“Cole, do you have a minute?” she repeated, amusement threading through her voice.
“I suppose,” he said uneasily. “Is there a problem with Jake?”
“No. He’s fine. He’s spending the night with my mother. He won’t be back till after lunchtime tomorrow.”
Uh-oh, he thought. They were alone. She was in his room, not her own, and she was wearing that sexy scent again, the one that made his pulse pound.
“The house?” he asked, sounding a little desperate even to his own ears. He cleared his throat. “Is there a problem with the house? I, um, I could call the contractor.” He reached for the phone, clung to it as if it were a lifeline.
She smiled. “Nope. It’s coming along right on schedule.”
That left what? he wondered, battling panic as he reluctantly set the phone aside. What the dickens did she want? Besides him, of course. Oh, she definitely wanted him, he concluded, meeting her gaze and discovering the heat there.
“Then what’s on your mind?” he asked, resigned to a really tough test of his willpower.
She edged closer, sat on the corner of his desk, her gaze locked with his, her very bare thigh nudging his. Even through his own jeans, he could feel the temperature of her skin soar. His body reacted predictably with a rush of blood straight to his groin.
This was a dangerous game she was playing. He wondered if she realized it. One glance into her smoldering eyes answered that. She knew, all right. And she was enjoying every single second of making him sweat, of watching him struggle with himself to do the right thing. She was deliberately trying to blast his conscience right out of the water.
“Cassie?” he prodded, a hitch in his voice.
A purely female smile came and went. “I’m not making you nervous, am I?”
Nervous? Hell, no. He was coming unglued. He was about to go up in flames.
“This…” He cleared his throat yet again. “This isn’t wise.”
He sounded like a cranky, sixty-year-old prude. Evidently she thought so, too, because she chuckled, a low, throaty sound that danced down his spine like a flame.
“Really? Why not?”
“Do I really have to explain it?”
She regarded him thoughtfully for a second, then nodded. “Yes, I think you do.”
“Because we have issues,” he began, then all but groaned. Not a sixty-year-old prude. Maybe ninety—and a stiff-necked psychiatrist to boot.
She nodded, acknowledging what he said, but she didn’t look swayed. Nor did she budge one millimeter away from his thigh.
“Care to talk about them?” she asked, her tone only mildly curious.
Now there was a loaded question, if ever he’d heard one. If he said yes, he would be opening up the whole blasted can of worms he’d been trying so hard to ignore. If he said no, he was pretty sure she had some other way for them to spend the time.
He swallowed hard, cleared his throat, then shrugged. “What’s the point?” he asked, proud of himself for coming up with a third option, an evasion that might annoy her enough to convince her to leave.
“Oh, I don’t know. It might clear the air,” she said, sounding amused perhaps, but definitely not annoyed.
He, however, was getting downright irritable. Her attitude was exasperating. Her proximity was arousing. The conflicting messages were roaring around in his head…and elsewhere.
“It. Would. Not. Clear. The. Air.” He bit the words out from between clenched teeth.
She swung her legs, deliberately letting her calf brush his. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, her expression serious, even thoughtful. “We won’t know unless we try.”
He narrowed his gaze and studied her. “Is that what you really want?” he asked skeptically. “A nice, polite discussion, a chance to make a few excuses, maybe even some promises?”
A spark of anger flashed in her eyes, and he thought for a second she might really explode, tell him to take his sarcasm and shove it. Instead, she leaned over until her gaze was level with his, until he could feel the soft whisper of her breath against his cheek. His heart raced.
“No,” she said in that same quiet, intense tone. “This is what I want.”
Before he could even catch his breath, her mouth was on his, sweet and urgent and hot. Her tongue skimmed his lips, then slid inside, tangling with his. And Cole was pretty sure his entire body was going to go up in flames.
For one tiny, fleeting second, he considered a protest, ordered himself to utter it, in fact, but the moment passed in a frenzy of need. This was what he’d missed, this was what he and Cassie could be together if only he could let go of his anger and his stiff-necked pride. All it would take was the little matter of forgiving her, of letting go of the past. Right now he was too caught up in the moment to give a hang about anything, the past included.
He groaned and claimed her, deepening the kiss, blanking out all of the arguments against what was happening and seizing the pulse-pounding moment.
She slid into his lap, all willing and eager and hot as a winter fire, just the way he remembered. When he would have moved beyond the devastating kisses for more, she held him still, savoring the mating of their mouths, discovering the amazing nuances possible in a kiss.
His hand drifted to her thigh, skimmed along warm, supple skin until he reached the core of her heat. He hesitated there, knowing that they were crossing the point of no return. If he touched her intimately, if she let him, there would be no going back. He would have to bury himself inside her. He would have to discover if reality matched fantasy, if the present could equal the memory. He would have to rediscover every texture, every taste, every throbbing response. He would have to make her his.
And he would be hers. Forever. Without denials or recriminations or regrets. Forgiveness might be a struggle for some time to come, but this, this would be a given, a habit too hard to break for a second time in his life.
He sighed and held still, waiting for the panic to wash through him, waiting for the anger to resurface and destroy desire. He waited and waited, but it didn’t happen.
Instead, anticipation built…along with soul-wrenching need and astonishing heat.
And then she smoothed her hand across his brow as if to wipe away the worry, the distress that had kept him—kept them—from moving on. He was lost, caught up in the magical spell of her touch, in the powerful pull of her tenderness.
“I want you,” he admitted at long last. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“I think I do,” she soothed, beginning to work the buttons of his shirt.
Her knuckles skimmed lightly across his chest, and then her mouth was there, clever and damp and eager. Her touch turned the wanting to a persistent ache.
Cole thought he might finally understand what it was like to be ravished, to be taken completely and not have the will to fight it, just to go along for the astonishing ride. He was on sensory overload, climbing to a peak that he had no intention of reaching alone.
He reached for Cassie’s hands, stilled them, then shifted to evade her lips. “Enough,” he commanded, his voice ragged.
Startled smoky eyes met his.
“I am not making love with my wife for the first time since the wedding in an uncomfortable, straight-backed chair,” he said, scooping her into his arms and standing up.
He carried her to the bed in the next room. There were a dozen times along the way when he could have allowed sane, sensible thoughts to crowd in and end this, but he ignored everything but the feel of the woman in his arms, the need pounding through his veins.
Tomorrow would take care of itself, he told himself. Tonight was about him and the woman whose memory had burned in his heart for years. If it was all they ever had, he told himself that tonight would be enough.
Cassie hadn’t been nearly as sure of herself as she’d wanted Cole to believe. There had been moments, more than she could count, when she’d wanted to dash from his room rather than risk the rejection she feared was co
ming. Only grim determination and the terror that this might be her one and only chance had kept her there when he’d made it plain he wanted her to go.
Now, as he held her in his arms, as he made steady, deliberate progress toward his bed, she began to allow hope to flare along with desire. Surely this would be the beginning. Surely after tonight the barriers would come down and they would be able to communicate as they once had, as friends and as lovers. Not perfectly, not without setbacks, but with the commitment of two people who’d finally figured out what mattered most in their lives.
Inside the room dominated by that great expanse of bed, Cassie felt a moment’s triumph. She had gotten them this far. She had taken control of her life—not by running, but by staying. If there had been time, if Cole’s clever hands hadn’t been busily stripping away her clothes, she would have taken the time to pat herself on the back for finally maturing enough to stay the course, no matter how difficult.
But Cole clearly didn’t intend to give her—or himself—time to think. His touches, like hers earlier, were meant to excite. His kisses became deeper and more urgent. When his mouth closed over her breast, a wildfire burst into flame inside her.
This was the way it had been ten years ago—powerful, all-consuming need, frenzied caresses and a buildup so sweet, so intense, that she was sure she would die from it. Instead, just when she thought she could go no higher, when it seemed likely that her body was about to shudder in a wild, cataclysmic release, Cole found some way to ease her down before lifting her back to a new and even higher peak.
Beneath him, she moaned, straining, desperate and awash in sensations, frantic for him to bury himself inside her. His work-roughened hands were gentle, skillful and oh, so devious—tender one second, demanding the next. His muscles, hard from working the ranch, bunched beneath her touch. The body that had invaded her dreams, filling her head with erotic images, was even better in reality. Ten years had added strength and agility, had turned awkward, if delicious, fumbling into skillful lovemaking.
She might have had the will and the incentive to take the initiative tonight, but Cole was in control now, setting the pace, destroying her with his devastating kisses, his tormenting touches. She wanted…she needed…
“Cole, please,” she begged. “Now. I want you inside me now.”
His eyes glittered with satisfaction. His hands cupped her face, and his gaze locked with hers.
Then, oh, so slowly, he entered her at last, sinking deep inside her, filling her. She gasped at the pleasure of it, at the sense of fulfillment that stole over her.
But then he was moving and her body was soaring until together the climbed to the highest peak yet. This time there was no retreat, no blessed relief, just this building urgency, this frantic, fevered yearning that grew hotter and wilder until it exploded through her, then him in shuddering waves.
Cole murmured her name over and over as they clung together, trembling, then slowly…slowly returned to earth…to his bed…to reality.
And to all the problems that couldn’t be resolved so easily.
Cassie banished that thought as soon as it dared to creep in. She wouldn’t allow it, wouldn’t allow anything to spoil this moment. She had waited too long—not just since her wedding night, but years. Illusion or not, she deserved this sweet oblivion.
She sighed and cuddled more tightly against Cole. His arm held her securely, his hand rested on her hip. His breathing grew steadier, whispering against hot, fevered skin, cooling it.
“That was—” she began.
Cole touched a finger to her lips. “Don’t say anything.”
It was part command, part warning. “Why?” she asked as tension crept in to steal the serenity.
“Just let it be what it was. If we start examining it, things will only get complicated.”
Rather than quieting her, the request to leave things be stirred more questions. “Complicated how?”
This time Cole sighed heavily and pulled away, retreating from her not just physically but emotionally. She could feel the sudden chill in the air as surely as if the air-conditioning had kicked on. She gathered the sheet and wrapped herself in it before facing him.
“Cole, talk to me. Don’t you dare shut me out now.”
“What’s the point?”
It wasn’t the first time he’d asked that since she’d walked in on him earlier, but it was more devastating now. The hurt and anger she’d been living with for weeks bubbled back to the surface. “The point is that you and I have just made love—using no protection, I might add. We could have made another baby here today.”
An expression of such dismay crossed his face that Cassie’s heart sank. What she had viewed as a hopeful beginning Cole obviously saw as nothing more than another lapse in judgment. Rather than solving anything, tonight had only complicated their lives, perhaps more than either of them was ready to cope with.
“I assumed you were on the Pill,” he said stiffly.
She shivered as ice formed where only moments before there had been fire. “Why would you assume such a thing?” she asked. “I haven’t been involved with anyone. You certainly haven’t come near me since the wedding. Why would I be on the Pill?”
An unreadable mask slid over his face. “Because it would be the mature, responsible thing to do if you intended to come into my room and seduce me.”
“And the way you’ve been behaving is mature?” she snapped, losing patience. “You married me, Cole. For better or worse. Did you do it just so you could punish me till the end of time?”
He stiffened at the accusation, but he didn’t deny it.
She stared at him incredulously. “You did, didn’t you? Well, I don’t intend to live like this.” She leaped out of the bed and started grabbing clothes and putting them on haphazardly, not worrying with buttons or snaps, just the most basic decency so she could get from his room to her own.
“Oh?” he said with deadly calm, his gaze hooded as he watched her. “What will you do? Run?”
“Only across town,” she said. “I’ll take Jake and—”
“You won’t take Jake anywhere,” he said. “Jake stays with me.”
“Not until a court says he does,” she retorted.
He leveled a look at her that might have daunted her if she hadn’t been so furious.
“Are you willing to take that chance?” he asked. “Are you willing to risk losing your son? I won’t go about this halfway. I’ll go after full custody.”
She met his gaze and saw that he was absolutely serious. Fury died as fear crept back in. She wouldn’t let him see that, though. She couldn’t.
“Why do you want to keep me trapped in marriage, Cole? Have you asked yourself that? I think it’s because a part of you loves me, a part of you wants to know that I’m yours anytime you get around to forgiving me. You like dangling the prospect of forgiveness in front of me just to torture me, just to get a little revenge for what I did to you.”
He didn’t deny any of it, not even her claim that he loved her. He couldn’t, because they both knew it was true. The last hour had proved that. More than sex had been involved. They had made love. For a little while anger and hurt had slid away and their hearts had spoken. Cole had wanted this as desperately as she had. He just couldn’t make himself admit it.
Cassie might have pitied him for that, but right now she had no pity to spare. She was fighting not just for her son but for her marriage.
“If I stay,” she said firmly, her gaze clashing with his, “if I stay, then both of us have to work to make this marriage real. We have to do whatever it takes, see a counselor if we can’t figure things out on our own. The time has come for drastic measures, Cole. I’m willing.” She challenged him with a steady look. “Are you?”
He studied her warily. “Meaning?”
“No more separate bedrooms. No more separate beds.” She was adamant about it. There would be no compromise. “I love you. I always have. And I’m sorrier than I can say that I k
ept your son from you, but the truth is out now. You know. Either we deal with it and move on, together, as a family, or I take Jake and move back in with my mother and we go to court.”
Taking such a stance was a risk. She knew it even as the words left her mouth, but she had no choice. She would not live in emotional limbo. Maybe if Cole hadn’t mattered to her, she could have done it, but he did matter. He was the love of her life, the father of her son, and the distance between them was killing her bit by bit, day by day. It was worse than when they’d been separated, when she’d thought he had abandoned her.
He gave her a measured look, then said with a degree of bemusement, “You’ve changed.”
“I hope so. I’m not a teenage girl anymore.”
“No, I mean in the past few weeks. You’re stronger.”
Stronger? She wasn’t so sure about that. But she did recognize that this was no way to live. If she didn’t fight for her future, who would?
“I love you,” she said quietly. “If I’m stronger, it’s because I’ve stopped denying that. Maybe there’s a lesson in there for you, too. Loving me doesn’t make you weak, Cole. It takes a strong man to forgive.”
Before he could respond to the challenge of that, she walked out of his room and headed back to her own for what she prayed would be the last time. She would give him until tomorrow to come for her, to say that he was willing to try.
And just in case he stayed stubbornly away, she would begin to pack her bags.
Chapter Fifteen
Cole spent a long, lonely night after Cassie left his bed. He cursed himself for letting it come to this, for weakening his stance, for letting his determination slip.
He debated with himself for hours, wanting one thing, needing another and hating himself because of it. She had betrayed him. She wasn’t to be trusted. It was as simple—as black and white—as that.
But it wasn’t. It was murky as hell. Maybe there weren’t any rights or wrongs. Maybe there wasn’t any such thing as justice when emotions were involved. Maybe what was in his heart was all that mattered.
Do you take this rebel? Page 17