Her perfume and shampoo scent drift to my nostrils and my cock stirs, responding to her proximity.
“Cassandra, did you hear me?” I stroke her face, enjoying the feel of her in my arms.
Her short gasps make me believe she’s close to having a panic attack, so I don’t let go of her or stop talking in a calming tone. I don’t want her PTSD to be triggered by her distress. I know a few things about it since I’m dealing with it myself.
“We’re safe. This is German technology, specially designed for such situations. Do you believe I would place people in an unsafe environment?” I take a moment to study her this close to me. Cassandra’s such a small thing, and yet she’s impossible to ignore.
“Mark,” she breathes out my name, and my chest expands as I cradle her.
Her pink tongue peeks out to wet her nude lips while she melts completely into my hold. Spellbound by her, I trace her plump outer lip with my thumb, watching her pupils dilate.
What I am doing?
All blood leaves my brain, responding to her scent and vulnerable look on her face. Before I realize it, I wind my fingers in her silky hair, tilting her face toward me for my taking. She gasps, feeling my demanding grip. Only when I have her full attention, I lean down, ready to taste her sweet whimpers, until she surrenders to me.
“This is the operator, could you please confirm your identity?” We jump apart as if someone poured ice water over us and stumble toward the speaker at once.
“Hello, I’m Mark Lawson and with me is Cassandra Cade. We got stuck here on the way down. Is anyone coming to let us out?”
“Sir, the city had a power shortage. They’re fixing it as fast as they can, but it might take a few hours to bring it back up. You should get comfortable; it might take a while.”
“Keep us updated on the progress,” I bark an order, making sure they won’t forget us here.
“I should call my family.” She dives for her purse, tumbling around until she finds her phone. “Dammit, there’s no signal. Can you check yours? I need to notify the au pair.”
“Same.” I show her the screen, and she lets out a curse.
“Can they contact our families and tell them we’re okay?”
I nod, and she relays the info to the operator.
Since there’s nothing to do but wait, I make myself comfortable on the floor and so does she. Cassandra’s cheeks are flaming red from the intimate moment we shared. It makes my blood run hot thinking about her earlier reaction.
“You should stop worrying your lip this much, it’s getting raw.”
She snorts at that, letting out an amused chortle at my subtle order.
Instead of heeding my advice, she kicks off her heels and starts massaging her calves, wincing as if they’re sore.
“Need some help?” I ask, worry gnawing at me. The injuries she has suffered didn’t disappear. They’re still there under the jaded skin, etched in bone marrows. Those five-inch heels must be hell to walk in all day.
“There’s nothing you can do.” She smiles sadly as I loosen up the tie and take off my jacket, getting more comfortable, hating the idea of me sitting and watching her endure another moment of agony.
“I never asked if you’re married or have a girlfriend.”
So, she noticed I haven’t asked the operator to contact anyone on my behalf.
“I’m not. My work schedule’s way too hectic to have one.”
She draws her legs closer to her chest, her dress stretching around her curves as she regards me.
“And you?”
“My heart has been battered enough as it is. It has space only for work and my children.”
Those words, written in piercing sadness, stir something inside my chest. Something familiar and potent. I have to curb an undeniable instinct to fill that aching void.
“How about your family, Mark? Mom, dad, brothers, or sisters?”
My eyes snap to hers.
“Wouldn’t they be worried about you?”
Ignoring her question, since it’s way too complicated to explain, I decide to distract her from this topic. Family is a hard limit for me. She wouldn’t understand why and I’m not ready to shed light on it.
“Allow me.”
She freezes as I lean closer.
“What are you doing?” Her hand shoots up to stop me.
“Offering you a message.”
Her nostrils flare in annoyance as she studies me. So much mistrust and confusion swirling in her eyes, tugging at my heartstrings. I stay still, letting my heat seep into her skin, hoping she won’t refuse me.
“You’re obviously in so much discomfort. Let me help.”
“Mark, this is a bad idea.”
A sharp warning’s in her piercing gaze, and I find it hard to catch a breath being this close to her. But I made up my mind.
“We have no idea how long we’re going to be here.” My voice sounds thick to my ears as I fight my inner instinct to pull her in my arms. “I can’t allow you to suffer,” I admit. “It isn’t just muscle soreness, is it?” I try to let her know I grasp the extent of her injuries, recalling the mangled car they were both pulled out of. I still feel the aftershocks.
She blinks away the tears and nods as if my sympathy's something she isn’t used to.
“It doesn’t matter,” she rasps, biting her lip.
“It matters to me.”
After another long pause, she pushes backward, resting her back against the wall.
“Okay, if you insist.” She exhales, getting more comfortable.
Relieved she agreed, I start massaging her calves, using pressure points to relax sore muscles. It’s hard to ignore how simply touching her makes me feel. Her red hair is splayed around her shoulders like a halo of fire, lips parted like an offering, driving my imagination astray.
A little moan of relief escapes her lips, sending blood straight to my hardening cock. Fuck! I shouldn’t have done this. This is a dangerous line I’m skirting. But I can’t bear the thought of her in pain. My heart won’t settle watching her suffer.
“How did you know?” she probes me, and I arch an eyebrow at her. “Not many would have thought about my injuries.”
She’s right. Not many would have considered her traumas. Especially when everything about her conveys a different message. Power. Wealth. Strength. Beauty. But I can recognize a suffering person when I see one. I know what it's like to be in pain, walk and breathe with broken bones. Someone did unimaginable things to me when I was a kid. I learned so much about pain and how to live with it. So did she. I can’t ignore it.
“It’s easy to forget you survived a car accident. You look flawless, healthy, and strong. But I know no one comes back from the wreckage unscathed or without painful reminders,” I tell her, watching her cheeks glow.
What Cassandra doesn’t realize is that this emergency lighting exposes her scars to me. Lines of artwork, carved into her perfect skin, tell about this woman’s heart-breaking story the media speculated about over the years. I trace the scars with my eyes while she’s entirely unaware her secrets are revealed to me.
“Tell me something about yourself.”
I raise an eyebrow at her demand to get more personal as if she’s trying to steer me clear from her devastating past to find mine.
“You seem already acquainted with my legs. I think we crossed the lines of propriety already.” The corners of her lips curl in a teasing smirk and her eyes sparkle like a pale blue diamond, waiting for my retort. But I also see the apprehension in there too. She isn’t comfortable with this; I shouldn’t have touched her.
“What do you want to know, Mrs. Cade?” this time I use her name to remind her who we are, but she ignores it.
“Does your family live in the UK?”
Irritation filters through me, fierce and biting. Cassandra groans, jolting her leg in my arms as I find an achy spot. I still her in place so I can work on the leg muscles again.
“I don’t have one,” I grumble m
y answer, casting a glance at her confused face.
“No parents or siblings?”
I shake my head, and she lurches forward, grasping my wrist as I press down with relentless pressure to increase blood flow. And make her forget about this.
“How about a dog or cat?”
While my lips curl in a grin, my chest aches with deep-rooted sadness.
I’ve never allowed myself to get tied to anyone even after I escaped him. Because he killed everything I loved. A little bird I made friends with and a stray cat I shared my food scraps with. He used everyone I cared about to break me a little bit more.
“I grew up in a foster system. I was five when I was moved to live with my foster parents in the States.” And he was evil incarnated. I shouldn’t have trusted his enigmatic smile and promises, but I did. And he broke me, twisted me.
“I’m sorry, Mark. It must have been incredibly hard to be this alone in the world.”
I switch her legs and start working, thinking how deep this conversation will go.
“Have any of them been good to you?”
Most of the people try to deflect the conversation, not comfortable to poke demons residing in the past. But not her. She’s diving straight in.
“I made it at the end.” I try to give her an out, not ready to speak about my complicated life.
“Are you always keeping people at a distance and then showing them out through the door whenever they get close to you?”
I still, locking my hard gaze on her as something fierce explodes in my chest.
I didn’t employ her to share my secrets. I needed her close to protect her from the dangers and maybe tell her the truth so she won’t live with guilt for the rest of her life. I owe that much to Logan.
No, I owe him my life. But Cassandra Cade is challenging my resolve.
“You are my employee, Cassandra. If I allow you an inch closer, you’ll be naked, screaming your release while I taste your dripping pussy on my tongue.”
Her chest rises and falls, responding to my heated words I don’t want her to heed. She withdraws her leg from my grip, her eyes blazing at me like two blue stones.
Shit, I probably come across like a harassing bastard.
“I didn’t mean . . .” I try to curb the violent longing so she wouldn’t need to taste the edge of my anger. “I’m sorry.” But she pushed my boundaries until I became a reckless idiot. Dammit!
Remember, she is forbidden fruit. Ripe and delicious but not meant for you to taste.
Her perfect eyebrows arch and her lips flatten in warning as we stare at each other for one condemned second. But when she starts to laugh, the tension dissipates like smoke.
“It won’t end well for you, Mark, if you try.” Then she stands, dusting her clothes and putting her feet in her heels. I follow suit.
“I’m sorry, it was out of line.” I close my eyes, rubbing my face as if I could erase what I said.
“I understand, my question was out of line too.”
We stand for a while studying each other, looking for something to smooth it over.
“What have they done to you?” she probes, not missing a beat even if her throat bobs with nerves and her pulse jumps like a scared bird under the paws of a cat.
I don’t believe she expects my answer, but I give her one.
“Your scars, Cassandra, are precious road maps on your skin.” I trace one with my eyes. “They tell stories about people you’ve loved and the ones who loved you back.”
Her hand rises as if to touch one as I step closer, crowding her.
Her gaze is liquid marble, swirling like a storm. “And mine are soul-deep wounds sucking the light out of me.”
I brush her loose hair away from her face to see them better. Helpless to deny myself, I softly graze one of them, and she gasps, surprised. I retreat before I lose control and taste the forbidden fruit.
She isn’t yours. But my heart thumps in my chest, claiming she is.
“Trust me, you don’t want to get close to my haunting past. Some things must never see the light,” I finally finish, enacting a barrier between us.
The light illuminates the space as if negating my declaration, and the air conditioning system starts to hum as the electricity comes back up. We part, listening to someone working in an elevator shaft above us. Silence stretches between us as Cassandra thinks about what I said. I straighten my shirt and pull over the jacket, watching her shift on her feet as if she wants to say something.
“Are you uncomfortable to be around me?”
She crosses her arms over her chest and leans against the panel.
“Have I scared you?”
Huffing, she collects her raincoat and bag, ignoring me for a moment.
But then she straightens and looks at me. “Do you think I shouldn’t be?”
“I told you the truth. My past is far too disturbing. You have enough wounds of your own to bother with mine. You should keep away from me. I’m not the man you want to get to know.”
“Why not?” Cassandra steps closer, her vivid beauty captivating me. “Are you going to hurt me?” Her face is a mask of fury ready to do damage if needed. Her eyes like dark pits lock on me, daring me to misstep. I realize I might have underestimated her. “Your past can only hurt me if you allow it. And by the way you take charge of your emotions, I doubt you will. Your demons will choke to death before ever touching me.”
That makes my chest expand with pride that she believes I’m a better man than I am. Before I can respond, the doors open and technicians let us out. We take the stairs just in case the elevator will get stuck again. Her brisk stride echoes like angry shots as I silently trace after her, not knowing if she has a way to go back home.
“Cassandra, wait. Let me take you home.”
She stops at the lobby entrance, turning to look at me with that deep gaze, reaching far into my own.
“You know, you’re full of yourself, Mr. Lawson. Do you think I’m a brainless idiot to sit in the same car as you? Not after you made sure I know where the boundaries are. Have a nice evening, Mark. See you tomorrow in the daylight. Bring your better self to work. Perhaps your vampire side could get some rest in your coffin tonight,” she mutters, turning around and marching into the night like fury in heels.
Shit!
I pull out my cell, watching her hips sway from side to side as I dial Higgins. “Is she covered?”
“Yes, sir, she is.”
“Good.” And I disconnect the call, chuckling at her vampire reference and passionate response to my attempt to push her away. I don’t know if I want her angrier or more compliant. Both options seem very appealing right now.
Why do I think she just changed the entire game for me? I don’t know if she realizes, but her vivid spirit’s calling me like a siren’s song from the ocean. I hope I won’t drown to death like a sailor before I have a chance to taste her lips and save us both.
5
Trigger
~Cassandra~
After I got home, I had to find something to do and steer me away from my racing mind. Cooking with my kids is a perfect distraction from work. But my pulse isn’t settling, even now, as I think about the conversation with Mark. About the alluring energy stirring between us whenever he gets close. I don’t know what I’m going to do about this.
It would be much easier to dismiss him if I hadn’t seen deep understanding etched in his intelligent gaze. My defenses melted a little as he admitted he couldn’t stand to watch me in pain. I was astounded he saw my traumas beyond my perfect façade. Not many people do, not after Helen Cade whipped me into a fake copy of herself and media filled the gaps about my character. No one sees me as a person anymore. But he did. And it was my undoing, a slip in my judgment.
It was a mistake to let him touch me, knowing magnetism like that man’s is dangerous for any woman’s sanity. Mine was shattered to pieces when he held me like I’m a precious gem in his protective embrace, and then his hands worked my muscles wit
h expert precision because he grasped the extent of my traumas. I shouldn’t have let him get this close, this personal. But I was curious, fascinated by him.
I could feel his loneliness and pain like it was my own. It beckoned me to get a little bit closer even if his warningI saw the shadow consume his gaze sent cold shivers down my spine, like phantom claws digging into my chest. His shields rose like blades to fight me, but instead of scaring me away, it drew me to him. Perhaps because talking about my family isn’t the most comfortable topic for me either, or maybe because I sensed his wounds as he felt mine.
Who are those people he’s hiding?
“Mommy, do you need salt?” Liane asks me as we both make dumplings for dinner. She loves to help me in the kitchen and by helping, I mean make a mess. Her blond hair is full of flour and her hands are sticky from the mix. But her face is bursting with joy as she kneads it.
“Yes, love, let me sprinkle some.” As I do, she tries to catch it, and her tongue peeks out to taste the grains.
“Salt isn’t sugar, love.” I laugh as she gags then tries to clean her tongue with her hand.
So, I pass her a glass of water to wash it down.
“Ew! That was disgusting.” Her whole body shudders.
Usually, Leon sits at the kitchen island and watches us work and helps only when the messy part is over. Today, he had a fight with his best friend at school and since I came back he hasn’t spoken to me.
“Leon, you want to tell me how your day was?” I holler, hoping he’s done sulking and is ready to talk. But I hear only a grunt, no.
“Do you want to tell me what happened?”
Liane lowers her head and pretends she didn’t even hear me.
For five-year-old kids, they both are way too smart. I guess I’ll have to wait since Liane won’t tell me either. This is what it’s like to have twins.
Sadly, Logan won’t get to see them grow or help them go through things. My chest throbs, remembering how little they were when he died. They hadn’t even started to walk before we lost him. To them, Logan Cade is only a face in the pictures.
Tangled IN LIES (Book#3, IN YOU) Page 5
