Table for Two (36 page)

He turned and saw her wearing red stiletto heels with chocolate and whipped cream spread all over her body. "I hope you're hungry." Her mouth fell open when she saw Cassie, then smoothed into a grin. "Oh, you have company."

Drake turned to Cassie, ready to explain. She wasn't there. He found her at the elevators. "It's not what you think."

She pushed the elevator button with extra force. "You have no idea what I'm thinking right now. Of course now I understand why you need an
hour
to get out of your... situation." She quirked a brow at him. "Forty minutes wouldn't give you enough time to get through all that whipped cream and the chocolate should take at least twenty minutes."

Drake began to explain, then stopped. He'd seen Cassie upset before and this wasn't one of those moments. He rested his hand against the wall and scowled down at her. "You think this is funny, don't you?"

She bit her lower lip and pushed the button again.

He folded his arms. "This is what you get when you're nice to people."

She laughed at his disgust. "You must have been
very
nice."

His scowl deepened. "It's not funny. She climbed over my balcony wearing just a trench coat. You can ask Eric. I told her that I wasn't interested, but she thought I was just being shy. Stop laughing."

Cassie sucked in her lips, but her chin trembled at his look of outrage.

"I told her we were back together and she offered to be my mistress. The next thing I knew she disappeared and came out... like that."

"She's very attractive. If I were a man—" His fierce glare stopped her. She flashed a wicked grin. "Do you want me to help you get rid of her?"

He spun on his heel. "I can get rid of her, but I doubt I'll be nice about it."

Cassie jumped in front of him, holding her hands out to stop him. "I'll take care of this. Take off your shirt."

"What?"

She wagged a finger at him. "Don't ask questions, just do as I say and follow me."

They returned to the apartment and Drake took off his shirt and threw it over the couch, while Cassie slipped out of her shoes and unbuttoned her blouse.

"You're beginning to worry me," he muttered as he followed her.

"Good."

They both stopped in the bedroom doorway where they saw Brenda lying seductively on the bed. Her creamy brown body looked like the topping on a sundae. Cassie nudged Drake's paralyzed form. "Stop drooling and try to breathe." She stepped forward and took off her blouse. "Brenda, I am so happy you're here to join us. We weren't expecting you of course, but the more the merrier. Drake is so... fond of you."

"You can't compete, Cassie."

"I don't plan to." She sat on the edge of the bed. "Fortunately, with you here we can get started before the others come."

Her superior expression faded a bit. "The others?"

"Yes. Marie, Debbie, Tawana." She turned to Drake. "Who else was there, dear?"

He blinked. "Uh—"

She smiled at Brenda and shrugged. "We've had so many we've lost count."

Brenda’s eyes widened, horrified. "Are you telling me that you have other women come and—"

"Not just women. Men too. We believe in equal opportunity." Cassie lowered her bra strap. "So do you want to start with Drake or me?"

Brenda leaped out of the bed. "This is sick! Being a mistress is one thing, but what you're talking about is immoral." She grabbed her trench coat and backed out of the door, staring at Drake as if he were about to attack her. "I hope I never see you again."

They heard the clicking of her heels as she ran and then the front door slammed.

Cassie ran a hand through her hair and fluttered her eyelashes. "Well, don't I deserve a thank-you?"

Drake began to grin. "Why didn't you just tell her to get out?"

"Because she might come back. I had to give her a reason not to."

"What if she had said yes?"

"With that ego?" she scoffed. "There is no way she would want to be one of many."

"You know, that little bit you did with her gave me some ideas...."

Cassie narrowed her eyes. "I will not sleep with another woman."

He sighed with mock disappointment. "A man can dream." He frowned at the bed. "She got chocolate all over my sheets."

Cassie gathered some chocolate on her finger. "Yes, but she had the right idea."

Drake needed no more prompting. "I'll be right back."

She watched him go, then glanced at the chocolate-smeared bed and saw the ghost of Brenda lying there—Brenda's perfect slim body, perky breasts, soft curves.

"Is there a problem?" Drake asked, standing in the doorway with a can of whipped cream in one hand and a bowl of strawberries in the other.

She pushed the ghost of Brenda from her thoughts and grinned. "Not at all."

* * *

After lovemaking, they freshened up in the shower, and then decided to change the sheets. Drake snatched off the sheets and tossed them in a basket to be washed. "Thanks for believing me."

Cassie grinned as she removed the pillowcases. "I knew you couldn't be that imaginative on the spot. You know what this means, don't you?"

He stared at her, suspicious. "What?"

"When you find a naked man in my bedroom covered in massage oils you'll have to give me the benefit of the doubt."

He met her grin. "Don't worry. I'll never let that happen to you. The only naked man you'll have around is me."

She threw a pillow at him. "Where's the fun in that?"

"I thought I just showed you."

"Yes, but every now and then I'll need some convincing."

He laughed. "No problem. I'm here to serve."

"Speaking of which, what is my weight-loss regime?"

"You'll see."

* * *

He was such a nice guy, Cassie thought as she watched Drake jog in front of her. It was such a shame to have to kill him. She would plead self-defense. While their love-making last night could have made the record books, this evening he seemed bent on administering as much misery as physically possible.

Sweat poured down her face; her sweatband had long lost its purpose. It was now just a soggy piece of cloth on her forehead. Her legs seemed to move in slow motion and her lungs threatened to explode.

"How much...farther?" she puffed.

The wicked rogue threw a casual smile over his shoulder. "Just another two miles."

She stopped. "Two miles? Did you say
miles
? You meant meters, right?"

"Keep jogging! I told you that stopping suddenly will be a shock to your body. At least walk."

She did. "I'm sure dropping dead would also be another shock, but at least I'd be out of my misery."

Drake slowed down to jog beside her. "How can you be in misery when you have such great company?"

She threw him a cool glance. "Let me count the ways."

"Come on," he urged, poking her in the elbow. "At least give me a slow jog. Good."

"Don't congratulate me, it only gives me a terrible urge to slap you."

"Ha, you wouldn't be able to catch me."

That of course gave her enough energy for the rest of the jog.

She finally caught up with him as he approached the building. "Don't say a word," she ordered, sensing a verbal pat on the back.

"You'll feel better after a shower and a nice dinner."

Cassie made a face. This dinner would of course consist of birdseed and crackers. She walked into the kitchen after her shower and saw Drake put something in the oven.

"Hmm," he said, greeting her with a warm grin. "You smell much better. Set the table." He headed for the shower.

Cassie set put the plates and utensils out, wondering what kind of meal he had prepared: toast with peanut butter, rice cakes with cheese, chicken broth, hot lemon water. She grimaced. She wouldn't complain, they had a common goal. From the stove seeped a heavenly aroma that worsened her mood—the smell of
his
dinner.

Drake came into the kitchen looking pleased with himself and the table. He pushed her into a chair and put dinner on the table: grilled chicken, asparagus tips, and red potatoes.

"Where's my food?" Cassie demanded as he sat. "Oh, don't tell me I mean to starve."

His tone held a slight edge. "I would never do that to you." He held out his hand and she gave him her plate.

She watched, amazed, as he filled it "But I thought—"

"That I would give you bread and water? I don't believe in diets. Food was created to be both enjoyed and utilized. After a workout like ours you need to be rejuvenated."

Who was she to disagree with such logic? She was hungry. "Thanks for today."

"Don't thank me yet." His eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "Tomorrow we lift weights."

* * *

The man had hidden sadistic tendencies. After waking her up at 6:00 and feeding her a delightful breakfast, he began his campaign to ruin her good opinion of him. After sit-ups, push-ups, leg lifts, and aerobics he had put her on a contraption that could only be meant for torture.

"Eighteen, nineteen," Drake counted as Cassie tried to lift the massive weights with her legs. "Twenty." She let her foot drop; the weights crashed with a bang. "Only ten more to go."

She let her shoulders slump. For the first time in their relationship, she couldn't stand to look at him. Couldn't stand to look at that beautiful, perfect physique—the sculpted muscles of his bare chest and solid thighs. "I can't."

"Of course you can."

"Look at me. I'm only sitting here because I can barely stand." She could feel every muscle trembling.

"Ten more," he said.

"I've done everything you've asked," she complained.

"Ten more."

"You're supposed to be a support, not Attila the Hun."

He folded his arms. "Ten more."

"I think you're a low-down, arrogant, obnoxious son of a—"

"You can say that while your legs are in motion."

She gritted her teeth and finished the reps.

"Good, now it's time for a cooldown."

Cassie stood and collapsed on the floor.

Drake stifled a grin. "That's not what I had in mind."

"Oh, but it feels so good." She loved the cool feel of the blue mat against her face.

He pulled her to her feet. "Come on, you've got to stretch."

She snatched her hand away. "Could you just leave me alone!"

"You're the one who wanted to get into shape."

"No, dearie, I am a shape. I only need help to lose weight."

"And you will."

She shook her head, feeling perspiration sliding down her back. "Not this way. It will be easier to starve."

His jaw tightened. "Then do it yourself because you definitely won't get my help." He grabbed his towel and left.

She followed. "I thought this would be like when I was sick and you watched what I ate and fed me broth," she explained breathlessly. Did he have to walk so fast? "I didn't expect such a rigorous regime. This is not what I wanted. What's wrong with skipping a few meals?"

Drake stopped so suddenly she nearly crashed into him. "Starving to you may be some courageous accomplishment, but it's torture to your body and your mind. Denying yourself essential nutrients shouldn't be applauded when there are people who have to starve because they have no choice. I think you're beautiful just the way you are."

"Well, I don't."

He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Then go and starve yourself on your own."

"People fast," she said quickly before he walked away again.

He sniffed. "So it's fasting now?"

"Look," she said gently, "I know it was hard for you growing up."

"Hard?" His voice cracked in disbelief. "It was more than hard. Do you know what it's like to dream about food? To dream about having your own shopping cart and going down the grocery aisles to pick up any items you wanted? Frosted Flakes, Raisin Bran, Jiffy peanut butter, Ritz crackers, Campbell's soup. Why don't you ask Eric how good it felt to be sick every two months or to wake up screaming because your legs cramped up from lack of potassium? Ask Jackie how it felt being the smallest kid in class because your growth was stunned from malnutrition." He leaned against the wall, his harsh tone reflecting in his eyes. "I used to take ketchup packets, mix it with water, and heat it over the stove for soup. I would soak bread in milk, eat sugared toast for dinner, tried to make a can of baked beans last two days." He nodded in grim remembrance. "Yes, it was more than hard."

Cassie wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her eyes. "Well, why don't you ask me how it feels to look like this? To be known as the fat sibling, to get glares from other women when you enter the Dairy Queen line or order something from a fast food restaurant. Try making people laugh all the time because you're afraid you'll burst into tears if you don't. Try sitting with your family at holiday meals and watch them eat whatever they want while you get salad. When you look like me people think you're lazy, sloppy, and disgusting." She looked at him. "A diet shows discipline."

His expression softened. "I know that other people will look at you and judge you. Do you think I don't know what it's like to be judged? You should have heard the accent I had when I first came here. Not only was I poor, I was foreign." He rested an arm on either side of her, effectively trapping her beneath him. His amber gaze caressed her face. "Cassie, the weight is not the issue."

"It's not? Seems like a pretty big issue to me."

He put a finger over her lips. "You're afraid of how powerful you are." He continued before she could argue. "That's why you became Cassandra. A woman not afraid of her beauty, her sexuality, her intelligence...her power. She captivates audiences and has them mesmerized, her size is not a plus or a minus, it's who she is. You are Cassandra—Cassie—A. Graham, a woman with a dynamic career, wonderful friends, and—" He cleared his throat. "And an exceptional lover."

She rolled her eyes.

"You are a force to be reckoned with. Claim that."

"How long have you had that speech saved up?"

He wearily hung his head. "Cassie, have you heard a word I've said?"

She lifted his chin. "Every word." She leaned against him, feeling his chest hairs tickle her cheek. "I love you."