“Really? I’m impressed. Do you have your own by-line? Would I have read anything you’ve written?”
“Probably not.” Having told him her profession, she didn’t want to go any further. At this point, it was best if she kept his knowledge about her to a bare minimum. She had learned at least one thing about him. Beneath all that lazy charm and boylike dreaminess, he was tenacious. The less he knew the better.
“What about your life outside the office? Your family?”
She shook her head. “I’d rather not talk about that.”
“Why not?”
“It’s too personal.”
He put his hands on her shoulders. She didn’t react. He waited, willing her to look up at him. Slowly she lifted her head, her gray eyes cautious. “And what we did last night wasn’t personal?” he asked gently.
She stepped away from him, unwilling to risk another one of his kisses. Her concentration scattered, she forced herself to focus on the shelf in front of her and a cast-iron fire-fighting pull toy that consisted of two galloping horses hauling a wagon with a large hose wheel. The plaque read 1895. Curiosity got the better of her, and she touched the wheel. It moved.
“You can take it down if you like. These toys may be antiques, but you can still play with them.”
“I’m too old to be playing with toys.” And so was he, her tone of voice implied. She felt her back warm as he came up behind her. The heat emanating from his body blocked common sense and acted as some kind of weird truth serum - before she knew it, words came tumbling out of her mouth. “My family consists of my brother. My father left us after my brother was born. My mother died when my brother was eight.” She stopped, appalled that she had said so much more than she had intended.
“You have a brother. Great. What’s his name? How old is he?”
She wasn’t looking at him, but she could smell his scent. Was it a light, citrus-spiked aftershave? Whatever, it made her think of how his hard body had felt against hers as he had held her last night and pressed her against him. Before she could stop herself, more information erupted from her. “His name is Bobby, and he’s sixteen.”
“I’d like to meet him.”
Protecting and guarding Bobby had been her job practically from the day he was born. On that day, their father had left home, and too soon after the birth, their mother had had to go to work. Cassidy had kept all her dates away from the house in order to shield Bobby. The exception was the man she had fallen for when she was in college. She hadn’t wanted Bobby to become too attached to any of those men and get hurt when the relationship didn’t work out. “He stays pretty busy, what with school and basketball - ”
“Does he have a game tomorrow night?”
“No,” she said, anticipating he might want to go.
“Good, then I can meet him when I pick you up for dinner.”
She hadn’t even seen the trap. She turned, her eyes wide with annoyance. “I haven’t eaten so much as a cookie with you. What makes you think I’m going to have dinner with you?”
He grinned and lightly touched her cheek. “I guess I’m just an optimistic kind of guy.”
The man was definitely dangerous. She forced a smile. “Let’s return to the subject of your toy company, shall we? I’d really like to know more.”
“Sure. But first, why don’t we go back and sit down and have some of Lily’s hot chocolate? She’ll be crushed if you don’t at least take a few sips of it.”
She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and glared at him. “You said you’d tell me anything I wanted to know.”
“Where did that accusing tone come from? You’re acting as if this is an interview. Is that what it is?”
“No, of course not,” she said quickly, and felt a pang of guilt at lying. Why on earth couldn’t she maintain her objectivity?
He framed her face between his two big hands and leaned down to her. “Cassidy, I’ll talk to you until the sun comes up, on any subject you choose, especially if it’s about me, because to my way of thinking that means you’re as interested in me as I am about you.”
The guilt grew stronger. She was deceiving him, leading him to believe she could grow to care for him - she stopped herself mid-thought. Or was she deceiving him? Could it be possible she was already well on her way to caring for him? The very idea was paralyzing.
He nudged her in the direction of the couch. “Then come on. I want to finish my hot chocolate and have a cookie or two. I haven’t had my fix for today.”
Those twinkling eyes of his were going to be the death of her, she thought, rather dazed. Back at the couch, she reached for her mug and drank. The chocolate was still hot and fortifying. Zach was a grown man whose fondness for toys went beyond his business - surely not the most dependable type of person. And she absolutely couldn’t be falling for him, and what’s more she wouldn’t let it happen.
Out of the corner of her eye she saw him munching on a cookie. Crumbs clung to the side of his mouth, making him look as adorable as a little boy. Her heart softened. Well, hell. “Your company is privately owned, isn't it?”
“Yes, it’s all mine. Have a cookie.” He held one out to her, and she had no choice but to take a bite. “Good, huh?”
“Very good,” she admitted, chewing. “Now, you started the company right out of school, didn’t you?”
He chuckled. “Cassidy, you’re asking me questions that you apparently, already know the answers to.”
She groaned inwardly. He was right. A rank amateur could do a better job of getting information out of him than she was doing. But he had a way of upsetting her pulses, not to mention rearranging her mind. Reflecting on her problem, she took a drink of the hot chocolate, and then set the mug on the cocktail table. Tomorrow, she’d start tracking down all the financial information she could on him…
He leaned toward her and kissed her, stunning her with the gentleness and the unexpect- edness of the move. His mouth brushed hers, then his tongue skimmed the outline of her lips. Heat flared in her stomach, clouds drifted into her brain. His taste was sweet and sensual, a combination of cookies and hard arousal. She’d never known anything like it and eagerly strained against him, kissing him back.
He lifted his head before she was ready, but he kept his mouth a breath above hers. “You had a hot chocolate moustache,” he explained, his voice low and rough edged. “It's gone now.”
“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything else to say. No man had ever kissed a hot chocolate moustache off her lip before. She searched her mind for another question she could ask, something that would help her find out what was going on in his company, something that would get her mind off the shockingly eager way she had just responded to him.
But then he kissed her again, pushing her backward onto the couch pillows and easing over the top of her.
He really hadn’t brought her here to seduce her, he thought, and he didn’t plan to now. But her femininity undid him. And watching her all evening without touching her had been torture.
Everything he was growing to love about her she did unconsciously. He was fascinated by her guarded questions, amused by her disdain for his toys, captivated by the way she responded to his embrace.
He craved her - it was as simple as that.
Thrusting his tongue deep into her mouth, he was rewarded by the touch of hers. Then her arms slipped around his neck and her fingers threaded up into his hair. With a shudder, he pushed her T-shirt up and closed his hand around her breast. Her nipple tightened and pearled in his palm. Blood rushed hotly to his head; excitement pounded through him at a dizzying speed. He heard her make a soft little sound, felt her shiver and lift her hips against him. At the contact, heated desire stabbed through him with bone-searing force.
He couldn’t wait any longer to sample her sweetness. His arms corded as he supported himself and bent his head to her delectable breasts and their nipples. He circled one hard, pink point with his tongue, then drew it into his mouth and sucked. Rivers
of fire braided through his stomach and down into his groin, and he knew his control was in grave danger of slipping its leash. He returned to her mouth, kissing her again and again.
She was drowning in an ocean of sensual pleasure, and she didn’t want to be saved. His mouth had awakened nerves all over her body and taken her past the point where she controlled anything, much less her own responses. Her senses were being swamped by feelings, each one more powerful than the last. And Lord help her she wanted more.
His body was hard and hurting. She was all heat and silky softness and pliable willingness. He wanted her so much, he was half-crazy with it.
But she wasn't his yet.
The thought hammered in his brain, demand- ing his attention. It was a painful thought, an almost unacceptable one - and it wouldn’t go away.
Reluctantly, he lessened the pressure of the kiss until he could make himself break fully away from her. Then, knowing he couldn’t continue to lie over her without taking her, he straightened and combed shaking hands through his hair.
She sat up slowly, her expression confused, her eyes still glazed with the desire he had created inside her. “Why did you stop?”
He turned his head and looked at her. “Because,” he said huskily, “you never would have forgiven me if I hadn’t. You're not ready.”
The next morning, Cassidy gave a desultory spin to a pencil and watched it twirl around and around on her desk, unaware of the curious glances from her co-workers. From the time she left college she had been able to handle men. She had received her education about the opposite sex from Gerald Merrick, the man she had fallen in love with and had dreamed of marrying. He had let her down badly, and since that time she had dated only when it was convenient for her, and had never again entertained the idea of becoming serious about a man.
But now Zach Bennett had come into her life. And she didn’t have a clue what to do about the way she reacted to him. It was as if she had some strange strain of flu that made her weak beneath his kisses and feverish at his touch.
Whatever it was, this morning she was having to face the shattering truth that she would have made love with him if he hadn’t stopped.
The phone rang and she reached for it, wondering where she could get a vaccination for the Zach Bennett flu. “Cassidy Stuart.”
There was a sneeze. Then, “There’ll be no more meetings. I'm through trying.”
“Give me one more chance. I promise I won’t mess up.”
“No way.” He sneezed again. “You’re too close to Bennett, and he scares me. Good-bye.”
“Wait! Don’t hang up. Hello?” The line went dead. “Damn!” She replaced the receiver and stared at it. He was scared of Zach. Why? Did he think Zach was secretly involved in a plan to sell his own product? She supposed it wouldn’t be the first time the head of a company sold something under the table for quick cash. And if he were overextended and needed capital, this would be a lot of quick cash that could go straight into his pocket without his having to pay taxes on it. She supposed it was even possible the product might be insured in some way.
She didn’t want to think Zach was capable of doing such a thing. She almost couldn’t believe it. But she also couldn’t get past the fact that this man, whoever he was, was afraid of Zach - who had twice intercepted her as she was about to meet her informant. Until this moment, she had forgotten last night’s resolve to look into the financial status of both Bennett Toys and Zach. For some reason that had nothing to do with professionalism, she really didn’t want to delve into Zach’s personal affairs behind his back. But on the other hand, a major theft such as this one in a local company would affect a great many people, and she didn’t feel as though she could simply forget the story.
The phone rang again and she eagerly answered. “Cassidy Stuart.”
“I just wanted to make sure you remembered that I’m picking you up tonight at seven-thirty.”
“Zach?”
“You sound funny. Who were you expecting?”
“No one.” Another lie. She had hoped it would be her contact calling her back.
“Are you having a good day?”
She looked at the pencil. “Great, simply great.”
“Good, then I’ll see you tonight.”
“Tonight?” she asked, her mind disturbingly blank.
“Tonight. Seven-thirty.”
“No, wait - ” The line went dead. Cassidy stared at the receiver, feeling a sense of deja vu. Everyone seemed to be hanging up on her today.
At seven-thirty that evening, when the doorbell rang, Cassidy was still in the bathtub. Annoyed that she was running late and Zach was on time, she threw the washrag into the water. Why did that stupid Mickey Mouse watch have to work so well?
“Bobby,” she yelled. “Answer the door, then go do your homework.”
“Okay,” he yelled back.
Quickly she climbed out of the tub and toweled off, then went into her room and began to sort through the clothes in the closet. She had no idea what to wear since she didn’t know where they were going, but she eliminated everything red and finally chose a silky ivory skirt and blouse.
She was dreading this evening with Zach. She hated duplicity of any kind, especially her own. And she didn’t like the way her intelligence and resolve deserted her whenever she was around him. But one way or the other, she seemed to have committed herself to this date, and she was determined to make the best of it. The financial data she had requested on Zach hadn’t come back yet. She would keep her wits about her tonight and take every chance she could to get more information.
With Lily in mind, she carefully applied her makeup and combed her hair. Heaven forbid Lily should have more cause for complaint. Then bracing herself, she left her room.
A small monster truck with big fat wheels whizzed by her toes as she stepped into the living room.
“Wow, look at that baby go,” Bobby said gleefully, sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding the remote control unit to the car.
“Yeah,” Zach said, sitting beside him, his large frame folded into the same position, “and wait until you see what this one does.” Using the remote control unit in his hands, he stopped a small blue race car, pushed a button, and popped the hood.
“Awesome,” Bobby said.
Zach nodded his head. “Yeah.”
“What’s going on here?”
Bobby glanced up, a smile wreathing his face. “Look what Zach brought me, Cass. Not only do the headlights work, but the turn signals do too,” he said, happily demonstrating the fact.
Anger began simmering, low and furious in her. “I told you to answer the door, then go to your room and do your homework.”
“Yeah, but - ”
“No buts. I have half a mind to ground you, young man.”
“Cass, I’ve already done my homework.”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point, Cassidy?” Zach asked quietly from his position on the floor. “Didn't you want him to get to know me?”
His pinpoint-accurate assessment of the truth made her more than a little uncomfortable. “I certainly didn't want you to try to bribe him with - with toys. Besides, he’s way too old for toys anyway.”
“Aw, Cass - ”
“It’s all right, Bobby,” Zach said, his tone mild. “I see the problem. She thinks these cars are regular toys, when they’re not at all.”
She frowned. “Of course they are.”
He shook his head firmly. “Actually they're educational toys, great for teaching physics. For instance, a bigger object has the potential to do more work or have more energy than a smaller object. But a moving object has more energy than a still object.” He set his little race car in motion toward the larger truck. “Watch carefully,” he said, deliberately crashing the race car into the truck and sending the truck rolling. “And now you see a practical example of the law that says energy is neither used up nor destroyed. So when the car hit the truck it gave it some of it
s energy.”
“Awesome,” Bobby said.
Cassidy crossed her arms over her chest. “Sneaky, Zach. Very sneaky.”
She stayed angry at herself all evening for getting so uptight over Zach's gifts of the remote control cars. She had acted as if he had given Bobby a do-it-yourself atomic bomb kit. Despite her resolutions, she had once again overreacted to something Zach had done. And it was time she did something about it or got out of this situation completely.
They had dinner at a small, quaint restaurant, and at her suggestion ended up at his house for coffee. He had been surprised at her suggestion - in a way so had she - but his house was full of clues about the real Zach, whom she needed to know so much more about.
“I made those,” Zach said, indicating with a wave of his hand the wooden toys on yet another set of shelves in his living room. “And they’re arranged chronologically. The first I made when I was about four years old. The last one on the shelf I finished two weeks ago.”
He walked over and took the first toy off the shelf. It consisted of a small square block of wood set atop a larger, more rectangular block of wood with four wooden wheels, all held together with dowels. But it was definitely a car.
“You made that? It’s wonderful.”
He grinned. “I had help and inspiration from the handyman who worked part time on my father’s estate. He was an old man named Henry, and he always had plenty of time and patience for me. Practically from the time I could walk, I'd follow him around with big round eyes, watching him fix and put together things with his tools. I wanted to be just like him.”
She turned so that she could see his face. “You didn’t want to be like your father?”
“My father was and is a good man. He’s retired now, and he and Mother still live on the estate. But he was a banker. When I was growing up, he worked away from the house, and I could never see any actual product of his work. I could with Henry’s work. He taught me all the basics, and I took it from there.” He replaced the little car.
Her eyes went to the last toy on the shelf, an intricately carved and complicated pulley system. “I’d say that was an understatement. Henry would be proud of you.”
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