Worse, Brad couldn’t walk away from the case if he intended to claim his partnership. Everyone else Brad had asked had already turned down the case, even those who would hugely benefit from it. Their caseloads were too full right now. There was no way Brad could adhere to his own personal ethics, or satisfy Cassie, without sacrificing the promotion he’d worked for his entire life.
Brad didn’t know how long he sat there, the engine running, exhaust curling into the chilly winter air, before the knots in his shoulders transformed into the heavy weight of acceptance. He had to tell her. But it could wait a few more hours. It was selfish admittedly, but he needed one more night with her. In the morning, he’d get on a plane. Away from Cassie, he could shove aside the moral compromise of doing the work he was hired to do and focus on his assignment. A month or so from now, when this case resolved, he’d have his partnership. Then he’d be too busy to regret leaving Vail, Colorado, and the incredible Cassandra Blaire.
Sitting upright, he dropped the Cherokee into reverse and backed out of her drive.
…
Brad hadn’t instructed Cassie to do anything other than wait in the bed, but she added a few more touches she hoped wouldn’t earn her additional punishment. Arrangements for later, after he finished with whatever he had planned.
She retrieved a bottle of Cabernet from the wine cellar and set it out to breathe on the nightstand beside two glasses. She took a few minutes to dish up the last of the previous night’s spaghetti on two plates that could be easily microwaved. She hesitated over lighting the bedroom fireplace to keep her from getting chilled. He seemed to get a kick out of handling that task. Instead, she set two thick logs on the mantle along with a new box of long matches.
With nothing else to do, she set about fulfilling his instructions. Her hands shook as she wriggled out of her jeans. The cool air caressed her skin when she pulled off her sweater. She finally managed to strip down to bra and panties.
Setting one knee on the bed, she debated over leaving her undergarments on until she heard the door close. She’d stay warmer that way. If he found out though, she suspected he wouldn’t be happy.
Moreover, leaving them on was chicken. She’d never been particularly afraid of confronting her body, and she wouldn’t become embarrassed now. She’d entrusted herself to him. And as long as she didn’t let logic play tricks on her mind, she wanted to please him.
She backed off the bed and stripped out of her remaining clothing. When she was fully nude, she crawled back onto the bed and lay on her back, staring at the ceiling, flexing her toes to curb the restlessness that stood her nerves on end.
In a dozen years she’d never have imagined that laying on a bed naked, waiting for her lover, could be erotic. But the longer the clock down the hallway ticked away, the longer the sounds of a silent house filled her ears, the more anticipation built. Her mind played fantastic tricks on her body, taunting her with vivid images of how Brad might greet her. Entering the bedroom already fully naked and lowering his fantastic body into hers. Taking off that suit at the foot of the bed, the sound of his rustling clothes scraping delightfully over her skin. Would he touch her first? Or would he stand and look a while, turning her to putty beneath the heated weight of his gaze?
She shifted a leg, discomfort building. What was taking him so long?
Cassie caught herself as her hand drifted over her abdomen. No, she wouldn’t help herself along. Not so much because Brad had warned her off, although that played a part. But because the longer she lay there waiting, the more she realized how right he was—the pleasure intensified when he controlled it. She wanted him to lead her down that path, wanted him to set her free. After all, that’s what had started this crazy, reckless affair.
She tucked her hands beneath the small of her back and crossed her ankles.
The sound of the front door thumping shut banged like a firing rifle. Cassie’s breath caught. Her heart skipped into an erratic rhythm. Her entire body tensed. Brad. She let out a shaky breath.
His familiar footsteps ascended the stairs, moved steadily down the hall. The doorknob turned. At the creak of hinges, her womb clamped, and she sank her teeth into her lower lip to temper the fierce ache of yearning that streaked through her veins. He hadn’t moved inside, yet she could feel the way his eyes roved over her body from the doorway. They would be dark, dangerously aware of every miniscule movement she made.