Jess Michaels (12 page)

Though his words were utterly proper, the expression in his eyes was heated. Cassandra swallowed hard. What was his game? Why bring her here, in front of his family, and toy with her? Why force her to tiptoe around the dangers of their being together in public?

Was this punishment?

No, she didn’t see that in his stare. Heat, yes. An amused twinkle, perhaps. And something a bit deeper, a kindness she hadn’t seen there before.

But no malice.

“Miss Willows?” he repeated, blinking as she stared at him in silence.

She shook her head to erase her thoughts and concentrate. “While I am flattered that you wish to have one of my designs,” she began, giving the girls an apologetic look over her shoulder. “I must tell you how behind I am on my work.” Now she gave Nathan a harder stare. “I have been
much interrupted
of late.”

He seemed to be suppressing a grin, for the corners of his mouth twitched, which of course brought her attention fully to his lips and made her think of the last time he’d kissed her. He had tasted her like fine wine, using every inch of his lips and tongue and even his teeth to bring her ultimate pleasure.

Her thoughts must have shown on her face, for his smile faded and his eyes darkened with growing lust. He shifted somewhat uncomfortably and said, “Certainly you could fit an additional two gowns into your schedule, if you were properly compensated.”

Cassandra drew back. It didn’t seem like he was talking about money. “The compensation would have to be tempting, indeed.”

“I promise you, it shall be. Perhaps you can measure my sisters and speak to them briefly about fabrics and colors and whatever else it is that you seamstresses go on about. Then you and I can speak about the price.”

She tilted her head, exploring his face carefully. Under normal circumstances, she would never,
ever
measure first and negotiate later. But Nathan seemed to be asking her for something. Not demanding, not blackmailing…asking.

Sadly, he was impossible to deny.

She bobbed her head once. “Very well,” she said softly, blocking out the girls’ squeals. “My things are in my carriage.”

“I shall have a servant fetch them,” Lady Worthington said, exiting the room.

As the girls chattered excitedly behind them, Cassandra continued to look up at Nathan. “I am doing this because of my history with your aunt,” she whispered.

He gave her a half smile, as if he didn’t believe her. Nor should he, as it was a terrible lie.

“I understand.”

“But I expect the compensation to be worth the trouble, my lord,” she continued, never breaking their gaze.

His hand stirred at his side, fingers clenching. She stared at him in shock as she realized he had almost touched her with familiarity in front of his family. But instead, he forced his hand back down and shrugged one shoulder.

“I look forward to our negotiation with great anticipation,” he all but purred, then stepped away as his aunt returned with a servant bearing Cassandra’s work tools.

She shivered as she put her back to him and began to sort through her things. In truth, she was looking forward to their “negotiation” as well. Although there was nothing she could
truly gain from spending more time with Nathan other than a broken heart.

Nathan had been well aware, even years before, that Cassandra had an interest in sewing. When he met her, she had already begun working in her father’s shop, helping him with his tailoring business. She had sometimes spoken about her love of design and “the art of the needle,” as she called it.

But he had never watched her in action. It hadn’t even occurred to him to do so, for once he decided to marry her, he assumed she would never sew again, aside from some kind of ladylike needlepoint. So why bother?

Now he watched with wide-eyed interest and respect as she swiftly went about the business of measuring his youngest sister. She was efficient, each movement filled with economy as well as grace. And she had a remarkable eye, steering the girls away from colors that did not suit them without hurting their feelings and urging them toward the most flattering fabrics and designs.

And she did it all with a passion in her eyes that was only matched by her passion in his bed. For the first time, he realized she had far more than an interest in her work. She had a love for it. And she had become a great success by pursuing that love.

Nathan was shocked to find he was proud of her for that. Proud of how talented she was. And aroused as much by her talent as he normally was by her body. She brought so much
passion to her work that he was beginning to think he ought to let her “measure” him as well.

Cassandra made a final mark in the small notebook she held in her hand and then helped Lydia step down from the elevated stool where she had been standing, arms outstretched.

“I believe I have all I need for now,” Cassandra said with a brief smile for the two girls. “I shall bring your gowns here in three days, along with your aunt’s, for the final fitting.”

His aunt smiled. “I shall make the arrangements for a good time with you, my dear. And I’ll be certain that my nieces are here to participate.”

Cassandra nodded, as she swiftly packed her things back into a bag. “If that is all, I will leave you. I have much to do.”

When she said the last, her eyes darted away. Nathan wrinkled his brow. He had been so focused on everything else about her, he hadn’t noticed how tired Cassandra appeared. And not just physically. He frowned. “Let me escort you, Miss Willows,” he said, coming forward and taking her case before she could argue.

His sisters and his aunt all drew in sharp breaths in unison. Nathan stifled a curse. A man of his stature didn’t go around carrying the bags of a lesser person. He allowed servants to do it. Christ, he should hardly be aware of Cassandra at all.

And yet she was the focus of all his attention.

“I must negotiate the price of these gowns with Miss Willows,” he explained swiftly. “We can do that as we walk.”

“A quick negotiation to be sure,” his aunt muttered.

He shrugged one shoulder. “I am quite persuasive,” he chuckled.

Cassandra stiffened at his side, but she made no move to take her items back from him. “I am sure, my lord,” she said. “But I have not come so far in business by bending to just anyone’s will.”

He motioned to the door. “Then I look forward to a spirited discussion.” He turned back as Cassandra exited in front of him. “Aunt, I shall depart after my discussion with Miss Willows. Adelaide, Lydia, I assume Mama is coming to fetch you?”

The girls nodded and Adelaide said, “Yes. But we will not breathe a word of our fittings, just as we discussed.”

He smiled. “Very good. I shall see you later. Good day, Aunt Bethany.”

His aunt grunted a response that he barely heard as he quickened his pace to catch up with Cassandra at the front door. She hardly looked at him as he fell into stride beside her.

“So what can I offer you for your hard work?” he asked softly, keeping his tone low enough that the silent butler who showed them out did not hear.

She sent him a side-glance. “How about ceasing your blackmail?”

The frank request made Nathan stop midway to the two carriages that awaited them at the base of the circular drive. Somehow he had expected a much sweeter “negotiation.” But here Cassandra was asking for something he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to give.

She stopped at her carriage, which was in front of his since she had arrived before him. She waved away the footman who was moving to step down and gripped the door handle herself.

“This is madness, Nathan, we both know it,” she whispered. “Have you not gotten enough revenge upon me? Have you not proven that you still control my lust, my desire?”

Nathan stared at her tired face. Defeat lined her cheeks, darkened her expression to an undeniable sadness. “Cassandra—” he began.

She held up her hand to silence him. “Please, Nathan. I can’t do this anymore. I can’t—” She broke off, staring at the ground for a moment. Her breathing was labored, clear evidence of her struggle. “I can’t—”

Before she could finish, her face paled to a terrifying gray and her knees buckled. Nathan bit back a cry as he caught her before she hit the ground.

She looked up at him, eyes unfocused and voice weak as she whispered, “Don’t let them see, Nathan. Please don’t let anyone see.”

He didn’t hesitate, just gathered her into his arms and got into her carriage. He called out for them to be taken to her home and then closed the door behind them, locking himself into the vehicle with Cassandra as her head lolled back against his chest and her eyes fluttered shut in a dead faint.

C
assandra was having the loveliest dream. She was in Nathan’s arms, his hands gentle as he stroked her hair. When he spoke to her, his voice was filled not with anger or revenge, but with concern…love.

“Don’t leave me, love,” he whispered, his breath warm on her skin. “Don’t leave me again.”

She smiled as she looked up at him through hazy eyes. He was so beautiful, so strong and so everything she had ever wanted and more.

“I never left you, Nathan,” she murmured. “You have to believe that I never left you.”

Something jolted in her dream and Cassandra blinked. It wasn’t a dream at all. She actually
was
lying in Nathan’s arms, his hands lightly stroking through her hair. And they were in
her carriage, of all places, which explained the rocking and jolting.

Reality infused her delicious haze and she sat up, pushing at Nathan’s arms in an attempt to escape. He held tight.

“Don’t thrash about so, Cass,” he said, his lips thin. “Just rest.”

“I’m fine,” she argued, though she stopped struggling. It was too hard when she was so damned tired.

“Do you always faint in the street when you are ‘fine’?” he asked, arching a brow.

Cassandra moaned and covered her face with one hand. “In the street?” she whispered, her voice muffled. “He’ll love that.”

Suddenly her ‘bed’ of Nathan’s lap was far less comfortable. When she peeked through her fingers at him, she saw that he had stiffened and was looking down at her through narrowed and dark eyes.

“He? Who is
he
?”

She shook her head. It was too exhausting to come up with a believable lie, so she settled on the truth.

“Your father, actually. He has made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t approve of our renewed…” She hesitated. “Er…
friendship
. I’m certain if he does have spies following me, he will accuse me of manipulating you by collapsing.”

Nathan’s frown deepened. “So, he’s having you watched, too? Of course he is. He would want to see what is happening from both sides.”

Cassandra bit back a humorless laugh. “This all feels so
familiar, doesn’t it? He had us watched and followed all those years ago, as well. He would have done anything to keep us apart.”

She hesitated. He
had
done anything, after all.

Nathan shrugged one shoulder, but she could see that he was more troubled by his father’s interference than he let on. “The difference is that I have lived on my own long enough that I don’t care what he thinks. Or says.”

Now Cassandra did laugh, though she felt more sadness than humor. “Oh, Nathan, of course you do. No matter what, you care very deeply for your father, and worry about what he thinks of you. You always have.”

Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but she cut him off by pressing her fingertips to his lips.

“It isn’t a disparagement, darling, merely a fact.” She let her fingers trail across his lips gently and suddenly the carriage felt warmer.

Nathan’s hands clenched around her, his fingers massaging her side, her hip as he stared down at her with focused, heated intent. Cassandra licked her lips and he let out a low groan that seemed to reverberate in every inch of her body.

But before he could do anything to fulfill the promise that sparkled in his blue eyes, the carriage rolled to a stop outside her townhome and rocked as her servants stepped down.

Nathan gave her a half grin that melted her even more than his touch. “Home at last.”

She nodded and began to extract herself from his arms. “I can manage on my own,” she whispered. “You should go back
to your aunt’s before there is more talk than there likely already is.”

Nathan held tight. “My sisters and aunt believe I was going to depart after I walked you to your carriage,” he argued. “And my driver has followed us and is pulling into your drive as we speak. So I am going to take you upstairs and be sure that you are well before I leave you.”

Cassandra would have argued, but before she could say anything, the coach door opened and Nathan swept her up and carried her from the vehicle with complete ease.

As he moved toward the open front door, she struggled.

“Nathan, put me down this instant!”

“I can’t,” he said as he swept past her butler and called out, “You there, bring Miss Willows some brandy and a cool compress. She fainted a few moments ago.”

Her butler’s eyes went wide and he immediately moved to follow Nathan’s orders. Cassandra puffed out her breath in a huff.

“Wilkes, you come back here! Wilkes, listen to me!”

But the servant was already gone. She flicked her gaze to Nathan’s face as he carried her up the long staircase to her chamber. “You have no right to come in here and order my servants about and carry me around like you own me.”

“Very true,” Nathan said, as he pushed her chamber door open with his shoulder and entered the room. “But I’m doing just that regardless.”

As he set her on the bed, Cassandra looked up at him.
“Why?” she whispered, unable to keep the aching break out of her voice.

He shrugged one shoulder as he lay down beside her, facing her. “Because it terrified me when you collapsed,” he admitted softly. “And I need to assure myself that you are well. Whole. Unharmed.”

She swallowed hard, tears stinging behind her eyes. Damn him for saying something so sweet. It almost made her forget what he was, what he knew, what he felt. When he looked at her the way he stared now, all she could think about was the man who said he loved her all those years ago. That younger man was alive in Nathan’s eyes now. Looking back at her as a pure temptation.

She found herself leaning toward him, straining to meet the lips that were coming in toward hers. But before they could kiss, the chamber door opened. Cassandra jolted and scooted away to face the door and the intruder.

It was Elinor who stood at the threshold, her eyes wide and cheeks pale. She held the cold compress and brandy that Nathan had ordered the butler to bring upstairs a few moments ago.

“What in the world is happening?” her friend asked, as she rushed into the room. “Wilkes said you fainted and was bringing these up. Of course I came straight away.” Elinor pursed her lips as she looked at Nathan, still sprawled across the bed as if it was a perfectly natural place for him to be. “And what is
he
doing here?”

Cassandra flopped down on the pillows with a groan. By the concern in her friend’s eyes, this conversation was not going to be brief. She cast a quick side-glance at Nathan to find he appeared as frustrated as she.

And why not? After all, they had been interrupted in the carriage and now here in her bed.

As if in answer to her look, Nathan pushed himself off the bed and moved toward Elinor with purpose in his stride. “Miss…Clifton is it?” he asked, his tone filled with lord-of-the-manor haughtiness.

Elinor’s eyes narrowed. “Clifford, actually.”

“Yes.” Nathan smiled, thin and not particularly friendly. “It is true that Cassandra did faint today. And as you can see, she is quite tired, so perhaps you can save your tirades and questions until after she has had some time to rest. In the meantime, why don’t we take this—”

He plucked the tumbler of brandy from her hand and turned to set it on the table beside Cassandra’s bed.

“And this—”

Now he snatched the cool cloth away from her friend and gently handed it to her.

“And
you
can run along.” He motioned Elinor toward the door with one hand.

Cassandra shut her eyes briefly. This wasn’t going to go well.

As expected, Elinor placed her hands on her hips with an outraged gasp. “I beg your pardon Lord Blackheart—”

“Blackhearth, actually,” Nathan said, but his voice was filled with humor.

Elinor rolled her eyes. “Yes. You have no right to tell me
or
my friend what to do. As I understand it, you surrendered that right long ago!”

Cassandra jolted straight up into a seated position and stared at the two. Damn her friend for saying such a thing! That was exactly why Cassandra had never whispered a word about her past with Nathan. She didn’t want
anyone
using that as leverage either for or against her.

Nathan cast a quick and remarkably worried glance at her before he stepped forward and caught Elinor’s arm. “Come Miss Clifford, let us continue this conversation outside so Cassandra may rest.” As he hauled her friend out the door, he sent her a brief look. “I will be back, I promise you.”

As the door slammed behind the two, Cassandra flopped back on the bed with a moan. Her doors were well insulated, so she couldn’t hear the argument that was surely taking place in the hallway. About her. To protect her. From both sides.

She laid the cool washcloth over her eyes and sighed. The last thing she wanted was the two most important people in her life coming to fisticuffs over her well-being, but she was just too tired to intervene. So she shut her eyes and made the assumption that both would come out of their showdown alive.

“This is all your fault!” Elinor Clifford cried just as Nathan shut the door to Cassandra’s room.

He spun on her. “Why don’t you keep your mouth shut until we get out of Cass’s earshot?”

“We’re out of it now,” the other woman snapped. “You couldn’t hear a battle through that door, Cassandra made sure of it.”

She arched a brow with a cruel tilt of her mouth and Nathan flinched. He knew full well what Elinor was implying. Cassandra had insulated the door so that no one would hear her with her lovers.

And damn if that didn’t sting every fucking time he imagined it.

“Besides, don’t try to pretend to me that you give a damn about her welfare after what you’ve done. The reason she collapsed is because of
you
.”

Elinor paced the narrow hall restlessly, casting dark glances at him from time to time that did their job in shaming him.

“And just how do you figure that, Miss Clifford?” he drawled, folding his arms and leaning back on the wall beside the bedroom door.

She pointed her index finger at him. “Why do you think she’s utterly exhausted? Because of
you
. This is already her busiest time, just as the Season begins and all the ladies are scrambling to fill out their wardrobes with the latest fashions to one-up each other! But then
you
come along. She’s been up every night for the past month, either working her fingers to the bone or waiting for you. Sometimes both.”

Nathan’s cocky smile fell. He had intruded upon Cassandra’s work more than once, that was true, but he hadn’t fully
realized just how busy she was. But then he thought of her tired face when his aunt requested that she make two additional gowns. For a moment, he had seen Cassandra’s frustration. Now he fully understood it.

“Why does she not refuse to fill some of the orders?” he asked. “If she is tired, she should rest.”

Elinor stared at him like he was a daft child for a long moment. “Because, you ox, she isn’t like you! She doesn’t have a fortune at her disposal that she can access to live a life of luxury. If she refuses the powerful women of your sphere, they will go to another seamstress and they might never return to Cassandra. If enough of them find a
modiste
they like better, she will be ruined. So she has no choice but to fulfill the orders and bow to your blackmail. Even if it kills her.”

Nathan felt his nostrils flare. Elinor was being dramatic, of course, but perhaps not as much as he would like. When he thought of Cassandra’s ashen face as she fell into his arms, when he recalled how unresponsive she had been to his initial attempts to rouse her…it terrified him.

“And don’t forget this, my lord,” the other woman continued. She moved toward him, all accusation and disgust. “If you are taking her to bed repeatedly, there is always the chance that she is breeding. Men of your stature hardly ever give a damn about that consequence, but one symptom of such a situation is fainting.”

Nathan swallowed hard. Elinor was off the mark, of course. He had only lost control and filled Cassandra with his seed once in the time they had reunited. That was only a few days
before and he knew enough to realize that her faint today was not a symptom of pregnancy.

But that didn’t erase the fact that her friend’s words were true. When he lost control inside of Cassandra, he had created a chance, however small, that she could carry his child.

Their
child.

Years ago, he had yearned for that possibility to be a reality. He had sometimes watched her and tried to imagine what their children would look like. Would they inherit her auburn hair or his dark? Would they have her green eyes or the blue that streaked its way through his family?

When he and Cassandra parted, he had shoved those fantasies, those shadow children away, denying he had ever wanted them. Now they returned, dancing on the edge of his mind, taunting him with the future he had once craved. One he had lost in the midst of anger and betrayal.

He shook his head, hoping to clear those thoughts away, though he wasn’t entirely successful. He met Elinor’s heated stare with an even expression.