How Cat Got a Life (6 page)

It caught her like a volcano, the eruption of pleasure that seized her. Waves of ecstasy crashed over her, making her body buck on the table. Brock slipped his arm around her waist and held her, her shoulders bent back over his strength as he sheltered her through the slowly subsiding contractions that rocked her on the hard timber.

Still he didn’t speak.

Her lids lifted, heavy and listless in the aftermath of the shattering release. She saw Brock’s throat move as he swallowed. A flush tinged his cheeks, and a muscle leaped at the side of his jaw. Beads of perspiration shone on his skin. Every fiber of his being trembled, and suddenly it dawned upon Cat what incredible control he must exercise over his body and mind.

The passion that had swept her along reached out for him, sought to share, give as well as take. She raised one hand, languid and dreamy, and brushed her fingers in a feathery touch over his straining erection.

“No,” he said. Then he released her and stepped away.

Cat flinched, as much from the sharpness of his tone as from nearly toppling over on the table when he withdrew the support of his arm.

“I…why…?” She shook her head, confused. Cool air bathed her burning skin, and suddenly the dark square of the window reminded her of the world outside.

“I can’t,” Brock said. “I don’t believe in sex outside marriage.”

“You don’t believe in sex outside marriage?” Anger stirred.

“No.”

“So, what was this?” She swept a hand across her body. Awareness of her disheveled state dissipated the hazy aftermath of satisfaction. She sat up and pulled her bra down to cover her breasts.

“It was…foreplay,” Brock replied, but his voice lacked conviction.

“Foreplay?” Cat made an unladylike snort. “Why didn’t you tell me beforehand that you don’t want me? Before you…”

“Before what?” His face darkened. “Before I gave you an orgasm that made you scream with pleasure and writhe in my arms?”

Fury, shame and disappointment fought inside her. “Karen should have warned me that you have such antiquated principles.”

“Karen? How the hell would she have known? I don’t discuss my sex life with my deputies.”

“It’s the sort of thing that becomes known in a small town.” Cat huffed out an angry sigh and began to button her blouse. “God, I can just see people snickering at me, for trying to seduce the local pillar of virtue.”

“I’m not a pillar of virtue.”

“Then why…?” She glanced up at him from beneath her lashes. “I’d like to know why. This is the second time this has happened to me. In the case of my late husband, he refused sex before marriage because he didn’t want me to find out he was impotent. What’s your explanation?”

“I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.” Brock turned to pace the room, raking his fingers through his hair. He threw her a look mixed with anger and defeat. “I might be many things, but by now you should have discovered that impotent isn’t one of them.”

“I think you owe me an explanation,” she said softly.

He shot another glance at her, then stopped in front of the dark window and stared outside. “I was brought up with old-fashioned values. When I went to college, I discovered a different world. I brought that world home with me. I’d never slept with my high school girlfriend before, but when I did, I came face to face with the fact that she still lived in that old-fashioned world. She expected me to marry her, and so did everyone else. I caved in to pressure, and for the next ten years I paid for my mistake.”

“Oh Brock,” Cat said in an aching whisper, but he didn’t turn around.

“I tried my hardest to make her happy. Money was always a problem because of the medical bills, and I had to take all the overtime I could. In the end it just wore me out. I felt almost as much relief as grief when she died.” He turned to her now, pain burning in his eyes. “I swore that I’ll never put myself in a position again where I’m expected to marry someone just because I’ve slept with her.”

Pity unfurled inside her. The only way of soothing his pain Cat could think of was to share her own miserable history.

“I gave up my job when I was twenty-nine to nurse my mother who had cancer. She died two years later. I took a holiday after the funeral. I’d done rock-climbing at college, so I did an outdoor activity course. Dalton was fourteen. He was on the same course, and we were paired on climbs. Despite the age difference, we hit it off. Dalton is an enchanting mix of high intelligence and old fashioned good manners and naïve innocence. He introduced me to his father. I was swept off my feet and three weeks later we were married. Tim, my late husband, hadn’t told me he had been diagnosed with terminal cancer. He’d tricked me into marrying him. I had told Dalton that I’d nursed my mother, so Tim knew I could handle caring for someone about to die, and he knew I got on well with his son. He married me so he would have a companion for the final stages of his illness and someone to take care of Dalton after he was gone.”

“When did you find out?”

“He told me on our wedding night. Partly to explain why he was impotent, and partly because he’d had a pang of ill conscience and thought he’d give me a chance to back out.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“How could I?” Cat exhaled a tired sigh. “Dalton’s mother died when he was small. He had no relatives who could take him in. I couldn’t just walk away and leave him to care for his dying father and then be shut away in a children’s home.” She tried to smile at Brock through the haze of tears. “Or maybe I was just too used to being needed, too afraid to resume my life after my mother passed away. Whatever the reason, I chose to stay, but I felt chained into a marriage that didn’t give me anything it was meant to. I have absolutely no desire to get married again. And if I ever do, I’ll insist on sleeping with the man beforehand to make sure he can satisfy my needs.”

She slid down from the table and straightened her skirt. “And now, I suggest that you take me home. I won’t be in tomorrow. You can tell Karen and Walter goodbye from me.”

Brock gave an awkward shrug. “I have to be at court tomorrow. You’ll be safe from my presence in the office, in case you want to drop by.”

While he drove her back to the hotel, Cat sat in silence beside him, her back rigid and her face expressionless. Only when she got to her room did her composure crack. She threw herself on the bed and burst into bitter tears of humiliation, frustration, and loneliness.

Chapter Four

“I hear Brock took you to the concert at the library last night.” Karen bit into a chicken wrap. “The town’s all agog.”

Cat stirred milk into her coffee. Unable to suppress her sense of duty, she had come to work as usual, knowing she wouldn’t need to face Brock. “There’s nothing much to be agog about,” she replied. “My stepson bullied him into asking me. Dalton is petrified that I’ll cling to him and stop him from enjoying the debauchery of student life. He thought Brock might be a suitable distraction.”

“That he certainly is—a distraction.” Karen rolled her eyes, something she liked to do when words failed her.

Cat managed a smile. All night, she’d battled to regain her equilibrium. Her nerves still grated raw, and her hands didn’t feel quite steady. Disappointment and shame lurked beneath the surface, but her impeccable manners and willpower helped her to present a calm front.

“A distraction even to a married woman with a newborn baby?” she asked.

“Being married doesn’t make me blind. I can still admire, in a platonic way.”

In the past four years, Cat had told herself that she had no friends because she’d been too busy with responsibilities, too worn out from looking after others, but the truth was that she didn’t trust people easily and tended to pull back from overtures of friendship. Now it crossed her mind that the small kernel of affection between her and Karen could grow if nurtured.

“Karen,” she said. “I’d like to keep in touch. I expect to come down again at the end of term. Perhaps we could get together for lunch. Not here, but somewhere in town. I’d like to take you out to thank you for all your help this week.”

“That would be nice.” Karen lowered her sandwich and fiddled with the wrapper. “Brock’s a good man, you know. He’s had a difficult time, and he wears the scars. Don’t write him off just yet. Give him a chance.”

A denial of any interest in him hovered on her tongue. Cat drew a deep breath. If she wanted to have friends, she needed to learn to open up.

“I’ve had my own difficulties.” She told Karen about Tim and her marriage.

“He was impotent? So, if you don’t mind me asking, how long ago…?”

“It’s more than four years since I slept with a man.” Cat’s lips twisted in a rueful smile. “So, you can see that Brock’s not the only one around here with baggage to ditch.”

Karen shook her head in disbelief. Then her eyes sparkled. “Hey, why don’t you apply for the opening we have for a secretary? You said you need a job. It would sure liven up things here, you and Brock working together.

Cat scrunched up her sandwich wrapper and dropped it in the trash. “I’m not going to become your personal reality dating show, thank you very much.”

But when she packed her briefcase and drove back to the Hillside Inn, she had to admit Karen’s idea held certain crazy merit.

****

“Kitty. Kitty.” The little girl in pigtails tossed the beach ball along the lawn.

Cat laughed. “No.
Cat
. My name is Cat, not Kitty.”

“Kitty.”

“All right then.” She collected the ball and tossed it back to the girl.

The clear sky had chased away the autumn cool and her skin felt tender after two hours in the sunshine. From the corner of her eye, she kept an eye on Dalton and the pretty brunette organizing a volley ball game for the older kids.

Instinct told her that Marybeth was like Sandra and would expect a wedding ring in exchange for her virginity. Cat made a mental note to discuss the topic with Dalton, make sure the boy understood the way of things.

A sense of parental responsibility had brought her out to the children’s home, even at the risk that Dalton might think she was smothering him. After meeting the high school student who was the object of his interest, Cat had carefully kept away from the pair, loitering in the garden, trying to form an idea of how serious Dalton was, so she could find the right tone when she talked to him about the girl.

Reluctant to return to the hotel and face the sense of failure and rejection that had filled the sleepless night, Cat had accepted the invitation to play with some of the younger children.

“Sheri. Sheri.”

Tammy, the little girl, ignored the bouncing ball and tore down the gravel path with wobbly legs.

Oh no.

Cat glanced around for a means of escape, but a high hedge surrounded the yard from three sides. Along the only possible exit route, Brock Leonetti scooped the little girl in his arms and walked over. The faded jeans clung to his narrow hips. He’d rolled up the sleeves of the casual white shirt, exposing corded forearms, and as he came to a halt, Tammy gripped his collar, popping open enough buttons to reveal an expanse of hard muscle sprinkled with crinkly black hair.

“Sheri. Play with Kitty.”

Cat sucked in a breath. Of the million things the child could have said, why did she have to pick that?

“Sure,” Brock said, with an enigmatic look in her direction. He lowered Tammy to the lawn and picked up the beach ball, tossing it to Cat.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled, frantically trying to control the fiery surge of blood to her face. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Brock tucked his chin down as he buttoned up his shirt. “I sometimes come by on Saturdays. Practice, in case one day I have kids of my own.” He smiled at her and flicked his hand, inviting her to toss the ball back.

She hurled it at him with all her might. Why did he have that predatory glint in his eagle eyes? Wasn’t rejecting her enough for his masculine ego? Why did he have to taunt her, oozing sex appeal and tugging at her heartstrings with the display of the little girl in his arms?

“Whoa. You sure pack a punch.” He caught the brightly colored ball with ease. “But I guess I already knew that.”

“Sheri, Sheri.” Tammy wrapped herself around Brock’s leg and stared up at him in worship. He flung the ball to the ground and picked up the child. Tammy threw her arms around his neck and smacked a kiss on his freshly shaven cheek.

“Kitty kiss Sheri,” Tammy said, shifting in Brock’s lap to point at Cat.

Cat backed up a step, but to her utter confusion Brock settled Tammy in the crook of his arm and came after her. He draped his other arm across her shoulders and folded her close, pressing a soft kiss on her forehead.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her quietly. “She is just trying to create a family for herself for a brief moment, the way she sees families getting together in television commercials.”

Her head snapped straight and she stared at Brock. The tenderness in his expression knifed right through her heart. Her own troubles, the year in a loveless marriage and the loneliness of her responsibility for Dalton paled in comparison to the yearning of a child without a family. Tears sprung to her eyes, and she couldn’t keep them in, couldn’t stop them from falling. Warm and wet, they rolled down her cheeks.