Page 12 of Beg for You

The guy was an egomaniac with an overinflated opinion of himself. We were never going to happen. Okay, I’d almost stupidly gone there after a night of backhanded comments from my father and one too many glasses of champagne. At the time, I’d felt…well, sad and lonely. I’d just wanted someone to want me. I didn’t care who it was. I’d wanted to be looked at like I was beautiful, all of me—to finally know what it was to be with a man. I hadn’t been in a great headspace and had somehow decided that man should be Spencer.

Probably because he had been trailing after me all night, plying me with drinks.

He’d driven me home and followed me into the guesthouse. He’d kissed me, and I’d realized within seconds that it was all wrong. I’d told him so and excused myself to use the bathroom. When I came out, I’d found him in my bedroom. He’d stripped off and was on my bed. I’d kicked him out and had ignored his texts and calls ever since.

I parked my car, and as much as I wanted to go to the guesthouse and pretend I hadn’t seen Spencer’s car, I’d agreed to have dinner with my father and Gran. My manners that had been drummed into me all my life wouldn’t let me do it. There was also the fact that Gran hated the Livingstons. If nothing else, I needed to be there to keep the peace. She and my father butted heads at the best of times, but inviting a Livingston to the house? She’d be furious, and she’d let them both know.

The house seemed to loom over me as I walked toward it. I had to fight the urge not to run to the stables, saddle Tierra, and take off for the night.

But with my father, it was all about appearances. Always. How he and his family looked to the outside world. If I stood him up, I’d never hear the end of it.

The fact I wasn’t perfect anymore, that I was marked physically by the awful day we lost Chris, was something he could barely tolerate. He certainly couldn’t look at it. The last time he’d seen my scars I was seventeen years old. It had taken every bit of courage I had to put on my new sundress that morning. It’d been hot and the dress was so lovely. I’d felt beautiful in it, for the first time since the accident. From the front, you could only see a little of the scarring at my shoulder, and I’d left my hair down to cover the back. My father had taken one look at me and paled.

“We have guests coming over. Get upstairs and cover that up at once.”

I’d never felt beautiful like that since.

My first session with Cal had been a week ago, and I wasn’t sore anymore. The stinging had subsided and now it just itched a little. The reminder of what I’d done bolstered me. It was my secret, all for me, and no one, not even my father, could take that away. The back piece would take at least another three or four visits before it was done. Cal had only done the outline so far, but I already loved it. I shivered as I took the steps to the front door, remembering the way the rough tips of his fingers had grazed my skin, the way he’d undone my bra…like a man undressing a lover. God, it had been so erotic.

Then he’d called me Cassy, and all the warmth I’d been feeling had drained away. No one had called me that, not since before Chris had died. My walls had come up instantly, an automatic defense mechanism to protect myself.

The door opened as I reached for it.

I expected to see my father, but instead, Spencer stood there, a smile stretching his lips wide as his gaze blatantly dropped to my chest. “You’re finally here. We’ve been waiting for you.”

He held out a hand, but I brushed past, ignoring it. “I thought this was just dinner with my family.”

“It is, but we had some…business to finalize.”

I slid off my coat and hung it up. “Please, don’t let me hold you up.” I offered him a cool smile.

He didn’t move, just stared down at me for too long until my skin started to crawl. “Why won’t you go out with me, Cassandra?”

I wasn’t expecting him to be so direct. I definitely wasn’t prepared for it. “I…well, I…”

“We had fun that night, didn’t we? Okay, I may have gotten a little ahead of myself, but that kiss. I haven’t been able to forget it.”

“A little ahead of yourself?” I said, incredulous.

He grinned. “I’m a wealthy man. Handsome. My father’s ranch, all that land, will be mine one day.” He shrugged. “There are a lot of women who would love to have me chasing after them, but you…you insist on playing hard to get.” His eyes did another sweep of my body. “Perhaps you’re just shy?”

I straightened my spine. “I don’t play games, Spencer—”

“Cassandra, you’re here.”

I turned toward my father’s deep voice. He was watching the pair of us, assessing us in a way that made me extremely uncomfortable.

“Are you sure you can’t stay for dinner, Spencer?”

“Unfortunately, I have another engagement, Lyall.”

I spun to my father, shocked that Spencer had used his first name. No one did that, only his very close friends were given that privilege, and my mother when she’d been alive. My father’s jaw tightened slightly, but he said nothing.

I was stunned.

They shook hands. “We’ll hammer out the finer points of this…arrangement next week?” Spencer said.

“Of course.”