Casson slid the omelets onto two plates, and Justine buttered the toast. He poured coffee into two mugs and sat down next to her.
“Bon appétit,” he said, his eyes crinkling at her as he tasted the omelet. “Not bad.”
“Delicious,” she agreed.
“I’ll believe it after you’ve had a bite.” He looked pointedly at her untouched portion.
Justine could have kicked herself. Good one.
“I mean it looks delicious,” she said lightly, gazing down at her plate.
His leg was almost touching hers, and she tried not to think about it, or about the way his jeans fit, and the way his arms looked, so smooth and bronzed.
Like a sculpture that you just wanted to stroke...
“More coffee?” His voice melded with her thoughts.
She turned her head, her stomach tightening at how close his face was to hers. His eyes were like shiny chestnuts, with flecks of gold around his dark pupils.
“Yes...please...” she managed, and then concentrated on eating her omelet.
* * *
Casson waited until Justine was finished and then offered to take her on a tour of the rest of the house. He started with his study on the main floor, and he could see that she loved it, unconsciously stroking the gleaming surface of his mahogany desk and pausing to peruse the volumes in his floor-to-ceiling bookshelves.
She turned to fix him with a crooked smile. “Is this a lending library?” she said, a teasing glint in her eye.
“Only for—”
“Oh!”
She had caught sight of the mahogany spiral staircase in one corner.
“That leads up to my bedroom,” he said, as casually as he could. “When I can’t sleep I like to spend time down here with my literary friends.” He gestured toward the bookshelves.
Casson had a sudden vision of Justine in a silk robe, reading a book in his Italian leather recliner and then gliding up the staircase...
He gave himself a mental shake and suggested they go to the upper level. He ordered Luna to stay, and then walked out of the room and up another flight of stairs. He led Justine through two luxurious guest bedrooms, and then the guest bathroom, repressing his desire to smile as her eyes popped at the sight of the transparent walls of his shower stall, with its back wall designed to be the center part of a larger window overlooking the lake and hills. The enormous claw-foot bathtub looked out at the same view.
He proceeded toward the huge double doors leading to his bedroom. “Don’t worry,” he said in a conspiratorial tone, “I don’t have any nefarious intentions. It’s just that this room has one of the best views of the lake.”
If Justine had been impressed by his study and bathroom, he could tell she was blown away by his bedroom, with its rustic four-poster king-sized bed, cottage-style dressers, pine-green and forest-themed linens, the huge walk-in closet, massive custom-built windows and a set of sliding doors. They opened on to a semi-circular deck that spanned from one end of the house to the other, with a hot tub in one corner and a screened-in sunroom with lounging chairs and a bar. And a pull-out couch.
“For those summer nights when I’d rather sleep outside,” he murmured.
“Oh...my...” Justine looked out at the sparkling waters of Fairy Lake. “I... I have never seen anything like this. You must hate to leave this place,” she said, glancing back at him.
He gave her a measured look. “It serves its purpose...” He hesitated, and wondered if he should tell Justine that, much as he loved his home, he felt that something was missing. Or maybe a special someone. But, no, there was no reason for him to go there.
He had learned to keep his thoughts and feelings in check since his childhood. Maybe he even shied away from serious relationships, from love, because of the trauma of losing his brother, and in some ways his parents as well.
Why would he do anything differently now and suddenly open up to Justine? Reveal all his thoughts, hopes and dreams to her? Share the real reason for his resort venture? Although he may have cracked a bit, telling her about Franklin’s cap and toy car, he had no intention of ending up like Humpty Dumpty.
She walked to the edge of the deck and, looking over, gasped again.
He caught up to her and followed her gaze to the ground level, beyond the salmon-colored interlocking patio to a huge kidney-shaped swimming pool. Around it the lush landscaped lawns and gardens featured flowering bushes, working fountains and lounging areas. A white gazebo stood close to the waterfront, along with a half-dozen Muskoka chairs around a fire-pit.
A man trimming the hedges by the gazebo looked up at them and waved before leaving the grounds.
“That’s Phillip, my gardener, groundskeeper, car maintenance man and all-around good guy,” he said, waving back. “I lucked out when I found him. And his wife Sue. She does the housekeeping and provides me with an occasional dinner when I don’t want to batch it,” he said, grinning at Justine.
* * *
“With a place like this, I’m surprised you have to batch it at all...”
The words were out before Justine could stop them. She felt her face igniting at her implication that women would seek his company only for his material possessions.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply—”
“That the ladies are all over me just for my hot tub and my pool?” He laughed. “I generally don’t have time to do a lot of that kind of entertaining. My business ventures keep my hands tied. Although...” he raised his eyebrows and his tawny eyes pierced hers “...I occasionally untie my hands...”
Justine’s heart began to palpitate and she looked away. How could she even begin to respond? And what was this sharp twist in her stomach at the thought of his hands on another woman? In the hot tub and sharing his bed?
She felt pinned under Casson’s gaze. Sensed he had moved closer. She couldn’t help but breathe in his fresh pine scent, and when she tentatively looked back at him his lips were suddenly on hers, his arms bracing her against him. She gasped, and felt all her muscles slacken. Closing her eyes, she surrendered to the desire pumping through her. Pressing her hand against the back of his head, she responded hungrily as he deepened his kiss.
And then she felt him break away from her, so suddenly that she almost lost her balance.
“I’m sorry,” he said gruffly. “I didn’t intend to—”
“Neither did I,” she said in a rush. “We should go in...”
When they were back on the main floor, Casson strode over to the fireplace and took Franklin’s cap.
“This is what I came for,” he said lightly. “And the Mustang. I won’t be needing my truck for a while.”
* * *
Justine was glad Casson had slipped in a Spanish guitar CD. Luna didn’t seem to mind it at all, and had fallen asleep in the back seat. Justine closed her eyes, wishing she could fall asleep herself. It was so awkward now...especially in the more intimate confines of his Mustang.
She looked out her window, forcing herself not to steal glances at Casson. When he swerved slightly to avoid a porcupine she found herself pinned against him for a moment, and her heart flipped at the proximity of his firm lips...
Her thoughts tumbled about during the rest of the drive. And when Casson switched the music to Pachelbel’s Canon in D, Justine felt herself swept up by the sensual strains of the violins and basso continuo, closing her eyes as the wind ruffled her hair.
As the Mustang started to slow down before turning in to Winter’s Haven, Justine realized she must have dozed off. She asked Casson to drop her off by the office, and when he did, scrambled out of the car before he could get the door for her. He shrugged and got back into his seat.
“Thanks for the drive and breakfast.” She managed a weak smile.
Two teenagers from one of the cottages rode by on their bikes and waved.
> “Hey, mister,” one called out, coming to a stop not far from the Mustang, its silver-green exterior and chrome sparkling in the sun. “She’s a beauty!”
Casson removed his sunglasses and met Justine’s gaze. “She sure is,” he said softly. And then he turned and gave a thumbs-up to the boy.
Something swirled inside of Justine and spiraled up to her chest.
Had he just paid her a compliment? Or was the sunlight addling her brain?
Casson’s car thrummed as he started the ignition, made a sleek turn and drove away. When he was out of sight Justine walked back to her place, needing the time to replay the events of the morning with Casson. She caught sight of the coffee mugs, and as she filled the sink with soapy water Justine felt herself burning with curiosity about his guests.
Well, she’d find out soon enough.
She dried her hands and walked over to look at Mirror Lake. She had always loved it, with its undulating hills, their stunning colors reflected in the glassy surface of the lake. Hues of green, purple, gold, red and blue, blending in sensuous curves and prismatic streaks across the hilly landscape. A feast for the eyes.
Looking at it now, she felt a lump in her throat, thinking of Casson’s brother Franklin suffering at such a young age, and of his family, suffering along with him, all in their different ways. Poor Casson. He had been nine when Franklin was diagnosed and ten when Franklin died. Ten! Her heart ached when she thought of how Franklin’s passing must have changed their lives. And how Casson was still honoring his brother’s memory all these years later.
She had witnessed a hint of Casson’s vulnerability when he’d told her about Franklin’s cap and toy car, and she felt renewed remorse at her earlier thought that he had bought the Ferrari as a status symbol. Maybe Casson had been right... He wasn’t the man she’d thought he was.
Justine had sensed that Casson was unwilling to open up any further and share more details of his past to her. And why should he? She didn’t trust his motives when it came to Winter’s Haven—and Casson was well aware of this—so why should he trust her?
She tore her gaze away from the painting and went upstairs.
By the time she’d got out of the shower and let her hair dry naturally outside on the deck, it was almost noon. She biked over to the office and while she waited for Mandy to finish a call, quickly checked the register and saw the names “Ronnie and Andy Walsh” listed as Casson’s guests.
Mandy got off the phone, and Justine briefly told her what had happened with Robert.
Mandy’s mouth dropped. “Thank goodness Casson came to your rescue,” she said, her eyes wide. “And Luna! Talk about great timing!” She gave Justine a tight hug. “I’m so glad you’re okay.”
Mandy shot a glance toward the diner entrance.
“Your hero is in there,” she said in a conspiratorial tone. “Having lunch with his guests. Oh, here they come!”
Justine looked casually over her shoulder. Casson was laughing, with a guest on either side of him. Not two brothers, as she had expected. A good-looking woman and a boy of no more than five or six. ‘Ronnie’ was a woman. And the boy—it had to be her son—must be Andy.
The three of them looked like a family. As they approached, Justine tried to ignore the sinking sensation in the pit of her stomach, and she hoped her smile didn’t appear as fake as it felt.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CASSON HAD HIS arm around Ronnie’s shoulder and was holding Andy’s hand. Ronnie was a petite brunette, with a perky haircut that emphasized the fine bone structure of her face. She wore faded jeans and a retro-style cotton top with short gathered sleeves and a splashy flower print. Her running shoes were lime green.
Tiny but not afraid to roar, Justine couldn’t help thinking, unable to prevent a blistering sensation from coursing through her. Was it jealousy? She wished she could hide, but it was too late.
The little boy—Andy—was small, too. He wore a Toronto Blue Jays cap and a red-and-white T-shirt and jean shorts, and his skinny little legs moved quickly to keep up with the adults. He kept smiling up at Casson, and occasionally tugged at his hand.
Justine couldn’t make out their conversation, but as they approached heard Andy saying something about catching a big fish. Casson threw back his head and let out a deep laugh, and Justine felt her stomach twist at the intimate scene the trio presented.
Mandy went back to her desk to accept a delivery, and Justine stood there awkwardly, knowing how strange it would look if she suddenly left.
She wished she had never decided to come to the diner for lunch. Somehow, her appetite was gone.
Casson was still smiling when they reached Justine, but his arm was no longer encircling Ronnie’s waist. “Let me introduce my guests,” he said. “Justine Winter, this is Veronica Walsh and her little fisherman Andy.” He grinned down at the boy. “He says he wants to catch a big one while he’s here.”
Although he was pale, with dark shadows under his green eyes, Andy’s elfin grin made his freckled face light up.
“Nice to meet you, Andy.” She held out her hand and was pleased when he shook it and nodded.
“Nice to meet you too, Miss Winter,” he said, looking up directly at her.
Justine smiled, impressed at his communication skills. She turned to Veronica. “I hope you enjoy Winter’s Haven, Veronica.”
What else could she say?
Veronica held out her hand, and for a tiny person her handshake was surprisingly strong.
“Please call me Ronnie.” She smiled, her eyes crinkling warmly. “Everyone does—except for Casson, when he wants to be formal. Or when he’s scolding me.” She laughed. “You have a lovely place, Justine,” she said, waving her arm in an arc. “Casson was right. He told me it was enchanting.”
Justine avoided looking at Casson.
Of course he finds it enchanting; that’s why he wants to take it off my hands.
Justine hoped her cynicism didn’t show through in her smile, which was starting to waver.
“Hey, Cass,” Andy pulled at Casson’s hand. “When can we go fishing?”
Cass? It was obvious this was no ordinary relationship for Andy to be using this nickname. Justine watched as Casson’s eyes lit up again as he looked down on the boy.
“You’ve just barely arrived and you’re hounding me already!” He chuckled. “Speaking of hounds—there’s one waiting for you in Cottage Number One.”
“Luna!” Andy tugged at Casson’s hand. “Let’s go, Cass. I can’t wait to play tag with her! We can go fishing after that!”
“Bossy little thing, eh?” Casson’s smile took in Ronnie and Justine. “I have a feeling I won’t have a moment’s peace while this munchkin is here. Hey, there, Andrew Michael Walsh.” He feigned a stern glance at Andy. “If you pull my hand any harder it’ll fall off—and I won’t be able to fish with one hand.”
Andy giggled. “Then we’ll have to take her with us, since Mommy doesn’t like to fish.”
Justine flushed, not knowing what to say.
Ronnie burst out laughing. “Andy’s right. All I want to catch while I’m here are some rays.” She looked up at Casson and winked. “We’ll settle into the cottage while you go and get Luna’s food at the vet’s.” She turned to Justine. “Nice meeting you!”
As Ronnie’s car turned the bend and disappeared Justine’s mind launched a battle inside her brain’s hemispheres of reason and judgment. Casson obviously had no scruples—kissing her during the storm, and again at his house, when all along he had a significant other.
How uncouth of him! Despicable, really, when the relationship involved a child.
A child who obviously adored him.
The more she thought about it, the more her stomach twisted at the thought of Casson deceiving Ronnie and continuing to allow Andy to become attached to him. If he and Ronnie broke up Andy
would undoubtedly be heartbroken. Casson’s underhandedness, his toying with the emotions of both Ronnie and Andy, was reprehensible.
He was toying with you, too...
She cringed.
And you enjoyed his charms...
“Are you all right?” Casson had turned to face her. “You looked like you were in pain...”
Justine caught a whiff of his cologne, its now familiar woodsy scent. She so wanted to give him a blast for being a cad, but the concern in his voice made her hesitate. And then she recalled the look of trust in Andy’s eyes, the hero-worship...
“I’m fine,” she heard herself reply coldly as his hand cupped her under one elbow.
She stepped away from him, trying not to make it obvious that she didn’t welcome his touch. She swayed slightly and he reached out again. The pressure of both his hands on her bare arms sent a shiver rippling through her.
“Maybe the heat is getting to you,” he murmured. “I’ll grab you a bottle of water from the diner—”
“I can get it myself,” she said curtly, and then, more politely, “Thanks.”
Casson let go of her, gazed at her for what seemed longer than necessary, and then strode to his car. Afraid that he would turn around and see the conflicting emotions on her face, she fled into the office.
Mandy was preoccupied with a jam in the printer, and Justine was glad she had a few moments to compose herself.
She glanced out the window and watched Casson drive off, an ache blooming in her chest. Ronnie and Andy were only here for the weekend, but it sounded like they were going to have a great time with Casson.
“I’m not surprised he’s taken,” Mandy murmured. “But they’re not engaged; I didn’t notice any ring on her finger.” She came around from the printer to look at Justine thoughtfully. “Hey, girl, this is your day off. Get thee to a beach. I hear there’s a great one right here at Winter’s Haven. And after all you’ve been through you need some serious relaxation.”
Justine avoided looking directly at Mandy. The last thing she wanted was to show how emotional she felt, especially with some of the other cottagers now coming out of the diner.
Swept Away by the Enigmatic Tycoon Page 9
