Kiss Me, Dancer (17 page)

“That’s the lure of dance. It can only happen in the moment. And all your thoughts and feelings have to be alive and aware. Difficult movements, especially when they’re sustained through a whole dance, require an extreme sort of consciousness. Most of the arts can pull you in and make you focus that way. I think studying them is a perfect antidote to the ADHD issues plaguing kids.”

“You should have a whole performing arts school.”

Casey rolled her eyes. “I used to dream of that in my less realistic days.”

Drew gazed at her a few moments, and Casey thought he was about to kiss her. But instead he said, “I figured out who you remind me of. My grandmother.”

His grandmother? Oh, that’s sexy
. She was about to ask if that meant she was old fashioned, but then Drew began to talk.

He spoke in a somber tone she’d never heard from him, devoid of the sarcastic inflection he often used. Casey sat silently as he told her about the woman who’d taken care of him in the years when his parents’ marriage was falling apart and raised him after his mother ran off with her lover.

“Everything else in my life was unstable. And phony. My father’s mother was the only thing that was real and true. She never judged me or tried to manipulate me into filling some agenda of hers. Like my dad did. Or like most women I meet. Hell, the minute they find out how much I’m worth, the games start. I’m played with tricks and lies. Always somebody trying to put one over on me.”

He brushed Casey’s cheek. “But you. You’re straight down the line. No deception. No angles. The real deal.”

The warmth spreading through her stopped cold as Casey remembered Madame Lumina. Should she tell him? Explain how it happened? That she’d had no intention of deceiving him?

Except she wasn’t totally innocent. She hadn’t been able to resist giving him tiny psychic nudges in her direction. Then there were those things he’d said about his attraction to her. He’d be embarrassed. And furious.

No. She couldn’t tell him. She just had to hope he would never call back for session number three, allowing her dark little secret to remain forever hidden in the past.

Drew leaned forward. Cupping her face in his hands, his mouth claimed hers with a kiss that turned Casey to butter. She felt herself tremble, tried not to, told herself this was her chance to protest, to pull back, to tell him to take her home.

But she couldn’t make herself do it. She’d never wanted anyone the way she wanted Drew. His hand went to her breast. Her nipple hardened against his palm. Bunching his shirt in her fists, she returned his kisses with a fervor that surprised her.

He bundled Casey in his arms and carried her downstairs to a spacious bedroom paneled in tawny wood, lined with mirrors and wall-to-wall beige carpet. Twinkling lights glowed in the ceiling. Deep chocolate linens covered the wide bed.

Tonight he took her slowly, carefully, tenderly. Rocking her along with the gentle motion of the boat. In the midst of it all, her mind stopped protesting. And at some point she found herself struck by the wondrous thought that they had progressed from having sex to making love.

Chapter Seventeen

Over the next three and a half weeks Casey spent each night with Drew’s hands touching her, his lips at her ear murmuring sweet things, his skin wet and slick against hers. She tasted every part of him, gloried in the scent of him, the feel of his hair tickling her cheek and the sheer power of his hard body when he drove himself deep inside her.

Even when they’d part after taking in a movie or looking at possible properties, Drew would show up later and climb into her bed. Once he’d actually come out and said to her, “I can’t get through the night without you next to me.”

Unlike Casey, Drew loved early morning. He’d wake her up and make her jog with him down to Bailie Beach on the Sound. When they returned, filled with ions and salt air and sunrise kisses, they’d put coffee on and make love while it brewed.

He never ate breakfast. Just gulped down a fast cup of java and raced out the door. When he was gone Casey sat in her kitchen with her cats, replaying every word, every look, every touch. She knew she was treading dangerous ground, believing he was falling for her. But she could feel it so clearly whenever they were together. And several times now Drew had gazed at her with eyes that spoke of love.

But then she’d ask herself,
What if I’m wrong? What if all I’m seeing is a projection of my own feelings? What if it’s just the dreamer in me getting carried away? 

Casey knew she ought to be guarding her heart before she fell so hard she couldn’t turn back. Except she also knew it was already too late.

***

Drew ambled along the golf course with his father, the morning dew wetting his shoes. Walking the link’s eighteen holes with its hills and fairways served as a major part of his dad’s healthy heart regimen. An ocean breeze kicked up, and Drew immediately thought of Casey on his boat, her chestnut hair whipping about in the wind.

No wonder he’d missed his last putt. Everything he saw, smelled, heard or touched reminded him of Casey. After that first night with her he hadn’t been able to stop. For almost a month now he’d seen her every day, either looking at property or going to dinner, boating, jogging or doing dumb errands together — but always ending the day with Casey naked in his arms.

That wasn’t really it, though. The sex. Sure, Casey was phenomenal, but it was what he
felt
during their sex that had him hooked. What he felt deep inside every time he was in the same room with Casey.

He’d tried going a day without seeing her. Didn’t want her getting any female ideas about a “relationship.” Told her he was busy, even set up a night out with a babe so hot any man would go nuts over her. Last minute he cancelled and raced to the studio in North Cove desperate to fill that empty hollow in his chest. The place inside him that needed Casey.

But Drew wasn’t too keen on a woman having that kind of power over him. He told himself it would fade, although some part of him didn’t want that to happen.

And that scared the hell out of Drew.

Bending slightly forward, Andrew Sr. crooked his right arm and followed through with some light practice swings. “So anyway, I was talking to Harry Von Alston the other day.”

Drew cringed.
Here we go
.

“His baby girl is coming back from Europe. Been out seeing the world.”

“Baby? Amber is a sophisticated twenty-seven-year-old, and she’s been around the world all right.”

“She’s still Harry’s pride and joy.”

“I’m happy for him.”

Andrew Sr. turned to Julio, his caddy. After a few nods and murmurings, he meandered over to the ball, armed with his shiny wedge. “I don’t have to remind you that the contract for Von Alston Paper Products is up for restart. And we both know how much money we’re talking about here. While we speak, Lyle Trucking is courting Harry Von Alston. From what I hear they’re offering him a sweetheart package that undercuts our current price. We can’t let that happen.”

“Who told you this?

“Oh, a little birdie named Gavin Rogers over at GAI.”

Gavin Rogers worked with Gilbrier Assets International. A clever weasel with a penchant for leaking the inside gravy to his favorite clients. Drew gave him mixed reviews since there were a few instances when his intel on the sly helped Byrne Trucking avert some major financial icebergs. “Speaking of birdies, Dad, maybe you should just concentrate on making that shot. Let’s save the board room chat for the Nineteenth hole.”

“Birdie? I’m going for a triple bogey. You’re the one who’s always shooting under, but you’re playing like crap today.” Andrew Sr. squinted at the sun, tightening the glove on his left hand.

Drew recognized it as one of his dad’s stalling moves. A way to create suspense that would ensure him of Drew’s attention.

It came out pretend casual. “Don’t let Von Alston see you play like this while we’re up in Saratoga with his family. I want that to be a week to remember.”

“Saratoga? Who said anything about me going up there?”

“I did when I accepted Harry’s invitation.”

“Have a nice time.”

“Amber’s quite fond of you. And right now that makes both her parents pretty happy. You do realize the gravity of the situation here? Combine all the assets belonging to the Von Alston estate with Byrne Trucking and you have an empire.”

Drew shook his head. “I don’t believe this. Sounds like one of those arranged marriages from out of a Bollywood movie.”

“Just being practical.”

“Absolutely. Me and Amber, we’ll tie the knot and be so happy. She can have her own sixteen wheeler to take for spins around the block, and I’ll have enough paper towels and asswipe to last a lifetime. A fairytale marriage if there ever was one.”

Drew watched as his father did what he always did at times like this. Whenever Drew outpointed him during an exchange he’d divert by switching the focus onto some other mundane matter before going back to his side of the argument.

“Sure hope I got enough club here,” Andrew Sr. said before swinging down and through the ball in a smooth easy motion, lofting it into space. White as a pearl in the bright afternoon light, the ball plopped down next to the hole, but continued to roll before finally clutching onto the far edge of the green. “Damn. Too much muscle.”

Click
. Drew nipped the ball squarely with a crisp five iron from the middle of the apron. “Shit,” he grumbled as the ball trickled a good fifteen feet past the hole. But considering his state of mind right now between his obsessing over Casey and anticipating the inevitable bombardment that would be coming from his father, what did he expect?

“You know, you used to like Amber. I remember when you couldn’t get enough of the girl.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch. But she was fun. For a while.”

“Hey, there’s all kinds of marriages in this world, son. Having a wife doesn’t mean you can’t have other women.”

“You oughta know,” Drew muttered under his breath.

“And you can’t say she’s too hard on the eyes. Got that platinum hair and those implants.”

“The answer is no.”

A wearied sigh. “Okay, table the marriage idea, but Harry won’t like it if we snub his wife’s invitation to their horse farm.”

“I can’t leave our business for seven days to go see a bunch of horses and people I can’t stand.”

“This
is
business.”

“We’ll get the contract anyway.”

His father stepped close and aimed a finger in Drew’s face. “Sometimes you can be a real idiot. I’ve seen you pull out the stops with your acting skills when you’re after some piece of tail. Well, now you got something worth doing it for. You’re going to be real nice to Amber Von Alston. Starting tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“Her mother’s giving her a welcome home party.”

“Sorry, but I’ve got plans.”

“That’s too damn bad. You’re gonna cancel them. I’m tired of pussyfooting around with you.”

Drew saw his father’s face turning red. “Calm down, Dad. It’s not good for you to get excited. And this certainly isn’t worth—”

“You’ll be at that party, and you’ll do as I say. And I don’t want any—” Andrew Sr. buckled over and winced. Then he collapsed to one knee holding his chest.

“Dad?” Drew squatted, wrapped his arms around his father and guided him to sit on the ground.

Julio and Tim came rushing over. “I’ll get some help,” Julio said pulling out his phone.

“You will not!” Andrew Sr. shouted. “Just give me a minute to catch my breath.”

“We’re going to the E.R.,” Drew said.

“Fuck the E.R. I need a drink.”

His father’s angry, clipped orders made Julio pause and look at Drew, eyebrows raised in question.

“Make the call.”

Julio began speaking into his phone.

“Can it! I’m not going.” Drew’s father tried struggling to his feet.

Drew held him. “Don’t try to get up. Listen to me.”

“Why should I?”

“We’re calling an ambulance, and you’re going to the hospital.”

“You can’t make me.”

Drew watched him straining for breath. “If I promise to go to the party and make nice to Amber, will you at least go in and let them check you over?”

With a wheezing half-smile his father nodded in agreement. “What’d I always tell you? You’re a natural at cutting a deal.”

Chapter Eighteen

Casey stood in the back room of the Coffee Cove packing refrigerator boxes with canapes. Feta and pistachio, crab and lime, artichoke fondant.

A disheveled Natalie, her apron crooked, long shaggy bangs in her eyes, rushed about, one minute tending to her staff and Saturday breakfast customers out front, the next hustling back to join her friend. “I’m so grateful you answered my distress call, Casey. A new client booked this last minute. Peter and Dara stayed here cooking with me into the wee hours. I couldn’t ask them to come in again this morning. But I can pay you for this.”

“No way. I get free breakfast a zillion times a year. I’m just happy your catering business is taking off. Hope you’ll still remember me when you become the next Top Chef.”

“I only wish, sweetie.”

“We can dream, right? That’s what it’s all about. Going for what you want.”

Natalie paused and gave Casey a knowing glance. “You haven’t talked like that in a long time. Things must be dancing along with Mr. Byrne.”

Casey grinned like a child, glad now that she had finally told her friend about hooking up with Drew. Because it was becoming much more than that. There was no denying it. A real relationship had started to blossom. “It’s way better than good. You were right, Nat. I’m soooo glad I didn’t let my old fears stop me. How are things with you and Brent?”

“He’s not exactly breaking down my door. Maybe it’s just as well. I’ve been crazy busy with these catering gigs.” Natalie grimaced. “Speaking of which, tonight’s bash is the biggest party I’ve done so far, and I need to hire extra servers. I know you can use the money…”