She watched him walk away from his car toward her door and suddenly, as if he somehow sensed her, he looked toward the window. His eyes held hers for a moment and then he lifted his hand in a wave, acknowledging her presence.
The heat she had felt earlier in her body intensified and the shivers she couldn’t fight slithered through her once more. She lifted her hand to wave back, wondering what it was about him that affected her so. What was there about this man that had her inviting him to her home, her private sanctuary, her personal domain, the place where she felt the presence of her parents the most? Why was she sharing all of that with him?
She discovered she didn’t have time to ponder those questions when he disconnected his eyes from hers and headed toward her door. She sighed deeply, her nerves stretched tight. The air she took into her lungs was sharp, and the quickening she felt in her veins was absolute.
Not waiting for a knock at her door, she moved away from the window and headed in that direction, very much aware of the magnetism, the attraction and the lure of the man who was now standing on her doorstep.
“Welcome to my home, Brandon.”
Brandon gazed at Cassie, telling himself that just like last night, his reaction to her was strictly sexual, which accounted for the ache he suddenly felt below the belt. The effect did not surprise him. He accepted it although he didn’t like it.
He immediately picked up her scent, the same one that had tortured him through most of the night as if it had been deeply drenched into his nostrils. Reaching out, he took her hand in his, leaned closer and placed a light kiss on the dimple in her chin and finally said, “Thank you for inviting me, Cassie.”
He released her hand and she smiled before taking a step back, letting him inside her home. The moment he crossed the threshold he beheld the stunning splendor of the décor. It wasn’t just the style and colors, there were also the shapes and designs that combined traditional flare with that of contemporary, colonial and Queen Anne. The mixture in any other place would look crammed, definitely busy. But in this monstrosity of a house it demonstrated a sense of wealth combined with warmth. It also displayed diversity in taste with an unmistakable look of sophistication.
“You have a beautiful home.”
Her smile widened. “Thank you. Come let me give you a tour. I haven’t changed much since Mom died because she and I had similar taste.”
She led and he followed. “Do you take care of this place by yourself?” he asked, although he couldn’t imagine one person doing so.
She shook her head. “No, I have a housekeeping staff, the same one Mom had when she and Dad were alive. My staff is loyal and dedicated and,” she said grinning, “a little overprotective where I’m concerned since they’ve been around since I was twelve.”
They came to a spacious room and stopped. He glanced around, appreciating how the entire width of the living room had floor-to-ceiling windows to take advantage of the view of the ocean. He also liked the Persian rugs on the floor.
Beyond the living room was the dining room and kitchen, set at an angle that also took advantage of the ocean’s view. The first thing he thought when they walked into the kitchen was that that she had been busy. Several mouthwatering aromas surged through his nostrils and he successfully fought back the grumbling that threatened his stomach.
Both the dining room and kitchen opened to a beautiful courtyard with a stunning swimming pool and a flower garden whose design spread from one area of the yard to the other. Then there was the huge water fountain that sprouted water to a height that seemed to reach the roof.
“Did you live here with your mother?” he asked, moving his gaze over her, taking in the outfit she had chosen to wear today, tropical print tea-length skirt and matching peasant blouse that was as distinctly feminine as she was. The way the skirt flowed over her curves only heightened his sexual desire and made him aware, and very much so, just how much he wanted her.
“Until I left for college,” she said, leading him up the stairs. “When I returned from London I got an apartment, but a year later for my birthday Dad bought me a condo. When he gave me the deed to this place, I moved back.”
Moments later after giving him a tour of the upstairs, she said with excitement in her voice, “Now I must show you the aquarium.”
Once they returned downstairs and rounded corners he saw other rooms—huge rooms for entertaining, a library, a study and room that appeared lined with priceless artwork. He suddenly stopped when he came to a huge portrait hanging on the wall. The man in the painting he recognized immediately, but the woman …
“Your parents?” he asked, staring at the portrait.
“Yes, those are my parents,” he heard Cassie say proudly.
Brandon’s gaze remained on the woman in the portrait. “She’s beautiful,” he said. He was so taken by the woman’s exquisiteness that he took a step closer to the painting. Cassie followed and glanced over at his fixed look and smiled.
“Yes, Mom was beautiful.”
When Cassie began walking away, he strolled beside her, noticing several other photographs of her parents together and some included her. In every one of them John was smiling in a way Brandon had never seen before. To say the man had found true happiness with Ava would be an understatement. The image portrayed on each picture was of a couple who was very much in love, and the ones that included Cassie indicated just how much they loved their daughter, as well.
When they approached another room she stood back to let him enter. His breath literally caught in his throat. On both sides of the narrow but lengthy room were high mahogany cabinets that encased floor-to-ceiling aquariums, each one designed to hide the aquarium frames and waterlines, they were filled with an abundance of tropical and coldwater sea life, seemingly behind a glass wall.
“So what do you think?”
The sound of her voice seemed subdued, but it had a sexy tone just the same. He turned to her. “I think your mother was a very lucky woman to have your father care so deeply to do this for her.”
Cassie chuckled. “Oh, Dad knew what would make Mom happy. She had a degree in marine biology and for years worked as a marine biologist at the largest mineral management company on the island.”
“Your mother worked?” he asked before he could stop himself.
Cassie didn’t seem surprised by his question. “Yes, Mom worked although Dad tried convincing her not to. She enjoyed what she did and she refused to be a kept woman.”
At his raised brow, she explained. “My parents never married. He was already married when they met. However they stayed together for over twenty-eight years.”
Surprised she had shared that, he asked, “And he never got a divorce from his wife?”
“No. I think at one time he intended to do so when their children got older, but by then things were too complicated.”
“Your mother never pushed for a divorce?”
Cassie shook her head. “No. She was comfortable with her place in my father’s life as well as his love for her. She didn’t need a wedding band or a marriage certificate.”
He nodded slowly and deliberately met her gaze when he asked. “What about you? Will you need a wedding band or marriage certificate from a man?”
She grinned. “No, nor do I want one, either. I’m married to the hotel.”
“And what about companionship?” he murmured softly, his head tilting to one side as he gazed intently at her. “And what about the idea and thought of a man being here for you? A person who will be there for you to snuggle up to at night. Someone with whom you can get intimate with?”
If the intent of his latter questions were meant to arouse her, it was definitely working, Cassie thought, when a vivid picture flashed through her mind of the two of them sharing