by Lydia Rowan
Crushing disappointment filled the car but was quickly beaten back by the hope that always lived.
Cassandra didn’t understand. But she would.
8
When Cassandra descended the stairs the next morning, she was perfectly put together, her jacket and skirt discreet and sexy, her thick dark hair swept up into a high ponytail. And there was certainly nothing about her that suggested what had happened in the middle of her living room the night before.
At least until she met his eyes and gave him a slow smile that managed to be sexy and shy at the same time. Lucian was ready for a repeat, but instead he picked up the glass he’d set on the coffee table and extended it toward her.
“I made breakfast,” he said.
She laughed. “Orange juice. A specialty of yours?” she asked, and then she grabbed the glass and took a sip.
“My only,” he replied.
Her eyes flashed and she set the glass down and put her hands on his chest. “I know for a fact that’s not true,” she said, her lips turned up into a small smile, one that deepened as she moved closer to him and pressed her lips against his.
The first brush of her lips against his was like a spark on gasoline, and he was soon consumed by the flames. He teased her lips with his, coaxing her to open, and when she did, he slipped his tongue into her mouth and traced the warm cavern as he let his hands explore her body, the barrier of her clothing keeping him from touching her skin but only slightly decreasing his pleasure.
She broke away on a harsh breath, her fingers gripping his T-shirt tight. Lucian anchored his hands on her waist and pulled her lower body toward him so that the hard ridge of his erection was nestled against her soft stomach.
Cassandra sighed and then melted against him, her breasts grazing his chest.
“Good morning,” he said, whispering against her ear.
“Could be better,” she said.
He laughed. “Probably. I got your tire changed and had the car brought over,” he said.
She stretched up on her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. “Thank you,” she said.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
Her eyes were bright as she stared up at him and blinked. “Did you get condoms?” she asked, hopeful.
Lucian was rarely struck speechless but Cassandra’s question pulled off the feat.
“No. An oversight I’m regretting,” he said when he finally recovered the ability to speak.
“Not as much as me,” she replied.
He laughed. “I doubt that, but it’s probably for the best,” he said.
She snorted, looked at him skeptically.
“When I take you, I won’t be rushed. Besides, we should probably get to the office,” he said.
At the mention of work, her expression changed, some of the light leaving her eyes. She tried to step back, but Lucian kept her in his grip.
“Don’t worry, Cassandra,” he said.
She smiled tentatively, though it wasn’t as brilliant as the others this morning. “What are you talking about, Silver?”
“You’re transparent, Cass, but I understand where you’re coming from, and I don’t want you to worry. We’re still figuring out what this is between us, but that won’t change anything at work. We’ll keep it easy, okay?”
She looked at him skeptically but then finally nodded. “Okay.” Her expression turned serious. “Thank you for being there last night.”
“Anytime. Now give me a kiss,” he said.
9
“Cassandra?”
Cassandra glanced at Sloan, who again stood in her doorway.
“Don’t start, Sloan,” Cassandra said, looking back at the document on her desk.
“Don’t start what?” she said as she entered the office and sat down.
In the week since the flat tire, Sloan had been circling Cassandra but hadn’t yet raised the topic. One look at Sloan told Cassandra her time was up.
“So…” Sloan said.
“You’re going to drag this out?” Cassandra said.
“There’s something worthy of being dragged out?” Sloan said, tilting her head quizzically.
“Sloan, you’re terrible at psyops. Spit it out!” Cassandra said roughly, though she was sure the grin she couldn’t bite back took the intended sting out of the words.
“I just…have it on good authority that you and Lucian left together last week. I simply want to put the rumors to rest,” she said.
“More like Seth told you a story and sent you in here to confirm it,” Cassandra replied, knowing Seth was her main partner in crime.
“Even if that were true—and I cannot confirm that it is—I can’t reveal my sources. So what happened?”
“I had a flat tire. Lucian was kind enough to assist me with that,” Cassandra said.
Sloan arched a brow. “This is a new spirit of cooperation?”
“As far as you’re concerned, yes,” Cassandra said, flashing Sloan a quick smile.
Sloan studied her, and Cassandra saw the moment she relented. “Vanishingly light on details, Cass,” she said.
Cassandra started to ask if she wanted a drawing, but knowing Sloan, she’d say yes. “Is there some business issue I can help you with?”
“You’re no fun,” Sloan said. “But, as a matter of fact, there is. Can you remind Lucian to sign that document? Maybe when you see him later tonight?”
Cassandra chuckled at both Sloan’s brazenness and her ham-fistedness.
“I’ll talk to him,” Cassandra said.
Sloan nodded but made no move to leave. Cassandra sat still as well. After a few seconds, her friend relented.
“I’ll be back later,” Sloan said.
“I’m sure you will,” Cassandra replied.
Sloan laughed and then exited, leaving Cassandra alone with her thoughts. She hadn’t really expected to keep the new connection between her and Lucian a secret. Between Sloan and the guys, that was an impossibility.
But what she had expected was something. What, she couldn’t say, but, as Lucian promised there had been no change at all. She hadn’t even seen him since that night. He’d been on a trip for several days and she’d been in the midst of preparing the report for the shareholders, so there hadn’t really been time for them to connect again.
All perfectly reasonable, but disappointment still nagged at her. She hated that, but couldn’t deny it nonetheless.
She flipped through the file Sloan had brought, and a flash of anger, hot and unexpected, hit her. That hadn’t changed either. Lucian was still blowing her off, ignoring the simplest request.
Cassandra was on her feet and stomping down the hallway in seconds.
••••
“You summoned us, fearless leader?” Adam, who sat at the conference room table with his legs thrown over it, his posture deceptively casual, asked.
“Yeah, I have more intel on the next thing,” Lucian responded.
“South Asia is heating up?” Seth said.
Unlike Adam, he sat up straight, feet firmly planted, trying to do his best to stay cool, though Lucian could still see the excitement that he tried to hide. For a moment, Lucian wondered if he had ever been so young, and so eager, and doubted that he had. Still, Seth’s enthusiasm was contagious, and Lucian appreciated the reminder of what it was like to still be excited about the prospect of doing their work, and doing good.
He knew Silver Industries and the former soldiers it employed were valuable and provided an excellent service. Having Seth around was a great reminder of that fact.
“This might involve Tremaine,” Lucian said.
The mention of the former admiral’s name made Adam sit up straight. “What’s that asshole up to?”
“Nothing good. I’ll bet on that,” Seth supplied.
“We aren’t entirely sure yet, but there’s something brewing. Both of you should be ready to take a vacation,” Lucian said.
“He would choose some tropical ‘paradise.’
I fucking hate the beach,” Adam said.
“Wouldn’t be Tremaine if he wasn’t fucking it up for everybody,” Seth said.
“You know the guy?” Adam asked, looking over at Seth.
Seth nodded, none of his usual friendliness apparent. “He was my CO for three very miserable years,” he said.
Even Adam, who took a little bit more pleasure than all the others in needling Seth, nodded sympathetically. Lucian had never met Tremaine, nor had Adam or any of the others save Seth and Saint, but his reputation preceded him. It was an open secret in the tight-knit community that Tremaine was not to be trusted, something Damien’s experience slammed home. The only question was whether the former admiral’s activities went beyond immoral and into illegal.
Lucian had no definitive proof, but Tremaine and people like him gave all mercenaries a black eye, and Lucian made it his personal mission to put guys like him out of business whenever he could. One look at Seth and Adam, and he knew they felt the same.
“Pack your Speedo, kid,” Adam said, snickering at Seth.
“At least I can still get into one, old man,” Seth shot back.
Adam looked momentarily wounded, but couldn’t keep up the facade and began to laugh.
“I’ll let both of you know what comes of it.”
Adam and Seth nodded and then stood, walking out of the conference room trading barbs.
Lucian gave himself a moment to laugh but then began to look over the file. This would have been a great case to consult with Damien on, and exactly the kind of thing his brother would have loved. Even though Damien had stepped away from Silver Industries, giving Lucian control of day-to-day operations, he still remained chair of the board of trustees, and they’d always conferred about missions, as much as they could anyway.
But his brother was no longer himself, so that valuable resource was not open to him.
Lucian stood, turning over the Tremaine problem in his head.
That was unfortunate—he still missed his brother’s insight and experience, but he and the team would get the job done no matter what.
A moment later there was a knock at the door.
“Enter,” Lucian said.
There was a fifty-fifty chance of who the visitor would be, and Lucian couldn’t decide which would be the better option.
Sloan, who had worked for him for years and was great at her job and wonderful to have around, or Cassandra, who would no doubt have come to harangue him about some subject or another, piss him off, and at the same time, remind him he was alive.
Last week had only added another layer of complication. He’d touched her, had let her touch him, would have fucked her until neither of them could move if he’d been prepared.
He hadn’t been, and commitments had kept him from picking up where they had left off. Which might have been a good thing. He hadn’t seen her in days, but if anything, he only wanted her more. His desire for her, once an amorphous thing, had been solidified, made real. There was no doubt what the outcome would be. He and Cassandra were going to end up in bed; it was simply a matter of time and logistics.
But that certainty didn’t change the nature of their working relationship, which was still as contentious as ever if Cassandra’s pinched expression was anything to go by.
Still, he could confess that he was more than happy to finally see her again.
“Lucian, do you have a moment?” she asked.
He wondered what she’d do if he said no, because though she had asked the question, she walked toward him, her stance telling him she expected him to say yes.
“For you, Cassie, anything,” he said.
Her “it’s Cassandra” came out without her missing a beat.
Lucian laughed softly, cut off when she looked at him quickly. “What can I help you with, Cassandra?” he asked, making sure to emphasize her full name.
He watched her face for any sign of change, any hint of what she was thinking about, any sign she was as enraptured by him as he was by her, that what had happened between them affected her as much as it had him.
“Did you read my report? Have you read any of the last three I sent?” she asked.
As she spoke, she settled into one of the conference room chairs, and Lucian tried, and failed, not to stare at her as she crossed one leg over the other. To his relief and dismay, Cassandra was always tastefully dressed, her shirts never low-cut, the jackets she wore daily without fail, including Fridays, tailored to show the curve of her waist, the fullness of her hips, while managing to keep her classic tastefulness.
However, Cassandra had a weakness for short skirts, shorter than one might think from the first look at her.
She had reason to, because her legs were works of art, long, strong, feminine, sexy.
Every time Lucian saw them, got a peek at her full thighs as he did now, he couldn’t help but react. He shifted, began to move in order to take his mind off the thoughts that would take him down a road he definitely shouldn’t be going down.
Time for some antagonism to distract himself.
“I have work to do, Cassandra. I’m not a paper pusher,” he said, “despite what it may seem.”
“No. You’re not a paper pusher. Other people push paper for you. You’re a leader, the face of Silver Industries, and you have to act like it,” she said.
Lucian paused, the irritation he was feeling now real. “Don’t lecture me, Cassandra,” he said.
“Then don’t make me,” she replied. “How difficult is it to read a report and follow through with a couple of the action items referenced in said report?”
“Really difficult when you have real work to do,” he said.
Cassandra’s eyes flashed, her own anger also real, and she stood and faced him, standing toe-to-toe with him. Given the way she stood, her body coiled tight like she was ready to spring and looking for him to give her a reason to, one never would have thought he had nearly eight inches of height over her.
She certainly didn’t seem to notice.
“Are we going to have this conversation again?” she said.
“We don’t have to. You can just leave,” Lucian said.
“No. I won’t just leave. I’m here to do a job, and I don’t care how difficult you make it for me, I’m going to do it,” she said.
That stubborn streak was incredible, and Lucian might have marveled at it if he wasn’t too busy trying to swallow back waves of rage. “I’m busy, Cassandra,” he said.
“Too busy to sign a single piece of paper?” she said.
“What is so important about this piece of paper?” he asked, frustrated.
“Nothing, if carrying an illegal firearm doesn’t upset you,” she said.
“Illegal? I have a permit—”
“That expired a month ago.”
He went silent, and she simply shook her head. “Read my reports, Lucian, and sign that paper,” she said.
Then she turned on her heel and walked out of his office, having the dignity not to slam the door.
Lucian stared at the spot Cassandra had just vacated, wondering what the fuck had just happened.
He started to pace, suddenly too restless to stand still and more than a little confused. Yeah, he hadn’t signed the papers, but Cassandra was overreacting. It wasn’t like there was anything new in that. Even at the best of times, Lucian wasn’t exactly on top of details like—
He stopped short and then smiled. This was one of the times when Damien would have busted his balls for being oblivious. Cassandra was upset, but that anger wouldn’t have been inspired by the kind of oversight she’d come to him with. So this was one of those situations where they were arguing about one thing but really were arguing about another.
Subtext, Lucian believed it was called.
He fought back the urge to go to her. She was still pissed, so he wouldn’t make headway with her now. But later…
Lucian smiled again. He couldn’t wait.
10
Cassandra walked dow
n the hall, not stomping, though she wanted to.
But she wouldn’t. Because she wouldn’t risk Lucian seeing her pouting like a spoiled child. Her overreaction had displayed that well enough, thank you very much.
Because Cassandra was in control of herself, and she would not, not, give in to the anger that Lucian made her feel.
The attraction either, the fact that she had missed him so much after a short period of time.
When she’d walked into the conference room, seeing him standing tall, graceful, dressed in a starched white button-down shirt and black slacks, a costume to play the part of businessman that only made it more obvious that he was a soldier, her throat had gone dry.
It had taken everything she had not to respond, so in some way she should be grateful for Lucian’s cavalier attitude. At least that had kept her from giving in to that overwhelming desire for him, something that was especially hard when the heat of his gaze on her legs had made her squirm with need.
By the time she had made it to Sloan’s office, she had calmed down enough to speak.
“He still hasn’t signed the papers, so could you please remind him to do so?” she asked.
Sloan’s eyes widened and she sat up a little straighter, which made Cassandra realize how sharp her words had been.
“Sorry, Sloan,” she said.
Sloan shook her head. “No problem. Trouble in paradise so soon? What has our intrepid leader done to you today?”
Cassandra overlooked Sloan’s first statement and narrowed in on the second. “That man never listens!”
“Happens a lot here,” Sloan said with an accepting shrug.
“I’m just trying to help! Trying to do my job. Why does he insist on standing in my way?”
“Part of me is convinced he just wanted to see you get upset. You make the most amusing faces when you do, and they say fighting keeps things fresh,” Sloan said.
Cassandra laughed despite herself. “Why did I come here again?”
“To spill your guts. Confession is good for the soul,” Sloan said.
