barring her from entering his home.
“Go away.”
“Caleb.” Her voice trembled, so she swallowed and began again. “Caleb, please. I need to talk with you.”
“Go away. I’m not nearly as drunk as I want to be, and you’re interrupting.”
The door slammed shut in her face, hard enough for her to feel the woosh of air following it cool her heated cheeks.
Unshed tears stung the back of her eyes as she stepped forward and knocked again. Nothing. Damn him, why wouldn’t he open the door? Frustrated, she banged harder.
From inside the house, the music playing on the stereo grew louder, the notes mocking her in their clarity. Fine, so he intended to drown out the sound of her knocking with music, just as he intended to drown his hurt and anger with a bottle of whiskey.
Well, desperate times called for desperate measures. Cassie refused to give in to despair. If Caleb wouldn’t invite her through his front door, she’d get in another way.
He sank deeper into the cushion of the large black leather chair in his living room, sipping slowly letting the amber liquid fill his mouth before it slid down, like a river of fire, into his belly. He supposed she’d gone away. Of course, he’d known she would come. She’d had to. That was the way these things worked, right? So she’d come and now she could just leave him alone.
He drank again. Shit. He realized that he’d be the one who’d have to leave. Had to get out of here. He’d call the hospital tomorrow and tell them he was taking an early vacation. What did it matter if it screwed things up for a while. He was the head partner, after all. They could deal with it until he felt like coming back.
He reached forward, carefully, studiously pouring more whiskey into his empty glass, his long legs stretched out next to the bottle. His bare foot brushed the sharp edge of crisp white letter paper, dated today, informing him of Orion’s sale, transfer of ownership effective immediately to a private group with the acronym TLM. He knew he’d never need to read the letter again. The printed words were etched like acid in his mind, which no amount of alcohol could wash away.
Leaning back, he stared at his toes, not seeing them. Yeah, he had to go away. Didn’t matter where the fuck he went. Didn’t matter at all, just as long as he was gone. He’d drive to Washington National and hop a plane to God knows where.
No way was he going to stay here, near her.
Seeing her. Wanting her despite it all. Wanting her despite the fact that he knew it was over. Over before it had even begun.
All he had to do now was drink until he passed out. Simple enough. Hopefully, he’d be so sick tomorrow morning he wouldn’t even be able to remember his own name, let alone hers.
Van Morrison’s Moondance album came on. Perverse, masochistic bastard that he was, he’d added that CD to the stack and now the song came back to torture him with memories of Cassie, so very beautiful, standing next to his stallion in the dusty light of the barn. Looking like an angel. Killing him.
He closed his eyes.
Cassie crept around the perimeter of the house, fully aware she’d have made a lousy cat burglar, feeling increasingly foolish with each passing second. She hadn’t found a single entry she could breach. All the windows she’d passed so far had been too high, except for the enormous picture window in the back. No matter how drunk he was, she doubted she’d be able to climb in through there without Caleb noticing her pretty quick.
No, she had to get in without his seeing her. That way he’d have a much harder time throwing her out—she hoped. Rounding the corner as stealthily as possible, she nevertheless whispered a fierce, “Yes!” in triumph as she spied a wide, rectangular window a fraction above shoulder height. She pressed her face against the screen. The interior was pitch black, offering no clue to what room she was peering into. But at least the window was open and was a new one at that, sliding horizontally, rather than up and down.
Bless Caleb’s parents for renovating the house and doing the windows, too.
