Lie to Me
Lie to Me
By
Nicole L. Pierce
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Lie to Me
Nicole Pierce
Red Rose™ Publishing
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The symbol of the Red Rose and Red Rose is a trademark of Red Rose™ Publishing
Red Rose™ Publishing
Copyright© 2012
Nicole Pierce
ISBN: 978-1-4543-0157-8
Cover Artist: Honey Jans
Editor: Honey Jans
Line Editor: WRFG
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This is a work of fiction. All references to real places, people, or events are coincidental, and if not coincidental, are used fictitiously. All trademarks, service marks, registered trademarks, and registered service marks are the property of their respective owners and are used herein for identification purposes only.
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Lie to Me
By
Nicole L. Pierce
Chapter One
For two days Casey Riske had known this meeting would take place, but as soon as she saw him, she felt endangered. When she spotted Damian Ballantine sitting at the picnic table under the park’s brown pavilion, she froze in her tracks, unable to move her legs. He rose, nodded his acknowledgement at her, and the temperature of a pleasant autumn day suddenly seemed tropical, which could only mean trouble. Thank God she’d worn a sleeveless tank top and a short denim skort…anything warmer and she’d have passed out. As he headed in her direction, her heart slammed against her chest. Asking him back had been one of the hardest decisions of her life; she hoped for their little boy’s sake it had been the right one.
After five years, she hadn’t expected all the old sensations to rush back at her—a profound awareness of his presence combined with a wave of spine-tingling excitement that raced through her veins. As he slowly closed the gap between them, she checked him out, relieved that he bore no obvious signs of his accident. However, as he drew closer, she saw a long, thick scar on the left side of his neck.
A minor mark, all things considered.
He stopped a few feet before her, his face a stoic mask.
Casey tried to keep her wits about her. Damian unsettled her, as he always had. With his great height and powerful muscles straining against a snowy white t-shirt and crisp designer jeans, he looked magnificent. Golden brown hair spilled to his shoulders, framing dark blue eyes, bronzed skin, and clean-cut features. Without a doubt, he could still stop traffic, specifically female drivers. Casey inhaled his scent, soap mixed with spice and the musky smell of one hundred percent male. As she stared up at him, feeling his potent aura, she thought of how he looked every inch Michael Ballantine’s son.
Except, of course, that Michael Ballantine, and most of his family, had disowned Damian years ago. He only had Alex’s support. And she, who had loved him more than life itself, had tossed him out of her world too, the hardest thing she’d ever done.
As they gazed into one another’s eyes, she realized that nothing had changed. In the worst way, she wanted to lay him out and unclothe him to check him over; see that his flesh and bones had mended. The motorcycle accident had almost killed him and she needed to examine him with her own eyes to make sure that he was all right…
and it would be a good excuse to caress his luscious, six-pack-abs
…
No!
She blinked a few times. They would never be together that way again but…
But just standing here with him, at a loss for words, feeling his damn aura, she was overcome with a desire to make love to him. With a hunger and need no better than any common animal, she wanted him.
Damn him!
How would she ever get through this meeting? Why had she come alone? Alex and Sam had both offered…of course, she didn’t trust Sam. Alex would have been all right, but she’d turned him down too.
Casey had known she’d have to come by herself. Damian had pride. If she’d brought a bodyguard, he’d probably have left. It had been hard enough to pry him away from Alabama and almost trick him into coming back to Weipeka, Wisconsin even for a possibly very short visit.
She felt her throat working hard. “Hello, Damian.” Her voice sounded clear and cold, nothing like she felt on the inside.
“Hi.” He watched her with considering eyes. “You must have wanted to see me pretty badly.” He’d acquired a southern drawl, and his smooth, velvet voice could have seduced the skirt off a nun.
She tried to look composed. “I did, and you were pretty stubborn about not leaving that little town in Alabama.”
Good.
A little sassy and her voice hadn’t shaken.
His lip twitched up on one side. “So I left that little town in Alabama to revisit this little town in Wisconsin, where everyone I care about hates me. But threatening me with unpaid parking tickets? Your father, Mr. Congressman, knows he couldn’t force me back for that reason. I only came because I figured you must be desperate to see me if you’d have him pull a sad trick like that.” He stepped a little closer, and his eyes twinkled with amusement. “I know. You missed my body, right, love?”
“No!” Actually, she had, and hoped she didn’t blush. He could be lethal to her sanity and peace of mind. “I needed to see you for—more important reasons than lust.”
“There are things more important than lust?” He faked shock, and then his lips thinned before he said, “I hear that the company of alcoholics is always in demand.” He flashed her a self-mocking smile, exposing strong, white teeth and a dimple in his left cheek.
The man was a walking, oozing advertisement for sex—no doubt about it. She focused on his wide, sensual lips that begged for kissing, and then stepped back once, trying to concentrate on the matter at hand. “I’ve stayed in close touch with Alex. I know you’ve been sober for four years now.”
He bowed his head and laughed. “Of course. Reliable ole Alex, the good twin, would give you updates on my life. I told him not to.” He lifted his head and no longer looked friendly or amused. His cool eyes pinned her back.
“He kept most of your little secrets.” She heard the bitterness in her voice. The torture of not seeing Damian after his accident had kept her up nights crying, and she hated him for that, even as her long buried love surfaced at the same time. “Alex did share newsflashes about your health. He needed a friend to talk to, especially after you made him leave Alabama.”
Damian again dropped his head. “I had to force him to come back here, to his normal life. He would have stayed there for me—I couldn’t do that to him.”
She felt her body stiffen. He’d put her and Alex through so much agony, and really believed he’d done the right thing. At least he’d let Alex keep in touch with him over the phone. Not her.
“You never allowed Alex to tell me why you’d completely deserted Miles.” She heard an accusatory note in her voice. “I never dreamed you’d leave the state.”
“I told you why in my letter. Never discussed it with Alex.” His eyes flashed, and Casey flinched at an old, but familiar look of self-hatred on his face. “Case, you know why I did everything. I never thought I’d stay sober for long. I wanted you to move on, find a good man, and get a better father for my son.” He stared at her, his gaze piercing like an arrow. “Why the hell haven’t you done that?”
She remembered how angry with himself he could get. She was sure his inner contempt had fueled his alcohol addiction. He drank way too much, almost dying of alcohol poisoning a few times, yet he’d seemed unable to stop. He’d promise, beg for another chance, and then blow it. Finally, Casey had joined Al-Anon and taken their advice. How hard it had been for her to order him out, even under the circumstances.
What she hadn’t expected was that he’d leave the state and give up his parental rights to the son he adored. His good-bye letter, full of self-recrimination, had explained his chaotic state of mind, and why he felt it best to disappear. But she’d had so many questions for him, and she couldn’t receive feedback from a piece of paper.
“Answer me, Casey. Why didn’t you move on?” His voice commanded attention as his eyes blazed turquoise.
“In my way, I have.” She lifted her chin, trying to fight the sizzling electricity between the two of them—that intangible “it” factor that had always sparked dangerous chemistry since their first meeting so many years ago. “You don’t know what I’ve been doing.”
“True, and I wouldn’t let Alex tell me.” He sucked in a breath, his gaze suddenly hungry and sexual, and she shuddered inside. “I didn’t expect a prize like you to stay unattached. I thought you’d have remarried.” His seductive eyes—“bedroom eyes” her mother called them—seemed to undress her, sending shivery tickles down her spine.
“I don’t need a man. Plus you don’t know that I’m unattached.” Oh, she kept up the sass—all the while she was dying inside.
“You’re even hotter now.” He spoke with deep appreciation on his face and in his voice.
Casey shook her head. Damian thought her pretty, and it puzzled her. She hated her tall, lanky frame with her oversized breasts and undersized hips. And what about her dull brown hair and eyes and unremarkable features? No, she’d never been pretty. Damian had been the looker in their relationship, but he’d made her feel like the beautiful one.
“Damian, don’t try to charm me now.”
“I’m not, I mean it. Why did you drag me here anyways?” He placed his large hands on her shoulders, and lowered his head to catch her stare. “Nobody would tell me.”
The touch surprised her, although her reaction to it didn’t. Flames seemed to graze her bare flesh and shoot to every extremity, even in her most intimate places. “To be honest, I was afraid that if you knew the reason, you wouldn’t come.”
Damian’s features tightened. “Tell me, darlin’, because I’m not staying for long. My life is in Alabama now.”
“Not exactly.” She heard sass and sarcasm again and mentally clapped for herself. She couldn’t let him know how he flustered her. “You do have a son, and he needs you. Miles is starting to have serious father issues, and you are his father, even though you clearly don’t want to be.”
There.
She held her breath.
The hands on her shoulders dug more deeply and his eyes rounded. “It’s Miles? You thought I’d stay away if I knew it was Miles?” Suddenly, he shook her, “Is he sick? Is he?”
“No!”
His intensity surprised her. After he had time to absorb her answer, his expression changed to stunned hurt.
She took advantage of his speechlessness to rush on. “He’s fine, physically, but, not emotionally. I remember how you always felt you were so bad for Miles. I wasn’t sure you’d return if you knew I believe—he needs you.”
The silence screamed between them. He didn’t move, nor did she. Finally, he said, in a quiet voice, “You’re wrong. I’m not that big a jerk. I still love my son. The thing is, I signed away my legal rights to him.”
“I didn’t ask that of you.”