Page 29 of Beg for You

She’d come against my mouth just minutes ago, and now she was talking to me like she’d just made an appointment with her dentist. I reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear because I couldn’t fight the urge to touch it. Her hair had always fascinated me. She trembled slightly. She was trying to hide behind the ice queen act, but that’s all it was. The way she’d come apart for me twice now, I couldn’t believe anything else. I wanted to force her to give me more of what she just had, but I wouldn’t.

Cassy was protecting herself. I got that, I respected it, and since there was no end to this that didn’t involve me hurting her or her father in some way, perhaps that was a good thing.

I took her hand and led her out to the street to her car.

She climbed in. “Thank you for tonight,” she said, then shut the door, started her car, and pulled out.

I stood there staring after her like an asshole, watching her go until she turned a corner.

A curl of unwanted guilt rose up inside me and I shoved it back down.

Lyall had tried to destroy my family. Bull and Dane had suffered because of that bastard. It was only fair I returned the favor.

It was Lyall that hurt you, not Cassy.

I dragged my hand over my cropped hair. Christ, I felt like I was on a freight train set on a collision course and there was no way off.

This shit was about to blow up in my face and there was no way to stop it. Not now.

Chapter Eight

Cassandra

Fall in Springhaven was beautiful, and I’d spent the day walking around taking pictures. Photography was a hobby of mine—well, a little more than that. I’d sold a few of my pictures in the gallery. I probably looked like just another tourist walking around with my camera. If I wasn’t with my horses, it was one of my favorite things to do on days like this, which meant I didn’t get to do it often.

But this morning I’d gotten up extra early for my morning ride. I’d been doing that a lot lately. It was the only way I knew how to clear my head, or at least try. I hadn’t been very successful at that the last few weeks. And even after exercising the other mares, the sun hadn’t long been up when I’d finished.

Now it was warm enough to keep the chill out of the air, and I’d been enjoying myself so much I’d wandered down Pine View Lane and toward the lake. Before that I’d taken shots of several buildings. The architecture had always fascinated me.

Walking along Springhaven’s main street was like stepping back in time. Most of the stores were protected by the historical society and their brightly colored fronts, ornate wooden verandas, and the hanging baskets overflowing with bright cheerful flowers gave me a feeling of stepping back in time.

I stopped by the lake and breathed in the crisp air. It was so beautiful. Chris and I used to swim here in summer. Mom and Gran would bring us down. They’d sit under a big sun umbrella, drinking lemonade while we splashed around with our friends.

I loved this place and had hoped that one day I would come down here with my own children.

For a while I’d wanted to leave this place permanently, after Chris died, and I went to college.

I’d done a summer internship at the Met, and I’d loved every moment of it. My dream was to eventually become a curator, but positions there were highly competitive, and my father had decided it wasn’t a good idea, especially when I applied for and got an internship at the Louvre in Paris. He laid on the guilt when I told him I was going to accept it, made me feel like I was abandoning him. How, after everything I’d done, I was just going to walk away and leave him and Gran on their own.

I’d been forced to turn it down.

After that, I opened the gallery and immersed myself in building my business and my reputation—and eventually, making plans with Gran to reestablish a breeding program at the ranch.

While desperately trying to please my father, like I had been for the last ten years without success.

I wasn’t Chris. No, I was the one who failed Dad, the reason he’d lost his only son.

But somehow I’d found happiness. My business, my horses, they became my passions. Now I couldn’t imagine losing either of them. I couldn’t imagine leaving this place.

Light glinted against rooftops on the other side of the lake. Rocktown. So close, but so different from Springhaven. What was Cal doing at that moment? Was he working? Or out enjoying the autumn sun like me?

My phone beeped and I pulled it from my bag. A knot formed in my stomach. Sometimes I wondered if my father had a sixth sense. He always managed to call or text when he was sure to ruin my day the most.

Dad: Are you free tonight? We need to talk. Time is running out.

I stared down at his message and wondered for the millionth time if my father actually hated me. Because how could you ask this of your own child? How could you expect them to sacrifice their future to ensure you continued to live in the style in which you’d become accustomed, to make sure you weren’t humiliated in front of your peers? Because that’s what it boiled down to. Pride.

His pride was more important than me. How he looked to his friends and associates was more important than me. He didn’t really care how this would affect Gran, not really. He was just using her to control me. And it had worked, because I did care. I’d do anything for her, to keep her comfortable and happy, and my father knew it.