“Are you at the office? When can you get away?”
“I’m at the end of your driveway,” Justine said, and Casson detected a note of sheepishness in her voice. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Casson looked out the kitchen window and there she was, straddling her bike as she paused to phone him. He saw her putting her phone in her pocket and start to pedal toward the cottage.
His smile turned into a grin before he burst out laughing.
* * *
Casson was holding the door open for her. Justine smiled her thanks and started to walk by him, but Luna’s rush to the door stopped her in her tracks. She was penned in between Luna and Casson, who had now shut the door and was standing directly behind her.
“Hey, girl.” Justine bent to pat Luna and then immediately regretted it, when her backside brushed against Casson’s body. She straightened instantly, her face flaming, and was glad she couldn’t see Casson’s expression.
“Luna,—couch,” Casson’s amused voice drawled behind her, and Luna gave a plaintive howl but proceeded to obey.
Justine wiped her brow with her forearm. The humidity outside was high, but it was stifling in the cottage. She wished she could just strip off her clothes and remain in her bikini, like she did in her own house.
She glanced at him edgewise as he set the table. If he’d looked gorgeous in a black T-shirt, he looked magnificent in the white one he was wearing now. It emphasized his broad shoulders, and the firm contours of his chest and stomach. And his khaki shorts fit him oh, so well...
Justine couldn’t help thinking that he looked like a hunky model out of a magazine.
Casson put a bottle of white wine in the fridge and then set the platter of cheese and crackers on the table.
“I suppose I should have thought of bringing something a little cooler,” Justine said as Casson filled two bowls with soup, “but I thought if Andy was sick chicken soup would do him good.”
“Your intentions were honorable,” Casson said, and smiled, “and that’s what counts.”
Justine felt her insides quiver as she met his warm gaze.
They ate in silence for a few minutes and then Casson suddenly rose from his chair. “What am I thinking?” His eyes glinted. “There’s cheese, but no wine on the table. Forgive me, my lady.”
He gave a mock bow. A spiral of pleasure danced through Justine’s body at his words. If only he knew how much she wanted to be his lady.
He poured white wine into two glasses and offered her one. “Let’s toast our little Andy’s health.”
They clinked glasses and Justine’s gaze locked with Casson’s as she tasted the wine—a Pinot Grigio from Niagara-on-the-Lake. With its peachy bouquet and hint of vanilla, it complemented the Oka and the other cheeses Casson had selected.
“Let’s take it down to the beach,” he said suddenly, when they had each finished their first glass. “It’s too hot in the cottage. I’ll bring the wine and the glasses, and you can bring the cheese tray.” He laughed. “Luna can bring herself.”
Justine couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Earlier she had decided to show Casson that she was interested. Now here she was, following this gorgeous man to a private beach where they would be sharing wine and cheese on the most sultry night of the summer.
She shivered in anticipation, the wine in her system already starting to loosen her up.
They sat side by side in the Muskoka chairs, nibbling on cheese and crackers and cooling themselves with wine. There was no breeze whatsoever, and the surface of the bay was mirror-still. In minutes it would be dusk, and Justine’s pulse quickened at the thought of being with Casson in the darkness.
The sky was a magnificent palette in the twilight, with streaks of vermillion, orange, magenta and gold. She turned to Casson, exclaiming at the beauty of it, and met his intense gaze.
He held out his glass. “Here’s to another beauty,” he said huskily, and leaned over so that his face was close to hers.
Their glasses clinked but neither of them drank. Casson moved closer, and with a pulsating in her chest that spread down her body Justine felt herself tilting her face so his lips could meet hers. When they made contact, ever so lightly, Justine closed her eyes with the wonder of it. And when Casson’s lips pressed against hers, and then moved over her bottom lip, she thought her limbs would melt.
She let out a small gasp, giving Casson the opportunity to deepen the kiss. She was sure her heart would explode as she reciprocated, tasting the wine on his tongue.
Justine lost all sense of time and space, and when he finally released her the glorious colors of the sky had faded to dusky gray and indigo. He took her hand and helped her stand up. Pulling her to him, he lifted his hands to cup the back of her head and kissed her again.
Justine wrapped her arms around his waist, then slid them up his back and around his neck. She trembled when his hands began their descent down her back and around her waist, before finding the edge of her cotton top. And then his hands were on her bare waist, searing her already heated skin.
“Let’s go for a dip,” he said, his breath ragged.
He pulled off his shirt and tossed it on a chair. He left his khaki shorts on. She let him help her pull off her top and shorts, and was thrilled at the way his eyes blazed when his fingers brushed against her bikini top and bottom.
Somewhere in the distance a loon gave its haunting call, and as they splashed their way into the still but bracingly cold depths of the bay, with Luna following, Justine felt freer than she had ever felt in her life.
After the initial shock of the water on their heated skin they automatically came together. The water was up to Justine’s chest. Justine tilted her head back as Casson’s lips traced a path up her neck to her mouth. He pulled her in even closer, and their bodies fit together in a way that sent a series of jolts through her.
As Casson’s hands began to wander over the thin material of her bikini Justine gasped in pleasure at the sensation under water. She let her hands wander as well, sliding over the firm expanse of his back, exploring his contours. She kissed the base of his neck and his mouth, giving in to the desires that had been simmering within her and needing release for days.
* * *
Casson was in another world, with Justine pressed against him in the water, his senses filled with the sight and feel of her. He wanted to stroke every part of her with his hands and his lips, to make her gasp with pleasure. She looked like a sea nymph, with those smoldering blue eyes and silky skin. She was looking up at him now, their bodies locked together, their arms encircling each other.
The dark sky was suddenly lit up with a flash of lightning and the effect was surreal, the light reflecting in each other’s eyes.
Luna started barking. She had already dashed out of the water after a quick dip, and had been waiting for them on the beach, but now she was running about in a panic from the electricity in the air. When the rolls of thunder followed she started yelping even more, and ran frantically in and out of the water.
The rain started seconds later.
Casson took Justine’s hand, and by the time they got out of the water and onto the beach the rain was pelting down on them. It was warm rain, but heavy, falling down in sheets. They quickly gathered their clothes, and the items they had left by the Muskoka chairs and table, and dashed to the cottage.
Once inside, they stood in the entrance, the rain dripping off their bodies onto the linoleum floor.
“Luna—stay.” Casson patted her, trying to calm her. “Lie down, girl.”
He turned to Justine and his heart thumped at the sight of her standing there, barefoot in her bikini, her drenched hair clinging to her cheeks, her dusky blue eyes wide and fluttering, her eyelashes beaded with raindrops. Despite the warmth inside the cottage, she had started to shiver.
He put his hands on her shoul
ders. “Don’t move,” he murmured. “I’m going to grab some towels.”
He leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. He had to tear himself away then, before his prehistoric instincts took over and he picked her up, dripping and all, and carried her straight into his man cave.
He brought back three bath towels. He placed one over Justine’s shoulders and set one aside while he ran the third towel over Luna and wiped the beach sand from her paws.
“Okay, Luna, go on your mat.”
He turned to Justine. She was towel-drying her hair. Gently he took the towel out of her hands and continued to pat her hair dry. Then he proceeded to dry her neck, her shoulders and back, before moving to the front of her body. He held her gaze with his as he patted her chest and moved downward. By the time he reached her thighs and calves he could feel shivers running through him—although he suspected it had nothing to do with being cold.
“Here...” Justine took the towel from him and hung it on a hook behind the door. She reached for the remaining dry towel and wrapped it around his head. “My turn.” She smiled shyly and started drying his hair. And then she followed his lead, slowly patting him dry, lingering in some areas more than others...
She made him catch his breath, and her eyes seemed to flash in delight at his reaction to her touch. When she was done they stood there, staring into each other’s eyes, and he suddenly knew, without a doubt, that Justine had completely snagged him.
Hook, line and sinker.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JUSTINE PRACTICALLY JUMPED into Casson’s arms at the next crack of thunder. Luna gave a howl and started to tear around the cottage, panting and giving low growls.
“You can’t go home in this weather,” Casson said, drawing Justine closer.
“You could drive me,” she murmured, sounding unconvincing even to herself.
“I couldn’t leave Luna alone; she’d be terrified,” Casson said, sounding relieved that he had come up with an excuse. “You can have my room. I’ll sleep on the couch. Luna will want me near her tonight.”
Justine stopped herself from blurting out, So will I.
She took a deep breath. Things were spinning away too fast for her. She was spinning. She needed some space, some distance to make sense of what was happening between her and Casson. And spending the night in the same cottage with him, even if they were in separate rooms, would provide her with neither enough space nor distance.
“You should get out of your wet bikini,” Casson said “I’ll go get you some of my clothes.” He chuckled. “I’ll see what I can find in your size.”
While he went to his room Justine went to comfort Luna. It felt so strange, walking around barefoot in a bikini here. Her stomach fluttered with the prospect of sleeping in Casson’s bed. Could she trust him to stay on the couch?
Could she trust herself...?
Casson came out of the bedroom with a navy T-shirt. “This will have to do,” he said, and held it out to Justine. “You can change in here.”
Justine felt herself flushing. The T-shirt was large, and would probably reach her knees. But she wouldn’t be wearing anything underneath. And of course it wouldn’t cross Casson’s mind to offer her a pair of his shorts.
She took the T-shirt from him and went into his room, shutting the door firmly behind her. She took deep breaths to slow down the beating of her heart. Scanning the room, she wasn’t surprised to see how neat and orderly it was. Bed made, clothes hung up in the partially open wardrobe, and a suitcase in one corner of the room. Her eyes fell on the open laptop on the desk, and she saw the brown envelope he had brought out earlier.
She walked over to the bed and set the T-shirt on it while she took off her bikini. She caught sight of herself in the dresser mirror and felt her pulse leaping at the thought of Casson seeing her this way. She shivered and slipped the T-shirt on. It came to just above her knees, and it was baggy, but at least it was dry.
She still felt vulnerable, though, and had the crazy thought of searching through the drawers in the night table for a pair of his underwear. She sat on the bed, considering it, and saw a bottle of Casson’s cologne on the night table.
Unable to resist, she picked it up. She uncapped it and inhaled the scent she had come to recognize: a blend of bamboo, pine and musk. An expensive Italian brand she had seen advertised in magazines.
A sudden thumping noise at the bedroom door startled her, and she fumbled with the bottle. She caught it before it could fall and break on the plank floor, but in grabbing it she accidentally sprayed herself.
Cursing inwardly, she set the bottle back on the night table. Explain that to Casson...
“Luna, get away from that door,” she heard Casson say, chuckling. “Your friend is coming out any minute.”
When Justine opened the door she saw Casson’s eyes scanning over her appreciatively. He walked toward her and stopped, his nose wrinkling.
Justine smiled sheepishly. “Accident,” she murmured, shrugging.
He leaned over and sniffed deeply, his nose and lips grazing her neck. She couldn’t help shivering as he released his breath, and the sensation on her skin made her heart begin to pound.
“I guess I won’t have to put any cologne on, then,” he said huskily. “I’ll go and change, too.” He gazed at the bikini top and bottom in her hand, and then back at her. “You can hang those and your other clothes in the washroom.”
When Justine returned to the living room she sat on the edge of the couch, her stomach in knots as she waited for Casson to come. She would tell him she was exhausted and would be going to bed right away, she decided.
A moment later he emerged, wearing blue-striped pajama bottoms and a beige T-shirt, holding a pillow in one hand and a change of clothes in the other. Justine’s heart flipped. She stood up, knowing she’d better get to his room before...before her resolve started to weaken.
“I’m beat,” she said. “I’ll say goodnight.”
She gave him a half-smile and quickly averted her gaze. She patted Luna, then gingerly stepped past Casson. To her relief he didn’t stop her, and as she closed the bedroom door with a click she let out her breath.
She left the wooden shutters in his room partially open, so the morning light would wake her, and then turned off the light switch. As she slipped into bed she began to have second doubts.
Was she crazy? Passing up an opportunity to spend the night with Casson in this bed?
He would be beside her right now had she given him the slightest indication of wanting that.
Justine bit her lip. She had come to his cottage with the intention of showing him that she was interested and seeing if he felt the same. Well, she had no doubts that he was interested in her body—neither of them could deny the chemistry between them. But she wanted—no, needed—more than that. She needed to know that Casson Forrester wanted her heart and soul as well. When she knew that for sure, then she would be his.
She snuggled under the covers, savoring the feeling of intimacy in just lying on the sheet Casson slept on. She breathed in his scent on the pillow, and let it and the rhythm of the rain, and the muted grumbling of thunder, soothe her to sleep.
* * *
Casson stared at the door for a few moments after Justine had closed it. Tonight was going to be sweet torture, lying on the couch. How could he possibly sleep, knowing that Justine was only steps away? Especially after the intimacy they had shared?
He groaned softly and, turning off the kitchen light, made his way to the couch. He plunked down his pillow and stretched out. It was too humid in the cottage to cover up. And too hot for pajamas. He pulled them off impatiently, leaving his boxers on. With any luck he’d get a breeze coming through the screened-in windows during the night.
Good luck falling asleep.
Casson felt so frustrated. And deflated. Justine had relayed her intentions
loud and clear after he had given her his T-shirt. I’m beat. I’ll say goodnight. He couldn’t deny it: if he had seen even a spark in Justine’s eye to invite him to follow her into the bedroom he wouldn’t have thought twice. But she had deliberately avoided looking at him.
Although he had seen her blue eyes darken with desire in the bay, and when they were drying each other, something had caused Justine to pull back. Could she still have feelings for Robert? No! He didn’t want to believe that. His jaw tensed. Or maybe Justine’s suspicions about his intentions had resurfaced, making her keep any attraction she felt for him in check, especially after her experience with Robert. Maybe she believed he was using her, trying to use sex to influence her decision not to sell.
She didn’t trust him.
Casson felt as if someone had kicked him in the gut. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly. He wanted Justine to trust him, to believe that he wasn’t using her.
But how could he convince her of that? Convince her that it wasn’t just her body he had fallen in love with, but her gentle spirit?
Yes, he thought in wonder, he had fallen in love with her.
She was kind and considerate...making soup for a little boy she hardly knew. And it wasn’t because she had some ulterior motive to get Casson to like her. No, it was simply a thoughtful and sensitive gesture. And she was kind to Luna. Casson had seen a flash of real sorrow in her eyes when he’d told her about how Luna had been abandoned and left at the side of the road. And what about her concern that Robert would be ruined if they’d called the police? It was only because of her that Casson hadn’t gone down that route. He would have been much harder on Robert. And he really hadn’t expected Justine to demonstrate that kind of compassion after Robert’s behavior.
But Justine was soft. Softer. And that was what he loved about her. She had a gentleness and a generosity that his previous dates had lacked. He might have been too focused on building his business to spend time searching for the right person in his life, but now Casson realized that a search was not necessary.
Swept Away by the Enigmatic Tycoon Page 13
