Pretend You Love Me

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Pretend You Love Me Page 12

by Stacia Wolf


  And he proceeded to make his imagination become reality.

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  Chapter Eight

  "Cassandra!"

  "Hello, Grandmother.” Mike turned, Cassie's hand firmly holding his, and watched Loretta Delistraty sweep down the ornate staircase toward them. He hadn't seen her in thirteen years; she still exuded that elegant air only money could buy.

  Thirteen years. A lifetime ago. He'd just discovered his growing feelings for Cassie, and seeing Stuart and Loretta Delistraty had reminded him how he'd never fit into her life.

  He watched the two women exchange air kisses, another thing that never happened in the real world. It seemed so phony and cold. Real families hugged. Real families smothered each other in love. They didn't deliver their affection to thin air.

  Cassie introduced Mike. Loretta held out one slender hand to him, her polite smile not quite reaching her faded green eyes. He smiled, murmured the appropriate thanks, then dropped her hand, hoping she'd missed his awkwardness. But to help Cassie, he'd endure even this.

  Loretta led them out to the atrium, a glass-walled room filled with antiques that Mike bet cost more than his entire club. One wall was devoted to the Judge's extensive coin collection. The rest opened up to the massive gardens. Mike had always preferred this room to the rest of the house because of its informal and almost casual air.

  Lucia waved at them, sitting at a little cluster of chairs with Cal. Cal smiled for his sister, but his cool gaze told Mike exactly how he felt about having him there.

  At least Mike looked the part. He'd changed into a pair of off-white slacks and a sage green polo shirt, looking every inch the country club set, an image that couldn't be farther from the truth. But even though he might fit clothes-wise, he'd never feel comfortable in this stilted not-quite-real atmosphere.

  Damn, he could use a beer. And maybe some pretzels.

  He stifled a snort. Like they even had stuff like that here. Cassie glanced at him, looking concerned, and he touched her cheek then watched her tiny frown disappear. She smiled and that simple connection with her lifted his spirits.

  A maid asked Cassie, “Would you like anything to drink, miss?"

  As if she'd read his mind, she said, “Two beers, please."

  Although everyone stared at her in shock, Mike wanted to kiss her for the sweet gesture.

  "Cass, I think I'd prefer lemonade. I wouldn't want your family to think I've driven you to drink.” He laughed gently, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. He understood her gesture, and it touched him deeply.

  Grinning, she kissed his cheek. “Good point.” She pulled him to her grandfather, and instead of an air kiss, planted a smack right on his aged cheek. Stuart Delistraty, thin and autocratic, scowled at her, but Mike swore he saw a twinkle in the old man's eyes as Cassie introduced them.

  "Forgive me if I don't stand,” Stuart said. “Recent hip surgery. Cassandra, you're as cheeky as your mother. I'd always hoped you'd grow up with more sense.” Ouch. Stuart Delistraty, former Congressman and state Supreme Court Justice, still didn't pull punches.

  "Cassie's got her own brand of sense,” Mike said, trying to keep some friendliness in his voice, but he didn't like Stuart's attack on Cass. She didn't deserve it.

  "Sense is way overrated, Grandfather. And seldom any fun."

  Stuart snorted. “Fun isn't what life's all about, Cassandra. You're nearly thirty. It's about time you concentrated on something other than ‘fun.’ Have you decided on what you're going to do next in your law career?"

  Mike bristled, but Cassie squeezed his hand in warning. She didn't seem to be upset over the old man's barbs. Did this happen all the time?

  "I'm taking a break from work,” Cassie said. “Today I'm pretending I haven't a care in the world, so I refuse to discuss anything serious. You know, I should have brought the dogs. They love the beach."

  "Last time you brought them, that damned brown rat bit me.” Stuart's mouth tightened, then he caught Cassie's poorly hidden grin. “You're teasing me.” His mouth twisted as he obviously fought off a smile of his own. “I'll have to buy a Rottweiler to protect me from your nasty little dogs."

  Laughing, Cassie said, “You'd stand a worse chance of getting bitten from your own dog, then, than from any damage poor Suzy could inflict on you."

  "True,” he conceded.

  "And,” she laughed, hugging Mike's arm, “You have something in common with Mike. Suzy nipped him as well."

  Cassie's good humor infected Mike. He couldn't hold back an answering grin. “Cassie tells me it means Suzy has good taste.” Stuart chortled. “Of course, I think it means the dog has a nasty temper and is more suited for taco stuffing than a pet."

  Stuart roared, and Cassie tried to look outraged, but Mike could feel the silent laughter shaking her. He planted a swift kiss on her lips just as a servant announced lunch.

  The meal started off in a pleasant if somewhat stilted manner. Cal didn't look at Mike, and Mike weighed every word he offered carefully. He wanted to make this lunch enjoyable for Cassie, and although she seemed very at ease, he could feel the tension in her, even from across the table. Did she always face family meals here this way, or did it have something to do with his presence?

  "What do you do for a living, Mr. Ashford?” Loretta waited for his answer with polite detachment.

  Caught with his spoon in mid-air, Mike set it back down in the chilled soup he'd been eating. “Please, call me Mike. I'm part owner in a nightclub near the U District."

  He saw the look of displeasure on Loretta's face. “Really?” Loretta said. “You make a living selling alcohol?"

  "I provide good entertainment to people in a safe environment. I make sure our patrons don't drink to excess."

  "Mike was also a firefighter, before he injured his knee,” Cassie said, her voice full of admiration. “His dad was a policeman, and Mike started the nightclub with his former partner, who'd been disabled in a gunfight. Nobody else would take a chance on Ernie, and Mike stepped forward."

  Mike couldn't help the warmth that filled him at her words of praise. Did she truly see him that way, as some sort of hero for helping Ernie out? He'd been unable to continue the work he'd loved, and when his dad mentioned Ernie's business ideas, it had seemed a natural solution to pitch in. That didn't make him a hero, but he discovered he liked being one in Cassie's eyes.

  "Where were you a firefighter?” Stuart asked.

  "Seattle.” Mike sipped his lemonade, then set the glass down. Suddenly he wished he'd let Cassie get him that beer.

  "Why'd you quit?” Stuart asked bluntly. “Even with a knee injury, you could have worked in some capacity."

  Mike's face felt his face harden. Leaving the fire department hadn't set well with him. But he'd tried a desk job and had gone quietly insane.

  "I like working with people.” A bare foot touched his leg, rubbing up and down his calf. Cassie. He caught the wicked gleam in her eye, and suddenly this conversation, and defending himself to this old man, didn't seem so important.

  "Mike holds charity drives and benefit events all the time. Last month, they raised money for a burn unit. A while ago, they helped a patron of theirs get a seeing-eye dog."

  Ouch. She made him sound like a saint, just for doing the right thing. Then her foot skidded upwards, and he dropped his soup spoon, diving a hand under the table to stop her from going too far up. Everyone looked at him strangely. Cassie lips twisted in silent amusement. Damn wench

  "Sorry, he said. “Had an itch. Must be the salt air."

  He sent her a warning gaze: Wait until later, baby.

  I'm looking forward to it, her look responded.

  * * * *

  Cassie lifted her face towards the pale sunshine, closing her eyes as she soaked in the warmth. Rocking back on the dock edge, her fingertips holding her steady on the weatherworn wood, she laughed. “Mike, wasn't that a rush?” She leaned into him where he sat next to her, their feet dangling inc
hes above the chilly Puget Sound water.

  "Yes.” Something in his voice told her he didn't mean the sail they'd just come back from, where strong winds had them skimming over the water at a rapid pace. Her blood still hummed from those perfect moments: the wind in her hair, stinging her face, the blue skies overhead and the man she loved by her side, laughing along with her, his eyes dancing with excitement.

  Opening her eyes, she gazed at him, and her heart twisted in her chest at what she saw there. His dark hair, tousled by their heart-pounding ride, made him look roguish instead of the safe, solid picture he usually presented. He'd put his black tank back on, and she loved the contrast between that and his golden tan. She considered a bonus that it left his broad shoulders bare. His dark sunglasses dangled from his long fingers. A small half smile tilted his sensual mouth upwards as he watched her, which usually would be enough to make her senses reel. But his gorgeous brown eyes sent her over the edge.

  They radiated with tenderness, happiness and a deeper emotion that she feared to call love. But her hungry soul dared to dream and it lifted her toward him to plant a gentle kiss right on that sweet, sexy smile.

  He kissed her back, their lips clinging together. One hand caressed her cheek as he whispered, “You're so damned beautiful you take my breath away."

  With any other guy Cassie would have laughed or considered it a come-on. She knew her hair, tugged out of its pony tail by the wind, laid twisted all about her face, and her cheeks, wind-stung as they'd raced over the water, were probably too bright. Her gray tank top clung to her with sweat, and her blue capris weren't anything she'd call sexy.

  But Mike thought she was beautiful, and she knew he believed it or he wouldn't have said it. All the years she'd known him, he'd never lied to her. Which was why when he'd said kissing her felt like kissing a sister, she'd been devastated. Not any more, though.

  She wanted to make this temporary thing with Mike more solid. The love swirling around inside her demanded it, craving a more permanent foothold in his life. She knew the odds were against them, but this was Mike. She'd cared for him most of her life, since Cal first brought him home on their tenth birthday and she'd later that day declared him to be her best present. Wouldn't that caring be enough to make them last, even if some day this incredible love she felt somehow faded? It had to be. This could be her only chance for long-term happiness when stacked up against the Delistraty curse.

  She kissed him again, tasting his lips with her tongue, the tangy, salty essence sending her pulse rate up even higher.

  "You love me,” she said, tossing the words in between them, knowing that whatever happened in the next few moments, her life would change forever.

  * * * *

  "You love me."

  Her statement slammed into him, shattering his happiness. He'd let too much show; the afternoon with her spent chasing clouds had made him forget who he was, who she was.

  He shoved his sunglasses back on his face, hiding his eyes. The damage was done, but having her read his soul unnerved him. He needed his wits about him.

  She was Cassandra Delistraty, who made cloud-chasing her life goal. He was Mike Ashford, failed firefighter and the owner of a nightclub, too far down on the social ladder from her to even register on her family's radar.

  He'd felt her grandparents’ disapproval. He'd been slapped with Cal's strenuous objections. What else did he need?

  He tried to laugh, but it came out forced. “What's not to love?” He kept his voice light and teasing, hoping to deflect her words into something less significant. But her eyes told him she didn't buy any of it. She was on a fishing expedition and she wanted to bring home the prize.

  Him.

  But how long would it last before their differences tore them apart? He didn't belong in this world, and it would always be a part of her. He remembered when her mother had reconciled with her parents and first took her children to meet their grandparents. Cal'd struggled with the relationship. He'd found their world to be phony and unappealing.

  Cassie, however, had adapted quickly. She'd loved her new relatives immediately. And with her bright smiles and bubbling personality, he was certain they'd warmed right up to her. She'd adored her grandparents until they'd tried to dictate her future. Then that famous Cassie stubbornness rose up and she'd rebelled.

  Watching her today, he wondered if she still fought them in her own way. Perhaps her relationship with him was simply another form of rebellion.

  That stung.

  "Mike, I'm not joking."

  "Cass, I never promised you anything. We both know that this is temporary, for me to keep you safe from your mom, and me from Ernie punching me out.” He tried a smile, but her eyes sparkled with temper. Uh-oh.

  "How can you say that, after making love to me? Temporary? Can you deny that there's a connection between us? That we mean more to each other than sex?"

  Her words echoed his own heart. Yes, he'd felt that bond in every cell of his body. He'd be a fool not to recognize that he'd fallen in love with her. He'd also be a fool to not realize that it had no future, no matter how much he wanted it.

  "Even if I did love you, which I'm not saying I do,” he said. “Sometimes that isn't enough. Just because you love someone doesn't mean you're meant to be with that person."

  She rocked back. “You can't be serious. You're willing to walk away from what we've shared?"

  His eyes closed at the pain that clenched his chest. The thought of leaving her shattered him, but if he got any deeper, would he ever recover? Would he ever be satisfied with something less than Cassie in his life?

  But he'd watched as she'd flitted through boyfriends like he went through socks. He knew she'd have the best of intentions, but intentions changed, faded away as reality set in. Witness her marriage: barely a few years before falling apart.

  He wanted more than a few years with his next commitment. He wanted forever.

  "Cass, this is all an illusion. Don't you understand that? We wove this little fantasy, filled it with great sex, and somehow fooled ourselves into thinking it's a good idea. But you and I both know we've nothing in common. Right now those differences seem wonderful, but trust me, you'll get tired of them and want to move on."

  The breeze carried her scent to him, immediately tightening his groin. Damn, why did she have to be so enticing, so wonderful? He wished he could point to one thing that turned him off, but everything—her smile, her slightly crooked nose, her wild crown of hair, the way her mind didn't work quite like anyone else's—enticed him. Even the sheen of tears coating those gorgeous green eyes tugged at his heart.

  "Mike, I love you. I'm in love with you. I know it's not an illusion or a fantasy, and I can't see myself ever getting bored with you. I'm not living a fantasy. I want to see where it goes. Can you honestly say you don't want that, too?"

  She loved him. His chest expanded a thousand times as joy filled him, carrying him up into the clouds for a perfect instant before he forced himself back to earth.

  "I'd love that, but I'm not stupid enough to fool myself into thinking it would last. I'm not exciting enough or glamorous enough for you, and you'll want to move on. If you did stick around, it would be because of obligation or pity, and I couldn't live with that. Cass, we're not meant to be together. Can't you see that?"

  Her mouth quivered. “What you're trying to say is that you don't trust me enough to commit to me. That my track record shows I can't stick with one guy for long. But I've never felt this way before. It's stronger, it's more deep inside me. I don't want to spend the rest of my life wondering if you were the one who could break the pattern.” She reached out, caressing his cheek. He wanted to lean into that touch, capture her hand against his face and hold it there forever. But could he trust it? Could he trust her words?

  "I don't want to be some sort of experiment, Cass."

  She smiled her reassurance. “You're not. You mean so much to me. I can't picture my life without you. Can you honestly say you d
on't love me?"

  No, he couldn't honestly say that. But he needed to say it, to give her the release she deserved. So he came as close to a lie to her as he'd ever come.

  "I don't want to, Cass. I'm sorry, but I don't want to try. I don't want to end up like your father."

  She froze, her hand still touching him. He could feel her flesh chilling against him, and his heart fractured. Her eyes became a swirling mass of pain, then her hand fell away.

  The skin where it had rested immediately felt like ice, mirroring his heart. Sharp agony expanded inside him.

  She lurched to her feet and with a sob whirled away from him, heading toward the house. He wanted nothing more than to call her back, enfold her in his arms and tell her he loved her with more than all his heart, with his soul and every fiber of his being. Yet he watched her go, knowing he'd done the right thing.

  Knowing that he'd never be the same.

  * * * *

  Blinded by tears, Cassie flung herself on her bed. Giant sobs racked through her and she smothered her face into her pillow, hoping nobody could hear her. But someone did, and she felt a hand caressing her hair and soothing words falling on her ears.

  Mom. With a cry, she twisted around into Lucia's arms as she gasped through her cries, trying to get some air into her starving lungs.

  "Hush,” Lucia soothed. “You'll be all right, baby. Shhh."

  "Mom, it hurts so bad."

  "Yes, baby, I know.” Lucia hugged her tighter, one hand stroking her hair, like she'd done when Cassie was a child and had come home in tears after being teased about the thrift store clothes she wore or her lack of a father in her home. Always she'd given Cassie some words of wisdom to strengthen her or help her understand why fate could be so cruel. But Cassie couldn't imagine anything that would help her now, so she curled into her mother's arms and cried.

  "I know, baby.” Lucia never missed a stroke on her hair. “You've loved him for so long, and now you face losing him."

  "He's afraid I'm too much like you, that I'll leave him when I get bored."

  Lucia's hand stilled, and she tilted Cassie's face towards her with one finger under her chin. “What do you mean, ‘too much like me?’”

 

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