Standing in the morning sun on her driveway with one of the most attractive men she'd ever seen in her life, was more than she knew how to handle. She wanted to run and bolt the door and remain hidden until life as she knew it resumed.
"Well, I guess I'll just go inside then. Nice to see you, Mr. Grand."
She should have invited him in, but in all honesty, despite the wicked thoughts her mind was freely inventing, she was who she was and that was an old, shy, insecure woman who in no way could handle herself with a man like this.
She gave him a shaky smile and turned quickly, hoping to be inside with the door bolted before he figured out she'd even left.
Of course, that didn't happen. In fact, he beat her to the door at the end of her tiny porch and held his hand out.
"I'll either take the bag or the keys. Your choice."
"I ... oh, hell.” She shoved the bag at him and opened her door, surrender was all she had the energy left for anyway. She considered for a second standing in the doorway and demanding the bag back. However, she was too tired for games she hadn't a chance of winning, so she walked in, pointing in the general direction of the kitchen, if he wanted to push his way inside, he could make himself useful.
As she was removing her jacket and laying her purse on the table by the door, she said, sounding much calmer than she felt, “Kitchen's that way. Please put the freezerables away, thanks."
She let him go and moved into the living room. Space was a good thing, she hoped she'd regain her common sense by the time he got through. She had no idea what came over her. Her entire world felt topsy turvy and now she was acting like a prima donna. Maybe she just wanted to annoy him so he'd leave. Of course there was still that insidious other part of her mind that wanted him to get naked, but she was trying to ignore that part. Fantasy was fantasy. Life was life. Never the two shall meet.
* * * *
Aiden had no idea what had come over him. This was very like the boy who'd grown up in Italy feeling insecure and out of place. The boy who knew he wasn't good enough simply by way of his birth. It wasn't the man he'd become since. For one thing, he didn't do nerves. He also didn't just drop in on women he barely knew, and he didn't put away groceries.
He shoved several Lean Cuisine meals for one inside the small freezer, thinking that apparently today, he did.
He not only put away her frozen items, but he went ahead and put the juice in her fridge and the oranges in a fruit bowl on the small kitchen table. Maybe he was simply buying himself time, hoping his smoother façade would resurface before he had to face her again. He felt a bit more at ease as he looked around her very sunny kitchen and liked what he saw. It was small. There was no getting around that. The stove must have been fifty years old, but the room was clean and cheery. The stucco walls were painted pale yellow with white trim; she had a vase of multi-colored daisies on the counter and the bowl of fruit on her kitchen table. Large windows looked out over the hillside the bungalow perched on, overlooking the ocean in the distance. There were no curtains or blinds. She must love the sunshine.
He frowned when he saw only one chair at the table. The thought occurred to him that maybe she was as lonely as he was. Lonely was not something he liked to think about or admit to, but it was fact, he was lonely. He lived a life of being accepted on the surface, yet not really fitting in anywhere and it was getting old.
That brought back the memory of the conversation he had with his father's wife two mornings before. Apparently she had decided to find him a wife. He shuddered at the thought. Eventually he knew he would have to accept his fate and marry some woman his family would approve of, but not today. Lonely was a far better option for the time being.
When he ventured back into the living room, still not sure what his intentions were, he rethought his idea of her being lonely. At the moment, however, she certainly didn't appear lonely. A small white mop of a dog was enthusiastically licking her entire face while she giggled with pure delight.
She'd taken off her jacket and undone that ridiculous bow, kicked off her shoes again and this time her hose, as well. His attention caught on her bare feet as she sat on the floor. A pure punch of lust assaulted his gut and cock simultaneously. He envisioned a very naked Cassidy laying on his deep red, satin sheets as he lay at her feet, sucking each toe until he drove them both to the brink of ecstasy.
His equilibrium took a hit. Her face covered in dog drool should have by all rights disgusted him, but somehow he couldn't find that emotion. He looked from her bare feet to her face and wondered if he could take over the licking action for a while. Then before he could make this situation any worse, he badly blurted out, “Miss Flint, I was wondering if I could take you to breakfast."
She blinked up at him, as if she'd forgotten he was there. After a moment, she picked up the little dog and stood beside her blue floral sofa looking at him as if he'd spoken in another language.
"Excuse me?"
He swallowed hard, ran his hand over the back of his neck again, then locked eyes with her.
"Breakfast. I'd thought it better than dinner, with you working overnight and all. I wasn't sure of your sleep schedule, and I..."
"Mr. Grand, are you here to fire me?"
He did a quick double take, his mind quickly going back through everything that had happened since they'd met and felt like an idiot.
"No, of course not, Cassidy. Garrison has told me nothing but wonderful things about you. He finds you incredibly dependable and no one is going to blame you for getting bored in the middle of the night when you must have known you had no check-ins."
She seemed to roll that over in her mind, then looked up at him again, brow furrowed.
"Then why on earth are you here and why would you want to take me out to breakfast?"
She caught him off guard again, was he really being that vague?
"Because I thought we might enjoy one another's company."
She stared at him for so long, he felt like fidgeting. The she quietly asked, “Mr. Grand, are you insane?"
He laughed. Her voice was shy and uncertain and she looked shocked and appalled by his invitation. He supposed that should have offended his sensibilities, but this woman intrigued him in a way he hadn't felt before. From the second he'd met her that morning she naturally charmed and bewitched him. Even in the moments she'd obviously felt out of her depth and awkward, he still felt drawn towards her.
Perhaps it was just he knew that same feeling himself and wasn't fond of it. Maybe he wanted to be her white knight and protect the fair maiden from anything that would bring her discomfort. It was silly, but it was how he felt, and he had to admit, he liked it and he liked her. Now, in her own environment, surrounded by her own things, he liked her even more.
"No, Miss. Flint, I am not insane. Sanity tends to run in my family. Though I do see your point. I am acting rather out of character today."
She furrowed her brow, narrowing her eyes at him. It was more a look of bewilderment than hostility, almost as if she'd never before seen a man. She was absolutely adorable and he wanted nothing more than to pull her body against his and never let her go.
"I really don't think you do. My point was exactly this, I am a middle-aged woman with mousy brown hair, lackluster brown eyes, thirty extra pounds, and the only bed partner I've had in thirteen years has been my dog, Harold."
He held back his laughter, knowing it would only feed her insecurity, but he saw a very different picture. He saw a woman with a lush and curvy body that he wanted to put his hands and mouth all over. He saw a woman with chestnut hair streaked with natural golden highlights. He saw curls his fingers continuously reached for. He saw a mouth full and soft that he wanted to devour. He saw naturally large breasts that he knew would be soft beneath his kisses. What he saw was a real woman who was naturally beautiful and so unaware of that fact, need burned in his veins to make her see herself as he did.
He wanted to find the man who'd broken her heart and made her doubt he
r beauty and beat him senseless. Most of all, he wanted to love her, body and soul and make her believe him when he told her she was stunning and sexy and everything a man could want from his woman.
"Miss Flint.” He took a step forward, aching to touch her, but holding himself back. “May I call you Cassidy?"
"I suppose."
This time her tone declared loud and clear she didn't trust him. He let out a long breath, determined to do what he'd set out to. “Cassidy, I'm in town for three weeks while I shore up the deal to buy that land on the other side of the hotel. I—"
"Really?” Her eyes lit up in such a way that made a man want to promise the world for a chance to see it again. “Why?"
He shook his head again, this woman kept him off balance. He wasn't used to feeling that way anymore. It was going to be a full time job just keeping up with her.
"Because we're going to build some honeymoon cottages and a wedding garden. The wedding business is huge and some of our other hotels have ... Cassidy, may I continue with what I was originally saying?"
"Oh. Of course."
She shifted Harold, and he tried once again to lick her face. She held him back, giving him all her attention. Good God, she makes me nervous. He thought about the pedigreed poodles his father's wife would be trotting out before him. Women just like his half brothers’ wives. The thought didn't set well at all. His gaze softened on Cassidy. His family would eat her alive, but he could enjoy her for the time he was here and still free. He could bring her such pleasure. His determination to see this through prodded him on.
"I thought, well I guess, rather, I'd hoped...” He released a frustrated breath and laid all his cards out on the table. “Cassidy, would you keep me company while I'm here?"
* * * *
Cassidy thought maybe he ought to check into that family history a bit better because he was definitely showing some signs of instability. She narrowed her eyes at him. She felt vulnerable and she hated that feeling. It made her unreasonable and hostile. At the same time, she found herself wondering exactly what he meant by company and if she really cared or not. Part of her wanted for once in her life to be free. To say yes and not care what the question was. To let all the passion of her erotic nature loose and not worry what the consequences of that might be.
She didn't answer him.
She couldn't.
Not yet.
Overloaded and overwhelmed, she turned and walked down the small hallway sandwiched between the kitchen and the staircase toward the back garden and placed Harold outside, locking the doggie door. It bought her some time and took care of the distraction her precious puppy made. When she came back she found Aiden with his back to her, his hand running the length of the fireplace mantle. The oddly sensual movement made her shiver.
This was the strangest thing she'd ever had happen to her and she had no frame of reference for it. What was she supposed to say to that?
Yes, please, ravish me for three weeks then leave me behind like last week's garbage?
She nibbled on her lower lip, ravishing does sound good though.
Who was she kidding, it sounded beyond belief, but she wasn't brave enough to say yes. She shook her hands out to her sides hoping the maneuver would shake off the unwanted tension she felt. Maybe it was her own sanity she should be questioning, no woman in her right mind would say no to that man, yet she was about to. It made her sad, because if she said no to him, who would she ever say yes to?
All of a sudden her life looked terribly lonely and bleak.
She walked the rest of the way into the room clearing her throat as a warning she was back.
"What, exactly, did you mean by company?"
For a while, he just stood there looking at her. It gave her time to really look at him and see if she really thought he was as good looking as she had originally. Sadly, as she noticed his little imperfections this time, like the tiny scar above his right brow and the slight wrinkles around his eyes, he only seemed more attractive. His body wasn't half bad either, and thinking of what it might look like unclothed was making her salivate.
What is wrong with you?
This was the other reason she hadn't dated—she'd never felt this before, and all the uncomfortable, embarrassing moments of a first date had never felt worth it. Maybe they were now and maybe, knowing it was only for three weeks, would make it not seem so daunting. She'd know going in there was no future in it, no promises. Three weeks of what she assumed would be amazing sex ... of course, how amazing could it be? She'd still be a part of the equation.
She folded her arms across her chest as some sort of defense in case he laughed at her or said he simply needed someone to talk hotel shop with. Of course, why he'd pick her for that was beyond her, but why he'd pick her for anything, quite frankly she couldn't figure. She tried to push that thought away. Every time she was close to letting her walls down, to stepping out from behind a lifetime of self doubt and insecurity, it all came back and swamped her. She was in a prison of her own making and couldn't find the right key to get out.
He closed the distance between them, a half smile on his face, and a look in his eyes she'd never seen directed at her before but recognized with certainty, it was lust. She trembled in anticipation of his touch at the same time wondered if he even would. This was a man, not a boy like Charlie had been, could she handle him?
Conflicting emotions and the deepest desires of her heart warred with memories of her past. Her history was what she knew to be true, but then she looked into his eyes, heated with obvious attraction for her, and it made her question everything. It made no sense in the safe little world she'd built around herself. She wanted to shove him out the door, leaving her alone, but safe, but she couldn't do it. Somewhere deep inside, he'd lit a spark and she wanted to see if that spark could grow into something real that would free her once and for all from the prison she'd gladly walked into on the day she said “I do".
While she tried communicating all her thoughts to him without words she knew she'd never find, he brought his hand up. His fingers brushed her cheek and sent a shiver snaking over her skin. She drew a sharp breath, surprised by the sparks his soft touch ignited. He only smiled as if he'd known all along they'd be there.
He took a step closer, engulfing her in his heat, his scent, his essence. She found it hard to breathe, felt herself wanting things she knew better than to want. When his hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing over her bottom lip, she let instinct take over and she slowly ran her tongue along the tip in a maneuver that made her feel like a real woman. Heat flared in his eyes a second before he brought his mouth down on hers and life as she knew it ended.
His one arm snaked around her waist, pulling her body to his. His other hand wound in her hair, leaving her no choice but to comply.
Aiden barely pressed their lips together when she felt her knees give out. He tightened his arm around her, pulling her body seamlessly against his. Slowly, he sucked her bottom lip between his, the pleasurable sensations making her mindlessly whimper. With one hand, he caressed the back of her head, while the other ran the length of her spine. Then, just the hint of tongue pressed against hers, she knew with certainty now what butterflies felt like as a million of the tiny winged creatures took flight inside her.
He pulled back without deepening the kiss any further. Cassidy wasn't sure if she was relieved or upset by that, but he physically didn't move. He continued to supply heat and frissons to her needy body as they stood together. Hand cupping her cheek, he pressed his lips to the bridge of her nose. As he rested his forehead against hers, his deep blue gaze and his scent invaded all of her awareness until she knew her surrender was imminent.
"In my bed. That's what I meant by company, Cassidy."
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Chapter Two
Cassidy's heart raced even at the thought. She wasn't entirely over that kiss and certainly was in no shape to rationally discuss his suggestion. “Are you sure you're not ado
pted?"
She swore she saw him wince before he smiled that time. That smile was lethal and didn't help her recover her equilibrium any. She wished he'd stop it.
"No, I'm not adopted. Why?"
She had to push herself out of his arms, because intelligent thought would not return for as long as she let him touch her. Unfortunately, being out of his arms didn't help nearly as much as she'd hoped. She fleetingly wondered if it was too late to get back in them without looking emotionally disturbed. “Because it's either that or the sanity gene you're so proud of skipped you.” She turned back and locked gazes with him. “Do you know how old I am?"
He shrugged, as if it didn't matter. Well, to her it did. She took two steps closer, challenging him. She couldn't help herself, it was a reflex.
"I'm forty-three,” He didn't even bat an eye. “That's more than forty."
"Yes. I did actually do quite well in math. And I'm thirty-five, so long as we're declaring ourselves."
She slapped a hand to her forehead. Thirty-five? That pulled her up short, giving her a whole new line of concerns to start pondering. She turned away, looking out the bay window. Maybe if she couldn't see him, the dizzying effect he seemed to have on her would lessen.
"That makes you nearly ten years younger than me."
"I see you also did well in math."
She couldn't miss the humor in his tone, though sadly she saw nothing humorous about this. Things like this didn't happen to her. She was marginally certain they didn't happen to most people. She began to feel faint and sank to the sofa, dropping her head into her hands. The speed with which he came alongside her, though gallant, merely increased the sensation. His fingers came beneath her chin, tilting her head so as to force her to look at him.
"Cassidy, you are a vibrant, beautiful, sexy woman regardless of age, and if it makes you feel any better, I almost always date older women. I can't stand juvenile behavior and insecurities. I was dating thirty-year-old women when I was fifteen."
The Seduction of Cassidy Flint Page 2