by Lori Foster
"Yeah." Accepting that everything had changed – the past, his feelings, his motivations – Casey moved toward her. "Emma and I go way back." His attention shifted to Dell. Damn it, the man was too sick to deal with Casey's anger right now. He drew a breath and collected himself. "Hello, Mr. Clark."
Dell gripped the sheet with one gnarled hand while the other flailed before resting at his side. "Sneakin' 'round."
"Of course I wasn't." He reached Emma and looped his arm around her stiff shoulders. She didn't look at him and, if anything, her expression was more shuttered now that he touched her. "I just stepped in to check on Emma."
Emma ducked away from him. "Dr. Wagner, I'd like to speak to you privately."
"Yes, yes, of course." The good doctor looked stymied.
Casey nodded to him. "We'll wait outside until you finish your checkup with Dell."
"Use the waiting room. I'll come for you there." Emma shoved the door open and strode out. She'd only made it three steps when Casey caught her. His long fingers wrapped around her upper arm in a secure yet gentle hold. "Oh no you don't."
She whirled on him, equal parts furious, indignant and, if Casey didn't miss his bet, afraid. "You had no right."
Still holding her with one hand, Casey brushed the backs of his knuckles over her cheek with the other. "Now there's where you're wrong, sweetheart. You gave me the right eight years ago when you came to me. And this time, it won't be so easy for you to run off. This time you're going to tell me the truth." He touched the corner of her mouth. "You can count on it."
EMMA STRUGGLED to get enough air into her starved lungs, but the panic set in quickly. Nothing had really changed, she knew that now. Her reaction to Casey, his protective instincts, her smothering fear ... it was all still there. It had only taken one day back in Buckhorn to make it all resurface.
Just like his father and uncles, Casey had a soft spot for anyone in need. She hadn't wanted him to see her that way. Not this time. Not now. But given what he'd just overheard, she knew damn well he'd be doling out the pity again. God, she couldn't bear it.
She licked dry lips and cautiously tried to free her arm. He didn't let go.
"Why are you doing this, Casey?"
All his attention remained on her mouth, unnerving her further. "Doing what?"
She rolled her shoulder to indicate his hold. "This...overwhelming bombardment. You insist on coffee, insist on giving me a ride, insist you have to know everything even though it's none of your business. Why nose in where I don't want you?"
"Where is it you don't want me, sweetheart?"
Oh, that soft, coaxing voice. She couldn't let him do this to her. She'd come home because she had to, and all along she'd expected to see Casey again. This time, however, she'd wanted his respect. "What's between me and my father doesn't concern you."
Filled with conviction, Casey started to lead her into the waiting room.
"Casey!"
They both looked up to see the young nurse who'd accompanied the doctor into her father's room. She'd slipped out the door and she had her sights set on Casey. As she bore down on them with a proprietary air, Emma tried to retreat.
She heard Casey's annoyed sigh as he tugged her closer and draped his arm over her shoulders. Emma didn't know if he did it as a sign of support, or to make damn sure she couldn't slip away. Whatever his purpose, it didn't matter. She couldn't let it matter.
But being tucked that close to him shook her on every level. He was so hard, so tall and strong and masculine. Heat and a wonderful deep scent seemed a part of him, encompassing her and filling her up in places she'd forgotten were empty. With every pore of her being, she was aware of him. He was her living, breathing fantasy, and he kept touching her in that man/woman way, just as she used to dream of him doing.
Only the timing was all wrong now. Or she wasn't right for him – and never would be.
She had to get away.
The nurse halted in front of them, her smile bold, her posturing plain. Unlike Ann, who had been cordial, not by so much as a flicker of an eyelash did this woman acknowledge Emma. "Casey, I had such a nice time last weekend." She spoke with a heavy dose of suggestion. "I sort of expected you to call."
While Emma went stiff enough to crackle, Casey was loose and casual and relaxed, as if he didn't hold Emma prisoner at his side, forcing her through this awkward come-on.
"I've been busy." And then to Emma, "Lois and I were both at the same party last weekend."
Lois? Forgetting her own discomfort for a moment, Emma took in the bouncing brown hair and heavy hazel eyes. Recognition dawned. "Lois Banker?"
With an effort, Lois pulled her gaze from Casey. She lifted perfectly plucked eyebrows. "That's right. And you are...?"
Unbelievable, Emma thought in wonder. At least the maturity had shown on Ann. Her dark hair was shorter now, and there'd been a few laugh lines around her eyes. But Lois...she looked just as she had in high school. She was still pretty, perky, stacked.
She still had a thing for Casey.
Emma dredged up a smile even as she lifted her chin, preparing for the worst. "You don't remember me, but we went to school together." She held out a hand. "Emma Clark."
Lois scowled as she scrutinized Emma, and then slowly, with the jogging of her memory, her lip curled. "Emma Clark. Yes, I remember you." She shifted away from Emma's hand as if fearing contamination.
Emma found the petty attitude ridiculous, but not unexpected. Lois had never hid her dislike of her. But Casey pulled Emma a little closer and his fingers on her shoulder contracted, gently massaging her in a manner far too familiar. Of course, Lois made note of it, and her expression darkened even more.
Casey said, "Emma is back for a visit."
"A brief visit?"
You wish, Emma thought, and then was appalled at herself. Good God, she had no claim on Casey, and Lois certainly had no reason to be jealous of her. "Until my father is well."
Lois's eyes narrowed. "I hadn't made the connection." She glanced at Casey's hand on Emma. "Mr. Clark... He's the one who was drunk when he had a stroke, isn't he?"
Emma took the well-planned words like a punch on the chin. They dazed her. And they hurt.
"My father doesn't drink." Defensive and a little numb, Emma retreated. "Excuse me, please."
Casey released her as she pushed away. "Emma?" On wobbly legs, Emma wandered into the waiting room and headed for a plastic padded seat, praying she wouldn't embarrass herself by tearing up.
Why would Lois say her father had been drinking? Emma knew for a fact that he never touched alcohol. Like her, he'd made other choices.
In order to find answers, would she have to go see her mother, after all? Memories fell over her in a suffocating wave.
Then Lois's voice reached her, offering a much-needed distraction.
"Casey, what in the world are you doing with that nasty girl?"
In response to the slur, Casey became terse. "Nasty girl, Lois? Just what the hell does that mean?"
"Oh come on, Case." Lois's laugh of disbelief grated along Emma's nerves until she shivered. "She was the biggest slut around and everyone knows it. Besides, from what I've heard, you certainly had firsthand knowledge about—"
"Shut up."
Lois gasped, but otherwise remained silent. Emma squeezed her eyes shut. Firsthand knowledge? Is that what people thought, that Casey had given in to her relentless pursuit? What a laugh.
Then a worse theory occurred to Emma and she curled her arms around her stomach. Oh no. Surely no one had heard her outrageous claims of being pregnant. Her father wouldn't have told a soul, and Casey's family wasn't the type to gossip. Yet Lois had inferred something...
"You need to grow up, Lois, and learn some manners."
"I need to learn manners?" Her outrage was clear. "I'm not the one who slept with every guy in Buckhorn."
Casey snorted. "As I recall, not that many guys were asking."
"Casey!"
"See ya aro
und, Lois."
The sound of Lois's angry, retreating footfalls couldn't be missed. Emma sighed, aware of Casey's approach but unsure what she should say to him. Already she'd caused him problems, but he didn't want to hear her apologies, he'd been plain about that.
She felt steadier now, but still swamped in confusion. Her father didn't drink – never had – and she knew in her heart he never would. What had Lois meant by her comment?
Emma expected Casey to seat himself. Instead, he crouched down beside her. "Em?"
Startled, Emma stared at him.
With concern darkening his brown eyes, he said, "Hey. You okay?"
Casey came from a long line of caregivers. As a doctor, his father tended everyone from infants to the elderly. Being the town sheriff, Morgan set out to protect the innocent, and Jordan was the perfect vet with a voice that soothed and a manner that reassured. Even Gabe, the resident handyman, made a point of lending a helping hand to anyone who needed it.
She understood Casey's nature, but did he think she was made of fluff? "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Lois is a bitch."
Emma couldn't help but chuckle at that. "No, she's just hung up on you. She saw your arm around me and misunderstood."
"She understood." He put his rough palm on her knee with his long fingers curling around her. She hadn't realized the back of her knee could be so sensitive until Casey's fingertips brushed there. "I'm sorry she said what she did."
Trying to ignore his touch, Emma put her hand over his. "It's not the first time, Casey. If you go around alienating your friends over me, you're going to find yourself pretty lonely."
He ignored her warning to ask, "She's called you names before?" As he spoke, he clasped both her knees and Emma had the flashing thought of him pushing her legs open and settling between them. The image had an instantaneous effect on her body: her breath hitched, her belly tingled, her flesh heated. She didn't have the time or concentration for this.
In a rush, she shoved to her feet and stepped away. "Of course she did. Most of the boys from here – men now, I suppose – wanted to get me in bed and most of the girls hated me because of it."
Very slowly, Casey came to his feet. "She's jealous."
How ridiculous. "Hardly. Everyone always knew that I wanted you, but that you always turned me down."
Casey looked pained. "I'm sorry, Em."
"What did she mean when she said you had firsthand knowledge about me?"
He hesitated.
"Casey?"
With a shrug in his tone, he said, "For a while, people thought you ran off because of me." His eyes narrowed. "No one knew about that night, how your father brought you to me. No one knew that I asked you to stay – but you left anyway."
Startled, Emma could have sworn she heard resentment in his tone. But that didn't make any sense. "I'm glad that's all it is."
Sounding almost lethal, Casey repeated, "You're glad?"
He couldn't understand. "I didn't want you insulted, but I don't care what she says about me – I never have."
Casey watched her with brooding intensity. "I don't believe that."
The day had been too tumultuous for her to hold on to her temper. "And I don't care if you don't believe it. I made my choices and I've lived with them."
"Em..."
"I slept around. So what?" Bitterness that had simmered for years suddenly boiled over. "Just because I'm female it's a huge sin to enjoy sex, to enjoy being touched? How many females have you slept with, Casey?"
His jaw tightened.
"Ah. Should I take that blank expression to mean there are too many to count? What about Lois's reference to last weekend? Did you sleep with her then?"
"No."
She found that hard to believe and let him know it with a look. "But because you're male, that's just fine, right? Better than fine. What makes you a stud makes me a whore."
"Stop it, Em."
The furious rasp of his voice didn't register. "No one's ever talked about all the guys who bed hop, the guys who came to me. But a woman..."
"Stop it."
Emma went slack-jawed at his raised voice. Never in her life had she heard that particular tone from Casey. With her, he'd been cajoling, teasing, concerned, sometimes firmly insistent. Always gentle. But never outraged.
Of course, she'd known him only as a boy. Now he was a man.
She blinked at him, a little awed by the level of his anger. It showed in every taut, bunched line of his muscled body. His jaw was clenched, his hands curled into fists. Oh boy.
Emma pulled herself together. She hadn't intended to ever have this discussion with Casey, but since it had begun, she wished she'd chosen a better place than a hospital waiting room.
More in control of herself, and her voice lower now, Emma sighed. "Casey, I'm not ashamed of my past. At least, not that part of it." There were other things, things her family had done, things she'd covered up, the way she'd always pressured him, that still made her hot with regret. But not her sexuality. "I was young and healthy and I enjoyed sex. I still enjoy sex."
A low savage sound escaped him, similar to a snarl. He locked his hands behind his head and paced away.
His reaction stunned her. It almost looked as if he was restraining himself – and had a devil of a time doing so. "If you can't deal with that then you should head on home now. I'll find a ride back to the motel."
Casey turned and stalked to the waiting-room door. For one heart-stopping moment, Emma assumed he was going to storm out in a rage. He was leaving her and her heart hurt so badly she nearly doubled over with the crushing pain. She knew Casey would never love her, but she'd already started hoping that they could be friends.
Instead, he belatedly snapped the door shut to afford them some privacy. When he turned to face her, he still looked livid but he, too, had lowered his voice.
"I don't give a royal fuck how many boys you slept with, Emma."
Despite herself, his wording made her mouth fall open.
Very slowly, with intimidating deliberation, Casey stalked her. "But I do care that you were too young to be making those decisions."
Her chin lifted. "You're telling me you waited?"
"Apparently longer than you did." He pointed a finger at her. "And before you say it, before you assume that being in an all-male household gave me encouragement to screw any female who offered, you should know that I got a lot of lectures on responsibility. Dad, Morgan, Jordan – hell, even Gabe – they all endlessly harped on about ramifications. What might be meaningless sex to me could mean a whole lot more to a girl, especially if she got pregnant, or her folks found out. So, no, I didn't indiscriminately indulge in opportunities."
"And it bothers you that I didn't show that same restraint?" She kept her chin high, but the idea that he'd start judging her now hurt.
"What bothers me is that you did a hell of a lot of stuff because you were always lost and alone." His expression hardened, his jaw drew tight. "And I didn't do enough to help you."
"No—"
He gave her a warning look that made her swallow her automatic denial. "It's my turn, Emma, so you just be quiet and listen."
Emma snapped her mouth shut and began backing up as he kept advancing. Never had he looked so big, so imposing. So irritated with her.
She bumped into the wall and was annoyed with herself for retreating. She wasn't afraid of Casey. Out of all the things she'd ever felt for him, not once had fear ever been an issue.
Casey crowded into her, caging her in with his body. When she started to sidle away, he gripped her shoulders and held her firm. They stared at each other in silence until Emma gave up and held still.
"I care that you've been lying to me from the start."
"But..."
"I care that I let you get away."
Her eyes widened. Let her get away? Far as she knew, Casey hadn't wanted her to stay. Oh, he'd offered her help because Casey was the type of man who could do nothing else. But he'd made i
t clear many times that she didn't factor into his future. Well, this was his future, and just because she'd materialized didn't mean...
His hands kneaded her shoulders absently, while his gaze burned. "And you can bet your sweet ass I care that I've never had you." He leaned closer and his voice dropped to a guttural whisper. "I care about that a lot."
Her heart thundered, and her pulse went wild. Unable to maintain eye contact with him so close, Emma looked away. But Casey wasn't allowing that. He put a fist under her chin and brought her face back around, forcing her to meet his burning gaze. His eyes had narrowed with intent, starting a trembling deep inside her. "You quote double standards to me, but you wanna know what's really unfair?"
"No."
He pressed into her until she felt his hard flat abdomen against her belly. Oh God. Her whole body came alive, quivering with primal awareness.
"It's unfair for a gorgeous young woman to keep throwing herself at a guy until he can't sleep nights for wanting her too much. And then she runs off and no other woman will do because he has a taste for her – a goddamned hunger – yet, damn it, she's gone."
"Casey..." She gave the breathless complaint automatically. She couldn't allow herself to believe him. Always, he'd rejected her, wanting no more than friendship. Time apart couldn't have changed that.
His fingers tunneled into her hair, holding her head still. He lowered his forehead to hers and his eyes closed, his voice going rough and deep. "It's unfair because now that you're here again, all grown up and sexier than ever, you no longer want me."
She felt his warm breath on her lips, felt the heat of his frustration, his urgency, which sparked her own. Her body was melting into his, her nerve endings tingling and alive. Not want him? She was dying for him.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart," he murmured against her mouth, "but I don't intend to let you get away with it."
He said that so simply, sort of slipping it in there on her, it took a second for his statement to sink in. When his meaning dawned on her, Emma became alert with a start, only to have any thoughts of rejecting him quelled beneath a ravaging kiss. He didn't ease into the kiss. No, he took her mouth with ruthless domination.
