Pretend You Love Me

by Stacia Wolf

  "You know, Mom.” How could she say this without hurting her mother's feelings? “You... you've never been able to settle down with one man."

  "And you think that's because I'm fickle?” Lucia's laugh sounded bitter. “Honey, the exact opposite's true. I lost my heart to one man, and despite all my attempts, I've never been able to get him out of my system."

  One man? “I don't understand,” Cassie said.

  Lucia's sea-green eyes, so much like her own, stared out the window. “I fell in love long ago. In fact, I was probably about the same age as you were when you fell for Mike. Seventeen."

  Seventeen. Her mother'd been in high school. Had her father been a rebound? “Is that why you didn't marry Dad?"

  Lucia frowned. “I don't want to discuss your father."

  "Why aren't you with this guy, Mom? Did he doubt you like Mike doubts me?"

  Lucia smiled, her eyes tender. “No, baby. I fell in love with the wrong kind of guy. He cheated on me. The girl took great delight in telling me. But unfortunately, that didn't stop me from loving him. God help me, I still do."

  Cassie's head swam. Instead of being fickle, Lucia'd been in love with the same man all this time. Had her father been Lucia's attempt to move on?

  Cassie wiped the tears from one cheek with the back of her hand. “What did you mean, that I was seventeen when I fell for Mike? I admit I had a crush on him before, but it wasn't love."

  Lucia shook her head. “Baby, I saw it in your eyes. Whenever you looked at him, your feelings were right there for me to read. I recognized it, because I saw it in myself. If you're truly like me, you've loved Mike ever since. You can fool yourself all you want and call it a crush, but it was love."

  She'd always had feelings for Mike, since before their first kiss. But love?

  She remembered that kiss; it never faded from her mind. She'd wrapped herself around him, burying her fingers in that thick, dark hair like she'd dreamed of doing forever. Then she'd planted her mouth on his, using all the tricks she'd learned from all the bad dates she'd been on to get him to feel something for her, and all she'd gotten was ‘It's like kissing a sister.’ But for her, fireworks and toe curls didn't come close to describing it. It had been as if she'd awakened from a dream and discovered reality wrapped up in her arms.

  Then he'd walked away. Just like today.

  "He doesn't want to try, Mom. He's not willing to fight for what we have. He doesn't love me."

  "No, baby, that's not true. He does love you. He's as easy for me to read as you are. But he's convinced himself that he's not good enough for our family, and your marriage and your dating history gives him more ammo to fend you off with.” Her mouth twisted. “And so, apparently, does mine."

  Cassie hiccupped, wiping away another hot tear. “So he loves me and I love him. Big, fat hairy deal. All it means is that I get to be miserable for the rest of my life, never happy with anyone else. This is what happens when you let hope derail you from reality."

  "Cassandra.” Lucia's stern mother-voice ceased Cassie's diatribe. “I'm shocked that you're letting self-pity speak for you. You're too smart to let a man's opinion stop you from getting what you want. And in the end, that's all it is: his opinion that you're not right for each other. You and I both know opinions can be changed. The question is how."

  Curling her legs underneath her, Cassie eyed her mother. She made it sound so simple. But Cassie'd learned the hard way that nothing in her life worked that way. “Fine, you have an idea? Then let's hear it."

  She didn't try to soften the sarcastic tone of her voice, but Lucia didn't react to it. “Use his sense of fairness to your advantage. Get him to agree to give you some time. A month, a week, whatever, so you can convince him that the two of you are meant to be together."

  Meant to be together. She liked the ring of that. But it wouldn't be easy. “Mom, I've already told him I'm in love with him, and he pointed out my track record and basically told me that someday I'll get bored and wander off."

  Lucia smiled. “There's your weapon right there, my love. Convince him that you've always loved him. And because of that, your marriage didn't stand a chance. I mean, you loved your husband, but not with your whole heart. How could you?"

  Lucia tapped Cassie's chest lightly with one red-tipped finger. “Mike still had a huge chunk of it."

  * * * *

  The leaden weight that had settled in Mike's chest grew heavier with every article of clothing he placed in his duffle bag. He hadn't brought much, so packing shouldn't take long. But the finality of it multiplied the pain he felt.

  He'd done it. He'd walked away from Cassie, giving them both a chance at a better future with other people who'd suit them more. Someday, when all the passion dissipated, maybe he and Cassie could become friends again.

  A sudden vision invaded him, of Cassie sitting in the bar, laughing while she leaned into another man whose arm encircled her possessively. He'd be the man to take her home, away from Mike; the one who would strip off her clothes and make love to her.

  It hit him like a physical blow to the gut, and he reeled from the pain. No!

  Another man? Someone else touching her?

  No! No! No!

  Turning away from the bed, he leaned against the wall, smacking it over and over with one fist as he fought to silence the agony.

  After a few minutes, he regained a fragile hold on his emotions. Needing air, he opened the French doors and stepped out onto the balcony. He didn't notice Puget Sound stretching before him, or the tangy salt air blowing across the grounds. All he could see was the sailboat he and Cass'd used earlier, bobbing without a care at the end of the pier.

  He'd never sailed before. He'd never thought he'd like it, but under Cassie's expert guidance, he'd actually found it to be an intoxicating experience. He could see himself owning a boat like that someday, skimming across the waves. But there the image faded. Because he couldn't see himself out there on the water like that without Cassie by his side.

  Closing his eyes, he rubbed his fist across his chest. Could he actually go through with this, if mere packing tore him apart? How could he recover?

  How could he live without her?

  He didn't have a choice. They weren't right together. Nothing in their past gave them a chance for a future. Failed marriages, different backgrounds. Hell, she'd been a high-powered attorney, hobnobbing with CEO's, politicians, people who made the nation's policies and economics. What did they have in common, after all?

  Again, the sailboat grabbed his attention. He'd discovered a liking for one of her activities, maybe there were more they could share? And other things they could discover together?

  Uninvited, images of her making love to him danced through his head. She'd been so responsive, inventive and uninhibited. The way her eyes rolled back in her head, and the tiny little gasps she'd made; he'd never experienced something so erotic yet so innocent at the same time.

  It hadn't been simply sex. He'd never felt that level of belonging with anyone before. As if they shared the same blood, the same breath.

  I'm in love with you. He could still hear her voice, filled with passion and need, saying those words to him. But could he believe her? He didn't think she'd been lying, but was it truly love or a passion that would fade quickly? Could his darling Cassie, falling in and out of love all her life, actually know what true love felt like?

  He sure as hell did. He just wished he could be sure about her.

  He knew her so well. He understood that her quirky little half-smile meant she'd come up with a scheme that wouldn't sit well with him, that a tiny shoulder shrug meant something bothered her but she wanted him to figure out what. If her fingers twirled her hair, she was bored and no longer following the conversation or event. And if she closed her eyes and her luscious lips twisted into that delicious little smile, so full of mischief, watch out, world! The Delistraty penchant for trouble would burst out soon.

  He wondered if, after being lovers, they could e
ver go back to being only friends. He hoped so; he'd miss her otherwise. Hell, he missed her already. But friends? Well, any crumbs are better than starving, right?

  Then his earlier vision of Cass leaning against that other guy, obviously her lover, returned, and jealousy kicked him hard. No, scratch the ‘friend’ idea. He'd probably end up pummeling the guy just for looking at her.

  Maybe he could move to Timbuktu.

  "Enjoying the view?"

  Glancing down, Mike saw Stuart Delistraty standing on the smooth concrete path below, his hands firmly holding onto a walker. Even with that evidence of his frailty, he still exuded a power and strength Mike could only guess at.

  "It's great,” he said, not wanting to encourage a long conversation, but not wanting to be rude.

  "Yes, that it is.” Stuart gazed out onto the water, then looked back up at Mike. “Sometimes I forget how blessed I am to have all of this. One of the greatest sins a man can make is taking for granted all the blessings he's been given. Like family, for instance."

  His eyes held a challenge in them. Mike didn't feel like picking up the gauntlet, whatever it might be, so he remained silent.

  "My granddaughter. She's quite a woman, much more than I'd hoped for. Bright, feisty, with a heart of gold. It's going to take a special person to understand all of that and find a way to enhance her, not drag her down or try to turn her into something she's not."

  "You should tell her this, not me."

  Stuart smiled. “I still have hopes that she and her brother will want to become true Delistraty's, for all that name means. A little disapproval, a bit of strife, helps them both reach a little higher."

  Despite his scowls and hard stares, Stuart was a fraud. But no matter. Mike didn't plan on sticking around long enough to understand the true man.

  "Is there a point to this conversation, Judge?” Damn, he sounded curt, but right now Mike didn't care. He simply wanted to finish packing and head home.

  "Of course there is. I'm not one to waste my time. And I don't want to see anyone wasting my granddaughter's time, or using her to further themselves. You're a businessman. In fact, I hear that you're an ambitious man, planning on expanding your club."

  "And this is a problem?"

  Stuart shook his head. “Not in itself, no. But the Delistraty name is a powerful thing, and you wouldn't be the first man to play on that.” He gazed at Mike, no doubt taking in the sharp anger Mike felt rising up inside him. “I don't know you well enough to gauge your motives, but take this as a sign that I'm watching you.” With a nod, Stuart picked up the walker and with a determined gesture, moved it down the path.

  With a stifled curse, Mike went back into his suite. The red walls slammed into his anger, fuelling it. He'd never use Cassie like that. Ernie's request came to mind, but he dismissed it. If they couldn't finagle that location on its own merits, then they were better off looking somewhere else. Sure, it would be a blow, but they'd recover.

  A knock sounded on his door. He knew instinctively that it was Cassie. Cursing his leaping heart, he twisted his face into what he thought would represent a neutral facade, then left the balcony and crossed to the door.

  The knock sounded again; he laid his palm on the wood, feeling her on the other side. His pulse fluttered and that damn rock in his chest gained weight. Eyes closing, he heaved a sigh. If she could affect him this strongly by simply being near, how could he hope to withstand her in the same room?

  Jerking open the door, he kept his face impassive as his eyes feasted on her. She'd clipped her hair into a soft ponytail on the top of her head, leaving a few curls cascading down her neck. She'd obviously been crying; her eyes were reddened with faint smudges of mascara under her naked bottom lashes. Her cheeks were pale and her lips, barren of lipstick, couldn't hold onto the smile with which she greeted him.

  "Hi,” she said. Even her voice sounded tear-laden. Damn it, he wanted to whisk her into his arms and wipe away that sadness. But at what sacrifice for both of them?

  He couldn't bear to see her like this, so bereft. Yet did he see hope deep in her jewel-toned eyes?

  "Are you alone? I thought I heard voices."

  He didn't want to discuss her grandfather with her. “There's nobody in here but me,” he said. “So what brings you by?” He hoped he'd kept his tone jovial. From the look on her face, a mixture of pain and misery, he'd failed miserably.

  "I thought we could talk some more,” she said. Her voice, husky and sounding brittle, barely reached him.

  "Cass.” Sucking in a deep breath, he knew he needed to keep his distance from her, to force home the point he'd made earlier, that they weren't right for each other. But her eyes pleaded with him, and he caved.

  "Come in,” he said, standing aside for her to enter. She walked past him, and he noted that her feet were bare, an unusual state for her, considering her love of fancy and usually lethal footwear.

  Shuddering under the effort to control his reaction to her, but not wanting anyone to see Cassie upset, Mike shut the door. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from reaching out to her. Her perfume, though faint, grabbed at him, reminding him of making love to her, when that same scent had mated with the aura of their passion. Would he ever be able to smell that fragrance without being thrown right back into that bed with her?

  He turned from the door to face her, but she wasn't looking at him. Instead, she stared at his duffel bag. Her back stiffened and she stepped away as if she'd been struck.

  Damn, he could feel the pain radiating off of her. Her face angled toward him; fresh tears pooled in her eyes.

  "You're leaving?” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Were you even going to say goodbye?"

  Would he have? “I hadn't thought it out that far. I thought it would be better if I made myself scarce."

  One glittering drop escaped; she wiped it away impatiently. “Good for whom? Not for me. When did you become such a coward?"

  His control jangled at her question. “I'm not running away, Cass. I thought you'd need some time to work through things."

  "Really?” He could hear the anger in her words, anger that would spill over onto him at the slightest provocation. “What happened to your great plan to keep my mother and Ernie's horny daughter at bay?” She glanced at the duffel bag again, and her face tightened. “I certainly had you pegged wrong all these years. Never thought you'd run from a challenge, or judge someone unfairly. Like you're doing to me now."

  Ouch. She certainly didn't pull any punches. “How'd I misjudge you?"

  She crossed to the window and stared out over the water. One elegant hand fingered the sheer drapes contained by a silken tasseled rope. She didn't turn back to him, instead tossing her words over one shoulder like so much debris.

  "You decided that I'm fickle, that I can't sustain any feelings for anyone long term. I can't really blame you there. I'd kind of jumped to the same conclusion. But what if I was wrong, Mike? What if you're wrong, and I'm capable of a love that would last until the day I die?

  "What if I told you that I've loved you since that first kiss so many years ago, and that every attempt I've made at relationships since then failed not because I was fickle, but because you still laid claim to most of my heart?” She glanced back at him. “Would that change your perception of me?"

  Those sparkling eyes tossed a challenge at him: I dare you to find out. “Give us a chance. One month. That's all I ask. Let me show you how much I love you."

  He couldn't look away. Like a tiny flame, the idea burned its way into his heart, and he savored her words, running them through his mind to weight their validity. Could that have been the case? Had they both felt that pull of attraction, that touching of the souls so long ago and been under each other's influence since then? Because he knew, if he'd be honest with himself, that he'd never quite recovered from that passionate yet innocent kiss she'd given him eleven years ago.

  Part of him held back. If he believed her, then he'd be risking his hea
rt, or what remained of it. But could he gain even more of it back? Wouldn't even a tiny slice of time with this wonderful woman who invigorated him, who helped him break out of his rut and truly enjoy life, be worth any risk?

  As he crossed to her, he slammed his mind's door shut on any nagging doubt. Pulling one hand out of his pocket, he stroked his fingertips over her satin-smooth cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut, and she leaned into his hand as if craving his touch. She reached up and cupped the back of his neck. The contact seared through him, lighting every nerve on fire.

  Hell, how'd he think he could leave her? What a fool he'd been! He could no more leave her than he could stop breathing.

  He pulled her into his arms, holding her, letting her body heat seep into him. The heavy weight in his chest disappeared.

  "I believe you, Cass.” Then he kissed her, and she sobbed against his mouth, a tiny sound of joy that he'd remember forever.

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  Chapter Nine

  "How about over there?” Navigating through the thick Independence Day crowd, Mike pointed to a rare vacant spot on the grass, but Cassie shook her head. Although they were nearly three hours early, finding somewhere to sit presented a challenge. Ever optimistic, Cassie hoped for a better spot.

  Swinging a canvas bag filled with snacks and a few cans of pop, she nodded toward the large hill in the park's center. A huge balloon bust of the Statue of Liberty crowned the hill, glowing from lights highlighting its beautiful profile.

  "I want to get on the other side of the hill,” she told him. “It's usually better viewing over there. They always put on a show, with parachutists, lights and things like that. You can't see that from here."

  She glanced over her shoulder to make sure they hadn't lost Cal and Lucia, but they were only a few feet behind them. Lucia, decked out in a short, fringed black skirt and flaming red peasant blouse, could easily pass as Cassie's more flamboyant older sister. In fact, compared to Cassie's own white camisole and pink floral skirt complimented with strappy pink cotton and rattan sandals, Lucia definitely made the stronger statement.