Red Silk Scarf (34 page)

This time having
left the light on, even if she had not instantly seen the intruder standing by
the couch, unmistakable was the fragrance stirred by the swinging door.
 
Incorporating the coolness and sleekness of a
panther, she closed the distance between herself and the oversized piece of
furniture, closer to means of survival.
 
On the way her chest raised and lowered, her eyes closed, opened, she
was ready.

           
“Where have you been,” the softly
spoken question full of fret, strangely interwoven with a sigh of relief.
 

Maintaining a
mask that spoke of assurance, the glare of Cassidy’s black eyes aligning with
orbs of blue turned Sullivan’s insides to ice.
 
An intense stare that burrowed through him, finding the brain she
forever turned to boiling liquid and incinerating thoughts leaving in their
wake one hundred percent awareness.
 
Something was terribly wrong.
 
Every microscopic speck of her demeanor spelled “fear, ” an emotion
Patrick never believed he'd witness in the woman he'd come to admire her
previous vulnerability suddenly replaced with a coat of steal that caused
deadly vibrations to arch between them.

Stopping within
two feet of her un-welcomed visitor, without a word she unbuttoned the overcoat
allowing the garment to fall around her feet.
 
Seductress that she'd become knew surviving the battle dress unveiled
was impossible, every detail as though Sullivan's most private wishes were
instantly granted.
 
A delicious meal she
had prepared, beneath the delicate layers of material, the most tempting
deserts.
 

Sullivan had
waited a long time for a woman who could penetrate the iron bars he'd built
around his heart.
 
Someone who could make
him feel so intensely, correction, he'd waited a long, long time.
 
Now, regardless of what Cassidy was, he
wanted her, God, how he wanted her.

In a stern over
confident voice, “I have an appointment.
 
Please leave,” Cassidy’s casual brush off, a rejection as though she’d shot
Sullivan between the eyes.
 
Lord help
him, he smiled that stupid crooked smile of his, the endearing kind capable of
turning to Jello everything within range.

Desperate to know
what was scaring her so, knowing she wouldn’t tell him, at a loss as to what
else to say, “This time, sweet cake, I'm staying no matter what you do or
say.”
 
Raising a hand, the backs of
fingers positioned beneath her chin allowed a forefinger and thumb to lay
claim, a touch that made her list slightly and detected the tremors beneath her
skin.
 
He swore her lips quivered felt
her Adam’s apple ripple when she swallowed hard, but despite her responses, her
facial expressions remained cold and hard.

As sure as the
sunrises and sets, Cassidy knew Sullivan would be waiting, that he'd do
anything to stay.
 
Dam pigheaded fool, of
course, he'd complicate matters by attempting seduction.
  
She had to maintain a believable level of
anger, do whatever was necessary, she mumbled repetitiously.
 
A difficult insensitivity to muster when it was
already retreating by the mere sight of Sullivan's confused state, and the
sensation of his skin searing hers.
 

Well aware that
he knew something was wrong; she didn’t know what to do next, and then she
did.
 
Raising an eyebrow, narrowing her
eyes, Cassidy decided to go for the kill.
 
“Pray tell, were you so vane to believe for one second that I have
feeling's for you?
 
Typically you’re a
man who, believes he’s God’s gift to women, who thinks with his cock.”

Although
Sullivan's head moved back slightly, as if experiencing a sudden sharp pain, he
never blinked.
 
Continuing to stare right
through her, bewilderment flared in his eyes along with a million questions
she'd never get to answer.
 
Unable to
withstand her unfair punishment, his gaze plummeting to her breasts that were
struggling not to expose the extent of her upset verified his suspicions.
 
Cassidy was more than afraid, more like
terrified, not of him, she’d never feared him before, but of someone else.
 
Uppermost in his mind was who?

Returning his
attention to her face, Sullivan brought with it a more destructive smile, one
that made his eyes dance.
 
“You’re a
kaleidoscope of amazement and delight.
 
You're in love with me I know you are.
 
You can't help it, the charmer that I am.”
 
There was a pause as his cocky smile widened.
“Say it, Casey.
 
Just once, I want to
hear you say it.”
 

Though her body
wanted to fidget, she couldn’t allow it the pleasure.
 
Dear God, help me, Cassidy silently
whined.
 
Dam Sullivan to hell, he could
charm the stars into forming a new galaxy.
 
Crumbling the plaster facsimile before him was his game.
 
Idiot that he was, he wanted her to fall at
his feet, beg him to stay.
 
Losing ground
and control, couldn’t happen, if she did, lives were at stake.
 
His ploys only made her stiffer still, and
served to harden her armor more.

Moving back
denied his touch.
 
No longer was anger a
problem, in full bloom it was taking hold and shaking her senseless.
 
“Get out!
 
Now!”
 
Her shriek enough to stop
rushing tears in their tracks.
 
“I could
never love someone like you, a whoremonger, drug addict, and an egotistical
bastard.” Never before had the devil taken such control of her tongue.

Rage arching
between them ignited Sullivan's eyes, an explosive bolt that surprisingly did
not fire up his words despite the pain knifing through him. Certain there was a
reason for her behavior, “Amazing, truly amazing, your fortitude.
 
For some reason you have difficulty accepting
the truth don't you, but then, liar that you are, how would you know the
meaning of truth? The promises we didn't make, the words we never said are all
there in your eyes.
 
You’ll never give me
a chance to be the man to fight for you, will you?”
   

Patience dwindled,
mind screaming damn her to hell, Patrick’s hands thrusting forward plucked a
waist so tiny his fingers and thumbs almost touched.
 
Squeezing the breath from her, he crushed her
to him.

Dammit, nothing
was going the way Cassidy intended.
 
“Let
go of me, you're wrinkling my clothes.
 
My guest . . .” Pushing and shoving at his chest, was useless, as was
the profanity escaping beneath the heaviness of his lips.
 
Beating him with her fists only increased the
duration and pressure of the onslaught.
 
Unbelievable as it seemed at the time she suddenly remembered there were
no signs that any of the victims resisted.
 
By the time realization dawned, Sullivan had raised one of her legs to
allow a hand to claim a boot that was killing her feet.
 
Unzipping and removing the leather, he tossed
it into the air, lowered the limb then claimed the other to repeat the
movements.
 
Suddenly both feet were bare,
off the floor, and one of his hands was all too close to a breast.
 
Shit, the pager, Cassidy screamed inwardly.
 

Sullivan having
his way couldn’t happen.
 
If she gave an
inch, it would be a long time before he was through.
 
Emotions needed to be in tack.
 
Becoming a rag doll, limp and pliable were
startling moves that halted him instantly.

What in hell was
going on?
 
Nothing he did was
working.
 
“You're one cool cookie, a mass
of complexity, Ms. Cassidy, truly the light on the dark side of me.”
 
Finally managing to destroy his confidence
and maniacal smile, she’d baffled him sufficiently to release his hold.
 
His face flushed from the warmth of the blood
rushing there, among other places.
 

Requiring
life-preserving space, Cassidy stepped back sufficiently for the heels of her
feet to touch the couch.
 
Employing
reverse physiology, wasting no time her hands came to the zipper of her
top.
 
“Do you need me so badly that you
can't make an appointment?
 
Well, if
that's the case, you have exactly five minutes before my next guest, so let’s get
it done.”
 

Cassidy wanted
him angry, wanted to throw him off guard, a ploy that worked, but to her
chagrin, only for mere seconds.
 
A
dangerous spurt of time that allowed Sullivan's eyes to, transform, soften, and
become a glazed over baby blue.
 
Like a
puppy reprimanded, his expression began to sag and, instead of anger, his charismatic
eyes twinkled mischievously.
 

“I guess I had
that coming.”
 
Retrieving his wallet, he
removed a one hundred dollar bill, crushed it in his fist then tossed it on the
floor.
 
“This should be plenty to cover
what I have in mind.
 
If not, bill me.”
 
A response he believed would surely
antagonize her enough to reveal what she was thinking.
 
Still, no response just fire spitting from
her eyes.
  
Hoping to annoy her, further
another hand plunging into his pocket hauled out several colorfully packaged
condoms that he tossed onto the coffee table.
 
With a beguiling, grin quirking his mouth, “And, before we're through,
we're going to need every one.”
 

This was no time
for humor.
 
Sullivan was a brazen,
over-confident, arrogant asshole who could make her feel beyond reality.
 
The stabbing pain near her heart was telling
her that what he said was true, she loved him, really loved him.
 

Unbearable
moments passed while each scrutinized the other waiting for a response,
anything, a time when the earth seemed to open up and swallow them
bit-by-bit.
 
The voice finally gaining
sufficient strength was Sullivan’s, for Cassidy would have collapsed if not for
the job left undone.
 

His actions hurt
her, Sullivan could tell.
 
There were no
intentions of doing so, but her pain was nothing compared to the truth that was
killing him.
  
Maybe if he confessed, so
would she. “The charade is over, Casey.
 
No matter what you wear, or how hard you try, you're no more a hooker
than I am a Saint.
 
Although, I must say
in bed you're quite persuasive.”

Cassidy turned as
red as her top, she just knew she did because he laughed, a boisterous laugh
that reared back his head.
 
It was when
he stopped suddenly and a serious expression veiled his face that sheer panic
arrived.
 
“I must admit you buffaloed me
for a while, but sweet cakes, you're no longer believable.”
 

Shit, shit, shit,
she moaned.
 
His eyelids becoming heavy
from the weight of desire were making all vestiges of anger disappear.
 
One way or another, he was going to take what
he wanted, and he was extremely capable.
  
Spoiled child that he was, he'd have his way regardless.
 
He’d do all the things he did before and once
he started. . . making matters worse, she felt like a fresh batch of cookie
dough waiting for consumption.

Cassidy had
learned her job well, how to lie, how to handle the angry side of Sullivan, but
not this side that forever turned her inside out.
 
When this job was finished, she'd never hear
her heart sing again the way it was right now, never.
  
He was doing it, what he managed to do to
every woman he ever touched; weave a spider’s web that held his prey
captive.
 
She was no different from the
others, really.
   

Before sense
arrived, Cassidy was on the couch, Sullivan on top moving against her churning
her into butter beneath him.
 
Soft, moist
lips were everywhere leaving unbelievable trails of sensation, his tongue
plundering seeking what she was struggling unsuccessfully to withhold.
 
By ravishing her body, and stealing her
thoughts, he was leaving her breathless.
 
Then again, nothing he did surprised her he'd already claimed her heart.

Despite, a body
that was red hot, and a mind scrambling for something to say, some way to get her
out of L.A., away from danger, from the “Killer,” all at once it hit him right
between the eyes.
 
Cassidy believed he
was the killer and that she was his next victim.