The Renegade (The Moorehouse Legacy #3)(33)

Oh, God…had that really just happened? Had he truly done that to her?

Yes, he thought. He could still smell her glorious passion on him.

It had been so wrong of him. And felt so perfect.

Her body was even more beautiful than his dreams had made it out to be, and her skin was even softer, especially where her hot secrets were kept. When she’d flown apart in his arms, he’d watched her with greed, thinking this was what he had always wanted. His name coming out of her lips because of what he was doing to her.

For those few moments he’d joined them, he’d known paradise. She was so very tight that every stroke had been a revelation of ecstasy, like nothing he’d ever had, nothing he’d find again. Pulling back from her had nearly killed him. He’d been right in the very beginnings of a shattering release, the pulses just starting to take his breath away, when he’d stopped.

Because how could he empty himself into her body, knowing what he did? It would be tantamount to violating her, because she would deny him if she knew the truth.

From somewhere in the shop, a cell phone rang. The tone wasn’t his.

He looked up. She’d left hers behind. Forgotten it along with the clipboard in her rush to leave.

Dear Lord, what she must think of him. And how she must feel, to have been left on the bed like that. He should do something.

Except, what were his options? What could he say to her to make things better?

I stopped because you deserve so much better than a savage like me coming inside of you.

The phone fell silent, only to ring again. On the fourth round of chiming, he went over and flipped it open.

Before he could say a word, a male voice blasted into his ear.

“Cass, what’s wrong? That message you just left sounded damned scary.”

O’Banyon.

Alex went cold.

“Hello?” O’Banyon said.

“She’s at Gray’s.”

There was a long silence and then that male voice dropped down a register. “Why do you have Cass’s phone, Moorehouse?”

“She left it at the site.” Which was technically true. “Do you have Gray’s number?”

“Do you know why she was crying tonight?”

Ah…hell. Alex dragged a hand through his hair.

“What the hell did you do to her?” O’Banyon snarled.

“Do you have Gray’s number?”

“So help me God, Moorehouse, I’m not going to allow you to grind her up. I’ll come north tonight and drag her back to Manhattan if I have to.”

“Suit yourself, O’Banyon. I won’t stand in your way. Now, if you don’t mind, I’m going to hang up on you and turn this phone off. Your voice in my ear is nothing I want to fall asleep to.”

After he’d shut the cell down, Alex went straight for the scotch bottle and poured himself a tall one. He was halfway through it when he picked up his phone and called Spike.

“Hey, man, what’s doing?” the guy said.

“I need a favor.”

“Anything.”

“Could you come by tomorrow morning early? Cassandra left her cell phone and her clipboard at the site. She’s leaving to go back to the city and she’ll want to take them with her.”

“No problem. But why can’t she just pick them up herself on the way out of town?”

“She’s not going to want to be here for a little while.” Alex took a long drink. The scotch burned its way down to his gut.

“Why?”

“You ever done something you wished you could undo?”

Spike laughed softly. “You better believe it.”

“Well, she’s done something she wishes she hadn’t, you know what I mean? I want to make it easy for her.”

There was a long pause. “So it’s like that, is it?”

Alex finished the glass. “Yeah. And then some.”

Spike let out a long exhale. “I’ll see you bright and early in the a.m.”

“Thanks.”

Alex put the glass down and eyed the bed. He stripped naked, letting his clothes fall where they chose to, and threw back the sheets and blankets. As he stretched out, he could smell her scent on his pillow.





Chapter Ten




On New Year’s Eve, Cass hit the directional signal and eased the Range Rover off the Northway and onto the Saranac Lake exit. Her time away from White Caps had gone by fast, but it had done her some good. When she’d left before Christmas, she’d been raw. Now she was just bruised.

“So, Cass, tomorrow’s your birthday, isn’t it?” Sean said, glancing across the seats. “New Year’s Day.”

Sean had proved to be a godsend over the holidays. He’d insisted she come to his place for all of Christmas day. His brother, Billy, had been there as well, visiting from their hometown of Boston, and the three of them had had a great time. Billy was a linebacker for the New England Patriots, and considering his size, he no doubt lived up to his nickname of Boneyard on the field. But around her he’d been a total gentleman.

And so had Sean.

“Cass?”

She smiled. “Yes, I’ll be thirty-one tomorrow.”

As they passed by the stone pillars that marked the White Caps driveway, her eyes lingered on them.