ROSE'S MATE (Shifters of the Bulgarian Bloodline Book 5)
Page 104
“Come in, come in,” called a red haired man. “Scott...Lawson,” he said, looking at a sheet on his desk. “Military man, eh?”
Scott resisted the urge to ask if Andrew Cargill thought he’d picked up the dress uniform at the Army/Navy store and settled for a nod. There was a blonde woman behind the desk, but there was no way that this was Catherine. Though the woman hid her age cleverly, Scott knew that she had to be in her middle 40’s. Her pale blue eyes scanned him as if he was merchandise on sale.
“Have a seat,” she said at last, gesturing to a leather chair in front of the desk.
“Thanks.” He sat down and looked around. There was no one else in the room. Wasn’t he even going to get to see the woman he was hoping to marry?
“Sorry!” A voice said from behind him. “I had to step out for just a--”
She trailed off as Scott stood up. He’d taken off his hat and now he almost dropped it as he put it under one arm and held his other hand out to her. Catherine Cargill was gorgeous.
Red hair fell down her back in waves and her large green eyes looked boldly into his. Her skin was pale and fair, telling him that the red hair was natural. Though she’d tried to cover them with makeup, he saw a faint dusting of freckles across her small nose.
“Scott Lawson,” he said, his voice a little rough.
“Catherine Cargill,” she replied, leaving her hand in his for a little longer than she really needed too.
His hand still felt warm when she took her seat at the side of the desk. In what world did this woman need help finding a husband? There should have been men packing that drawing room constantly, and not out of a desire for money.
“Navy?” she asked as her father dug through some papers.
He nodded, but he didn’t have time to say anything else. Mavis Cargill had cleared her throat and Andrew Cargill’s questions began.
“How long have you been in the military?”
“I joined when I was 18.”
“What are you doing here? Obviously you must be on leave,” Mavis put in.
“Yeah,” he said. “My parents needed some help on their farm.”
Catherine leaned forward. “Their farm?” she repeated.
He glanced at her, hoping that he wouldn’t see scorn on that beautiful face. He didn’t. He saw open, avid, interest.
“They raise cattle and corn and wheat,” he said. “Up closer to the mountains.”
Catherine opened her mouth to continue, but her father spoke over her, while her mother waved her into silence.
“I guess we don’t need to ask about your health,” Andrew said. “The Marines will have checked all that, right?”
“Navy,” Scott corrected automatically. “And yes, but I’m happy to see any doctor you choose.” And pay for, he thought, but he didn’t add that part. “Clean as a whistle with no health issues at all.” That was the absolute truth. Health had not been the reason for his discharge 6 months ago.
The questions went on. What had he done before the military? Worked the farm. That was true. What had made him decide to enlist? He’d wanted to help defend the country he loved. That was almost entirely true. Money had been a factor, but not the only one. What had made him decide to answer the ad? Curiosity. That was a blatant lie. What did he think made him stand out above the other candidates?
“I’m not sure,” Scott admitted. “I don’t know them. I just know that I’d really like to get to know Catherine.” He looked at her as he spoke and she smiled before glancing back down at her lap.
“Interesting interview,” Andrew said, standing up. “We’ll be letting you know. We’ve got a lot more people to see!”
Scott nodded, standing up too. The butler appeared in the doorway. How had he known that Scott was supposed to be leaving? If there was a bell, Scott hadn’t heard it.
Suddenly, Catherine held out her hand to him. “It was nice to meet you,” she said quickly.
“It was nice to meet you--” he stopped briefly when he felt a stiff piece of paper graze his palm. He pretended that he’d had to clear his throat. “Excuse me. Nice to meet you too,” he finished.
He waited until he was outside on the lawn to read the note. It was written on a sheet of unlined pink paper with Catherine Cargill engraved at the top in a darker rose. The handwriting was neat and easy to read.
“I feel like an idiot even doing this,” the note read. “But do you think that we could meet later? If you look to your left from our front door you’ll see a path. If you follow that path, you’ll find a gazebo. I’ll be there tonight. 2 a.m.” A scrawl of a signature and then, “P.S. Please don’t think I’m insane...you’re the first guy all day that’s been even remotely likeable.”
Scott glanced down the path. He knew better than to try to explore the grounds right now, and there was no way that he could just saunter up the front lawn at 2 a.m. Luckily for her...and for himself...he was great with getting into and out of tight spots. He committed as much of the estate to memory as he could, and then headed out, strolling casually around the perimeter. The fence was high, but he was confident that he’d find a way to meet her that night.
Chapter Four:
At exactly 2 a.m. Scott dropped over the wall at the back and waited to see if anyone had heard. He figured that Catherine would have told him if there were guard dogs roaming the place at night, ready to tear him limb from limb, but you could never be too careful. Maybe she’d decided to pick off her suitors one by one so that she didn’t have to get married.
He straightened up when he didn’t hear any noise and walked over to the gazebo. She was facing away from him, toward the path she’d told him to take. He could see her profile in the low lights she’d turned on. He’d been afraid that somehow he’d imagined how beautiful she was. That, in the stress of the moment and his relief that she wasn’t some braying imbecile, he’d thought that she was prettier than she was. He hadn’t. The low lights brought out the golden in her red hair and her figure was amazing in a long straight dress. He thought it was probably made out of silk, or satin, or something because it clung to her body.
His heart hammered in his chest and he had to remind himself that this wasn’t a date. This was...this was...he didn’t know. A business meeting? But he planned to marry this woman for her money and God only knew why she was marrying him. The last thing he needed to do was let it get personal.
He stepped up into the gazebo and she whirled around at the noise.
“I’m sorry!” he said quickly, keeping his voice low. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
She put her hand on her chest and gave him a small smile. “Where did you come from?”
Her jerked his thumb over his shoulder at the wall. “Went over that. There was no way I could have gotten in the front; I saw the cameras.”
Catherine bit her lip. “Those are new. I’d forgotten about them.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I figured that you weren’t trying to set me up.”
She gestured for him to sit down and she dropped into the swing, facing him where he sat on the low bench that ran the length of the gazebo wall.
“You changed clothes,” she said, pushing the swing gently, so that she rocked just a bit closer.
“Do you know how hard it is to keep an all white uniform clean?” he asked with a grin. “And you changed too.”
He kept having to struggle to keep his eyes on hers. The dress was frustratingly cut. Low, but not low enough. He could just see the swell of her breasts at the neckline.
“You look nice,” they both said at the same time.
She laughed. It was a light, soft laugh and he discovered that he loved the sound of it.
“I think you look a little better than me,” he said, glancing down at his jeans and his plain black tee shirt.
Her eyes skimmed him before she looked up once more. “I don’t know,” she said. “I feel like you’d probably look good in anything.”
Scott’s heart rate kicked up again. “So
,” he said, trying to sound businesslike. “What did you ask me here for?”
Catherine’s smile, which had lingered after giving him a thorough once over, vanished. She leaned back in the swing and sighed.
“I guess I wanted to warn you,” she admitted.
“Warn me?” Maybe there were guard dogs waiting to tear him apart.
“This whole...wedding thing...” She took a deep breath. “It’s basically a scam.”
His eyebrows went up. “How?”
“On two parts.” She rubbed her right hand down her left arm, looking away from him. “My parents want a reality show. They’re already in talks. There was a camera in the room for all of the interviews today. They plan to marry me off in front of the world.”
“Good God, why?” Scott demanded. “They’re not rich enough?”
“They’re never rich enough,” she said dryly. “But that’s not the point. They just want the attention. We’ve got the Hiltons and the Kardashians. They want to show the world the Cargills.”
Scott shook his head in disgust. “Okay,” he said. “So what’s the other part of their little scheme?”
Her fingers twisted together in her lap. “The other part is mine.”
That surprised him even more. He hadn’t taken her for the scheming type at all.
“When my parents started talking about this, of course I said no. What kind of person in this day and age arranges a marriage?” She demanded rhetorically.
“So what changed your mind?”
She sighed and began to push the swing again. The slight movement made her skirt sway and he saw several inches of long, gorgeous leg.
“Money,” she said bluntly. When he started to speak, she held up her hand. “Money of my own. To do whatever I want with. It will be put into an account that they can’t reach. It’s iron clad; I brought in a lawyer to advise me.”
“You didn’t have that before?” he asked, unable to quite believe what he was hearing.
Catherine shook her head. “No. My mother bought everything she thought I needed. I’ve never had a penny in my life. Not that I wasn’t told exactly what to do with, anyway. I was allowed to treat my friends to trips and shopping, but I wasn’t ever allowed to buy jeans or go anywhere but an island on vacation, or adopt a child.”
At his surprised look, she smiled. “I was 12 when I wanted to do that. I mean from those programs where you send money to them. They stay with their parents. Of course, now, I wouldn’t mind adopting for real...when I’ve found the man I really do want to marry.” She looked up at the gazebo ceiling and said, “So my plan is to marry the man, get my money, divorce him, and walk away. Free.”
“I see,” he said, leaning back and looking at her.
She bit her lip, then her thumbnail. “Well?” she finally demanded.
“Well, what?”
“What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking that you were smart to bring in a lawyer,” he said honestly.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Go ahead and tell me that I’m a horrible woman for marrying someone just for money!” she said, standing up and beginning to pace. “You don’t know what my parents are like! I’d never get out any other way!”
“Probably not,” he agreed easily, watching her move with feline grace around the small gazebo.
“I wouldn’t!” she said, as if he’d argued with her. “They’d just control me and control me and control me forever! No one would look down on me for leaving if money wasn’t involved!”
“You’re absolutely right.”
“I hate money!”
He shrugged. “I’m not really on speaking terms with it myself.”
It suddenly occurred to her that Scott wasn’t disagreeing. She stopped pacing and stood looking at him. “It really doesn’t bother you that I’d marry someone I don’t even know for money?”
He looked up at her, his dark blue eyes meeting her wide green ones. “Darlin’,” he said. “What do you think all those guys showed up for today?”
She dropped back onto the porch swing in a swirl of skirts and wearing a stunned expression. “Why didn’t I think of that?” she asked.
“Because you’re used to people using you, probably.”
“What about you?” she asked quietly. “What did you want to use me for?”
That hit like a punch in the gut, but he knew that he had to be honest. “My parents farm is in trouble. More trouble than I can get it out of. I was hoping that you’d be able to help me out with that.”
Catherine looked at him seriously. “Do you mean that? You really just want to help your family?”
He nodded. “I really do.”
She smiled suddenly. “You know what? You’ve got an accent...not a strong one, but there’s a little bit of a drawl when you talk about home.”
Scott rubbed his hand over his jaw, feeling a little self conscious. His cowboy accent had gotten him teased mercilessly in the military. He’d thought that he’d finally eliminated it.
“I like it,” Catherine said quickly. “It’s...it’s pretty sexy.” Then, as if she had embarrassed herself, she stood up again. “Well, I guess I’d better say goodnight.” She brushed her hair back off of her slightly pink face and headed for the steps of the gazebo. It was only when her back was to him, that Scott realized how much he wanted her to stay.
Chapter Five:
Scott stood too and pulled her against him. He hadn’t really meant to, but she felt so right in his arms. She was tall enough for her head to rest on his heart. He wondered if she could hear it pummeling his ribs.
Of course he’d been with women before; he’d even had a few one night stands while he was on active duty. But this felt different than any of those. Even holding her felt right. But he wanted to do more than that.
Catherine looked up at him, her wide green eyes meeting his. She looked surprised, but not like she was frightened. The last thing he wanted her to think was that he was taking advantage of her.
“You really...you really want me?” she asked, her voice low.
“More than anything,” he said, resisting the urge to kiss her.
“Not just the money?”
“If money was what I wanted, I wouldn’t have risked your family’s security system to be here,” he said honestly.
“Then kiss me,” she whispered. “I’ve been dying for you to kiss me since you walked into that room today.”
He dipped his head quickly, pressing his lips to hers. He’d made a plan to let her lead, not to push. Her lips parted for him sweetly and he discovered that he loved the taste of her. He nipped at her lower lip and her hands tightened on his upper arms as she gave a startled cry of pleasure.
Scott cupped the back of her neck with one hand, pulling her hair down from its neat arrangement with the other so that he could bury his fingers in all that wild red gold. Her hands moved to rest on his chest and slowly, almost shyly, she reached for the hem of his tee shirt.
He shrugged the shirt off and she looked at him. “Boot camp?” she asked with a smile as she traced her fingertip down the center of his chest and over his tight stomach.
He shrugged. “It helped, but farm work probably did more.”
“I’ve got to get on a farm,” she said.
He pulled back and looked at her. The silk dress was clinging to her like a second skin.
“I’d love to have you out there,” he said, skimming his hands down her sides until he rested them on her hips. “But I don’t see how you could improve on this. You’re sexy as hell, darlin’.”
She grinned. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Only one place I’m looking to go.” He could hear his accent deepening again, and he kissed her to stop her from commenting on it.
She didn’t seem to mind. He held back a groan as her soft palms swept over his chest and down, her fingers dipping just under the waistband of his jeans. He picked her up and then sat down in the swing
, pulling her dress up slightly so that she could straddle him. Then, with a move so quick it left her gasping, he’d tugged the silk over her head and tossed it to the gazebo floor.
Catherine automatically crossed her arms over herself, but he gently tugged them away. She was beautiful. The swell of her breasts against the cups of her lace bra, the curve of her hips, the softness of her pale skin. He wanted to kiss every inch of her, but that wouldn’t be possible out here. He settled for leaning forward and trailing his tongue along the edge of her bra.
“Oh,” she whispered as he teased her, sucking her nipples through the fabric, offering no direct stimulation. “Oh, Scott, that feels so good.”
He flicked the bra clasp open and it joined the crumpled dress. He cupped her breasts in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over her aching nipples. She arched into his touch, offering more of her body. He took the invitation, sliding his hands down to her panties. They were lace too and they matched the bra. He tried to find a way to get them off of her without her getting up.
“Just rip them,” she panted as his tongue swirled around her nipple. “God, I need your hands on me!”
Fine with him. He did as she’d said and then he cupped her pussy. She was already wet and he slid two fingers deep inside her, pumping them slowly and then moving faster. Catherine began to move her hips, riding his fingers desperately. So it had probably been as long for her as it had for him.
Scott rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit and she gasped, digging her nails into his shoulders.
“Yes,” she groaned. “Oh, right there, right there...”
He could tell that she was getting close and he wanted to feel it when she came, so he slowed down. She leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder as one hand moved down his chest. She flicked open the button of his jeans and dragged down the zipper.
When his cock was freed, she couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. At least 8 inches and very thick, it was everything she’d hoped for with her other lovers and never gotten.