Table for Two (15 page)

Cassie escaped into the garden, blaming the unfortunate events in the sunroom on too much drink. Kevin had never behaved that way before, and they had flirted much more freely than that on other occasions. She was just glad to have escaped without irreparable damage to their friendship. She allowed herself to enjoy the tender feel of the warm evening, the happy flash of fireflies, and the sweet smell of lilies and magnolias. The moon winked at her from its inky black bed and offered her its condolences for what the end of the evening would entail.

She sat on a stone bench and stared at the fountain— a structure of a lion roaring. Cassie found it fierce rather than majestic, but let the sound of running water calm her. Suddenly, a ghostlike cloud of smoke arose from the hedge behind her. Curious, she went around the corner and saw Drake, lying stretched out on a bench like a black jungle cat, smoking. The way the gray smoke swirled around him gave the illusion of an apparition— an elusive wizard ready to disappear when the mood struck him.

"I didn't know you smoked," she said.

His eyes touched hers, then turned away. "Only when I'm annoyed."

"And why would you be annoyed?"

He exhaled a cloud of smoke and glanced up at the sky as if pondering the question. "I suppose that's similar to asking a zebra thrown into a pack of hyenas why he'd be upset."

"You mean you didn't enjoy yourself?" she asked, surprised. A secret part of her was thrilled, another part dismayed.

He took another drag of his cigarette and continued to study the sky.

The silence didn't alarm her; perhaps he'd been bored. "I was sure you would," she said, wondering what could have ruined his evening. "Vicki and Mandy are intelligent, successful, wealthy—"

His eyes trapped hers. "And why would that be of any importance to me?"

She hesitated, seeing her plan fraying at the edges. It wasn't supposed to be like this. "I just thought you'd find them interesting," she managed, hoping to sound innocent.

"I did find them interesting." He straightened. "The same way a microbiologist would find a slide of bacteria interesting. Don't worry. I was very civil." He dropped his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his heel. It was a quick controlled movement, but she could tell he was angry. "They laughed at my nonsensical jokes, asked about my watch, my car, my clothes, thrust various body parts into my field of vision, and then began to grope me. Trina saved me; I remember her name because she repeated it at least twenty times, and chatted until my ears rang. A woman named Sheila, who wore an outfit that left little to the imagination, then tried to feed me. Afterward, some woman whose name I forget admitted I'd make a good father for her children and asked if I'd donate sperm."

Cassie bit her lip, trying not to laugh. "You're making this up."

"I'm afraid I'm not that imaginative," he said coolly.

She sat down next to him. "How did you get away?"

"I told them that I was poor." He flexed his fingers. "Of course a few said that I had excellent potential, but I told them I was a hopeless case and was devoted to my benefactress who had given me this watch—" he flashed the object—"for services rendered. I then disappeared here."

"You can't say that you had a boring evening," she teased lightly, hoping he would see it all as a joke. "A lot of men would love to be in your shoes."

Drake eyed her reflectively. "You mean a lot of men would enjoy their dates dumping them so that she can make out with the host?"

"I wasn't making out with anyone," she said, shocked. "Where did you get that idea?"

He flexed his other hand, his voice dangerously neutral. "Cassie, I didn't lie to you, so don't lie to me."

"I'm not lying."

"Then why were you kissing Kevin? No, let me guess. It was some sort of social ritual I'm not aware of. I admit I haven't been out much."

She placed a hand on her forehead, as a horrible realization struck her. Her stomach dropped. "Oh, God. You saw us."

"Yes." He folded his arms, his manner a little too relaxed. "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation."

He was furious. His voice was cool, but the anger seething from it was iron hot. Unfortunately, he had every right. She had felt the same emotions when she'd seen Timothy with Debra. She worried her shawl with nervous fingers. "Actually, there isn't one. Kevin just got out of hand. I didn't know his intentions until too late."

"So you didn't encourage him?"

"Of course not."

Drake hesitated. She could almost feel the tight rein he kept on his anger. "Then what were you doing alone with him in the sunroom?"

"Eating."

His eyes flashed. "You needed me conveniently out of the way so that you could
eat
alone with him?"

"No! He wasn't part of the plan."

He paused. "What plan?"

Cassie closed her eyes, wishing the night had never happened. "Didn't you like any of the women?"

"What plan?" he repeated in the same flat tone.

She opened her eyes and sighed. "Let's forget..." Her words trailed off when she spotted the hard gleam in his eyes. She knew they weren't leaving until she explained. "I figured you would forget about me once you saw the other women," she admitted, her voice low with shame. "Kevin caught me at the bar and persuaded me to go with him to the sunroom. I admit it was a mistake. I'm not at all interested in him in that way and I would never do that to you. Never." She released a bitter little laugh. "I know only too well how it feels to be dumped for someone else." She ran her hand along a bush. "You were supposed to have a good time. A very good time." She plucked one of the leaves and forced a smile, eager to change the mood. "Did you know one of the women you mentioned is a famous dancer at—"

"I was supposed to come here, be so overwhelmed by these vultures that I'd forget about you? That's how you think I'd treat you?"

Cassie maintained her plastic smile. "Hey, you wouldn't be able to help yourself. Like me at an ice cream shop."

"That's the type of man you think I am?"

Her smiled faltered. "Well, uh..."

"Is that what your ex-husband would do?"

"This has nothing to do with Timothy."

"Hmm." Drake lit another cigarette, inhaled, then exhaled and rested his elbows on his knees.

Cassie hung her head, the lovely evening suddenly feeling cold. She didn't realize her shawl had fallen around her waist until Drake casually repositioned it around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry," she said in a quiet voice. "I know it must have looked bad and I can understand you wanting to leave right now and never see me again."

He studied his cigarette. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

"I wasn't trying to get rid of you."

He put the cigarette to his lips. "Yes, you were."

"I was trying to expose you to all the options out there."

He slanted her a dark glance. "How old do you think I am? I've been around plenty of women and slept with lots. Okay, maybe not lots, but enough." He stubbed out his cigarette and stood. "I've had enough of this conversation. Let's dance."

She stared at him, stunned by the suggestion. "But you can't dance."

He pulled her to her feet "Fortunately, you can teach me."

* * *

He was a smooth dancer, his energy raw, his movements compelling. Cassie felt herself following his lead and coming under his spell. She fought it.

"Now, it's your turn to relax," he whispered.

She glared up at him. "I thought you said you couldn't dance."

He fingered a loose tendril around her face. "I can't."

"Then what do you call this?"

"Foreplay."

Her gaze fell.

A man tapped Drake on the shoulder. "Do you think I could cut in here?"

"Sure," Drake said. "If you think you can dance with broken legs." He spun Cassie away.

She stared at him openmouthed, then said, "That was uncalled for and downright rude!"

"Don't lecture me," he softly warned. "I'm not in a good mood."

She turned away. The night was a bigger mess than she could have imagined. Not only had the other women not impressed him, but he probably thought she had used him. Though she'd never see him again, she didn't want him to hate her. "Drake, I was only trying to help," she said, desperate to explain. "I thought—"

"I know what you thought and you were wrong."

She stopped dancing. "Let's leave. You probably can't stand the sight of me."

"Cassie, shut up and move. I'll drag you across the floor if I have to."

"You wouldn't be able to."

The corner of his mouth quirked in challenge. "Try me."

She began to move. In his current mood she wouldn't trust him not to do something. "No."

After a while she heard him make a low grumble in his throat that was eerily close to a growl. Its cause came up to them.

"Hey, babe," Kevin said. He gestured to Drake with a jerk of his chin. "Is this your latest?"

Drake let go of Cassie so abruptly, she staggered back. He turned to Kevin, his voice low but dangerous. "Cassie is not a babe, chick, or hon. Nor is she one of your call girls to pick up and fondle when you feel like it. Now I don't mind her having male friends that treat her with respect, but the next time you mistake her for one of your bimbos, even if she is foolish enough to find herself alone with you in a Jacuzzi as tempting as a money-filled wallet, you'll be kissing my fist. Understood?"

Kevin's jaw twitched in anger, but when he spoke his voice was humble. "Understood. Sorry, Cassie, I didn't mean to embarrass you."

Cassie smiled. "It's—"

"Apology accepted," Drake interrupted. He took her hand and walked away.

"What was that for?" she asked as he handed his ticket to the valet. "Kevin has always—"

"Treated you like a stupid idiot put on this earth for his enjoyment? You deserve better than that. And I'll make sure you get it."

The man was too serious, that was his biggest fault. She knew that Kevin didn't mean anything by his behavior, he called everyone babe or something similar. Cassie thought it best not to talk Drake out of his strange sullen mood. She did not know what to say and he didn't look in the mood for the "Let's still be friends" speech. She also did not want to distract him as he drove through the city like a participant in the Indy 500. Buildings and traffic lights blurred past her like some futuristic ride at an amusement park. Drake gripped the steering wheel occasionally loosening his grip to change gears with unnecessary vigor. He seemed oblivious of how fast they were going.

When he finally turned into an underground parking garage, Cassie let a sigh of relief escape her, pleased that they had arrived safely and that she hadn't heard the siren of a police car in the distance. But as he slid into a parking space she remembered she didn't have underground parking.

"Wait a minute, this isn't my place," she said, getting out of the car.

He turned on his car alarm. "No, it's mine."

"This is not a good idea."

He flashed a bland smile over the hood of his car. "Funny, I felt the same way about your party, but I went anyway." He grasped her elbow and led her to the building. "Come on."

Cassie chewed her lower lip and hummed a song while going up the elevator, then tapped a beat on her leg as he put the key in the lock. Drake paused with his hand on the door. "I don't have any ex-girlfriends hanging on my walls, so relax."

She nodded. The request was illogical. It was like asking an unanesthetized patient to lie still while coming at the person with a giant metal object.

He opened the door to reveal an expensive, beautifully decorated condominium, which afforded a spectacular view of the city lights.

"You have a very kind benefactress," she said, impressed. "Do you think I could do her any favors?"

He took her purse and placed it on the table. "Yes. Make me happy."

"Sorry, that's not one of my talents." She stared at a glass bowl. "So, what do you do for a living?"

"I thought I explained that to you."

Cassie sat down, relieved that he still had the ability to joke. "You must be very good."

"You'll find out soon enough. Would you like a drink?"

"No." She'd had enough food and drink for one evening. She was sure her dress was stretched to its limit. If she breathed too hard, it would burst into pieces.

"Okay." He sat down next to her. "Let's get a few things clear." He tossed his jacket on the back of the couch and rolled up his sleeves. "You seem to have the impression that I like playing games." His magnetic gaze held her captive. "I don't."

"I never—"

Drake pressed a finger against her lips. "I've given you a chance to explain and now I deserve a chance to respond." He gently tugged her shawl off her shoulders and placed it next to him. "I obviously have not made myself clear, but tonight I intend to."

Any reply Cassie had was thoroughly kissed from her mouth. She had expected an angry, punishing kiss that would repel her as Kevin's had, but she was wrong. The engaging touch of his impatient lips sent a shock wave through her entire body. She met the current of desire willingly, unable to deny herself this sorcerer whose very eyes drowned her in a pool of pleasure. She grabbed the lapels of his shirt and brought him close, feeling his hard body against hers. He smelled like the night—musky, cool, and mysterious.

"You taste better every time," he whispered.

"It's my specialty." She licked his lower lip.

"Why did you fight this so long? I should shake you for refusing us this."

"You can shake me later. I like what you're doing right now."

"The bedroom," he muttered against her mouth. He did not want to take her on the couch, although at the present moment that was a distinct possibility.

They stumbled toward the bedroom, leaving various articles of clothing in their wake as they eagerly undressed each other. Drake hooked his foot behind her and Cassie fell backward onto the bed; he covered her like a monsoon—reckless and consuming. She wrapped her arms around him, placing kisses on his shoulders and neck while his hands caressed her body like a gentle wind finding its way through a forest—light, searching, arousing. She felt the expanse of his back, her fingers roaming like a river over his muscles. His skin was hot, seeming to imprint itself on hers, claiming her for the night and other nights to follow. The hair on his chest sent soft, thrilling currents of desire as they brushed against her breasts.