Call Me Casanova, Book Two: An Affair to Forget

by D. C. Chagnon

  “Why did you want to discuss the merger with Gregory?” she asked. “He isn't part of this. Any of it.”

  Abbott gazed at her with what strangely resembled pity. “You don't like Gregory.”

  Cassandra started to speak, then sighed and went silent for a moment before trying again. “It isn't about whether or not I like him, daddy.” she said quietly. “I just don't see the point of involving him. If Preston and Nigel wished for him to be consulted, they would have mentioned it and included him in the meetings.”

  “So you feel he has nothing to contribute?”

  “No,” she admitted. “I don't. Gregory, he's . . . well, he's a playboy, daddy. He doesn't have a sense of responsibility. And I'm not saying that makes him a bad person. I know you like him. But it does make him a poor choice when it comes to business matters.”

  Abbott went silent, his eyes thoughtful, then offered softly, “Sometimes, darling, there's more to a man than meets the eye. Even the most irresponsible of men can often find their way if someone will have a little faith in them.”

  What was he getting at? What did he care really what she thought of Gregory?

  ___________________

  Though he hadn't deliberately listened in on Cassandra's and Abbott's conversation, he couldn't help but overhear enough tidbits to confirm his suspicion; Cassandra viewed him in the same dull light as his father and Preston. She would fit in quite nicely.

  “Abbott.” When he announced his presence, Cassandra tensed visibly and stood. Gregory smiled dryly, his eyes heavy as they raked boldly over her body, causing her all the discomfort as he intended. “Ms. Kirkland.”

  She simply nodded and kept her eyes averted. “I'll leave you two to your privacy,” she murmured.

  “Please.” Gregory cocked his head a bit and lifted an eyebrow. “Don't leave on my account.”

  “I have matters to attend to.” An obvious lie, but he let her have it. She couldn't avoid him indefinitely; he would see to that.

  “Then by all means.” He motioned down the path that would lead her out of the garden.

  She turned her attention to her father. “I'll talk to you in a bit, daddy.”

  “All right, darling.” Abbott smiled, then winked at Gregory. “You leave me in capable hands.”

  Gregory didn't miss the slight scoff as she passed by. He chuckled, amused. Ah, such a different woman in the light of day. His crotch twitched in longing for the sexual goddess who had graced his bed last night and let him take her as he so desired. A formidable pulse shot through his cock, causing it to grow inside his pants as he recalled with a quickening pulse the extreme tightness and heat of her lovely ass, the soft rounded cheeks that pressed against his pelvis as he had buried himself to her very depths.

  Shit. Clear your mind, man. You're in the company of her father, for crying out loud.

  “Walk with me.” Abbott stood up slowly, not without a measure of effort. Gregory offered him a hand, but the older man just smiled and shook his head. “I still have a little left in me. I'd like to do for myself for as long as my body permits.”

  Nodding, Gregory smiled. “I understand.” He watched the man straighten up to his full height and hold his straight posture, though it was clearly an effort. Abbott Kirkland was an admirable man, and Gregory favored the idea of growing into such a man as him. Though he had his doubts, regardless of what Abbott believed.

  The two walked a path through the garden that opened out onto the hard packed road that led down to the stables. A long stretch of white board fence ran the length of the road, and Abbott approached the fence and rested his arms on the top rail. His thoughtful eyes followed two lean-bodied blood bay horses as they cantered gracefully side by side, seemingly in perfect sync.

  “Beautiful animals,” Abbott murmured.

  Gregory leaned on the fence beside the man. “Wouldn't know those two are incompatible, would you?” His lips pressed into a tight line, voice lowering. “They seem like the perfect match.”

  “They don't get along?”

  Gregory smiled. “They're trained to get along, but the mare, the one closest to us . . .” he sighed and smirked. “She is fond of Wiley. Wild at Heart, his registered name.”

  “Is he . . . wild at heart?” Abbott seemed amused.

  “Indeed.” Gregory chuckled. “A good ole boy but a bit unpredictable. Has a tendency to disobey now and again, usually at the most inopportune times.” He shook his head slowly and watched the two horses, his smile slowly fading as he murmured, “But she has fun with him; you can see it. It's as if, when they're out there together, turned loose, she can just be herself and go wild.”

  Abbott nodded slowly, and Gregory could feel his eyes on him. “What do you think of this merger between your father and I?” he asked suddenly, then added, “And the marriage of my daughter and your brother?”

  Rubbing his mouth, Gregory shook his head. “I don't really know anything about it. I'm not exactly kept in the loop.”

  “How would you describe your father?” Abbott asked. “As a business man?”

  Gregory nudged the short cropped grass with the toe of his shoe and straightened up. “I don't really think I'm the one you should be asking.” He sighed. “I'm not close to my family and, in truth, may be a little biased against them. So . . . perhaps you should ask someone more objective.”

  “I'm asking you because you're honest, Gregory,” Abbott said. “You don't pretend to be something you're not or try to defend a family that I am sure has rarely, if ever, done right by you. But regardless of how you feel about them, I know you will give me an honest answer, even if it means casting a positive light on the ones who push you aside.”

  A tightness pinched his chest; how did this man look at him and see a totally different man than everyone else saw, including his own daughter? “You don't think I would lie about them?”

  “No, Gregory. I don't.”

  A deep breath pushed out of him. “I think . . . my father is a hell of a businessman. Preston too. They keep our family in the lap of luxury anyway.” He shrugged. “Of course, I couldn't tell you exactly how they go about it.”

  “Do you question their business ethics?”

  Gregory hesitated. “Let’s just say . . . I wouldn't bet my life on their ethics.”

  Nodding slowly, Abbott watched the horses. “And my daughter's marriage to Preston?” he asked quietly. “Do you think they're a good match?”

  I think they're like the horses, he thought. Trained to get along but not truly compatible.

  “I couldn't really say,” Gregory replied. “I've only known Cassandra less than two days. And honestly I couldn't give you an unbiased opinion of my brother.”

  “You don't think he would make a good husband?”

  Gregory shrugged. “I guess it depends on what a woman is looking for in a husband. If it's financial stability, then yes, he would be the best bet.” He looked at Abbott. “For your purposes, I think he will do just fine.” A sudden anger simmering inside, Gregory pushed back from the fence and walked to the road, confused by the rush of emotion.

  “You're upset with me.” The older man wasn't asking a question.

  Pausing at the edge of the road, Gregory stood with his back to the man, hands stuffed in the pockets of his pants. “No, sir.” he said quietly.

  Abbott approached and rested his hand on Gregory's shoulder. “Don't start lying to me now, son.”

  Staring at the ground, brow tight, Gregory struggled to sort out his sudden jumbled feelings. What was wrong with him? Why had he gotten angry? Whatever the source, it faded when he glanced at Abbott. The man's eyes resonated concern, and he knew he had a real friend in Abbott Kirkland. “I'm not upset with you,” he whispered. “None of this is any of my business. You're doing what is necessary to make certain Cassandra is taken care of after you're gone.” He turned his eyes away and gazed up towards the manor. “She's very fortunate to have a father who cares so much.”

  Abbott stepped o
nto the road and motioned towards the manor. “Shall we?”

  They took their time, Abbott's steps a bit slower than when they had walked down here. He was clearly becoming exhausted. Gregory's jaw tightened, an ache winding up and stinging his eyes. He would feel the loss on a deep level when Abbott was gone.

  “She told you to call her Cassandra?” Abbott spoke up, a somewhat amused tone to his voice.

  “She said she preferred it, but that I could call her Cassandra or Eleonore, whichever I preferred.”

  Abbott chuckled softly. “Yes, she was never too fond of the name Eleonore.” His eyes grew distant. “Her mother's name was Cassandra. Perhaps that is why I prefer Eleonore. To call her by her mother's name brings back too many memories . . . still hurts too much.”

  “What happened to her mother?” Gregory asked quietly.

  A light gloss filmed over the older man's eyes. “She was born with a weak spot in her heart.” His voice strained with emotion. “She had a massive heart attack when Eleonore was twelve. She died instantly.” His face tightened and throat worked. “No time to even say goodbye. When Eleonore went to school that morning, her mother was fine and well. And she was gone when she came home.” He cleared his throat. “She was devastated. She never really got over it. And now . . . I'll be gone soon as well.”

  Gregory wasn't aware of the swelling tears until the road began to swim before him.

  “I don't want her to be alone, Gregory.” He spoke low, thick. “Maybe I'm going about it all wrong, but she needs someone there for her when . . . I go. I don't want her to have to go through that alone.”

  Shaking his head, Gregory murmured, “You don't have to explain your motives to me, Abbott. I'm not judging your decisions.” He emitted a short, dry laugh. “I'm hardly one to judge another for their choices anyway. I'm not sure I ever made a wise decision in my life. I'm a grade-A, number-one fuck-up. I'm hardly qualified to question the actions of a man such as yourself.”

  Abbott smiled. “You're too hard on yourself, son. So you're a little wild right now. You'll figure things out in time.”

  Had he been raised by this man, Gregory wondered how much more together he would be at this point in his life. He suddenly understood Cassandra's desire to please her father, even when it went against all that she wanted for herself.

  Gregory realized he would do anything for Abbott . . . even if it meant casting away his own happiness.

  Chapter Five: Parting Of Ways

  “Where is my father?” Cassandra sat up on the edge of the cushioned chaise lounge chair near the edge of the pool. Gregory approached, shirtless, a towel slung loosely around his neck and wearing a pair of long, blue, silk shorts.

  Dropping the towel on the ground, he untied the string on the waistband of the shorts. “He's resting.”

  “Is he all right?” Concern squeezed Cassandra's voice, worry piercing her heart. She started to stand up, but Gregory nodded.

  “He's fine,” he said. “Just a little tired from our walk.”

  She sank back down on the edge of the lounger as her eyes settled helplessly on his hands as they finished untying the string. His thumbs hooked in the waistband, and he shoved the shorts down, letting them drop to his ankles as he stepped out of them. Cassandra's eyes widened a bit and briefly locked on his black speedo which squeezed his crotch tight enough to distinctly define his goods.

  A soft chuckle snapped her eyes up to his face. “Thought you might appreciate my new . . . swimsuit.”

  “You call that a swimsuit?” The notable rasp in her voice caused her to cringe.

  Grinning, he slid his thumbs around the underside of the waistband that barely reached above his cock. “Indeed.” he smirked and turned towards the pool, her eyes jumping to his ass. Though covered, for the most part, the tight briefs sucked against his cheeks, outlining his hard, flexing glute muscles.

  “You should join me for a swim,” he said without looking at her. He stepped to the edge of the pool. “Cool your fever.” He smirked, then dove into the water.

  Cassandra watched him swim deep, then surface quickly, swiping his hands over his hair, then wiping the water from his face. “Water feels great.”

  Standing, Cassandra said, “I'll take your word for it.” When she started to walk away, Gregory climbed out of the pool and stepped in front of her, his dripping, nearly naked body wreaking havoc on her senses.

  “Come on, Cassi,” he grinned. “Take a swim with me.” Dark mischief sparkled in his eyes. “If you want, we can skinny-dip.”

  Moaning inwardly, Cassandra forced herself not to jump the man. “We had an agreement, Gregory,” she reminded. “Or did you forget?”

  He chuckled and shrugged. “Seems to me that agreement was annulled last night.”

  “No,” Cassandra objected. “It wasn't. Last night was . . . a mistake.”

  Gregory raised his eyebrows. “Now I'm suffering deja vu. I believe you said that yesterday about the previous night.”

  Cassandra groaned and sighed heavily. “Gregory.”

  “So let me get this straight,” he said. “Whenever you decide you want to fuck, then the rules don't apply. But when I want it, they remain in effect?” He clucked his tongue. “How convenient for you.”

  “That isn't that way it is.” Cassandra insisted. But wasn’t that how she had played it out?

  “Then how is it, darling?” he drawled. “Please explain it to me again.”

  Cassandra shook her head. “This isn't a game, Gregory.”

  “Really?” he smiled coolly. “So you weren't just playing with me last night?”

  “I told you.” Cassandra said, growing frustrated. “Last night was a mistake—” She yelped sharply when he suddenly scooped her into his arms and then launched them off the edge of the pool into the water. She gasped and clung to his neck reflexively; then she was suddenly loose in the water, beneath the surface, swimming towards it. She gasped again and wiped her clinging hair from her face, coughing. “Damn you, Gregory!”

  He was behind her in an instant, hands on her hips, body pressed to hers. She could easily feel his hard arousal nudging her back side through her wet clothes. Warm, wet lips nuzzled her ear. “Ever fuck in a pool?” he whispered.

  Her heart stuttered, then raced wildly, causing her breath to stagger in her throat. “Gregory, I'm not . . .” She swallowed thick when he kissed the skin below her ear, then teased her earlobe with his tongue. “. . . doing that.” She bit her lip to stifle the moan swelling up. “It's the middle of the day . . . and my father—”

  “Your father is asleep by now,” he murmured. “And if the daylight bothers you, then shall we reconvene here tonight?”

  Cassandra pressed back against him without meaning to, yet the heat of his bare skin beckoned her, pulling her to him. “No.” She trembled without conviction. “I told you we can't do this—” A small, sharp gasp erupted up her throat when he spun her around and pushed her against the edge of the pool, pinning her with his body. Her heart raced as his mouth followed hers as she attempted to evade his kiss. “Gregory, please . . .”

  “Well, since you asked so nicely,” he whispered, then moved in for the kill.

  “I wasn't asking.” A sudden moan swelled fast and thick in her throat as his lips grabbed her mouth, almost forceful at first, but then softening with sensuality. Her lashes fluttered, and she leaned into it, her fingertips brushing against his bare stomach beneath the lightly heated water. His hard crotch pushed against her, and then he was gripping her ass, lifting her up and pulling her legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss.

  A static whimper escaped her when he began to grind his crotch against hers with just enough force to let her feel how strongly he hungered for her. Cassandra's arms went around his neck, and her legs tightened as she rolled her hips against him. His strong fingertips dug into her ass cheeks through her pants as they simulated fucking one another.

  “Come to my room.” His lips dragged from her mouth, over the
curve of her jaw and down her throat. Her head tilted back as he dropped heated kisses on her wet, sensitive skin. “I want you naked between my sheets,” he groaned and rubbed harder against her, his voice rasping. “I want to be fucking you right now.” His lips grabbed her mouth again.

  “Well, what you want and what you get . . . are often two different things.” The sudden third voice at the pool caused them both to flinch, break from the kiss quick, and look up. “Wouldn't you agree, little brother?”

  Cassandra gasped and quickly dropped her legs as Preston simply gazed at them, eyes dull, cool. Gregory was non-phased. “Hey, Preston ole boy. You're early. Wasn't expecting you for a couple days.”

  “So I see,” Preston said dryly.

  “Oh this?” Gregory smirked. “This isn't what it looks like. The lady fell into the pool, and I dove in to save her.”

  “How gallant,” Preston drawled. “Had she required resuscitation as well?”

  Gregory chuckled. “Indeed she did.”

  Cassandra's face burned, and a sliver of fear burrowed into her. Oh god, what would Preston do? He'd caught her in the act—almost in the act—with his brother! She wanted to make an excuse, offer something to explain the situation, but what was there to say? It was rather self-explanatory.

  Walking over closer, Preston reached down, offering her his hand. “Eleonore, if you don't mind exiting the pool.” Her head ducked, she accepted his hand as he drew her up out of the water. “Please, go change.”

  “Preston, I—”

  “We will discuss this matter later.”

  Cassandra nodded complacently and hurried inside.

  ___________________

  Gregory crawled out of the pool, his skimpy speedo unable to conceal his powerful arousal. He grabbed up his towel and began to dry off.

  “Your services are no longer required.” Preston said dryly, eyes like ice. “You are to leave in the morning.”

  Gregory stared at him, offering a bemused smirk. “As you wish, big brother.” He had expected no less than to be dismissed upon the man's arrival.