Sweet Seduction Surrender (16 page)

"I'm afraid I would have to charge significantly for this, Richard," I tentatively said. If I was going to put myself through this, then damn it, I would make it worth my while. "It is highly unusual, and could interfere significantly with the time I need in order to meet your deadline."

"Of course, I understand and would expect nothing less. You don't seem to be the sort of business woman who would sell herself short. And to be honest, Catherine, you
would
be doing me a favour. I just don't have the time myself and after talking to Brook, was that his name? It all fell into place. How much of a coincidence is it that my designer has inside access to a top notch security firm? This would kill two birds with one stone for me. I could not be happier. So, please, my dear, charge away."

Something about this made me feel uncertain. Maybe it was just the unexpectedness of it. The new territory it would make me traverse. Not to mention the fact that I would dearly like to have nothing to do with Nick and his men right now. But whatever the reason was, it would be rather irrelevant in the end. This could well end up as a very lucrative deal for me. And truthfully, all I would be doing would be liaising with ASI on Richard's behalf.

"All right, then," I said, with a smile. "We'll finalise the pieces tonight, have you sign a contract, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Ah, Catherine, you are a dream come true," Richard said, as we pulled up outside a wine bar in Mission Bay.

The rest of the evening went uneventfully. We sipped delicious wine in a softly lit and cosy atmosphere, and managed to pin down exactly what pieces Richard wanted on display and roughly where they would go. The how would be left up to me, but I'd worked with artwork my entire career. I knew exactly the right way to make a piece shine.

By the end of our
date
I was eager to get on with the project. Even the notion of incorporating security measures into my time wasn't a hardship any longer. The passion for design had surpassed all other slightly negative emotions and I was floating on a joyous cloud of anticipation. I even thought I might get a few sketches down before I headed to bed, despite it being well after midnight when the Lexus pulled up at my front gate.

In order to have Richard sign a contract, I had to invite him inside. Which was a little unnerving, what with the late hour and the few glasses of wine I'd had. But he waited in the lounge for me to retrieve the papers, not bothering to sit in a comfy chair. And signed the documents with only a brief scanning before committing ink to paper. I'd used a generic contract, and quickly incorporated a few caveats about pricing and the security consulting I would be required to do. Other than that, it was fairly vague. Just a commitment on both our parts. For me; the completion of the project in a given time-frame, and for Richard; payment of the final price up to a certain maximum limit. I'd been generous in the baseline quote, but he hadn't even blinked an eyelash when he read it.

After the deed was done, he stood upright, lazy smile in full swing... and then looked at his watch.

"It's getting rather late and I have an early start. Will you forgive me if I don't stay for a nightcap." I hadn't offered him one, but was immensely relieved with his need to leave straight away.

"Not at all," I replied, walking to the doorway and opening it up to the night air.

He stopped on the threshold, turned back and looked at me keenly. The security lights had come on as soon as the door opened and he was backlit by brilliant white.

"I enjoyed tonight," he murmured, his lids lowering slightly with his voice. I held my breath, hoping he'd just depart and not attempt anything uncomfortable for both of us.

But if wishes could be horses....

He leaned forward, his hands coming up and lightly grasping my upper arms to stop any backward movement I might have endeavoured, and kissed me on the lips.

It was pleasant, his lips soft and warm. But that was all, really. Other than an uncomfortable feeling that grew as I didn't allow him to deepen the moment. He pulled back slightly irritated, I think. At least he looked put-out when my reluctant eyes met his.

"Good night, Catherine," he said formally. "Please phone me when the design is ready to be viewed."

And with that he spun on his heels and disappeared into the night.

I let a much relieved breath of air out and shut the door behind me. I was really unsure of what I was doing. Perhaps this was a huge mistake. Business and pleasure never mixed well, and especially not in my current frame of mind.

After gathering myself sufficiently, I took a step away from the door, intending to switch the lights off in the lounge and head to my office and jot some ideas down. No more than that one step away and a soft knock interrupted my plans. I spun back around and glared at the closed door, thinking, as my stomach fell, that Richard must have changed his mind.

I wasn't sure if I was up to fending off his advances. Everything was just so messed up, the night had been a roller coaster, I really didn't think I had any fight left in me.

My hand shook as I turned the knob on the door and swung it open. My eyes bulged, a gasp left my lips, as my chest ached for more reasons than just the sudden increase in speed of my heart.

"Did you even check the peep-hole?" Jason demanded, in his signature telling-off attitude, arms crossed over broad chest, scowl in place.

Oh, good Lord. Could this day get any worse?

"What are you doing here?" I managed to say, unoriginally.

"We need to talk," he replied, then promptly pushed past me, without waiting for an invitation, and walked into the lounge.

He glanced around, as though he was looking for something, but obviously didn't find it. Or maybe he did, because his shoulders relaxed and he took a seat on the couch. He lifted tired looking chocolate brown eyes up to mine.

My heart clenched. It hurt. For a moment I couldn't tell if it was remembered pain at what he had done, or the sight of him looking so uncertain, so defeated, so lost. I didn't want to feel anything for him, but I'd be a rotten liar if I said that I wasn't aching to soothe away his pains.

I forced myself to fold my arms over my chest defiantly, and stay standing, glaring back at the man who had broken my heart. God, I was certain I couldn't do this. It was tearing me apart.

"Kate," he said, and oh damn! His voice cracked on my name.

I couldn't do this. I started shaking my head back and forth.

"Baby," he said, getting to his feet and crossing the space to stand before me. "Shhh," he added, making me realise I'd started to whimper aloud.

He didn't touch me, just hovered, that uncertain look carved into his face. I sucked in a deep breath and told myself to harden up. Taking a few much needed steps away. Space. I needed space to deal with this.

"Why are you here?" I asked, once I'd placed half the room between us.

He looked blank for a second, adrift, but he was standing right there. I'd
never
seen Jason Cain this way before. A shadow of the man he'd once been. A haunted, vague representation of the omnipresent person he'd always appeared to be.

OK. So, something was definitely off. I studied him for a brief moment, waiting to see if his usual take-no-prisoners attitude fell back into place. It didn't. And the longer it took, the harder it was not to reach out to him. To offer comfort, to reassure.

But, I couldn't. I
wouldn't
.

"What's going on, Jason?" I asked, keeping my voice level, not soft.

He shook his head, sucked in a deep breath, and then ran his palm over his face. In that same move he'd made at Dom and Gen's tonight. A move I'd never seen Captain Jason Cain effect.

I was beginning to feel entirely too uncomfortable, Jason's out of character behaviour throwing me for a loop.

"I..." he started, then looked around the room for inspiration. "I came to tell you..." He stopped mid-sentence again. Sucked in another breath, while my heart silently folded. "I owe you an explanation," he finally managed to get out.

Yes, he did. But I wasn't sure I was ready to hear it, even with him acting so bizarrely. Hadn't my heart taken enough of a battering for one lifetime? Must it take even more?

"I don't know, Jason," I said, my voice softening without my permission. "Two weeks," was all I could manage to say.

His hand came up and rubbed across his chest, above his heart. I don't think he knew he was doing it. And oh, dear God. No.
This
Jason would break me, if I let him.

"You should go," I whispered.

"You won't hear me out?" he asked, sounding a little more like the Jason I knew. His stunned reaction making his voice strengthen in surprise.

"I can't do this," I said under my breath, then headed toward the front door. I opened it, and waited for him to move.

For a surreal suspended moment in time I watched him assess the situation, take in my rigid stance by the open door, the obvious message I was relaying. And I thought he'd cave. I thought he'd do what I asked and leave. And a part of me, I hadn't even realise existed, baulked at that idea.

I was angry with him. Hurt by what he had done. But I did not want to see Jason Cain leave with his tail between his legs. That was not the Jason I knew.

He walked slowly towards me, his eyes locked on mine. My heart thundered, my fists clenched, and I willed my eyes not well with threatening tears.

Where are you, Jason? Come back.

What the hell had happened to make this man lose so much of himself in just two short weeks?

And I knew, right then, that if he stopped, that if he showed me even a hint of the old Jason, I would listen. Because he was battling something deep inside himself right now, and if he had the courage to stand against it, to fight for what he used to be, then the least I could do was hear him out.

But he made it to the door without a word. He even took a step outside. My heart fell, my shoulders sagged, and I realised it was over. He'd fucked up, I'd been hurt too much to allow him any purchase back in. This was it.

And I didn't want it to be, even though it hurt still. Even though I was petrified of being hurt more. I did not want this to be the end.

This was not how Jason and I parted.

Was it?

I lifted my eyes to his, as he'd stopped on my doorstep and turned around. That pull I'd always felt was still there. That desire to lean closer, to inhale more deeply, to reach out and touch. It hadn't been drowned in amongst the pain, it was still as strong as ever.

Oh, damn.

"I was in the Army for fifteen years," he said from out of nowhere. "Ten of those in the SAS. Eight as Captain of my squad." He stopped talking to take a breath, his eyes staring down the hallway behind me, faraway. Then, "It was a big part of my life."

I wasn't sure what to be relieved about the most. The fact that he hadn't given up, or the fact that he was opening up about his time in the military. A time I knew had left an indelible mark.

I'd known this. Not the details, mind you, but the depth of connection Jason had to the New Zealand Army. I'd also known how hard it was for him to be dismissed. All because he was defending his sister against a gun-toting lunatic ex. But he'd fired a weapon, whilst not on orders from his superiors, and killed a civilian. Warranted or not, the Army had let him go.

Jason has had difficulty accepting this, I think. It's only a guess, evidenced by his behaviour since then. And now he didn't even work for Nick in private security. Now he had no job. No anchor to keep him safe.

My throat constricted with the overriding empathy I felt at those thoughts.

"It's not an excuse," he continued. "I just thought you should know that." I blinked at him, his eyes were shadowed, much like his face was now. Much like, I was beginning to realise, his heart was, too.

He was suffering and despite what he'd done, all I wanted to do was ease his pain.

When I didn't urge him to leave, but just stood there, openly watching him, waiting for more, he went on.

"I know you've cottoned on to what sort of man I am, Kate," he said, leaning forward to rest his hands on either side of the door frame, by my head. "You do, don't you?" he queried, as if he doubted his previous statement.

"You're a dominant," I said softly, but surprisingly without any embarrassment. It was who Jason was and I'd obviously accepted it.

He nodded, a look of relief flashing across his face.

"I'm not a sadist. I'm not into whips and paddles, hot wax or nipple clamps. It's not like that. I don't derive pleasure out of someone's pain. I just... I just need the control. I need to be in control." He ducked his head, breathing deeply, then whispered in a voice that cracked a fissure right through my heart, "It's intensified since I left the Army." The admission cost him something. He didn't raise his head again after that.

I stood there, unable to move for the moment. Not necessarily stunned, because I wasn't. I'd almost expected this. But a part of me ached for Jason. For what he must have seen and done as an elite soldier in the special forces. Of the person he must have become because of it. And now, the person he had be to exist without it.

He was lost. In more ways than I had realised.

I closed my eyes slowly at that knowledge. The knowledge that explained so very much. I still felt anger at him for walking away from me without a backward glance. I still felt fear that even letting him in this far would cause me more pain. But I think, maybe, there was a burgeoning sensation of understanding, or at least, acknowledgement that Jason was a messed up man, and he regretted what had happened as much as me. That it may have been a mistake, brought on by whatever made Jason who he now was.

I opened my eyes and looked across the small space between us. Jason's head had come up enough for him to view me through his lashes. Pain etched a picture in his eyes, across his firm jaw, through his rigid stance. I held his gaze and didn't turn away from him.

"I want to tell you what I've seen." He spoke slowly, as though he was carefully choosing each word. "What it's done to me. But..." he sucked in a deep breath, ran that hand over his face again, then abruptly pulled back from his position resting on the door frame. "It doesn't excuse my behaviour with you," he admitted, eyes alight with turmoil and, I think,
fear
. It wasn't what he was originally going to say, I could tell by his tone. It wasn't a deflection as such, I think it was more to do with the fact that he simply wasn't ready to talk about his experiences yet.

I hoped one day he would be ready. And then I wondered if I was.

Although my chest hurt and my eyes burned with unshed tears, all on his behalf, I was not going to easily forget the past fortnight. It had been my hell on earth. And all because of him. I wanted to be the better person, and let him off the hook with compassion and understanding. But there was a part of me that still smarted. God, that was still broken, by what he had done.

"Two weeks, Jason," I semi-repeated, voice soft. Even if I felt compelled to address this with him, I still had no real desire to hurt him with my words either. It was such a conflicting place to be. Angry at being hurt so badly. Heartbroken not only for me, but now, more so for him. And finally, I simply missed him and wanted to believe he missed me.

So short a time he was entwined in my heart and life. And now I felt like that was a part of me I'd never have back again.

"I'm sorry, Kate," he said slowly, with meaning, making eye contact throughout each word. "I'm so sorry," he added, shifting forward on the stoop until I could feel his breath wash across my lips. "I never meant to hurt you," he continued, chest rising and falling too rapidly. Matching mine.

I couldn't move. His apology was heartfelt, I could tell. But the defeat and broken look I'd seen in his face, nearly brought me to my knees. For a moment I battled with these new emotions, as they warred with those I'd felt for the past two weeks. How did you get over that? How did I move on from here? Do I move on with him?

"Jason," I said, sorrow coating every syllable of his name. He closed his eyes and dipped his head. "You hurt me, Jason," I whispered. "You broke me," I managed to get out, but the words were almost unintelligible.

He must have heard them, because a hitched sound escaped his lips. He leaned forward slowly, hesitantly, breathing erratically... then finally touched me, by nestling his face into the curve of my neck.

Tortured bliss. Oh, dear God, he was close to crumbling apart, and I was right there with him.

"I'm so sorry, baby. I made a mistake. A fucked in the head mistake. But even as I made it, I knew it was wrong." He was rambling now, desperate to get the confession out. His lips feathering against my sensitive skin, as he hurriedly murmured each word. "I knew it wasn't what I wanted to do," he continued. The only part of his body touching mine was his mouth and breath. Oh, I longed for more. And I also wanted the strength to turn away. He'd hurt me, but then he'd been hurting too. "But I was confused and uncertain," he went on, "and Nick saw through it all and twisted my thoughts further."

What?
Nick? My brother? What on earth did he have to do with this?

I didn't get a chance to voice those stunningly important words, because Jason was on a roll of confession here and he wasn't even stopping to suck in breaths.

"But it's not just that, Kate. I
let
him. Fuck, baby, I let him pull me away from you. I don't deserve you, Kate. You're too good for me and even now I don't know if you can handle the demands I'll want to make. But I can't stop it. I want you so badly. I want every inch of you. I want your body. I want your heart. Fuck, baby, I want your very soul."

And with that my heart shattered, and through some miracle started to mend again. How could I not be affected by that raw and honest admission? How could I turn away now? His whole body was heaving with barely controlled emotions, his lips were desperately brushing soothing kisses against the skin on my neck. I felt his pain, as though it was mine. I felt his desperation, as though it was mine. I felt his regret, as though, it too, was mine. I felt it all, and it humbled me, scared me, and gave me hope.

But, Nick? I couldn't get my head around it, even as a part of me replayed all of Nick's words at the barbecue in my mind.

"He's the wrong man for you. Katie, I know more than you do. You're just going to have to trust me. Stay away from him. OK?"

Nick knew what Jason had suffered. Nick knew how affected Jason was by his time in the Army. Nick knew everything that Jason couldn't yet voice to me. And he'd determined that I couldn't handle someone as broken as Jason Cain. Nick,
my brother
, had decided to end our burgeoning relationship before it had a real chance of starting. He interfered. He
fucked
not only with me, but with Jason.