The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels (29 page)

Drake folded his arms and thought for a moment. "Put the idea together and present it to me."

Patrick slapped him on the arm, triumphant "Looks like you're stuck with me."

"Hmm. Keep up the good work."

Patrick grinned and walked away. Eric stared at his brother.

"What?" Drake asked, annoyed.

"Do you have any extra compliments up your sleeve? I'm beginning to feel undervalued."

Drake walked toward the kitchen.

"First Pamela, now Patrick," Eric said in disbelief. "Are you starting a new trend? Actual civility?"

"Shut up."

"You've changed. I know it's Cassie's influence. No one else could work such a miracle. It's nice to see."

Drake pushed through the kitchen doors. "If you don't shut up, you won't be able to."

Eric adjusted his glasses and did.

* * *

Three weeks of self-imposed exile, except for one presentation, and she was finished. Done. Completed. All before schedule. With artistic flourish Cassie hit the Save icon and made up a little cheer. She sat back, exhausted but exhilarated. Her reputation was saved. She stretched the kinks out of her back and neck and mentally patted herself on the back for a job well done.

She turned the ringer back on her telephone and checked her voice mail messages—the usual from Adriana, one from Kevin and Glen, then two strange delayed hang-ups where she could hear breathing. She erased the messages, wondering what to do next. She glanced down at her shabby T-shirt and jeans and thought a shower would suffice, but first she had a call to make.

Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she dialed Drake's number. She was eager to hear his voice again.

"Hello?" a decidedly female voice answered.

Cassie paused, a hot pain shooting through her heart. She took a deep breath, catching hold of her thoughts. Perhaps she'd dialed the wrong number. "I'm sorry, I was trying to reach Drake Henson."

"He's not in. May I take a message?"

Her first instinct was to decline, hang up, and forget Drake had ever entered her life. Her mind repeated Timothy's betrayal like a film reel in Technicolor, carrying all the emotions with it. She had just finished
The Fear of Ridicule
only to discover she was the biggest fool of all. Timothy had said she hadn't been there for him. Would Drake use the same excuse? If he had someone else, she wanted to know. "Just tell him that Cassie called."

"Cassie!" the woman cried as if she were hearing from an old friend. "It's so good to hear from you. Drake's told me you're working on a book."

"Yes, it's completed now," Cassie admitted proudly.

"Congratulations. Hey, why don't you come over and we can celebrate with a strawberry smoothie?"

"All right," she said, catching the woman's enthusiasm.

"Okay, see you in a while." She hung up before Cassie could ask her name. It had to be his sister, she guessed. She must have changed her opinion about her. The one in the bookstore was less than flattering. Of course meeting his sister presented a small dilemma—what to wear. She picked up one of her "hope" dresses, a yellow satin-cotton mix. She had bought it on a buying binge when she'd promised herself to lose weight. She hadn't been able to wear it yet. She shoved it to the back of the closet with the rest and chose a maroon shirt and jeans.

An hour later she was riding the elevator to Drake's condo, with her manuscript in the bag, trying to perfect the smile she would use, wondering what Drake had told his sister and if she would prove to be a shock.

The door was already open when Cassie reached the floor. She was embraced by a petite woman with big eyes and a full grin. She felt like a gigantic blob next to her.

"Come in, come in," the little elf said, pulling Cassie inside with a remarkably strong grip. "It's so good to finally meet you."

Thank God she didn't recognize her from the bookstore. "And you as well, Jackie."

Her smile took up her face. "So he has talked about us. I'm glad." Jackie turned and headed for the kitchen, but continued talking. "He rarely shares anything about us for some reason, so you must be someone special. Sit, sit. This won't take long."

Cassie sat and watched Jackie toss a bowl of strawberries, milk, and ice cubes in a blender, then turn it on. Later, she poured the mixture into two long-stemmed glasses and garnished it with green leaves. She had the same quick efficiency her brother had.

"Delicious!" Cassie said, after taking a sip.

Jackie straddled the chair, her eyes flashing with impish delight. "I'm glad you like it. I was mad at you for a long time, but how can I hate a woman who makes my brother so happy?" She rested her chin in her hands. "It will be nice to have a sister." She grimaced at her own indelicacy. "Forgive me. I sometimes talk before I think."

Cassie nodded in understanding. Unfortunately, once the topic had been introduced Jackie wouldn't leave it.

"But if he did ask you to marry him, you'd say yes, right?"

"I'm not sure I'm the right one for him."

"You make him happy and few people can do that. Case closed."

She was a woman with the guile of a child. Cassie found herself being honest. "I had a bad first marriage so I'm not eager to rush to the altar again."

"No wonder. The word 'altar' always has me thinking of some sort of sacrifice. That's all right. We can have the wedding here." She changed the topic before Cassie could argue. "Drake's been busy at the Red Hut. It's going to be featured in the
Washingtonian
magazine." Cassie shared her surprise and the conversation followed that innocuous track until they heard a key in the lock. Jackie leaped out of her seat and whispered, "Stay here" before she left.

"I got you some-ting," Drake said, greeting his sister in a playful tone.

"I got you some-ting too and I bet mine's betta dan yours," Jackie teased, glad that Cassie had arrived when she did. Only she would notice the drawn look in his eyes despite the genuine smile.

"Here you are, you little nuisance." He handed her a box. She lifted the lid and inside sat a glass figurine of a deer among purple tissue paper. She could add it to her collection. She kissed him soundly on the cheek. "Oh, thank you." She grabbed his arm. "I have a surprise for you."

He easily disengaged from her grip. "Mi haffi shower first."

"But—"

"It can wait. If it's something that will spoil, put it in the fridge." He patted her on the head. "Don't screw up your face like that, I won't be long."

* * *

"I'm sorry," Jackie said to Cassie, falling into a seat. "He decided to take a shower first."

"That's okay."

Jackie rested her chin in her hand, drumming her fingers against her cheek when suddenly the impish expression entered her eyes again. She surged to her feet. "I'm leaving. Wait for him."

She grabbed her things from the couch and pushed Cassie in the direction of the bedroom. She waved a quick good-bye and dashed out the door.

Not knowing what else to do, Cassie entered Drake's bedroom. It greeted her with a comfortable familiarity, its large mahogany bed and dark-accented furniture unchanged, but the flood of emotions that swept around her was anything but familiar. She was too afraid to try and understand them. She sat on the bed and ran her fingers over the shirt he had casually thrown across the bed. Her head snapped up when the bathroom door opened.

Chapter 12

A cloud of steam drifted out, curling around the air in the room. Drake emerged like a magician appearing from a cloud of smoke.

"Jackie, I'll be ready for your surprise in a minute," he called.

He didn't see her since he was drying his face with a hand towel. A large blue towel clung around his waist, while his body still wet from the shower had streams of water sliding over the contours of his chest. Cassie chewed on her lip, fighting the urge to jump on him.

He tossed the rag away and glanced up. Startled amber eyes collided with her own. "Tell me I'm not dreaming," he said. He'd meant to sound casual, but it came out husky.

She laughed breathlessly. "You're not dreaming."

He leaped on the bed like a skilled jungle cat bouncing on his prey, and gathered her close. "Yes, you are real," he whispered, his hands exploring every part of her.

"You're getting me wet."

"I like you wet." He tugged her panties down and explored the liquid heat between her legs. "Especially when you're ready for me."

"I'm ready," she breathed, burying her head against his throat, eager to have him inside her.

"I should make you wait."

She nipped on the soft, sensitive part of his ear. "You wouldn't dare."

He traced an S pattern from her neck to her stomach. "Are there dire consequences for that?"

"Yes." She yanked off his towel, feeling the hardness of his erection against her thigh. She wiggled suggestively against him.

"I don't think I'll risk it." He rolled on a condom, then entered her with the enthusiasm of a novice deep-sea diver looking for a lost world.

Cassie's nails bit into his back.

"Careful, woman, or you'll leave me with scars."

"That's okay, then everyone will know who you belong to."

His lips hovered above hers. "They already do."

He kissed her. She tasted of strawberries and smelled like vanilla. He held her close, his heart pounding in his ears. Twice she whispered his name, but no other words were spoken. Their bodies speaking for their hearts. When it was over, they lay still as if any movement would shatter their joy and reveal that everything had only been a dream. Outside they heard a squirrel race up a tree and a pigeon land on a branch rustling its leaves.

"I never want to do that again," Drake said with feeling, his head buried in the pillow.

Amazed, Cassie lifted herself on her elbow and stared down at him. "I thought it was pretty good."

"I don't mean the sex." He turned on his back and rested an arm over his eyes. "I mean being away from you. I missed you." He suddenly scowled. "And it was annoying." It was also frightening. He wasn't sure if she was keeping him at arm's length for another reason besides the book, but he didn't want to seem untrusting. Or appear like the type of man that didn't give a woman space to be a professional in her own right. But it had been hard not seeing her or hearing from her. He felt as if a vital organ had been ripped from him, causing an aching gap. It felt too much like how his father had expressed losing his mother. It was ridiculous of course. He was nothing like his father. Fortunately, he didn't have to worry anymore. She was here.

Cassie toyed with his flat nipple, still in awe that this beautiful man was hers to claim. "I missed you too, but I had to finish my book."

"Is it safe to assume it's finished?"

"Yes." She briefly held her hands together. "Thank God. Your sister told me the Red Hut is going to be featured in the
Washingtonian.
Are you nervous?"

"Why would I be nervous? The food is excellent, as well as the service, location, atmospherics, and—"

She kissed his nipple. "Forgive me, your lordship," she said humbly. "How could I have made such a suggestion?"

He tenderly stroked her arm. "You're forgiven. So did you bring your manuscript with you?"

"Yes. I don't know why. I usually don't let anyone but my editor see it."

"You can make an exception." He slapped her playfully on the bottom. "Go get it for me."

Cassie sat up, gathering her knees to her chest, unsure.

"I'm waiting."

She reached for her clothes.

"You don't need those."

"I'm not walking around naked." She pulled on her top.

He sighed, disappointed. "Shame."

* * *

Cassie busied herself with a crossword in the newspaper while Drake read. She always felt awkward to be around when someone read her work. It was like having a seat next to the teacher's desk while he graded an exam. She hoped Drake appreciated the acknowledgment she had added, telling her readers that most of the recipes were inspired by the Red Hut and the Blue Mango, two fine restaurants in northwest DC. It was an unnecessary plug since he probably didn't need the extra publicity, but it was her gift to him.

When Drake turned the last page, a tense silence enveloped the room as Cassie awaited the verdict.

"It's great," he said simply.

"Do you really think so?"

He sent her a cool glance. "No, I just said that for effect."

She slapped his arm. "Don't be facety."

"Sorry, but I've always been poor at gushing."

"Try."

Drake rested his head back and then a sly grin spread on his face. "It's excellent, marvelous, magnificent, stupendous, except..."

She stiffened. "Except what?"

He turned to her. "You could do better."

Cassie's stomach dropped as her skin tried to recover from the sting of criticism.

"It's very well written," he continued, unaware of how his words hurt. "But there's a lack of emotion."

"This is a self-help book, not a romance," she said, anger clipping her words.