“That’s fine,” he said. “Shall I have my lawyer draw up papers?” He knew she wanted a written agreement between them.
Cassandra smiled, dipped her head slightly in a nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you.” Then she glanced at Ruby, who seemed to be very interested in the gourmet manicotti on her plate, but of course, she was drinking in every word. Would she somehow use it against Cassandra later?
Jesus, why was she so paranoid? Or maybe she was just jealous. Good God, no. She wasn’t a possessive daughter.
She plunged ahead. “I’ll be fine for at least six months.” She had that much capital, but if the business didn’t immediately start making a profit—and what start-up ever did with all the initial set-up costs?—she would have trouble paying ongoing bills. “And if I can pay you back more quickly than anticipated, I will.”
“Don’t put too much pressure on yourself,” Ruby said, the first thing she’d added to conversation.
Was that concern? Or something else? She wanted to give a snippy reply, but she wasn’t sure if Ruby deserved it. “I won’t,” she said. “Too much pressure makes it more difficult to succeed.” She needed a balance between the pressure to achieve but not so much that she collapsed under it.
“That’s a very smart attitude,” Ruby agreed. And the conversation turned to lighter subjects.
After dinner Cassandra poured two glasses of wine and carried them out to the patio. When Holt tried to follow, she told him she wanted to have a little girl talk with Ruby.
The evening was warm, the breeze cooling. Flowers scented the air, and the chardonnay was tart and delicious on her tongue.
They were both enjoying the garden view when Ruby said, “Your dad’s very proud of you.”
“Thank you.” This could be the buttering-up stage, where Ruby tried to get Cassandra to like her.
“He’s always talks about you to everyone at work. What a talent you are.”
“I’m glad he thinks so.” Ward had probably heard an earful, too.
Ruby sipped the wine, smiled. “And I suppose you brought me out here so you can tell me I’m not good enough for him.” She was definitely astute, more so than Cassandra had imagined.
“I don’t know,” she answered. “Are you?”
Ruby hadn’t changed out of her work clothes, though she’d removed her jacket. The blouse had a scoop neck that revealed too much cleavage. A small black pearl dangled on the end of a chain, calling attention to her breasts. Despite the low cut, the blouse was more circumspect than some of the outfits Cassandra had seen her wear.
Running a finger around the rim of her wineglass, Ruby said, “I’m not a particularly honest person, but I will you two minutes of complete honesty. Your father is the best thing that ever happened to me, and I didn’t even know it.” Her eyes were unfocused as she smiled at an inner thought. She wasn’t a mild woman, but the look softened her. “I’ve made a lot of mistakes, and I’m sure I’m going to make a lot more. But he wants me, and I love him.” She tipped her head to glance at Cassandra.
She didn’t know what to say. Because she actually believed Ruby. “I’m happy to hear that.” It sounded inadequate.
“I wouldn’t justify myself to anyone else, but you’re his daughter and you deserve to know that.” She paused. “And that’s all I’m going to say.” She zipped her lips with her thumb and forefinger.
They drank wine in silence for several long seconds. Only time would tell for sure, but Ruby at least sounded sincere.
Cassandra considered asking if Ruby was going to cheat on Holt. But number one, it wasn’t her business. Number two, Holt had every clue it might happen. And number three, Ruby probably didn’t intend to cheat. At least not now. “I suppose I could be really dramatic”—Cassandra narrowed her eyes in mock menace—“and tell you I’ll be watching every move you make. But as Holt says, he’s a big boy.” She smiled, though it wasn’t totally sincere. “Now I’m going to ask for a favor.”
This time Ruby was the one giving her the eye.
“I want to borrow your card key and the key to my dad’s office.”
Ruby’s mouth dropped open. Cassandra had managed to surprise her. Then she narrowed her eyes just as Cassandra had only moments before. “No way in hell. I don’t care if you are his daughter. He’d kill me for violating the company.”
“I’m not going to violate anything. I just want to leave a present for him on his desk.”
“Leave it on his desk here at the house.” Ruby stared mutinously. Cassandra imagined that’s exactly how Ruby looked when some sleazy salesman tried to get into Holt’s office. She was his snapping guard dog.
But Cassandra had been planning this all afternoon, while she was driving to the accountant’s, after the meeting, and even as she was previewing another set of locations for the boutique. And she would have it.
“I want him to find it when I’m not around. It’s important to me,” she insisted. “This is the way it has to be done.”
“Leave whatever it is with me. I’ll put it on his desk.” Ruby was turning into a junkyard dog now. Any moment she’d bare her teeth.
With sudden, unexpected insight, Cassandra realized that Ruby could actually be good for Holt. She was loyal, fierce in her defense of him and what was his. She’d been like that in the four years she’d worked for him. It was highly likely that trait would translate to their personal relationship. By reading negativity into everything Ruby said, perhaps Cassandra was doing her an injustice.
But she would still get her way in this. “I’m trusting you with my father’s happiness. Now you trust me with the keys.”
Ruby hesitated, something going on behind her eyes as she stared at Cassandra’s throat. Then she raised her gaze. “All right, I’ll trust you.”
The keys held meaning to Ruby. Handing them over to Cassandra had equal meaning.
“But I need them back for the morning,” Ruby said.
“I’ll leave them by your purse when I get home tonight.” Cassandra had no doubt Ruby would be spending the night. Again.
Cassandra had a plan, and it wasn’t what she’d told Ruby. She wasn’t going to violate anything, so she didn’t feel guilty. Besides, she fully intended to leave her father a present. And Ruby would like it even more than he did.
* * * * *
“Yum.” Cassandra kissed Samson hard, opening her mouth, taking control. Samson was a good lover, willing to try anything she wanted.
She had such a delicious plan. At home, she’d managed to sneak a peek at Holt’s cell phone. He had all his VPs’ numbers in there. She’d only memorized Ward’s. As soon as she left the house with Ruby’s card and office keys, she’d called Samson. Cassandra believed in having friends with benefits in every city you frequented. Samson was available on short notice.
Then she’d texted Ward, telling him to be at her father’s office stat. He would come because she’d mentioned Holt. He would know it was her despite the unknown number because she’d referred to Holt as her father. And he’d come because he’d be dying to know what she had planned for him.
“Oh baby,” she whispered softly. Warm breath in his ear drove Samson wild. He grabbed her butt and rubbed her belly hard against his cock, then lifted her to the hard wood surface of her father’s desk. The lights had all been off, the building empty. She’d used Ruby’s alarm code to shut everything down.
Yes, there really was meaning in all the trust Ruby had bestowed on her. She wouldn’t violate it. But she would have such a marvelous time.
“Kiss me, you fool.” She loved the cliché. And she enjoyed his mouth. She’d chosen Samson in the beginning because, really, what woman didn’t need a lover named Samson. He was big, beefy, with biceps she couldn’t manage to get her fingers all the way around. His thighs were the size of tree trunks, which were so good for fucking while standing up. He could actually hold her aloft and lift her rhythmically. It was delicious.
“You know what I need, don’t you, baby?” She gave
him a catlike purr.
“Tell me, my love.” His voice was a deep gravel that stroked every nerve ending. He always used silly endearments; they were part of his charm. He imagined himself to be Fabio or some other romance cover model. He was a decent lover. He was perfect for what she had in mind tonight.
“Lick me.” She ran her tongue around the rim of his ear.
Samson worked his lips down her chest, over her abdomen. She’d worn a low-cut blousy top and a full, flowered skirt. They were off-the-rack, but sometimes a girl needed something simple with easy access. Samson pushed her skirt up and stepped between her legs. Before he licked her, he stroked her clit, kissing her mouth at the same time, his tongue mimicking what he planned to do.
Her excitement was high up in her throat, pounding in her ears, throbbing in her chest. Samson was good, but what she’d felt as Ward Restin watched her on the bed was even better. She meant to have that sensation again.
“I’m so ready, baby.” She pushed on his broad shoulders, forcing him down where she wanted him. He had to be there before Ward arrived.
Samson went to his knees before her and spread her legs. “You’re so pretty, Cassie.”
“Cassandra.” She didn’t let anyone use the shortened version, not even in the throes of orgiastic delight. Fisting her fingers in his thick blond hair, she directed him. “Now.”
He swirled his tongue around her clit, then shoved two hands beneath and clamped her butt.
“Oh God yes.” Cassandra rested her legs on his shoulders and went back on her elbows. “That is so good.” He was massive, blond, blue-eyed, and perfect. “Oh yes, just like that.”
Finally, finally, a flicker of movement caught her eye. She’d closed the blinds and only the desk lamp illuminated the room. Ruby’s office, which was an annex to Holt’s, lay in darkness. But she sensed the shadow, felt his presence. Ward was watching.
She flooded Samson’s tongue with moisture. “Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted, knowing Ward could hear her words, that he’d be hard, wanting her, needing her. In that moment, she understood her sexual problem over the past few months. Planning the boutique had only been part of it; boredom was the rest. Ward had woken her up. He’d set her libido humming again.
“Oh God.” The sweet ecstasy rolled over her. Her body jerked and spasmed. She clamped her legs around Samson’s head and kept him there, right there in that deliciously sensitive spot.
She opened her eyes and found the shadow in the office, stock still, tall, silent, and bristling with sexual energy like an aura around him.
Samson was just the device. It was Ward who made her climax.
Chapter Four
She was captivating in her ecstasy. Just watching her, Ward was perspiring, his cock hard. She writhed on the top of Holt’s desk, the blond wrestler type forcing her to ride the peak for long moments. The guy was broad with a thick neck, the hunky sort of every woman’s fantasy. And Cassandra was definitely enjoying every lick and swirl.
Her classic features were illuminated by the desk lamp. With the blinds closed, she was spotlighted, her breasts bobbing as she rolled to her partner’s rhythm, her fists burrowed in hanks of his hair. Then she turned her head, opened her eyes, and the light of them pierced him as if she could see every line of his body in the dark office.
And he understood her game. She wanted him here as her voyeur. As she had when he watched her on Wednesday, she came hard, her body bucking. He enhanced her pleasure, only God knew why.
He should be appalled. He should feel used. He should be irate that she was giving to another man what Ward wanted for himself. She’d labeled him a peeper, a pervert, a tool. What manner of woman was she? Worse, what manner of man was he?
Yet his heart pounded as the beefy guy backed away, grabbed Cassandra’s hips and flipped her over until she was facedown on the desk, her high heels braced on the carpet. With hands the size of bears paws, he pushed the flowered skirt up over her ass. Her cheeks were creamy white, delectable. Thick, stubby fingers worked between her legs. She moaned, turned her face once more to the outer office, and bit her lip, her gaze on Ward.
He wanted to stick his tongue in her mouth while the other man did her. He wanted to hold her, suck her nipples, be a part of it. He wanted her to suck him while she was being fucked. The idea both inflamed and terrified him. It was crazy. It was needy. It was unmanly.
Beefcake reached inside his jeans pocket and produced a condom packet, which he ripped open with his teeth. All the while he kept playing her. Unzipping, he pulled out his impressive cock. At least in that department, Ward wasn’t worried about negative comparisons. The guy broke finger contact to roll on the condom. He stood still a long moment, his cock poised at her core, one big hand on her sweet ass. Ward held his breath. Then Beefcake plunged, and Cassandra cried out. She gripped the edge of the desk, anchoring herself for his thrusts.
The man was an animal, going at her, pounding furiously.
“Yes, yes, yes,” Cassandra called out. “God, yes, please fuck me, please. It’s so good. I love it.” She turned her head. Her eyes sparked. “You love it too, I know you do. Say you do. Say you need it. You want it. You love it.”
“Fuck yes,” Beefcake said.
She hadn’t been talking to him. The words were for Ward. His answer was yes to everything. He wanted it, needed it, loved it. His body was one big mass of nerves, quivering with need, heady with desire. He would have walked into that office, unzipped, and stroked himself for her, if that’s what she wanted. He imagined the spray of his come across her backside, and he almost climaxed right then. His legs felt weak, his knees wanted to buckle. But he held himself straight, and he watched as she hit her peak, starting with a long, low moan, ending with a wail of pure delight. Letting go of the desk, she scraped one hand down her face, stuck two fingers in her mouth, then laughed.
Beefcake grunted, stroked hard and fast. The muscles of his face spasmed slightly as he came inside her. He short-stroked, riding the orgasm to the very end. Then he slumped down on her back, covering her, and Ward could barely see her under his bulk.
“Jesus, baby,” the man muttered in guttural tones.
“Oh Samson, you’re unbelievable.” Her laugh was muffled beneath him.
Samson? That had to be a joke.
Ward’s blood pressure was high, his ears buzzing. It was time to get out of there. He backed out of the office slowly, imprinting the sight on his brain. Her long red hair flowed over the desk, her small white hands lay beside Samson’s bigger ones. Their legs were tangled together.
He wasn’t sure exactly what she wanted from him, but he sensed she had some sort of plan. And he knew he’d do whatever she asked, whether he wanted to or not.
* * * * *
In the morning, Cassandra’s bedroom door was closed, and Ruby found both her card key and office key on top of her purse where she’d left it in the dining room.
“Ready to go, baby?” Holt was pulling on his suit jacket as he exited the hallway.
“Yes.” She affixed the card’s lanyard to her blazer and shoved the key in her purse pocket.
He pulled her under his arm and kissed her forehead. Holt did very little touching in front of other people, even his daughter. They’d had wild, raucous sex while Cassandra was out, but the moment Holt heard her rental car pulling up in front of the house, he’d dropped his voice. Ruby had done likewise without even thinking.
She relished the quiet time in the car as Holt drove them to work. She and Clay had usually gone separately. Ruby either had errands to run or Clay intended to work late in the evening. Or something else would come up. Later she and Holt might develop that same pattern, but for now, she was content to sit in the passenger seat and watch him drive. It was quite pathetic; she’d turned in a lapdog. Yet Ruby didn’t care. Holt made her happier than she’d ever been.
The only blot on her horizon was Cassandra. She hadn’t said anything to Holt, but his daughter obviously wasn’t happy about their mar
riage. And what was up with that business about leaving a present on Holt’s desk? Ruby felt tricked into handing over her keys. She resented it. Yet she didn’t want to resent Cassandra. She didn’t want anything to come between her and Holt. She couldn’t let Cassandra become a complication.
“You’re quiet,” Holt said.
“Just thinking.” She wasn’t going to voice any of her misgivings about Cassandra.
Holt lapsed into a discussion of the morning’s agenda and the tasks he’d need her to accomplish. She smiled to herself. It couldn’t be sex and romance all the time. She still worked for him. They hadn’t told anyone about the marriage plans yet. There was nothing in the company manual that said they couldn’t work together if they got married, but they’d have to change a few things, like who signed off her purchase orders, so that everything was aboveboard.
She could quit work—they certainly didn’t need her salary—but Ruby didn’t want to leave him. She knew what he needed, could anticipate most of his moves. She knew the customers, the suppliers, the board members.
“I’m not going to stop working,” she said, as if they’d actually been discussing the possibility.
“Of course not.” He flipped on his blinker, glanced back to his blind spot, then moved over for their exit. “I don’t want to train someone else.” At the bottom of exit ramp, he looked at her pointedly. “I want a woman who’s going to do exactly what I tell her.”
She loved the new status. When the office door closed, she was his sex slave. He spanked her and did all manner of kinky things behind that closed door. It was sexy and exciting.
As he headed the car back over the freeway, she turned her wrist to check the time. “I do believe we’ll be half an hour early.” Holt was a stickler for turning her into his slave only outside of work hours, which meant before eight, lunchtime, or after five.
Holt didn’t say anything, but his lips curved in a sexy little half smile that promised a little closed-door activity.
The Boss's Daughter Page 3
