At around this same time, he began hearing about non-profits that were shutting their doors because they couldn't afford a full staff of their own. After doing some research, he made a proposition to the board members of twenty organizations: keep the staff you have, then use mine for everything they can't handle. It worked out beautifully, and everyone involved was thrilled with the results.
Well, everyone except for the three orgs that he had eventually refused to work with, after he discovered that they were badly mishandling funds that could better serve their target populations. All three eventually lost funding and closed down.
Mostly, though, he was happy that he could give back a little. He was a very wealthy man, and a day didn't go by that he didn't feel like the luckiest guy on earth.
Tonight, though, he didn't feel so lucky. A crazy recluse, dog slobber, and the impending ire of his board all made for a cringe-worthy day. The shower helped a little, and the beer helped a little more, but he still couldn't get Cassie Tanger out of his head.
It was almost ten by now, but he settled down in his home office and tried to check his email. She just kept interrupting his thoughts. The board wanted her, specifically, and he had no idea how to gain her cooperation now that he'd made such a mess of things. She was one of the best horticulturists in the country, and they needed her expertise.
Boone just didn't think it was going to work. He doubted that she would be willing to travel halfway around the world to check things like soil composition and local weather conditions if she wouldn't even leave her house. The problem was, the people in Malaysia needed help with their crops, and they might even begin to starve soon without her assistance. She hadn't worked in the field since her husband died, but she was still the best in the business.
He would just have to find a way. He glanced at the telephone, then picked it up. Maybe a phone call would work better.
Chapter 6
Cassie took a shower, cleaned out the cut on her head - it was more of a scrape and she didn't know what all the fuss was about - and went back to bed. It had been a long, heart-stopping day, and she was so glad it was over. Lela lay nearby on the floor, as always, and Cassie was glad for her presence.
That exasperating man was finally gone, and she was still amazed at his intrusion into her house. She was even more amazed that she had allowed it. She shouldn't have. She should have called the cops immediately when he wouldn't leave the first time. How could anyone be so...so... infuriating? She punched her pillow.
He had never even told her what he wanted, and she couldn't begin to imagine what it might be. She didn't do anything important anymore, besides write and publish her gardening books. It was one of the few things she could do that required no outside interaction.
Maybe one day she would try again, and go be part of the world. Right now, though, it just seemed too dangerous and overwhelming to her.
She barely heard the phone when it rang somewhere downstairs, and she didn't bother getting up to answer it. Instead, she lay where she was and thought about the man who had taken over her evening. It had been a long time since she'd had contact with the opposite sex, and he was quite a fine specimen. Her mind called up a picture of him, standing there in her kitchen. He was much taller than her, at least six-five, and he had taken over her house with just his presence there. She wondered if he had that effect everywhere. Probably. He seemed like he was the kind of man who just...took over, no matter what the situation.
Still, there was nothing wrong with that. Her husband had been like that, too. A decision maker. A hands-on, get it done kind of guy. She imagined that he got what he wanted most of the time.
That made her smile. He had certainly met his match this afternoon, hadn't he?
She thought about how his hands felt on her skin. Nice. Very nice. She hadn't realized how much she missed the touch of a man. OK, that was silly. The touch of anyone, most likely. She only got hugs from her sister, and those were stiff and businesslike, as if she would break under applied pressure.
Boone's hugs would be completely enveloping and oh-so-warm. He would have to bend down and completely enfold her in his hugs. He would make her feel tiny. She hadn't felt tiny in a long time.
Not that she needed to; she was just fine the way she was. Free. Self-sufficient. Contained. Content. Alone.
Before today, she had been fine with that description of herself. She thought that was the way she wanted it. It hit her that her independence was a matter of pride and fear. She was suddenly tired of it. Now, free and alone sounded and felt a lot more like, well, lonely. And definitely in need of some attention, she thought, remembering her reaction to Boone's touch.
She slipped her hand below the covers, let it trail along her breasts and belly, then slid it down to cover her warm mound. She seldom wore panties, and her husband had been the only one to know that. She didn't do this often, but once in a while she felt the pressure grow inside of her for whatever reason, and she needed the release. Tonight, as much as she hated to admit it, the reason was Boone.
Surely, after today, she would never see him again, so that made it OK to think about him while she took care of this. She let her earlier thoughts from the kitchen return, but placed herself in the position of his wife. She imagined him stretched out naked here in her bed, his hard body warm and rough against her side. His hand would slip down and find her soft heat, touching here...and here...and oh! Here. Especially here. She let her own fingers find the tiny bundle of nerves that ease the growing ache inside. Tickling all around it, she slipped her other hand down even further to find her wetness. The heat coming off of her body was incredible, and she imagined that he would enjoy it as he stroked up and down the length of her then gently pushed one and then two fingers inside of her. He would stay that way, exploring her, prodding deeper as he continued to rub the bud that sent pleasure washing through her body.
In a moment, she was using her hands to feed that pleasure, squeezing her hand tight against herself as she pushed in and out of the wet heat that her body produced. Breathing harder, she thought of his hands where hers now were, she thought of his tongue caressing her nipples as his own hardness grew in readiness for her. She thought about the moment when he would finally slide into her, join them together in the most intimate way possible, and make her call out his name with the force of her climax.
Only then would he take his own pleasure, release the heat and strength that was rolling through him and threatening to overflow. She moaned at the thought of him swelling and convulsing inside of her, filling her until she could take no more of him.
When she was finished, she found that she was panting a little, and licked her lips to wet them. What a nice fantasy.
Just before dropping off to sleep, though, she noticed that she was feeling a different kind of hunger, beyond the one that she could take care of by herself. She was very, very lonely. Boone wasn't the fix for that, though. As dangerous as the world was, having any sort of relationship with him would be devastating. She was sure, with his money and obvious power, that he was swamped with the attention of any woman he wanted. She, on the other hand, was a fearful, plump eccentric who didn't know how to interact with people anymore. It would never work.
Chapter 7
Cassie awoke to the sound of pounding far below her on the first floor, and groaned. Someone was at the door. For the second time in a week, someone had breached her self-appointed fortress. What was going on? She climbed out of bed and shivered in the morning chill, then dug some yoga pants and a T shirt out of her dresser. Make them wait long enough, and they might just go away.
Lela was already alert, standing at the door and waiting for her to open it.
"Sic 'em, girl," she muttered, only half joking as she turned the knob and let the dog go. Whoever it was wasn't going away, it seemed. Great. Downstairs, sunlight flooded onto her cherry hardwood floors and washed the room in warmth. Cassie smiled, as she always did. She loved this house.
Just as she got to the door, she heard a voice and froze. Boone.
"Let me in, Cassie! I know you're in there!"
What in the world was he doing here? She was sure she had seen the last of him. Hadn't she made herself clear? She ignored the little leap of her heart and leaned against the door with her shoulder, as if he would try to break in.
"Go away, Mr. Colter. I have no desire to hear anything you have to say."
"Cassie?" She heard his hand slide along the door as he dropped it. Once again, he was just on the other side, close enough to touch if not for the wood that separated them. Too close for her comfort, regardless of her thoughts the other night. "Cassie, open up. I really need to talk to you."
"No."
She heard him huff, and then a thump, like he'd leaned his head against the door.
"OK, please? My bosses will skin me alive if I don't at least talk with you."
"That is not my problem, sir. Tell them I'm not interested."
Who were his bosses, anyway? The way he said the word, she thought of the mob. Surely he wasn't in the mob? No, wait. He'd said something about a board of directors.
"That's the thing." His voice sounded impatient now. "You will be interested, I think, if you'll hear me out."
"No."
"People's lives are dependent on you, Cassie. They need your help."
She raised an eyebrow and stared at the door. What could he possibly be babbling about? No one depended on her. At all. Well, except for Lela, and she just needed kibble and treats. The man was insane. He had, however, piqued her curiosity. She reached for the door handle, but then paused.
"If I tell you to leave, will you do it? You aren't coming in to plant yourself in my house forever, are you?"
"Of course I'll leave if you ask."
He hadn't the evening before. She remained still.
"I was just worried about you the other day. I promise, today, that I will go any time you ask."
She wanted to say, I just asked and you didn't leave, but held her tongue. Arguing with him would do no good, and she really was curious about his words. Mentally kicking herself, she opened the door anyway.
He loomed over her just as much as she remembered, but at least the light in his eyes was kind and apologetic. Today he was in jeans and a more casual shirt, and the effect was striking - he was even sexier than she remembered. For just a moment, she allowed her mental images from a few nights ago to flip through her mind, and her face flushed. She covered her cheeks with her hands.
"I'm so sorry," he said immediately, one hand up as if she were going to slam the door again. "I didn't want to bother you again, but my bosses would kill me if I didn't try my very best to work this out."
She allowed herself to take in his dark hair and handsome, if determined, face. He had movie star good looks, even though his mannerisms didn't show any of the arrogance that usually accompanied that kind of sexy. "Work what out, Mr. Colter?"
"May I come in? And call me Boone. This could take a while to explain, because I don't know how familiar you are with Malaysia."
Malaysia? She raised one eyebrow, opened the door wider and motioned for him to follow her, saying only, "I need coffee for this, I think."
Chapter 8
Boone followed her through her perfect house to the kitchen, noticing that she touched several plants as she passed by them. A leaf here, a finger in the soil there. Once she even stopped to partially turn a tall potted tree of some sort. He was relieved that she had let him in, but still sure that she would never agree to his proposal. Well, at least he could say he tried.
He watched as she busied herself at the counter. She was so short that her head barely brushed the upper cabinets, and he thought that when she wasn't out cold or mad, she was really, really cute. "Have you lived here long?"
"My whole life," she said over her shoulder, flipping back her sassy, silky-looking hair. "This was my grandmother's house, and when I inherited it we decided to live here while we fixed it up and then sell it. That was the plan anyway."
"But then your husband died," Boone said gently. "After that, you holed up here and refused to be a part of the world." It suddenly struck him that maybe she wasn't such a crazy recluse, after all. Hearing the pain in her voice, he began to understand why she might choose to hide away. It was still a shame, though.
"I didn't-. Well, I did. Your right. I'm safer here, and no one can convince me otherwise. How do you know so much about me, Boone?"
"It's not weird, I promise," he said, grinned. "I always do research on my possible business partners, just in case there's something shady going on. It makes things go much smoother later, if I know they aren't, well, a liability."
"Well, I call that snooping, and I'll say it once more. You aren't going to convince me-."
He held up his hands. "I wouldn't dare try. It's just that...."
"What?"
"Well, you have to know that you are the most accomplished horticulturist in the country, and if you've paid any attention to the outside world in the last few years, you also have to know that the world - at least some parts of it - is in desperate need of your expertise and assistance." His mind searched for more urgent words. "They need you, Cassie."
Her shoulders slumped. "That was a long time ago, Boone. I'm sure there are others, better qualified-."
He looked her in the eye and shook his head hard. "No. there aren't. At least, not anyone with the extensive background in tropical climate scenarios such as yours. We've looked."
"Seriously?
"Seriously. People assume that in tropical climates no one has trouble with crops. It's temperate, the rainfall levels look good, and so forth. They dismiss tropical locales as a serious course of study. You didn't. Why is that, Cassie?"
She turned from the counter with two cups of steaming coffee. She looked so soft to Boone, and so fragile, that he just wanted to wrap her in his arms and do whatever it took to heal her pain. How could someone so lovely and...precious...be so broken? It wasn't fair. Instead, knowing that it would lead to a fight, he reached for his coffee and waited for her reply.
"But rainfall is the problem! Those types of climates get too much! Their crops rot, and they can't feed their families or earn a living!" Her eyes conveyed distress, and he gave a slight smile and a nod. She did still love this, even if she was lying to herself.
"The roots of any plant need air to breathe, just like us, and too much water suffocates them very quickly. It's simple, but often the people who farm in those countries can't afford proper drainage measures, and then they lose everything!"
"I know, I know," he said, smiling wider. "What we need from you-"
Wait. Who's we?"
"Good question. My organization works with the organizations who are trying to help these farmers."
"The Butterfly Organization. What does that mean, anyway?"
"You've heard the old saying 'When a butterfly flaps its wings in one part of the world it can cause a hurricane in another part of the world'?" She was already nodding. "Well, that's what we're trying to do - help organizations make small changes that will affect the world in a big way. We pull together the best minds in a field, pair those with the biggest hearts, and try to solve the problems. It doesn't always work, but most of the time, we get to help make a difference. In this case, for Malay farmers."
"Wow. That must be satisfying."
He nodded and, suddenly restless, he got up from the table to pour another cup of coffee. He knew he was taking a chance with his next words. "It is, and that's why we need you. I want to help these people. At the same time, Cassie, I want you to get a taste of that satisfaction."
"Why? Why do you care how I feel?"
He sat back down and looked her in the eye. He swore she got prettier every time he looked at her. "You've decided that the world is too bad, and I have an inexplicable but burning desire to prove you wrong."
She laughed. "A burning desire? Really?"
"You don't bel
ieve me? The world is a good place, Cassie. It really is. Sometimes bad things happen, sometimes people get ugly, but most of the time the good guys prevail."
Her laughter died, but the smile was still on her face. It was a sad smile, though, and she wouldn't meet his gaze. "I'm afraid not, Boone. That hasn't been my experience, anyway. I'm sorry. I wish it was different, but it's not, and I can only protect myself."
"Listen to this, then." He waited until she looked up again. "I met a man in Pahang, less than a mile from one of the main transport roads in the country. Through a translator, I learned that he had been farming his little twelve-acre plot for half a century, and that his father and grandfather did the same before he was born. He was a small and simple man, bent from the work but still so happy. His family had all that they needed."
She shook her head in confusion. "So what's the problem? It sounds like he's fine."
Boone wished he could introduce her to the man, let her feel the spark of joy that rested in his elderly chest. "His youngest daughter, one of three still living at home, needs several operations to repair her knees. She can't run and play, Cassie. She's happy enough, but imagine never going outside to enjoy all that greenery and fresh air. Her father wants that for her, but he can't give it. It's more than he can afford."
"See?" She answered, her eyes growing hard. "Bad things happen all the time."
"You don't understand..." He tamped down his frustration and continued. "With three good growing seasons, he can fix it. He can help his little girl. She's seven," he added. "As it is, half of his crop rots in the field every year - always has."
"But if he can't afford to create proper drainage channels, there's nothing anyone can do." She shrugged and held out her hands, palms up. "I can't magically make crops grow in those conditions. I'm sorry."
Star-Crossed Curves: BBW Erotic Romance Boxed Set Page 17