“What are you thinking about?” he asked in that deep rumbly voice of his.
In the distance, above the noise of the storm, her son’s voice rose. He played with Ezio’s daughter, who appeared to be advanced beyond her years from what Solette had seen. Solette wondered if she should go and tell Joseph to calm down. They weren’t guests after all.
“Solette.”
His voice sent chills down her spine, and she chided herself. When she opened her mouth to answer, a crack of thunder cut her off. She winced and glanced toward the window. The sky had darkened considerably.
“I thought it would have passed over by now,” she said.
He gave her a knowing look. “Doesn’t matter.”
She suppressed a response. The Sartoris were bossy. “I’m a really good driver. I can get home without a problem.”
“You’re still pretending you’re going to disobey?”
“Mr…uh…Cason, really. You don’t need me. I can give you a deep tissue massage where you can handle it and painkillers for your more sensitive areas—”
“Mm, my sensitive areas. Yes, I do need something for those.”
“This is bordering on sexual harassment.”
“Would you like to sue me?”
He said it matter-of-factly. She had to bite her tongue to keep from letting a small scream out. Sometimes she wished she was the kind of woman who could tease back, especially with Cason. Something to make the bigheaded man blush to the roots of his silky hair. Of course, she wouldn’t do that.
And you shouldn’t notice how silky his hair is either.
She finished up with one leg and moved to the other. Cason leaned back in the bed as if he hadn’t a care in the world, but she was sure his muscles were pretty sore. He raised his arms and hooked them behind his head.
“How about we have a little fun this weekend?” he offered. “I won’t offer you money.”
She blinked, not entirely sure of what he meant. “Mr. Ezio offered me overtime and a bonus.”
“I assume you took it.”
She didn’t bother answering but concentrated on massaging his thigh and not letting her itchy fingers explore anywhere else.
“The fun I’m talking about is you and me, right here, late when everyone else is in bed.”
Her fingers spasmed, and she squeezed too hard. To his credit, he only gasped.
“I’m so sorry, Cason. You surprised me. Are you okay?”
He held his hand out toward her. She stared at him.
“I can’t.”
“You can,” he insisted. “You want to. I can feel it. I can read women very well, and you’re interested.”
She licked her lips. “You’re not very kind.”
“And I don’t intend to be. I’m not asking you to be my girlfriend or even a long-term lover. If you haven’t decided to go back to Joseph’s father and there’s no one else, what’s to stop you?”
She shook her head. “I’m actually surprised that would stop you.”
“You aren’t the type of woman who would cheat.”
She dared not ask if he was the type of man who would. What did it matter anyway? Like he said, he wasn’t asking for a relationship. The question was, could she ignore her own conscience when it came to work ethics? Could she ignore the fact that Cason didn’t really want her? She was just the person in front of him at the moment. If a beautiful woman showed up today or tomorrow, he would forget Solette’s existence. She should have a better sense of her worth than that, but she knew she didn’t.
“You don’t know me.” She said the words without heat, but they were true nonetheless. “I’ve only been working here a little over a couple weeks.”
“Why don’t you tell me about yourself then.”
She’d rather escape the room, but attraction to him kept her at his bedside. Visions of what they could do in that bed kept rolling through her mind, making her wish she could turn off her emotions at will and tell him to stuff his offer where the sun doesn’t shine. Unfortunately, she wasn’t mad at him. Her body was too busy wanting him.
“Start with why you’re afraid of me.”
Her gaze flew to his, and she ducked her head quickly to pretend to concentrate on gathering the tools of her trade. Outside heavy rain beat against the window. Even the weather conspired against her.
“Come here,” he ordered.
She stiffened. “Cason.”
“Do you still love him?”
Her head spun. He switched gears so fast she couldn’t keep up with him. “W-who?”
“Ah, I get it.” He about-faced again. “It’s my own ego thinking you want me.” Cason gazed down at his body, encased in shorts and a T-shirt. His legs were bare, exposing the scars from the accident. If he lifted his shirt, there would be more. Shattered glass and bent metal had attacked his flesh in multiple locations from what she had heard.
“Y-you get what?” she dared to ask.
He gestured to his form. “All this. My legs are useless, and my skin is marred. I’ve had more stitches than Frankenstein’s monster. Maybe I look like him too, and no woman could ever want me again.”
“Cason, it doesn’t help you to feel sorry for yourself.” She said it in as firm a voice as she could, but her heart broke because he believed it. The self-recrimination was there in his eyes. She’d seen it countless times, and the answer in Cason’s situation wasn’t to compliment him. Not if she didn’t want him to know she was as attracted to him as she would be to a man with perfect skin. He appealed because he wasn’t perfect.
He raised his right hand, fingers slightly curled and obviously weakened. A light touch to the patch over his blind eye went through her. Maybe it impacted her more because she could see in him and in his brothers how beautiful he once was. What a great loss, and yet, he was still sexy. If only his personality matched what remained of his good looks.
She swallowed. “I should go. Joseph might be hungry.”
“Kiss me.”
She froze.
“If you don’t want to sleep with me then give me some small satisfaction in a kiss.” He gave a dry chuckle, something she hadn’t heard him do in the time she had been at the mansion. There was no humor in it. “Am I too hideous?”
“You know you aren’t. It’s inappropriate.”
“All the same…”
Why did he have to suggest it? He wasn’t even begging or trying to get her to feel sorry for him as he had done when he manipulated his brother into getting her to stay. Arrogance punctuated the request, even expectation as if she should be eager. She was learning only a Sartori could make a favor sound like a demand. Cason might think he was as ugly as Frankenstein’s monster, but the Sartori blood kept him arrogant.
Afterward, Solette couldn’t say why she did it, but she leaned over. She intended to kiss him on the cheek. Halfway down, she’d already rejected the forehead because he would consider that an insult and might demand a do-over. She knew better. No patient had ever enticed her to cross the line.
Not that I make a habit of accepting viral men in their thirties either! I must have been nuts to accept this offer.
Cason let her kiss his cheek, and just when she was about to straighten, he caught her around the waist. This time she stopped herself from falling on top of him by bracing a hand on either side of his chest. Even with inches between them, his body gave off such a seductive heat. She couldn’t think straight. Her eyes might as well be blind because she had tunnel vision straight to his mouth.
Cason’s lips were nowhere near as full as Joe Sr.’s, but they enticed her, and his breath smelled of the strawberry jam she had given him on toast earlier. He loved simple pleasures like peanut butter and jelly. She did too, but her enjoyment had come of necessity growing up poor.
“Right here,” he whispered and pointed to his lips.
Her heart thundered.
“The only place I’m not scarred.”
He exaggerated, but she couldn’t help looking at the a
ngry mark on his cheek. At that moment, she realized she had kissed it. Cason stared at her, and she wondered if he noticed.
“I won’t let you go until you kiss me.”
She dug in her heels. “I can wait until you get tired of holding me.” Or they got caught again.
He feigned a yawn.
“Cason, if you get angry with me, you could have me fired. You could go after my license.”
“I won’t.”
“You might.”
“Kiss me.”
The man was stubborn down to the marrow in his bones. Then again, maybe she could gain a little freedom from this. She dared not explore that train of thought, and yet it wouldn’t be shaken. Cason was using her to alleviate his boredom. She could use him back. Just for an instant.
She kissed him. A light peck on the lips, but his fingers flared on her back. She relaxed a bit and leaned into him more. Her breasts brushed his chest, and he opened his mouth. Fear crept up her spine, but she parted her lips as well. His tongue swept the interior of her mouth, unnerving her. She tasted him as he tasted her. They explored for what seemed like hours, and then she drew back. He let her go.
She sat up on the side of the bed, facing away from him and trying to catch her breath. Her heart took its sweet time calming down. With a hand pressed to her chest, she willed herself to forget, but her mind was already replaying how it felt, how he tasted, the sounds they made, every single detail.
His voice broke through her internal torment. “Have you ever kissed a white man?”
She didn’t look at him. “No.”
“Then I guess we’re even.”
She faced him then with a slight smile. “You’ve never kissed a white man either?”
He didn’t respond or grin.
“I have to get Joseph. He’ll be hungry.” She stood and walked to the door, all the while expecting him to stop her. He said nothing. After she made it into the hallway, she stopped again to collect her thoughts. Regret washed over her, followed by defiance. It was an amazing kiss. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the memory of it? Cason got what he wanted, but it wouldn’t happen again. That was enough. Now she had to treat him with kid gloves so he would never get mad at her and use her foolishness against her.
* * *
“How is my brother doing?” Ezio asked.
Solette stumbled to a stop when she entered the kitchen. She had never seen this man inside the kitchen. For that matter, she had never seen any of the family there, except for Shakarri, who came in to get milk for her baby instead of waiting on a maid.
“I—He’s doing fine.” She reached a hand up to touch her lips, thought better of it, and tugged an earlobe. A feeling of exposure came over her, and she resisted it. Ezio couldn’t possibly know what they had done. “He’s making good progress. I don’t think we’ll have a problem with pain this weekend.”
“I’m sure,” Ezio said. “All the same, I want you here. I don’t want Cason to hurt any more than necessary—ever.”
She winced. No convincing him she didn’t need to stay. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I was going to get my lunch, and my son and I will be out of your way.”
Ezio didn’t ask who her son was or why he was there at the mansion. She didn’t know what that meant. Solette scurried to the refrigerator and grabbed her usual lunch. The housekeeper made it, but Solette always served herself. Clara would leave the food in a particular spot for her, and she would grab it and eat outside if the day was good. Sometimes she ate lunch with Cason, but most of the time she ate alone.
As she turned from the table with her tray, Ezio stopped her. “Where is your son’s lunch?”
She swallowed. “I planned to share with him. We didn’t expect—”
“Clara, make up another lunch for her son.”
The housekeeper jumped to action. Ezio downed the last of his canned drink with foreign writing on the side then tossed it into the trash from across the room. He frowned at Solette.
“You’ll both eat the entire time you’re here. You won’t share. Tonight, you can eat with the family as well.”
“Oh, that’s not necessary, Mr. Ezio. I know my place, and—”
He walked out the kitchen door as if she hadn’t spoken.
The housekeeper shook her head. “Non discutere con Signor Ezio.”
“Come again?”
“No argue.” She waved her finger.
Solette groaned. “I’m starting to understand that you don’t argue with any of them.”
She ended up sitting down with Joseph in the sunroom listening to the rain pelt the windows as she ate her food.
“Mom, wouldn’t it be cool if we lived here from now on?” Joseph asked.
“No.”
“Aw, come on, Mom. It’s really cool. Plus, Mr. Cason told me there’s a special library on the third floor.”
“What third floor?”
His eyes twinkled with conspiracy. “He says he can’t show it to me because he’s c—”
“Don’t you dare use that ugly word.”
“He said it. Not me.”
“I don’t have control over what Mr. Cason says, but you know better.”
Her son ducked his heard. “Sorry, Mom.”
“All right.”
The sunshine returned in his expression. She wasn’t surprised. “Mr. Cason said I can look for it if I want. I asked Catarina if she knew, but she had never heard of it.”
“He might have been pulling your leg.”
“Naw, Mr. Cason isn’t the kind of person who would joke about something this serious. A library, Mom. Think about it.”
She smirked. “Oh, you know him so well after a half day, huh?”
“Just sayin’.”
“Whatever, boy. Eat your food. And don’t go wandering around the mansion like you live here.”
“If I take Catarina is it all right?”
She sighed. “Please, stay out of the way, Joe. Just do that much for me?”
“Joseph, Mom. You don’t take me seriously at all.”
She laughed. “Get a job, and I’ll take you very seriously.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
“No. Eat your food.”
Her son groaned, but Solette’s mind had moved on from thoughts of Joseph, food, and secret libraries. She was consumed with what would happen next with Cason. Would she let him kiss her again? Or would he even ask? The biggest question was, where did she go from here? One would think a single kiss would take care of all the curiosity and speculation. It should have ended her desire for him if for even a moment she wondered what it would be like to kiss him. Instead, that small desire flamed to life and pushed her to kiss him again—and again—and again.
She was in big trouble, and there was no telling how she could extract herself out of it without losing something along the way.
Chapter 6
Solette yanked the covers over her head, but it didn’t stop the lightening from flashing behind her eyelids or keep her from jumping every time thunder roared. How she hated storms. Fear just rose up inside her and tried to squash out her life. At least, that’s how it felt.
“Everything’s fine, Solette,” she whispered into the darkness. “You’re in a safe place.”
The crackle in the sky made her cry out, and she leaped out of bed to fall flat on her face. Not staying where she landed, she scrambled up and hit the hallway running. Having no idea where she was going, she kept moving. She couldn’t even see where she was headed. The only thought in her mind was flight.
“Solette, stop now!” came a booming voice.
She didn’t think, but her body came to halt. Misery washed over her. She was so easy, so obedient, so… Wait, who was that?
She came to her senses in degrees and looked around. The darkness of the hallway ebbed and flowed like a breathing beast every time lightening flashed in the giant window on the far wall. Her heart threatened to crack, but at least the thunder had taken a break for a few minutes.
Her vision adjusted to the flashes, and she noticed Cason’s bedroom door standing open. She couldn’t see him very well in the dark recesses, but she thought she made out his form as he sat in bed. He had a straight shot of her where she stood.
“I don’t need you killing yourself in my house,” he called out.
She was about to ask him what he meant when she looked down at her feet. Not even two inches stood between her and the top step leading to the first floor. If she had kept running, she would have tumbled down them and probably broken her neck. Trembling, she stepped back, but the thunder returned and roared through her. She ducked to the floor and swallowed the scream threatening to break loose.
“You’re scared of storms.” He had lowered his voice, but she heard him.
“N-not really,” she lied. In the daytime, she could cope by stuffing down her fear. Not at night. “If you want I can shut your door for you.”
She turned back and reached his room, but the storm sent her flying into it and banging the door shut with her inside. Back pressed to the chilly panels, she told herself he didn’t notice how much she shook with no light coming into the room.
“No, you’re not scared at all.” Sarcasm dripped from his words. “You weren’t scared earlier. What’s the big deal now?”
He had no compassion whatsoever, but his cool attitude calmed her a bit. She pushed away from the door and approached his bed. Common sense stopped her before she reached it, and she chose a chair instead. “I wasn’t as afraid. It was daylight then. I kind of have an issue with darkness and a storm.”
“So that’s why you didn’t want to stay.”
“That’s so not why.” She suppressed a wry smile.
“If…” He grumbled under his breath. “If talking about it will keep you from falling to your death and putting a burden on my family, go ahead.”
“Thanks.”
“Do I hear a little bite in your tone? I never thought I’d hear it coming from you.”
She tugged her nightgown down and put her feet up into the chair before hugging her legs. Maybe it was the time of day and the feeling of being alone with him that made her relax just a little. Plus, while Cason was her patient, he still gave off a certain amount of strength. He might not even notice it, but she felt a tiny bit safer in here with him than in her room or in the hall alone.
Reaching His Heart: The Sartoris Book Three Page 4
