“Everything he touches is solid.”
Even out of place, Cassandra could talk the talk. She twisted her eyes to the little man, and Oliver finally nodded. The little man seemed appeased, and she gripped his am tighter.
Maybe she could help him.
Cassandra saw the lady seeing Oliver. Her desires were plain. At a second’s notice she would undoubtedly ditch her smaller companion for the prize at Cassandra’s side.
Not so fast.
“So nice to see you again,” the lady purred. She moved forward and lightly kissed Oliver’s cheek. Cassandra could feel him tense at the touch, and she stepped in between the lady and her intended target.
“Isn’t he?” Cassandra knowingly asked. “I love to see him.”
She was drafted for the task at hand. Interlopers were not welcome.
“And who are you?” the tall lady asked.
She was found out. There was no stopping it. Cassandra felt cheap under her gaze, but she resolved to not stay in that state.
“I’m an opera lover,” Cassandra said. “How did you get here?”
The tall lady was too stunned to respond. Good. Cassandra had thrown her off her choreographed game. Cassandra had images of her leaving her little man, night after night, for someone else’s bed in the hope of snaring Oliver. But it wasn’t his style. Oliver wanted to know what he was getting. He’d pay to make sure. That was Cassandra’s role for the evening. And she’d play it for all it was worth.
Cassandra glanced over her shoulder. Oliver’s attention had drifted from the uninvited guests and was completely on her. She liked his eyes there, and she wanted to seal the deal.
“Excuse me?” the tall lady asked.
Cassandra wrapped her arm around Oliver’s waist.
“So sorry! We have to dash. The show’s starting.”
She could feel him tighten against her touch, and she led Oliver from the pair with a light giggle. Oliver stayed stiff under her arm until they reached the top of the staircase. The tall lady was already departing from the reach of the little man. Cassandra surveyed the scene with total triumph.
Oliver pulled her closer to him. Cassandra felt his arms around her waist. She could understand nothing in his stare and silently worried that she’d made the wrong move. Were they more important than she had imagined and therefore worthy of his attention? She shouldn’t have dragged him away from them.
He finally smiled.
“Thanks,” he said.
Cassandra started to relax.
“For what?”
“For getting them off my back. I’m not here for Gene and Tammi.”
Now she knew their names. She’d remember every second of the evening. He wasn’t here for them. Good.
“I… you’re welcome.”
She was already starting to feel in sync. Maybe not with all he was. But she was rising to the moment. He wanted distractions from the Genes and Tammi’s of the world. She could do that.
Oliver pulled a piece of her fallen hair back behind her ear.
He wanted her.
She could fill the void.
As the crowd murmured below and the house lights flashed, Cassandra was seized by the need to know him better. She raised her face to his and lightly kissed his lips. She expected Oliver to pull her closer and take her before the curtain rose. Even if she wasn’t on the clock, it would be hard to resist the promise of his body. Oliver didn’t press her to the ground. He kissed her brow and led her away from the entire scene.
The balcony was theirs alone. Private. Naturally. Oliver saw that she was settled in her seat and reached under his own for a chilled bottle of wine. He pried it open and retrieved two matching glasses before he started to pour. Cassandra sniffed the crushed grapes and waited for Oliver to make the next move.
He extended his glass in the promise of a toast.
“To… whatever comes next.”
She loved the sound of it. There was the suggestion that this one night was not a fixed contract, paid for and forgotten in the light of morning. Something else was happening. Cassandra could drink it in and forget her precarious financial situation. He obviously had the funds to keep shelling out endlessly. Maybe the worry over her rent would soon be at thing of the past. She welcomed the possibility. Iris would be ecstatic at her right call.
But Cassandra was already feeling something else.
Even in his seat, Oliver Chambers was long and lean. Cassandra imagined him out of his suit, his skin against hers. But he hadn’t taken her on the stairs. He wouldn’t take her here. If it came, when it came, it would be later. Cassandra should just sit back and enjoy the show in anticipation.
She raised he glass.
“To whatever comes next.”
She swallowed the wine in one go and choked on the flow. Oliver’s hands found her back as she coughed.
“Just breathe.”
He eased her through it, and Cassandra couldn’t help but fall against his shoulder as air reentered her lungs. Oliver patted her back.
“Okay?” he asked.
Cassandra nodded without words. Oliver emptied his glass and topped them both off with a smile.
“Hope you like Puccini.”
She did. She had lied. Peter Grimes was a masterpiece, but it wasn’t her favorite. She had a soft spot for the simplest, most tragic love story in the repertoire. That wasn’t on the bill tonight. But she’d take the melodies and intrigue of Tosca and delight in his closeness.
The conductor took the podium to thunderous applause. Cassandra set her glass beside her feet and had to clap with the others. She saw Oliver finish his drink with another smile as the orchestra came to life. As she had with her wine, Cassandra drank in the music, let it soak into her soul. She was on edge for the love duet when she felt Oliver’s hand in hers.
Their eyes met.
He was broken. She could see that in his stare. Whatever was in the past leaked into their present. Cassandra wanted to hold all of him close and focus on the music with the assurance that everything would be okay. She forgot how she had come to his side and believed in fate. She was broke. He had infinite amounts of cash on hand. She was waiting for the payment. He had all the time in the world. She was playing a part. He was living his life.
Yet she had to wonder how many other girls had filled this role.
Cassandra wanted to be the last in the line.
Oliver touched her face, smoothed her hair. She understood contented under his hands. There had been other girls. Cassandra wasn’t a fool. But maybe her feet could reach the next step. It was a place that the tall lady could only dream of. And now Cassandra was approaching the threshold.
“You… you are supremely lovely,” he said.
That was enough.
Cassandra folded her arms around his neck and pressed him even closer. Oliver seemed eager for the next step, and Cassandra wrapped him into a kiss and tried to show him that he was lovely. Lovely because he was stunning in every way. More so because she he needed someone close. Cassandra wanted to be that someone.
His kiss was light and short. Cassandra was surprised that he turned his head away so quickly. But why? He had told her that she was lovely; he had found excuses to touch her. So what had gone wrong?
She started to speak as he took her hand and turned her face towards the stage.
“Just listen to the music, Cassandra.”
“I…”
“Isn’t it beautiful?”
There was no arguing about that. The tenor rhapsodized about the virtues of his lover with a fervor that made Cassandra blush. She could still feel Oliver’s fingers curling about her hand. Beyond that sensation, she was transported to another place. It was a world of desperate desire with the danger just lurking in the wings. But Cassandra wasn’t afraid. She welcomed whatever dwelled on this new terrain.
As the audience applauded the tenor’s efforts, Cassandra could feel Oliver’s eyes focused on something else entirely. She turned her head. He mig
ht be listening to the music as well. But he was only watching the action at his side.
“Is something wrong?” she breathlessly asked.
His lips unfolded into a soft smile.
“Not a thing.”
“But why aren’t you—?”
“I want to see you enjoying it.”
Cassandra struggled to leave his gaze. But she did as she was told and turned her attention back to the performance. To enjoy it now was not the easiest of feats when she felt as if she was performing for him. It was a kind of acting. Cassandra realized she had the talent. And she silently vowed not to let him down. Under any circumstances.
The act proceeded under her anxious eyes. A lovers’ duet and a villain’s solo passed before her in glorious chords. A small part of Cassandra couldn’t help but be transfixed. But most of her soul was wrapped up in Oliver’s eyes and the mystery of just what he wanted. It couldn’t just be to expose her to the music.
The act ended to more applause. As the house lights rose, Oliver left her hand. Cassandra felt as if she would faint at the loss of his touch, and she thought she would shatter when he turned all of his attention from her and looked to his phone. He slipped it back into his pocket and smiled again.
“You are enjoying it, aren’t you?”
She weakly nodded.
“Good.”
He seemed to search her face in an effort to believe. Cassandra flashed her teeth. She was enjoying everything about the night. But she wanted the promise of the after show.
Oliver sighed and watched the other spectators move towards the lobby.
“A wonderful production,” he started, “but the party’s bound to be a bore.”
He looked to her again. Cassandra was literally on the edge of her seat.
“We could make a quick exit and find a quiet spot. Would you enjoy that?”
He didn’t have to ask her twice.
Chapter Nine
They walked from the opera house to Oliver’s waiting car. He had to rap on the window to pull Jeff away from his iPhone. Jeff leapt from the car and held the door open for his the boss and his lady.
“Thank you,” Cassandra murmured as she slipped inside.
“Don’t mention it,” Jeff said. “Where to?” he asked Oliver.
“Back to the Empire.”
“You got it.”
Oliver entered the car and resumed the place where she wanted him most. He was once again at her side.
“That okay with you?” Oliver asked as Jeff was already en route.
“Yes. I… I only got to see the lobby. But it was stunning.”
Oliver grazed his fingers against her exposed knee. Cassandra quivered as his hand played about her flesh.
“That’s nothing. The rooms are spectacular.”
So it was going in that direction. Iris had pointed that she wasn’t a prude. She also wasn’t a slut. Had he been anyone else, she might have demanded that they stay in their balcony seats and wait for Tosca to fall. But he was stirring thoughts beyond the opera. She knew she’d be powerless to deny any request he might make.
And she was hungry to know exactly what he wanted.
Jeff pulled up to the hotel and held the door open again. He gave Cassandra a quick wink as Oliver led her inside. She expected him to stop at the front desk and request a room. They bypassed a trio of men in matching suits. Oliver held her arm and guided her towards the elevator bank. It had to have been his plan all along. Was he so sure of himself? Or did he like a challenge? The former was obvious. Cassandra could barely pretend that she was the latter.
They entered the room. Cassandra saw the crisp white sheets perfectly reflected in a large mirror. She smiled to herself at the thought that he would want to watch her enjoying yet another aspect of the evening.
“Care for another drink?” he asked.
Absolutely.
Cassandra nodded, and he reached into a bucket already chilling on a nearby table. Waiting. He had been sure of more than himself. He had been sure of her faced with him.
Oliver poured the wine and offered her a glass. Cassandra sipped the sweet, golden liquid with a perfect aftertaste and looked deeply into his eyes.
“Mmmm. That’s delicious.”
“Isn’t it.”
He had yet to even taste his wine. But it was apparent that the promise of something sweeter was unfolding across every corner of his mind.
“Join me on the bed?”
Cassandra grew dizzy. Was it the wine or the man? Before she could decide, Oliver guided her to the edge, and they sat together. She sipped again. Oliver finished his wine in one shot and quickly poured another. She felt drunk just looking at him. He returned to her side and stretched out. Away from her. Cassandra didn’t like that. Oliver loosened his tie, and his eyes followed her waiting form from her head to her toes.
“I like the dress,” he finally said.
“What this? It’s nothing. Just collecting dust in a closet.”
His interest was piqued.
“Really? Are you in the habit of keeping gowns to collect dust?”
Cassandra wanted to be mysterious for him. She wanted him wondering about a double life where she donned formal wear as a spy or a movie star. The moves she could perform if he indulged the fantasy were infinite.
“I like to be ready.”
That’s right. Keep him intrigued. Keep him guessing.
“For what?” he asked. “The next time you catch the bouquet?”
So she hadn’t fooled him. Even though she hadn’t advertised her always a bridesmaid status on LeaseALady, Oliver was quick to connect the dots of just who and what she was.
Cassandra started to stand when his relaxed posture tightened, and he took hold of her wrist. She thought of wrenching her arm away, but his eyes held her in a space where she couldn’t comprehend motion.
“Easy,” he said. “I didn’t mean anything by it. And I do like the dress.”
Her body eased back to the bed. She could think of nothing else to say, and she finished her wine. Oliver was on his feet in a flash, pouring her another. She eagerly accepted the glass and forgot about playing the lady. She downed a large swallow in a single gulp. The wine dribbled down her chin, and she wiped her mouth with her bare hand. Better to keep the dress from collecting something else.
“Whoa!” Oliver said. “Slow down, Cassie.”
It was the one name that had never been bestowed upon her. She was Cass to Iris and her other friends. Cassandra to her professors and the interviewers who were quick to show her the door. Sandy to her family. She always hated it. Cassie seemed such an obvious choice. But no one she knew had ever latched onto the possibility.
Until now.
“I’m… I’m sorry.”
Oliver brushed a strand of stray hair from her wine stained cheek.
“Don’t apologize. Just take it easy. I don’t want you drunk.”
She made a mental check and noted the one way that he claimed that she would not appeal to him. Fine. She set the glass down on the floor and tucked her legs under her skirt. Cassandra folded her hands under his chin and managed to smile as he reclined again.
“Okay. So what do you want?”
She was intrigued.
Oliver kicked off his shoes and lifted his legs to the bed. She quickly realized that he could only see his own eyes in the mirror. For a second she wondered if he was narcissistic enough to whet her appetite in order to view only his possibilities in the glass.
Suddenly, nothing was obvious.
“What do I want?” he asked as he dangled the glass between his fingers. “To talk. Just talk.”
Okay.
“I… I don’t know…”
“What to say?” he asked. “Figured. It’s okay.”
Cassandra tried to relax for whatever would come next.
“So… what do you want to talk about?”
Oliver finished his wine and tossed the glass to the floor. It didn’t shatter.
“You.”
The familiar topic made her unusually nervous.
“Seems you already know a lot,” Cassandra said.
He laughed and fell back against the bed.
“Hardly. Why are you doing this?”
Was he insulting her for trying the trade that filled his lonely nights?
“Excuse me?”
He waved his hand in a weak gesture of surrender.
“No offense meant. None. But I am curious. Fine taste. Finer face. Why do you have to give it away?”
She was hardly giving it away. Did he think that he was going to skimp on the bill by getting her drunk? But he claimed that was the last thing he wanted. Still, she was buzzed enough to leave the bed and toss her own glass. It hit the far wall. It shattered into a million shiny shards. Cassandra gasped at the destruction she had wrought and pressed her hand to her open mouth.
“Oh! I’m sorry.”
She waited for Oliver to rise and hurry her to the door. No one smashed his plans. Especially not Cassie.
He was on his feet. And laughing. He took hold of her shoulders and gently kissed the top of her head.
“And feisty. Strong Stay that way. It’ll serve you well.”
Cassandra expected him to pull her back to the bed. He wanted her strong. She could do that. And more.
Oliver lifted her face to the light and carefully inspected her image. Cassandra let a low sigh leave her lips as he appeared to consider what would come next. What he would do next?
Cassandra forgot her outrage and prepared to play along.
“What do you want?” he asked.
It was a question with too many answers. At this second she wanted him. All of him. Beyond that she wanted a sense of security. She wanted tomorrows that weren’t preludes to more worry. She wanted to be safe.
“I… I want…”
It was so clear in her mind. But she couldn’t give it voice.
“Do you want this?”
He met her mouth and kissed her in all the ways she had wanted at the opera. His tongue was soft as he reached around her waist and pulled her closer. Cassandra fell against him and tomorrow became Oliver Chambers. She wanted him to press her against the bed and remove every inch of reality. When his lips left hers, Cassandra reached for his face. She wanted his mouth again. But Oliver beat her to the punch and held her stare before his.
The Bound Bride Page 5