Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
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“Mr. Mortensen, this arrived for you earlier by private courier.”
Taking the envelope from the young resort employee, Granger fished his wallet out of his pocket with one hand, pulled out a one-hundred dollar bill, then handed it to him, mumbling his thanks.
“Thank you sir, you‘re a very generous man!” the young employee beamed, then tipped his cap and left.
Glowering, Granger headed towards the nearest elevator, his thoughts in a whirl. He had spoken to Raidon earlier, they had received the test results for the ‘medication’ Brett Parker had been giving his wife, and just as he'd suspected, the results were both worrisome and frightening. While he felt the urge to strangle the man to death with his bare hands, he also wished to nail everyone involved in his wife's attack. That, and that alone, was the only thing keeping his temper in check at the moment. Raidon had informed him he was following some leads, and one of them appeared to lead to Mexico. He had said he may have found where Cassandra had been taken the first few months following her attack.
Getting onto the elevator, he pulled his new cell phone from his pocket and dialed Jocelyn, told her how Cassandra's doctor appointment had turned out, then asked if she would pack her a few toiletries and outfits.
Jocelyn warned him that Cassandra wouldn't like being forced to stay at the inn, then hung up to do as he asked.
“She's my wife, she needs to be with me.” he mumbled to himself as the elevator came to a stop.
Stepping out, he walked to their suite briskly.
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Cassandra watched in silence as Granger tossed a thick envelope on the coffee table, then removed his jacket and tie, which he tossed on the couch.
Spotting her on the balcony, he stepped outside to join her while he unbuttoned his crisp white shirt and cuff links.
“So, did you have a nice, long chat with your comforting friend?” she asked sarcastically, unable to ignore the unpleasant stab of jealousy that was still coursing through her.
Granger groaned inwardly, he had hoped history wouldn't repeat itself, and waited tensely for her to start screaming accusations, but none came. Even though he could tell by the look in her eyes that Martina was eating away at her, she kept her cool, at least on the surface.
Walking up to her, he put his hands on either side of her, trapping her body between himself and the balcony rail.
Leaning back a bit, she looked up at him, and her eyes drifted to his lips as he spoke.
“Actually, I didn't chat with her. I left because I wanted to be with you, my beautiful wife, the only woman I want or need comfort from.”
Knowing the earlier scene wasn't his fault, she felt a stab of guilt and closed her eyes as his lips slowly descended on hers. She sighed contentedly as he pulled her into his arms, then wrapped her own arms around his waist and returned the kiss with equal passion. When she felt his hands slowly rise to cup her full breasts she felt as if an electrical current began running through her body, settling at her throbbing center. But the moment was lost as she suddenly remembered Martina's words earlier. Without even realizing it herself, she suddenly stiffened in his embrace.
Pulling back, he looked into her wide eyes and murmured, “I promised to go slow, and I
will.” The words seemed to be more for his sake than for hers.
Thankful that he understood her uncertainty, she breathed a sigh of relief and rested her head on his hard chest. “Thank you for understanding.” she mumbled.
Resting his chin on her silky hair and caressing her back with both his hands, he replied, “Come on, there are some things I want to give you.”
Curious, she stepped back and took his hand in hers, allowing him to lead her to the sitting room.
Once there he pulled her down onto the couch next to him, then retrieved the thick package from the coffee table.
“What's that?” she asked, mystified and nervous at the same time.
As he opened the package, he explained. “These are copies of your important documents. Birth certificate, our marriage license, so forth and so on.” he said as he began pulling items out one at a time and handing them to her. “And here...” he replied as he dug deeper, “...here are your own personal credit cards, with no limit. If you can think of any others you prefer other than these, just tell Malcolm, and he'll see to it that you get them. And last but not least, here's your personal banking information, your accounts and balances in each.” he finished as he handed her a checking, then savings booklet.
Opening the checkbook first, her eyes nearly bugged out of her head, and her jaw dropped as she saw the balance contained seven figures. Shaking her head back and forth in denial, she flipped it shut and tried to hand it back. “Granger, I can't take this, I just can't. I'm sorry.”
Amused at her reaction, he made no move to take the booklet from her. “Cass, this is your money. You know, from before. Even after you went missing the accounts were kept active, and your personal investments were maintained.”
“Mine?” she asked weakly, feeling numb from head to toe.
“Oh, there's something else.” he replied as he picked his suit jacket up from the couch and rummaged inside one pocket. Pulling a tiny, elegant velvet box from the pocket, he opened it in silence and watched as her eyes grew even wider, if that was possible. Inside
laid
a ten-carat antique horizontal set marquise diamond with a band. “I had this shipped here overnight from the estate. This was, I mean is, also yours. Listen, I know we're supposed to go slow, but I would consider it a great honor if you would start wearing it again. I want every man alive to know you're married to me.”
Still speechless, she glanced down at his hand and noticed for the first time that he was wearing his wedding band.
Has he been wearing his ring all this time?
She
couldn't help but wonder. But on some deep level, she instinctively knew he had. Taking a deep breath,
she slowly extended her hand and allowed him to slide the beautiful rings on her finger.
This is real. I'm actually married to this man...
the thought finally hit home with incredible force as she sat mesmerized by the sparkling brilliance of the diamond.
Unable to read the expression on her face, Granger sat in nervous silence, wanting to speak, but fearing she would bolt if he did so.
Shaking her head as if snapping out of a trance, she stood uncertainly and began gathering the documents, the bankbooks and credit cards, which she placed in her purse. Still unable to look at him, she mumbled, “Thanks, Granger, thank you for everything, but right now I really need to get home and absorb all of this. Mom's waiting for me, I promised to take her to my favorite restaurant.”
Here it comes.....
.Granger sighed, knowing she was pulling away. “Well, you see, your mother is already on her way here. I told her to bring some of your personal items, and a few outfits. Would you like something to drink while we wait?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.
Unable to help it, Cassandra's face suddenly burned with anger. While it didn't bother her that he wanted her to stay, the fact that he never bothered to ask her what she wanted to do did perturb her. “No, I don't want a drink, I want you to take me home. Or better yet, get your driver to take me home!” she snapped.
“Cass, would you please lighten up? I thought it would be nice to spend time together, and I would be more than happy to take both you and your mother out to dinner.”
Suddenly feeling like the world's biggest ingrate, she looked away sheepishly and muttered, “Alright, I'll stay in my mother's room, I'm assuming you made a reservation for her too? You've thought of everything else.”
“Yes, she's in room 809, just three doors down, to the left.” he replied.
“Thanks.” she muttered with all the conviction of a ventriloquist dummy, then left without a backward glance.
Feeling the familiar weight of defeat, he picked his cell phone up, deciding to handle some business. Not only to keep his own mind preoccupied, but to give her time to cool off.
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Brett stared at the fireplace in brooding silence, sipping three fingers of Chivas Regal from a crystal tumbler. He hadn't heard from Cassandra, and that alone gave him an uneasy feeling, but his blood was still boiling at the
thought
of his earlier conversation with her mother, Jocelyn Ames. Anxiously, he had driven to Cassandra's apartment, but was greeted by her mother instead. Even though he had tried to be pleasant, he had been greeted with a
stern look that bordered on hatred:
“Hello, Mrs. Ames, I came to check on Cassandra.”
Her dark eyes still glaring daggers at him, she had replied in a cold voice, “She's not here, her HUSBAND came and picked her up, she'll be staying with him.”
The smug manner in which the old bat had said it still rankled him, but he had managed at the time to maintain his composure, somehow.
Putting his best foot forward, he smiled as he handed her a small bag containing prescription pill bottles. “Mrs. Ames, please, could you see to it she gets these? It's very important that she stays on her medication. Can you give me a number where I can reach her? Just so I can make sure her husband hasn't caused her any set-backs.”
“Her husband isn't the one I'm worried about hurting her.” she had snapped, then snatched the bag from his hand and slammed the door in his face.
Cursing loudly, he suddenly hurled the tumbler into the empty fireplace in frustration.
“Let me guess, you're mooning over that bitch Cassandra again.” Martina mocked as she sauntered into the room.
Turning to face her, he saw she was clad in an expensive, revealing, slinky red dress. It looked as if she was about to go out for a night on the town. “It seems Granger spirited her away, his growing influence is causing me problems. Her mother gleefully informed me that she's taking up residence with that bastard now.” he muttered.
Frowning, she thought,
Well, now I have no choice but to pay Zeke to get rid of the little bitch
. “I saw them earlier, having lunch at that little restaurant in the Flagstone Inn. As you may know, he has a suite there.” she said, and smiled inwardly as she saw the rage building in him. She knew she could use his anger to her advantage. His relentless obsession and pursuit of the little trollop would make it difficult for Granger to work on rebuilding their marriage. “I tell you, it was sickening, watching him practically screwing her right there in the restaurant.” she added. “And from what I saw, your precious little Cassie was behaving like a common gutter slut, letting his hands rove all over that ghetto body of hers. And in public, to boot!”
Unable to bear the thought, he suddenly growled like a rabid dog, grabbed his car keys from the bar, then headed for the front door with Martina hot on his heels.
“Brett, sweetie-kins...Breeeetttttt, where are you going?” she asked innocently, wishing with every fiber of her being that she could accompany him to watch the fireworks she knew were sure to come.
“I have to see her! The
BASTARD!!!
” he shouted as he opened the front door, stepped
outside, then slammed it shut behind him.
Pressing her ear to the door, she listened as his Mercedes roared to life, backed out of the driveway, then pulled out, tires screeching
Giggling like an insane schoolgirl, she practically skipped to the bar to pour herself a drink.“Yippeee! Go Brett,
GO
! There'll be no romance in the air tonight!” she squealed with delight as she clapped her hands.
Chapter 27
After going to her mother's suite and knocking on the door (her mother had not yet arrived) Cassandra decided to treat herself to the spa Granger had mentioned. Seeing how she was dressed, the spa manager had been condescending and snotty towards her at first, but turned instant ass-kisser the moment she whipped her platinum card out.
She couldn't remember in the past three years ever being so pampered. She went the whole nine yards. Full-body massage, manicure, pedicure, even a new hairstyle. Instead of the plain, straight style she was used to, she was now sporting a head full of curls, some of which framed her lovely face, and even got a bit of coloring done with sable and golden highlights.
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Walking into Deja Boutique, Cassandra was greeted by an unbelievably thin young woman with a black pixie cut with purple ends.
“Hi, I'm Katie, may I help you?” the young woman asked.
“Uhhh, actually, I'm just looking for causal outfits.” she replied as she glanced around the store.
“Follow me.” the woman smiled. “I'll show you some of my favorites, they're perfect for you.”
Following the woman doubtfully, she cursed herself for being suckered in so quickly. She doubted the girl would have the same tastes she did, those tastes being on the conservative side. It had been her fashion sense for the past three years, in any event.
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Trying on the fourth outfit the clerk had suggested, a caramel colored pants suit that blended beautifully with her skin tone, she had to admit the girl had excellent taste.
Looking at the expensive price tag, she chuckled as she thought of her protests only hours earlier when Granger had given her the credit cards.
Well, you certainly got used to spending money in a hurry
... she thought.
“Try this one on.” Katie smiled as she handed her a lavender skirt and sweater set. “Of course you'll need a matching purse and pair of shoes, but we have a great selection of those as well.”
Quickly changing, Cassandra felt like a little girl playing dress up. Looking in the mirror to make sure the skirt didn't fit too snuggly on her round bottom, she surprised herself by muttering, “I wonder if Granger will like this.” Stepping out of the small dressing room, she was startled by a male voice close by.
“That looks really great on you. Sexy, but very classy. The man you wear that for will be proud to show you off.”
Turning, she saw a tall, well dressed, reasonably handsome, forty-ish man standing there, and the manner in which his moss colored eyes were openly appraising her figure made her a bit uneasy, but she wasn’t exactly afraid of the man either.