"I think I'm pretty good at taking." He slid his hands down her back to cup her hips suggestively.
"No, you're not. But you're going to learn."
He laughed at her determined air. "And how do you plan to teach me?"
She caught his hands and moved them to his sides. "You are just going to lie there and let
me
give to
you fo
r once. No touching me, no nothing, got it?"
"Not fair. I love giving you pleasure—you know that."
Her face softened. "I know. But I want you to see that the world won't fall apart if you put your own pleasure first for once. Now, are you going to let me have my wicked way with you, or not?"
"How can I refuse an offer like that? Besides, I'll get my revenge."
"Oh, no, you won't." She began to unbutton the front of his shirt, trailing her fingers lightly down his chest as she went. "This is
my
turn." When she was finished with the buttons, she took her time tantalizing him, first with her fingers, then with the delicate touch of her mouth. She could feel his tension rising as she approached his belt buckle, and she raised her head to give him a mischievous smile while she disposed of the obstacle. "Are you enjoying yourself yet?" she asked archly, letting her hands pause in their exploration for a moment.
"
You
are trying to torment me."
"That's right." She felt his hand at her breast, caressing her nipple through her blouse. Despite the burst of pleasure it sent through her, she pushed his hand away. "Behave yourself. You can look, but don't touch." With a devilish smile, she began to remove her own clothes slowly as he watched hungrily.
Once she was done, she found her place atop him again, giving a low laugh when his hips thrust up involuntarily. "Hmm, I guess you
are enjoying yourself afte
r all." She wasn't ready to give him what he wanted, though, sliding away to allow her hands scope for ever more intimate explorations of him.
He groaned, and she said softly, "Tell me what you want."
"I want to touch you," he ground out.
"No. Tell me what you want
me
to do to
you."
"Cassie." His voice was full of deep frustration.
"Or do I have to guess?" She shifted so that her mouth was poised just above him. "Could this be it?" She waited for an answer.
"You little torturer," he gasped. "You know it is."
She gave him a satisfied look as she began to give him what he wanted, making him moan with pleasure. He reached out for her, but she determinedly pushed his hands away, taking him closer and closer to the edge of pleasure.
"For God's sake, let me touch you," he pleaded.
She decided to take mercy on him and released him. Poising herself over him, she slid herself home, answered by a convulsive thrust. "There," she said mischievously, as he struggled to control himself. "You're touching me.
Now
what do you want?" He caught at her hips, his eyes nearly wild, pulling her to him again. Then, apparently needing more, he surprised her by flipping them over so that he lay on top of her. It took only a few fierce, uncontrolled thrusts before he climaxed hard and slumped upon her.
He lay still for a minute as she stroked his back gently and then said, "God, Cassie, I'm sorry."
"What are you apologizing for?" she asked with amusement.
"Losing control," he said, clearly uncomfortable. "Not taking time for you."
"Excuse me. I was
trying
to make you lose control. You try to make
me
lose control all the time. You make me lose control so much I don't have the stamina to try to make
you
lose control most of the time."
"That's different."
"No, it isn't. You clearly liked it, and there's nothing wrong with wanting me to do things to you—I'm not going to get mad at you or anything."
"You're taking advantage of me. I'm in no condition to argue."
"I have to take advantage when I can," she said with mock dignity. "But I
am
serious—I want you to be able to tell me what you want, whether it's about having children or where we live or what you like in bed. I won't always agree, but I'd like to know."
He rolled off her and propped himself up on his elbow. "Cassie, my favorite fantasies about you mostly involve making love to you when I know that I've pleasured you again and again. It turns me on, okay?"
"You're hopeless," she said with amusement.
He leaned over and took her nipple in his mouth, teasing it with his tongue before suckling it gently for a minute. When she gasped with pleasure, he released her. "I don't notice you complaining most of the time." He returned to her nipple again, this time while sliding his hand between her legs. As she pressed hungrily against his fingers, he said, "But I suppose I can survive if occasionally you want to have your wicked way with me
before
I try to drive you out of your mind."
The story Calder planted about his missing uncle broke a few days later in the
New York Times.
"First page, but below the fold. Not bad," Calder said philosophically as he began to scan it.
Cassie read over his shoulder. It had a surprising number of details, including reports from his commanding officer in Korea and one of his early caretakers. Calder's grandfather was deeply implicated, but the investigators also found financial documents linking his father and other uncle.
"Now life will get exciting," Calder said. "I'm glad we're running away to get married soon."
The article provoked a furor in Washington. Fortunately, since Calder was seen only as a bit player in the story, it had little impact at Haverford. Several reporters called with questions, despite his continuing refusal to comment. When Cassie was caught once by a journalist, she cheerfully denied knowing anything beyond what she had read in the papers. She neatly sidestepped the trap when asked if she agreed with Senator Westing's actions toward his brother. "Do I agree with him?" she said. "I'm a Democrat and a scientist. I don't agree with Senator Westing on
anything,
including the basic facts of nature."
Chapter 20
A FEW DAYS LATER they finally left for Chicago, the wedding plans still a tightly kept secret. Their ostensible reason for leaving midweek was to avoid the media splash at Haverford when the article in
People came out
. Cassie was more nervous about introducing Calder to her parents than about the magazine.
They went to her parents' tiny ranch house for dinner that night. Both the house and the yard, always neat, were immaculately tidy. Her mother was already at the door when they walked up.
Cassie hugged her tightly, tears pricking at her eyes. When had her mother become so small? Swallowing the lump in her throat, she said, "Mom, this is Calder. And this is my father." As she kissed her father's cheek, she saw Calder taking her mother's hand in both of his own.
"It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Boulton. Cassie's told me a great deal about you. Thanks for inviting us."
"I'm so glad you came." Her mother sounded choked up.
"I wouldn't miss this for the world, the chance to meet Cassie's family and see where she grew up."
Sometimes it was useful that his parents forced all those social skills down his throat, but Cassie could tell it didn't come naturally. "The house looks great, Mom." But it, like her mother, had grown even smaller while she was away.
Her mother had clearly worked hard over the hors d'oeuvres and explained that Cassie's sister Maria and her children would be arriving later, along with the Crowleys. Cassie had mentioned to her at one point that Calder was often quiet in large groups, but she hadn't expected her mother to adjust plans to accommodate for it. She was touched by how much effort her mother had put into making this evening a success.
Cassie didn't know what to talk about at first, but plans for the wedding made a subject they all had in common. Her mother filled her in on the last-minute details, seeming anxious for her approval, and took Cassie back to the bedroom to show her the mother-ofthe-bride dress she had chosen.
To her relief, it was quite tasteful, although she suspected she had Ann Crowley to thank for that. She fingered the fine fabric. Her mother had probably never owned anything like it. None of them had. "Have you seen Ryan recently, Mom?" Cassie wasn't sure if she wanted to hear the answer, but she couldn't help asking.
Her mother's smile disappeared and her eyes became suspiciously misty. "I go down every month."
"How is he? His letters don't say much."
"He gets by. He's helping some of the other men with their cases, and they protect him in return. But he's too thin."
Ryan had written her about working in the law library at the prison. Cassie was pleased he was developing an interest in something, not realizing he had another motive for doing it. "He says I shouldn't visit him."
"He doesn't want you to see him like that. He's always wanted you to be proud of him."
Cassie bit her lip hard. She wanted to ask more, but it would make her cry. Instead, worried about leaving Calder for long with her father, she steered her mother back to the men, only to discover them engaged in a lively discussion of the White Sox's chances for next year. She blinked in astonishment, never having heard Calder so much as mention sports before. They seemed happy enough, though, so she left them to it, but when an opportunity arose later, she whispered to him, "So, when did you develop such an interest in the White Sox?"
"I'm from a family of politicians. The first thing to do when going to a new city is to learn about the sports teams so you have something to talk about."
She gave him an amused look. "It certainly seems to have worked."
Dinner went relatively well; although the fare was simple, Cassie's mother had gone to an effort to fix her childhood favorite dishes. Ann Crowley kept the conversation going with no apparent effort, for which Cassie was eternally grateful. Calder, while quiet, seemed in good spirits.
Cassie's mother had just served coffee when Calder's cell phone rang. With a look of annoyance, he flipped it open and glanced down at the caller ID. A shadow crossed his face for a moment. "Excuse me, please. It's my parents. I'd better talk to them." He walked into the living room before answering it. He had wondered how long it would take for his father to respond to the news in
People.
Apparently just a few hours.
"Hello?" Calder could hear the conversation in the dining room continuing in the background.
"Calder," came his mother's voice, and he relaxed slightly. His mother would say whatever his father told her to, but at least she wouldn't set traps for him. "Your father told me the news, and I just wanted to tell you how delighted I am. She sounds like a lovely young lady."
"Thank you," he managed to say. "I'm very happy about it."
"I hope I have the chance to meet her soon. Your father and I were thinking we'd like to have an engagement party for the two of you. All our friends will be anxious to meet her and to offer their congratulations in person."
Damage control. He'd been expecting something like this. His father knew how badly it would reflect on him if he didn't approve of the marriage, so he was switching positions. For the moment, anyway. It would only last until he thought they were vulnerable again. Apparently there was to be no mention of his failure to tell his parents directly about his engagement.
"I'll have to talk to Cassie about that," he said.
"Is she there? I'd love to say hello to her," she said with an appearance of warmth.
"Yes. We're having dinner at her parents' house."
"You are? Oh, how very nice. Please do give them my best regards, and tell them I look forward to meeting them."
"It's been very nice to meet them face to face, since I've only spoken to them on the phone before," said Calder. "Cassie's mom made us a wonderful dinner. I may not need to eat for a week." He wondered if his mother would notice he had more contact with Cassie's parents than with his own.
"Just a second." He was uncomfortable handing her over to Cassie, but not willing to make an issue of it. Returning to the dining room, he spoke in Cassie's ear. "My mother is asking to talk to you. They want to have an engagement party for us."
Cassie took the phone with a curious look and followed him back out of the room. "Hello?" She leaned back against Calder as he slipped his arms around her.