He stood up and began walking toward her. When he was a foot away, he got down on one knee.
“I—I’m not seeing that other woman, Justine. I swear it didn’t mean anything.” He placed a hand over hers. “Tell me what I can do to get you to come back to me.”
Justine’s heart began to hammer. But not because she was overcome with joy at Robert’s words, she realized. And his touch left her cold. She tried to slide her hand out from under his but he tightened his grip. She frowned and, meeting his gaze, saw his dilated pupils. She caught the unmistakable smell of alcohol.
“Robert, please let go of my hand.” She said it quietly, trying to keep the alarm out of her voice.
He swayed a bit and moved closer, ignoring her request. And then she saw it over his shoulder—the bottle cap he had left on the base of the fireplace.
He had brought a bottle with him.
She had never seen him in this state, and tried not to think about what might happen if he was not in his right mind. She had to think of something to get him out of her house.
“Look, Robert, I forgive you.”
To her relief, he loosened his hold.
“You do?”
He gazed at her wonderingly, and Justine knew then that the alcohol he had consumed had started to take effect. While he still had that dazed expression Justine managed to get up and start ambling away from him. Her gaze fell on the bottle that peeked out of his back pocket.
“Yes, Robert.” She gestured toward the door. “But now you need to get back to your cottage.”
He scrambled to his feet. Justine bit her lip. His senses might be dulled, but otherwise—
“Please let me stay, Just—Justine.”
In a flash, he had reached her, encircled her waist with both arms and was brushing his cheek against hers.
Justine inhaled the heavy scent of alcohol on his breath. Her stomach twisted, but before she could even think of breaking free he had pushed her back onto the couch and pinned her arms down. She tried to lift a knee but he flattened it with his own. She stared at his foggy eyes, and at the mouth that was looming over hers. She was strong, but he was a dead weight.
She closed her eyes, cringing at those lips about to touch hers...
“Luna—tackle!”
Sharp barks filled the room.
“Go get him!”
* * *
Robert Morrell backed away from Justine, only to be tackled by Luna. He was soon sprawled on the carpet, with Luna’s paws and body over him, his face a mask of terror as she emitted low growls.
Casson strode over to help Justine up. Her eyes were wide as she took in the scene before her, her face blanched, her hair messed up. He gave her a tight hug, then with one hand swept her hair away from her face, something inside him melting as she met his gaze, her eyes glistening with relief and gratitude.
He turned away and, taking his phone out, proceeded to take several photos of Robert with Luna. “These are all I need to prove that you were trespassing.” His jaw clenched. He shot an icy glare at Robert. “I hope you have a good lawyer. I’m calling the police.”
“No, pl-please.” Robert attempted to sit up, but promptly lay back as Luna growled and pushed her face into his. “I wasn’t going to—Justine, I’m really sorry.” Tears glazed his eyes. “I’ll be ruined...” he moaned.
“You should have thought about the consequences of your actions,” Casson ground out. “Luna—sit back.”
In the pathetic state Robert was in, it was unlikely he would attempt anything. Luna obeyed, but stayed close to Robert, eyeing him warily.
Robert sat up, his head slumping in his hands. “Please...” He lifted his head and looked at Justine and then at Casson. “I promise I’ll leave and never come back.”
He had a resigned look in his eyes as his gaze returned to Justine, and Casson caught Justine’s ambivalent expression. He started to dial for the police, but she placed a hand on his arm.
It took everything he had to put his phone back in his pocket. His eyes bored into Robert’s. “You’re one lucky snake,” he rasped. “I won’t call the police, but if you ever try to come near Justine again I’ll file charges immediately. Not only for trespassing, but for attempted sexual assault. And, trust me, I’m on the best of terms with Attorney Joseph Brandis.” He saw Robert’s eyes widen. “Yes, the Joseph Brandis.”
He watched as Robert slowly got to his feet.
“I don’t expect you to drive, in your condition, but I want you out of the cottage first thing in the morning. Give me your car keys. You can walk back; it’ll clear your head. Tomorrow you can walk over to my place and get your car—understand?”
Robert nodded.
“I didn’t hear you.” Casson took a step toward him.
Robert flinched. “Yes, sir.” He dug his keys out of his pocket and handed them to Casson.
“Luna, follow him out.”
Luna gave a short bark and leapt up to obey.
Robert stopped at the door to look back at Justine. “I’m s-sorry.” Shoulders slumped, he left, with Luna and Casson close behind.
Casson waited until Robert was out of sight. He gave a whistle and Luna came racing back, her tail wagging furiously. Casson crouched down and scratched behind her ears. “Good girl,” he said, emotion catching in his voice. He reached in his pocket and gave her a treat before opening the door.
Justine was sitting down on the couch. Luna bounded toward her and nuzzled into her hands. She seemed to snap out of her stupor and leaned forward to caress her.
“Thank you, Luna Lu,” she murmured.
Casson’s heart constricted at her use of Luna’s nickname. He watched Justine plant a kiss on Luna’s forehead, then bury her face in the soft fur around Luna’s neck. When he saw Justine’s shoulders shaking, and Luna attempting to lick her cheeks, Casson realized Justine was crying.
In two strides he was crouched next to her and had her in his arms. He let her sob on his shoulder, her chest heaving against him.
“It’s over,” he said huskily, caressing the back of Justine’s head. Then, slowly, his hand slipped to her cheek and he turned her face toward him. “You’re safe now.”
Justine’s breath caught on a sob. “But what if you hadn’t shown up with Luna?”
He took her chin in his hand and with his other hand stroked away her tears. “We showed up. That’s all that counts.”
He looked into her eyes, more gray than blue now. Her lashes were laced with teardrops, and he was overcome with a feeling of tenderness.
“Come and sit here,” he murmured, leading her to the love seat. “I’ll make you a hot drink.”
He took the soft throw that was on the arm of the love seat and draped it around her shoulders. Luna jumped up beside her, but before he could reprimand her, Justine smiled weakly at him.
“Let her,” she said. “I don’t mind.”
Casson strode to the kitchen. He needed a drink himself. Justine’s words played over in his head. What if you hadn’t shown up with Luna? He didn’t want to think of what might have happened. If Robert had—No! He wasn’t going there. It would just torment him. It was bad enough that he still had a picture in his mind of Robert bending over Justine, restraining her, about to put his mouth on hers.
Casson felt his stomach turn. He needed something stronger than milk. Brandy, maybe. He found a bottle, poured himself a shot, and put a lesser amount in Justine’s milk.
“Okay, Luna—skedaddle.” Casson sat next to Justine and handed her the cup of milk.
She took a tentative sip, then wrinkled her nose.
“Drink it all up,” he ordered. “It’ll help you sleep.”
“Casson?” She looked at him with eyes that were starting to flutter in exhaustion. “Can you and Luna stay tonight?” She shuddered. “What if he comes back?”
/> Casson set down his glass, his heart jolting. He saw the fear in her eyes. “He won’t come back,” he assured her, squeezing her hand. “But, yes...we’ll stay.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
JUSTINE COULD BARELY keep her eyes open. She peered at Casson drowsily. “Thank you for staying. You can take the spare room...”
She stood up and headed for the stairs. Luna followed her with Casson close behind. At her doorway, she turned and pointed to the room across from hers. Casson nodded but didn’t move.
“Goodnight,” she murmured. “Oh, just a minute...”
She entered her room and grabbed the robe that hung behind her door. The one she had given him earlier.
Casson’s mouth lifted at one corner. “Thanks. Goodnight, Justine.” His hand brushed hers as he took the robe.
She saw something flicker in his eyes and wished she could tell him how much she yearned for his protective arms around her again, but she didn’t trust herself in the hazy state she was in. Inviting his embrace could only complicate things.
She needed to sleep. Put the traumatic encounter with Robert out of her mind. She’d have a clearer head in the morning, and maybe then she might be able to make sense of her feelings about Casson. For Casson.
She realized he was waiting for her to turn in before heading to his room.
“You might want to close your door, Justine, or you could find yourself sharing your bed tonight,” he said huskily.
Justine felt something electric swirl inside her at the thought of him—
“With Luna.”
Justine felt her cheeks burn. She lowered her gaze.
Of course. How ridiculous to think that he would—
“And then I would have to come in and get her off...”
Her head snapped up. There was something in his expression. She swayed suddenly and in a moment Casson was there, supporting her. She breathed in his pine scent, felt the strength of his bare arms. Her lips brushed against his neck, and she gasped when he suddenly scooped her up and carried her to her bed.
For timeless moments she felt she was suspended in paradise, with Casson’s expression of concern spreading heat to every inch of her body. His eyes were fathomless, heady, and she wished the fog in her head would dissipate so she could—
“You’ve had a shock tonight, Justine. You need to sleep,” he murmured against her ear as he set her down softly on top of the flowered quilt.
Luna nudged her way past him to place her head on the bed and he gave a soft chuckle.
“Don’t even think about it, Luna Lu. You’re sleeping with me, remember? Come on—let’s go...”
Justine watched them disappear, and when she heard the click of the door she sighed and turned down the bedcovers. She undressed and slid into bed, too exhausted to find her nightie.
Within moments she felt herself drifting into sleep.
* * *
Leaving his door open a crack, Casson switched on a lamp on the night table and Luna settled down on the rug. He undressed and put on the robe, before stretching out on the bed.
He couldn’t deny that Justine ignited something within him. Seeing her so vulnerable, unable to defend herself against Robert, had aroused something primeval in him. Maybe if Luna hadn’t been there Casson might have given in to his baser instincts and pounded the guy. With no hesitation. But he had to admit he was glad that that scenario hadn’t taken place. It wouldn’t have been pretty.
Tonight had been an ordeal Justine wouldn’t soon forget. He found himself wondering what exactly had happened in her relationship with Robert...how long they had been together...if she had enjoyed Robert’s touch before their breakup...
Why did it bother him so much?
He hardly knew Justine. Yet when he had held her tight against him it had felt...timeless. Things had shifted, whether he liked it or not. She had managed to throw him off course. Made him question his motives. He had to regroup and think of a strategy that would give them both what they wanted. Surely they could find common ground and come to a compromise?
Somehow he didn’t think it would be as easy as it sounded.
Listening to the raindrops batting softly against the window, he closed his eyes—although he wasn’t sure how much sleep he’d get tonight, listening in case Justine called out...
* * *
Justine was awakened by a moan, and then realized it was coming from her. For a moment she felt confused, not sure where she was. Her head throbbed. She opened her eyes and instinctively squinted at the clock radio on her night table. Almost five a.m. She must have been dreaming, but she had no recollection of any details—and then she remembered the events of the night before. How Robert had come to ask for forgiveness, and how he had lost control. She felt her stomach constrict at the memory of how helpless she had felt, and how Casson and Luna had arrived just in time...
Why had they come to her house anyway?
She had been too shaken even to formulate this question last night, let alone ask Casson.
A warm rush permeated her body as she recalled how he had hugged her so tightly, prepared her a hot drink, scooped her up so effortlessly when she’d felt her knees give out... She had felt as safe as if she were snuggled within a silky cocoon. Even the effects of the brandy hadn’t stifled the desire that had overcome her while suspended within those muscled arms. Nor the stab of disappointment when he’d set her down and left moments later.
Don’t be silly, she chided herself. What had she expected him to do? She didn’t know much about Casson Forrester, but one thing she instinctively knew was that he wasn’t the type to take advantage of someone in such a compromised state.
And, despite her disappointment that he hadn’t gone any further, she was relieved that he hadn’t. If Casson took her in his arms again—and she had no reason to believe that he would even do such a thing—she wanted to have all her senses functioning at an optimal level, not depressed by alcohol or trauma...or a headache like the one she was experiencing now. She needed to take something quickly, before it escalated into a migraine.
She slipped out of bed and padded to the door. She started to turn the handle and suddenly froze.
She was naked, and Casson was in the room across from hers.
She shivered and retraced her steps to get her nightie from the plush chair by her bed. She stepped out of her room, glanced toward the room where Casson was sleeping, and tiptoed to the washroom, cringing when she heard the maple floor creaking on the way.
She closed the bathroom door gently and her gaze fell on the tub, still full of water. So much for her plans for a relaxing bath... She was about to drain it, then decided against it. It was still too early to make so much noise.
She found the bottle of pills and took two with water. She needed to have this headache gone before heading into the office. It was still too early to stay up, though. She’d be a wreck if she didn’t catch a few more hours of sleep. She paused for a moment.
What day is this? Relief flooded her. Friday. Her day off this week.
But what if Robert came back?
She froze, and then reminded herself that Casson was with her. He would make sure Robert didn’t come near her...
As she stepped gingerly into the hallway she heard a snuffle and looked across to see Luna’s nose edging the door open. Before Justine could even think of dashing into her room Luna had bounded toward her.
Casson soon appeared, his hair disheveled, his robe obviously thrown on without thinking. It was inside out and he had tied the sash loosely. Justine felt her gaze settle on his muscled chest, the fine line of hair swooping downwards, and then she started to shiver...and giggle.
Casson’s brow creased. “Do I look that funny?” He looked down at his robe.
Justine shifted. “No, it’s your dog; she’s tickling my feet.”
She tri
ed to back away from Luna, who was intent on giving her feet and calves a thorough licking. And then she realized how skimpy her nightie was. It was barely mid-thigh, with spaghetti straps and an eyelet trim around the sweetheart neckline. It wasn’t transparent, but the fine cotton draped over her breasts accentuated their peaks.
Mortified, she started to edge toward her room, all too aware of Casson’s gaze. Luna began to follow her.
“Luna—stay. Are you okay, Justine?”
His husky tone made her quiver inside, and she prayed her legs wouldn’t buckle under her again. Although Casson was trying not to make it obvious, his eyes were flickering over her body, from her neck and shoulders all the way down to her thighs and calves. And then back to her eyes.
It couldn’t have taken more than a couple of seconds, but to Justine it had felt like an eternity.
“Oh... Other than a dull headache, I’m okay.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “Stop, Luna.”
The dog had inched forward to start licking her feet again. Her tone had no effect on Luna, but in a flash, Casson was striding toward them both.
“Luna—stop.” His voice was deep, authoritative, and he didn’t have to put a hand on his dog. Luna snapped to attention and immediately assumed a sitting position, her chocolate-colored eyes never wavering from her master.
“You have to show who’s Alpha,” he said in a soft tone to Justine, his tawny eyes blazing, and she felt like melting on the spot.
CHAPTER EIGHT
IF JUSTINE DIDN’T soon go into her room he didn’t think he could continue to maintain his composure. Standing there in that...that kerchief-sized nightie, she had no idea how she was affecting him.
His heartbeat had accelerated with every shift of his gaze. It had started with her tousled hair, sleep-flushed face and the graceful curve of her neck, then revved up as it descended to the compact but curvy areas covered by her nightie. Areas that he could only imagine cupping, squeezing, kissing. And the sight of those shapely tanned legs, and the way Justine had wriggled them away from Luna’s attempts to lick them, had almost done him in.
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