Bloodlust 00 The Talisman Page 13

  “Oh, shoot, you are in love with the knucklehead. “

  * * * * *

  It was hard to go to work the next morning. But Cassy managed it because she was sure Chandler would make things as easy for her as possible by making himself scarce and he did. She didn't see him for the next two weeks. During the day, she didn't allow her thoughts to dwell on him, but at night, when she lay alone in bed listening to the soft, mournful sobs coming from her undies drawer, she knew history was repeating itself. Like Marie, she would no doubt go on to marry another man, but she would always love Chandler Raven; just as Marie had loved her Philippe.

  “Are you all right, Cassy?” Deb, a programmer she worked most closely with asked her at the end of the second week.

  She nodded. “Yeah. I'm just getting over a cold.”

  Deb looked skeptical and she wondered if everyone in the place knew she'd been foolish enough to sleep with the boss, who now wanted nothing to do with her.

  “What to grab a bite after work?”

  “Thanks, but I think I'll go home, take a long bath, and hit the sack. But ask me again sometime?”

  “Sure. Ah, if you need to talk...“

  She forced a smile. “Thank you, Deb. I really appreciate that.”

  * * * * *

  Chandler groaned, rolled over and looked at his bedside clock. Almost one a.m. He was bone weary, but thoughts of Cassy kept him awake. Several weeks had passed since he'd seen her, but his desire for her had only increased. He wanted her. He needed her. Of course standing at his office window watching her leave and arrive for work nearly every day didn't help.

  He turned his head and looked at the spot on his nightstand where the Ebony Venus had sat. God, he missed it. The last time he'd seen the statuette, its features had no longer mirrored Cassy's. But he still wanted her—more now than ever before.

  He closed his eyes and a picture of Cassy's beautiful face danced in his mind. What surprised him most was that when he watched her, he didn't always think in terms of sleeping with her. He found himself regretting that he'd never romanced her; never done any of the things that made a woman fall in love with a man.

  Now lying on his back, he longed to have her in his arms. Granted he wanted to make love to her, but he also longed to just hold her. He wanted to caress her, kiss her, and tell her how sorry he was that he'd hurt her; make her feel needed and wanted; loved. Loved. Cassy, je t'aime, mon cher.

  Jennifer was right. He was a coward. The last two months of avoiding Cassy had taught him that his interest in her was not strictly sexual nor was it bound so firmly in what Philippe had felt for his Marie. He did want to pursue a relationship with her that included romancing her and having her fall in love with him. Him, not Philippe. But unlike Steve, who was still seeing his Tia, despite Ellen's threat to toss him out of the house if he didn't give her up, he didn't have the balls to say to hell with everyone and openly romance Cassy. Served him right if Serge came back and booted him out of the picture. No. There was no way he was going to allow Serge to add her to his long list of women.

  He felt himself hardening as he thought of her. She was so sweet. So warm. So giving. So willing to show him how much she wanted him. He groaned and slipping a hand into the slit in his briefs, he cupped his cock.

  He closed his eyes and imagined the hand massaging his shaft and balls was feminine, soft, slender, golden brown. He kept up the movements of his hands on his cock and balls until he felt the pressure building inside him. When his climax hit him, he groaned, called out Cassy's name, and collapsed onto his stomach. “Oh, Cassy! I miss you. I need you.”

  He buried his face in his pillow. Somehow, he had to do what Philippe had never done. He had to make things right with Cassy. And with Marie. He suddenly understood why he and Cassy had been drawn together and how they could be free of Philippe and Marie; free to live their lives the way they chose. Now if only he had the balls to pull it off. You must find the strength, Chandler, for both our sakes.

  He nodded. “I know. I know and I promise I'll do my best to make it right for both of us, Philippe.”

  For the first time in weeks, he fell asleep and slept all night.

  * * * * *

  Slipping on her bathrobe, Cassy lifted the phone on her bedside table to her ear. “Yes?”

  “Delivery for Ms. Thompson,” a male voice announced.

  She sank down on the side of the bed. Who would be sending her anything at seven in the morning? “I'm not expecting anything. Are you sure you have the right person?”

  “Yes, ma'am. They're flowers are for a Ms. Cassy Thompson, apartment 1-b.”

  “Oh.” She smiled. Derri must be trying to cheer her up. “Thank you,” she said and released the lobby door lock. She was waiting at her apartment door with a tip when the deliveryman rang her bell. She accepted the flowers; an elaborate mixed bouquet, offered a tip, and closed the door.

  She took the flowers back to her bedroom and sat them on her night table while she dressed. Smiling at Derri's thoughtfulness, she picked up her briefcase and left the apartment.

  She arrived at work in a good mood. She was going to have to do something nice for Derri to make up for the flowers.

  She called Derri during her morning break. “Derri, you shouldn't have.”

  “Shouldn't have what?”

  “Sent the flowers. They must have cost a fortune. Being a big time defense attorney must pay big time dividends.”

  “It has it rewards, but what flowers? Cass, what are you talking about?”

  She blinked in surprise. “The flowers. I got them before I left for work. They're beautiful, but you shouldn't have.”

  “Not to worry; I didn't. I have no idea what you're talking about.”

  “Then who sent them?”

  “Beats me. Didn't you look at the card?”

  “No. I was running a little late and I just assumed you'd sent them.”

  “Well, I didn't. But you know I ran into Frank last week. Maybe he sent them. He'd still like to get with you. Are you going to cooperate this time?”

  She shook her head. “He's a nice guy, but I'm not ready to...I'm still feeling too raw to start seeing anyone else yet.”

  Derri sighed. “Oh, Cass, are you still hankering for old knucklehead?”

  She shrugged. “I guess I am, but don't worry. I'll be all right. In a month or two, I'll be ready to meet other men. I just need a little time.”

  “It's already been over two months.”

  “I know.”

  “Well, you holler if you need a shoulder to cry on.”

  She shook her head. She wasn't about to waste another tear on Chandler Raven. “I won't be crying over him anymore.”

  “Now that's what I'm talking about!” She could imagine Derri pumping her fist in the air. “Listen, I'm do in back in court in twenty minutes. I have to go, but we'll talk later.”

  “Okay. Later.”

  * * * * *

  Chandler sat at his desk reading the monthly stats for what must have been the fifth time. As before, he reached the end of the reports without having absorbed any of the information. Swearing softly, he pushed the sheets away and went to look out the window behind his desk.

  When he wasn't going through the motions of working, he jogged, played racquetball, worked out at the gym, but nothing seemed to relieve the tension building up inside him. His temper was almost completely out of control and he felt like he was about to explode.

  He blew out a deep breath. What he wanted, what he needed was to make his peace with Cassy. He knew that his relationship with Ellen had already changed and would continue to change if he pursued a relationship with Cassy. Which meant that his relationship with Julie would probably change. He was uncertain how his brothers would react, but he no longer cared what anyone thought.

  Of course there was the question of rather or not Cassy would even be interested in a relationship with him now. He hadn't given a very good account of himself the first time. Why would sh
e risk being hurt by him a second time? The thought that she might not, sent a shudder through him. He might end up like Philippe, always longing for the one woman he'd been too cowardly to stand by.

  There was only one way to find out how she felt about him. He turned and reached for the phone on his desk. It rang before he touched the receiver. He picked it up. “Yes?”

  “Chandler, Steve has just arrived. He wants to see you.”

  The last time Steve had come to the office, it had been to tell him he'd been suspended from high school for fighting. This then would not be a social visit. He slipped into his chair. “Send him in.”

  Steve, who was usually clean-shaven, looked as if he hadn't shaved in a few days. His hair, short and spiked, appeared not to have been combed.

  “Sit down and tell me what's wrong, Steve.”

  “Nothing's wrong, Uncle Chandler. I just wanted to ask you if I could store some things in your garage for awhile.”

  “What kind of things?”

  Steve shrugged. “My stereo, computer, television, and VCR. Some clothes.”

  He leaned back in his chair, sighing. “Your mom put you out?”

  He nodded. “Yeah.”

  “She caught you with Tia again?”

  “No. I admit I was out of line letting her catch me with Tia. So we've been very careful lately. Tia hasn't even been over our house for a couple of weeks.”

  “You're not seeing her anymore?”

  Steve's eyes widened. “Of course I'm seeing her. We've just been very discreet.”

  He bit back the urge to say his discretion had come a little late. “So what happened?”

  “I don't know. She just came home yesterday and insisted I agree to stop seeing Tia.”

  “And you said?”

  “No! And she said I should plan on getting out of her house by the end of the month.”

  He looked in Steve's eyes and saw the anger, pain, and defiance. “Steve, don't you think you should at least consider not seeing Tia again?”

  “No! No! Why should I when we care about each other? I know Mom's thinks Tia's a tramp, but she's not. She's just my woman and I'm her man. Mom doesn't like that? Too bad. No one is coming between me and Tia. Not her parents and not Mom. Uncle Chandler, we're in love.”

  “So what are you going to do?”

  He shrugged. “Instead of going back to school full time in January like I'd planned, I'll go part time and get a full time job. That way I can get an apartment where Tia will be welcome.”

  “Are you telling me you're not in school now, Steve?” he asked, surprised. “The semester started last month.”

  “I know, but I knew Mom would probably put me out, so I had to keep working so I could save enough money for an apartment when she did.”

  He was furious with Ellen. Jace would not have approved of Ellen misusing the college fund he had set up for Steven and Julie as a lever against Steve.

  He was also proud because there no doubting Steve's resolve. He must really care for his Tia if he were willing to give up so much for her. While he applauded Steven's determination, he hated to think of all the extra grief giving up school full time would bring him.

  “Steve, are you sure you want to do that? Working full time and going to school at night, isn't easy.”

  “I know that, but I have no choice, Uncle Chandler. I won't stop seeing Tia.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I love her!”

  “Steve, you're nineteen and she's eighteen.”

  “Does that mean we can't be in love?”

  “No. Of course not.” He sighed. “Sorry, that was as asinine remark. Okay. But come January, you get your butt back in school full time. You can move in with me and I'll cover your tuition.”

  Steve gave him a weary look. “Strings attached?”

  “Absolutely. You have to keep up your grades.”

  “And? What about Tia? Will she be welcome?”

  “Yes. All I ask is that you be discreet. I have no more desire to walk in on you and Tia making love than did your mom. Other than that, she's welcome.”

  Steve's shoulders slumped and he put a hand over his face. “Thanks, Uncle Chandler.”

  He got up and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. “Of course your mother is going to be furious with us both when she finds out.”

  Steve looked up at him. “But you won't change your mind?”

  “No. Actually, I want to tell you how proud of you I am.”

  “For what?”

  “For having the courage of your convictions and for being willing to put your feelings for Tia out in the open.”

  Steve shrugged. “What else can I do? At first I thought it was lust, but it's not. I love her, Uncle Chandler. I hate to disappoint Mom, but she just doesn’t understand how I feel about Tia. But you understand. Don't you?”

  The intensity of the question and Steven's gaze convinced him that his nephew knew of his own aborted relationship with Cassy. He returned to his seat. “I don't know.”

  “You don't? Mom said you were seeing a black woman.”

  “I was, for a while.”

  “What happened?”

  He grimaced. “I wasn't as brave as you. The idea of being involved in a romance across racial lines was a bit unnerving.” Then there had been the added complication of not being sure how much of what he felt were his feelings and how much were Philippe's.

  “You're not seeing her now?”

  “No.”

  “Are you all right with that?”

  He shook his head. He'd been a bigger fool than poor Philippe. “No.”

  “So why don't you do something about it?”

  “It's not that easy. There are obstacles.”

  “What's so hard? If you like her and she likes you, isn't that all that matters?”

  But the big question was: did Cassy still like him? “I don't know that she feels the same way anymore. I didn't behave nearly as well as you have with your Tia.”

  “I couldn't behave any other way, Uncle Chandler. I love her. What else could I do but stick by her no matter what?”

  Which is what Philippe should have done. What he should have done. It was too late for Philippe. Not, God willing, too late for him.

  Chapter Eight

  When Cassy arrived home that night, she found Frank waiting in the lobby with a spray of red roses and a big smile. “Cassy, long time no see.”

  She smiled and accepted the roses. “Frank. This is a surprise.”

  “A nice one?”

  “Yes. Of course. Are these for me? How sweet. Thanks.”

  “I know I should have called, but I really wanted to see you tonight. Will you have dinner with me?”

  “Frank, I...“ she stopped, gave herself a mental shake, and smiled at him. “I'd love to, but I need you to understand that there's been another man in my life since we first met and I still have strong feelings for him.”

  “You mean you're in love with him?”

  “Something like that.”

  “And he's not in love with you?”

  She forced a smile. “Bam! Bam! You hit the nail right on its big ugly head.”

  “So you need a shoulder to cry on?”

  “Big time.”

  He sighed. “Damn. Oh, well. What the hell. If it's meant to be, it'll be. No strings and no expectations but friendship, Cassy. At least for now.”

  “Good. Then would you like to come in and wait while I change?”

  “Sure. Thanks.”

  They discussed the upcoming Jill Scott concert through her open bedroom door as she changed. “She puts on a great show.”

  “I know,” he said. “Listen, if I can get tickets, would you like to go?”

  “Ah...yes. That would be great, but I'd feel better if we went Dutch.”

  “That's not necessary.”

  “I know, but humor me.”

  “Okay. Dutch it is.”

  They went to a jazz club where they slow danced together a
fter dinner. He held her close and she could feel his erection against her. When she turned her head, he kissed her. She closed her eyes and remembered another pair of lips brushing hers. Another pair of arms holding her close. Another shaft hardening against her.