Cassidy and the Princess

by Patricia Potter

  He was only barely aware that she was unzipping his fly, that somehow his jeans and briefs ended up on the floor and he was leaning over her, his mouth leaving hers and his tongue tracing a path down her neck.

  “Cassidy,” she said, as if savoring the name on her tongue. Her body arched at the same time. Inviting his. Meeting his.

  His gaze met hers. He marveled at the passion in her eyes. They were so expressive, so full of emotion.

  He kissed her again, and then they were clinging together, their bodies fitting together in a rush of need and desire and, he thought, desperation. He entered her. He’d meant to do it slowly, but her body responded greedily, and together they were swept into a dizzying, dazzling journey that he could no more stop than he could halt the sun from rising.

  Marise felt all the tension ease from her body as his filled her with warmth and power, plunging deeper, and she responded. Her body reached for him, enveloping him, as they moved in an erotic dance together. His strokes grew faster, deeper, and then there were spasms, each growing in strength until both of them climaxed in one magnificent, fiery explosion.

  He held her next to him as the waves receded. But not the warmth. Not the comfort of his body.

  She lay in his arms, savoring the intimacy, wanting to stay forever in the cradle of his arms.

  Safe. So safe.

  She woke first. Sun streamed through the windows. Cassidy lay next to her, his cheeks dark with stubble. His breathing was steady and sure, his eyes closed and shaded by black lashes that matched the color of his unruly dark hair.

  She wanted to touch him, but she knew how little sleep he’d had these past few days. And she relished the opportunity to watch him with unguarded eyes.

  He was everything she wanted. He and the children they could produce together. A house. Maybe even a dog. Or two.

  She wanted to stay here forever.

  And tonight she would be aboard a plane.

  She would take memories of this morning with her.

  I love you. She told him that in her mind. It echoed in her heart. But neither of them had uttered the words. It was almost as if she feared they might turn around and bite her.

  She had been his job. He had protected her because he wanted to catch a killer. He cared, she knew that. But there was nothing more.

  She shifted, and his eyes opened. Slowly. Lazily. His hand reached over and took hers. “You’re beautiful, you know.”

  “So are you,” she said with a grin.

  “Don’t tell anyone else that,” he said gruffly. “I would never live it down.”

  “I’ll miss you,” she said.

  “Don’t go,” he said suddenly. It was as close to a declaration as he’d made. Her heart jumped, then settled back down.

  “I must,” she said.

  “I…something you said,” he said after a moment. “Are you sure you want to continue?”

  She saw the question in his eyes and she felt the need to explain. Or try to. Her fingers played with his. “I told you my father and brother died in an accident,” she said.

  His gaze bored into her. He waited.

  “My father was driving me to a competition. I didn’t…want to go. I dallied and we were late. He was driving too fast.”

  His eyes closed and his fingers tightened around hers. “It wasn’t your fault, love.”

  “My brother…he was the one who was supposed to go to the Olympics, to do what my mother and father always wanted.”

  He pulled her into his arms. She lay there, listening to the beat of his heart.

  “Is it what you want?” he asked.

  “It’s something I have to do. For my mother. She…lost so much.”

  “You must love it, too,” he finally said. “Or you wouldn’t be so good.”

  This time she was silent. She did love it. Just not to the exclusion of everything else. And that was what it had been.

  He rolled over and regarded her seriously.

  The phone rang. He gave her a wry look, and then, obviously reluctant, he rolled over and grabbed the receiver next to the bed.

  “MacKay,” he clipped out.

  He listened for several moments, then said, “I can’t come in until seven.” Silence. “I’m sure she’ll come if you need her.” He hung up.

  “He confessed,” Cassidy said. “His attorney is claiming he’s mentally ill, but I don’t think that will wash. They will need you if it comes to a trial.”

  She nodded and glanced at the clock. It was after one. A little less than five hours left.

  His gaze followed hers to the clock.

  “I’d better get dressed,” she said.

  He moved to a sitting position, and his fingers touched her face. “We owe you a lot,” he said.

  That wasn’t what she wanted to hear.

  He looked at her, his eyes masked. She saw a familiar muscle throb in his cheek. She wished she knew what he was thinking.

  Then he stood abruptly, rummaged in a drawer of his dresser. He pulled out a pair of jeans and a sports shirt, along with a pair of briefs, then headed for the bathroom. She heard the shower start.

  She thought about joining him there. But she knew what would happen. She didn’t think she could bear another goodbye.

  The flight was on time. For once. It would be, he thought. No reprieve. No more stolen moments.

  After what she’d told him earlier, he had nothing more to say. He knew now why she’d paid so much attention to her mother. He’d seen the guilt in her eyes.

  He’d wanted to tell her it was foolish. Bad things happen. It hadn’t been her fault. But he didn’t think it would help. Not now. It was something she had to work out for herself. After this week, she was well on her way to doing so. She had taken a huge step in reclaiming her life.

  He hadn’t wanted to load her with more guilt by declaring the way he felt. He hadn’t wanted her torn again. It was his gift to her. Maybe later…

  But God, it hurt.

  The flight was called. She turned around and looked at him, her eyes searching his. Then she stood on tiptoes and kissed him.

  “Thanks, Hoppy,” she said mischievously, then turned and walked quickly to the gate.

  The Olympics

  Cassidy, Manny, Janie and Joey entered the coliseum with the other patrons.

  It was Joey’s birthday gift. Only that. Or so Cassidy had told himself over and over again. He couldn’t admit that he was doing it for himself, too.

  He had not contacted Marise—not after the first time he tried her cell phone and reached her mother. Cara Merrick had been coolly polite at first, but then, when he persisted, told him to stay away from her daughter. Hadn’t he done enough already? Marise wanted to leave the whole Atlanta experience behind her and concentrate on the upcoming competition. Be kind enough to allow her to do that.

  It was the least he could do.

  Still, he couldn’t resist a trip to the Olympics. He’d even gone to Seattle, where she and Paul had captured the gold medal. But he hadn’t stopped to see her. She’d needed time. He’d needed time.

  She and Paul then won the silver at the Nationals. Cassidy watched them on television, with Manny, Joey and Janie. Except for the barest slip in a landing—thanks to Joey he was learning all the terminology—they had skated perfectly.

  And they had qualified for the Olympics. Her dream. Her mother’s dream. Paul’s dream. Cassidy didn’t want to deepen the guilt he now knew haunted her. He didn’t want her plagued by more conflicts of loyalties. The only way he could do that was to stay away.

  Even if it shattered him. The greatest gift he could give her was letting her go. Letting her be the best she could be.

  He could barely control the loneliness the thought brought to him.

  But still… He knew it would be nearly impossible to get tickets to the Olympic event, but he wasn’t above using his police connections to get inside.

  For Joey. Yeah, right.

  Would Marise know he was there? Woul
d she feel his presence, as she had felt so many things about him?

  He doubted it. But he still had to be there. For her. For himself. For closure.

  Would there ever be closure for him?

  A cop and marriage didn’t go together. How many times had he repeated that litany? And that pertained particularly to a princess. To someone accustomed to the best. To someone who stayed in great hotels, who visited and was adored in exotic cities.

  Would he even try to see her? He had complicated her life. Was it fair to complicate it more?

  And would she really want him to? She didn’t need him any longer. She was back in her own world. Wouldn’t it be better to leave her there? He didn’t need to create any more guilt in her, to make her choose between her deep loyalty to her mother and Paul, and him. God knows, she placed enough on herself.

  Still, he wanted to see her, if only from a distance. He wanted to see her win.

  And she was even more beautiful than he’d remembered. As she glided out onto the ice with Paul, she did look like a princess, not like the girl in a pair of jeans confronting a killer. And even from a distance, he saw the perfect unison between the pair, the obvious trust, the magic that flowed between Paul’s long grace and her poise and elegance.

  The music was from Phantom of the Opera, and Paul wore black clothes and a half mask, while Marise wore a shimmering white dress with a white scarf around her neck. Cassidy’s throat caught as she was lifted above Paul’s head, then lowered to the ice. He could barely breathe when they performed triple salchows, followed by a backward, upside-down lift.

  The long program peaked in the death spiral he’d seen on the video.

  So much grace. So much beauty. More than ever, he was struck by the perfection of the two. A team. A couple. There was an aura about them that cut him to the quick.

  When they finished to thunderous applause, her face was flushed, and even from here he could see that her eyes shone. She had the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. Wide. Spontaneous.

  The princess. Beautiful. Elusive. Unobtainable.

  He could only imagine how it felt to be on the ice, to feel the waves of approval embracing them.

  He was happy for her. But the ache inside his heart was almost unbearable.

  He thought they should win the gold medal. They received the silver, losing to a Hungarian pair.

  But she looked delighted. Even serene.

  She belonged here. The lump in his throat grew.

  Joey darted away down the aisle. Manny stood aside. “You know where she’s going.”

  “She won’t get in.”

  “I thought you knew my daughter,” Manny said wryly. “You go after her. Bail her out of jail if necessary.”

  “What about you?”

  “It’s godfather duty,” Manny said. “It would be embarrassing to bail out my own daughter.” He settled deeper into the chair. So did Janie.

  Joey had disappeared from sight. Cassidy remembered the fear he’d felt when she’d been kidnapped. Some of that fear returned now. Joey, though—well, Joey was fearless. And Manny knew Cassidy would go.

  His steps quickened. He saw Joey in the hall, a broad smile on her face.

  He wanted to scold her for not waiting for someone, but he didn’t want her to live in fear. Caution, yes, fear, no.

  “She’ll want to see me,” Joey said with certainty.

  “Yes,” he agreed. And he knew it was true. The Marise he knew would.

  He steeled himself, then took Joey’s hand and found his way down to the dressing area. There he showed his badge and handed the officer a note to be delivered to Marise.

  He leaned against the wall as Joey chattered nervously. His heart quickened. His breath slowed.

  Would she be the same Marise he’d known?

  Or the unattainable princess?

  Marise looked at the note in her hand.

  Brief. To the point. Like the man who had written it. Joey is outside the dressing room and would like to see you. Cass.

  Not “I would like to see you.” Her heart quaked. She wondered whether Manny had broken his word and told him what she planned. She heard the sound of thousands of people leaving the building. In her mind, she could still hear the enthusiastic applause of just moments earlier. It had been glorious, but not nearly as glorious as knowing Cass was standing outside.

  He had come. It was the first time she’d heard from him since she’d left Atlanta, though Manny had told her he’d been impossible ever since she’d left.

  That little tidbit had given her hope.

  She knew she’d never skated better than she had tonight. Perhaps a part of it was relief. The pressure was gone. She’d told Paul two months earlier that she couldn’t marry him. She also told him that he should start looking for another partner.

  She’d felt suffocated the first few days after she’d arrived in Seattle. The press had reported that she’d been instrumental in the apprehension of a killer, and she’d been besieged. The bandage on her neck had elicited horrified looks from her mother and Paul. Neither wanted to let her out of sight. She’d tried to forget about Cassidy, about the days that had brought both terror and joy. But she couldn’t.

  She’d found herself looking for him. Every time she went on the ice, her eyes searched the onlookers. In Seattle, she thought she’d seen him, but then dismissed the idea. He would have stayed to see her.

  He had not.

  Still, she made her decisions. She was tired, exhausted. She hadn’t realized how much until she reached Seattle. Paul didn’t want rest. He was driven to be recognized as the very best. She wasn’t. He’d wanted to sign contracts for a number of shows this spring. She wanted a break. It was that simple, and that complicated.

  So she told him she planned to slow down, and she wanted to give him time to find another partner. One was available now, a tiny skater whose partner had incurred a career-ending injury.

  Her mother had been convinced Marise would change her mind once the horror of her days in Atlanta receded. Marise knew she wouldn’t. She wanted to continue to skate, but in singles, and mostly in noncompetitive events. She also wanted to teach skating. To children like Joey.

  And now her mother and Paul had finally accepted her decision. Paul was already working with the smaller skater, Bethany, and Marise thought they would make a good pair. Bethany was smaller, lighter, and Paul was envisioning more gold in his future. And once Marise had let other skaters know she was retiring from the competitive world, several had approached her mother about representing them. She no longer feared she was abandoning either of them.

  Manny had kept her informed about the case. The district attorney’s office had reached a plea bargain with her attacker. Sanders would plead guilty to four counts of murder in exchange for four life terms. It was a plea bargain that would keep him in prison for life, with no chance for parole. The prosecutor had recommended it because he knew that Sanders’s attorney planned an insanity defense. This was safer and cleaner, and Marise would not have to testify. For that, she was grateful. She didn’t want to relive the terror.

  She wished, however, that it had been Cassidy who called to tell her.

  Still, she looked forward to working with children, and that allayed some of the loneliness she’d felt. And when the decision had been made, she found herself skating better than ever.

  Now it was over. She’d fulfilled her mother’s dream: competing in the Olympics. Now it was time to make—and fulfill—her own dreams. She only wished she could make those dreams with Cassidy…

  She stood just inside the door, took a long breath. What if he didn’t want her? What if he was here just for Joey? Resolutely, she opened the door.

  Cassidy kept an eye on Joey, who was absorbing everything. It helped to take his mind off the next few moments. And the past miserable months. How many times had Manny suggested that he call Marise after that first rebuff from her mother?

  “I almost got her killed, Manny,” he’d repli
ed. “There’s no place in her life for a cop, and you know how I feel…”

  “A cop and marriage don’t go together,” Manny said wearily, aping Cassidy’s timeworn excuse. “Forgive me if I don’t accept that. You made a mistake the first time. That’s all.”

  Cassidy didn’t accept that. He’d always believed there had been something wrong with him. Something that made him unlovable. Perhaps because of his parents’ fighting. He and his sister had always believed it was their fault.

  But in the past few weeks, he’d been so damn miserable, he was gradually rethinking his priorities. He had, in fact, decided that he was going after Marise. If, by any miracle, she…loved him, he would give up anything for her. He would find some way to support himself, support them, even if it wasn’t in the style to which he knew she’d become accustomed.

  But he’d had to wait until after the Olympics. He hadn’t wanted to destroy that dream for her.

  Then he’d hesitated again. Until Joey had forced the issue.

  And now the time was here, and he’d never felt so inadequate. Uncertain. Afraid.

  The door to the dressing area opened, and she was there. She had changed to a pair of jeans and blue blouse and sweater. Her hair, which had been in an elegant French braid, was loose. Most of the makeup had been wiped from her face.

  She was even more beautiful than she had been on the ice.

  “Hello,” she said.

  “Hullo,” he replied, silently cursing his own awkwardness.

  Strangely enough, Joey hung back. He was barely aware of her. Just enough to know she was there. “Joey wanted to see you,” he added, cursing himself for being so uninspired.

  She kneeled down. “Thank you for coming,” she said to Joey.

  “You should have won,” Joey said.

  “I did,” she replied with a certainty and confidence that struck him. Then she looked up at him, and her smile widened. She was telling him everything he needed to know. There was a new assuredness about her.

  He reached down and took her hand, and she stood.

  “You didn’t call,” she said.