sensuality that seemed to wrap around her. Against the small of her back she could feel the jutting arousal contained by his jeans, and in his hands, the firm strength that anchored her to him.
She had never felt that before with Casey. As though he were trying to seduce her with more than the pleasure he gave her body.
“Oh yes, Sheila—Cooper and I received our invitations to your father’s barbeque this month. I can’t wait. I hear the Rutledge party is the event of the year,” Sarah stated happily as a glimmer of excitement filled her vivacious brown eyes.
And Sheila felt a twinge of remorse that she had been unaware Sarah had lived in the county for more than a year before Ethan had finally claimed her. Everyone in the county was invited to the Rutledge barbeque. Catered, rousing, and filled with food and laughter, the yearly party was Douglas Rutledge’s way of giving back to the community his wife had loved.
It had been their hometown, but it had been Eleanor Rutledge who had wanted to come home when Douglas retired. She had died six months before that retirement of a heart attack.
“Well, it’s an event, anyway,” Sheila agreed, her smile almost shaking as she felt Casey settle his chin at her shoulder.
“Do you have a partner for the Rutledge party yet?” he murmured at her ear. “Or the ball?”
Sheila swallowed tightly.
The barbeque was her mother’s dream, but the ball a week later was the captain’s baby. Inviting officers of all the military branches as well as political and private sector law enforcement officials. The ball was the captain’s excuse to be more than the stern, supposedly disillusioned army captain whose friends were generals, admirals, and senators.
It was also his chance to revel, even if privately, in the fact that the job he had accepted while in his prime, the one that had required he remain a captain rather than advancing, was succeeding.
The position of head of the National Covert Information Network.
“I don’t have a date yet,” she answered quietly. She had never had a date for her father’s balls unless she did the inviting. She had stopped doing the inviting the summer she turned nineteen. And she’d gone alone ever since.
“You do now,” Casey informed her as her eyes narrowed on him in the mirror behind the bar.
He stared back at her, his gaze heavy-lidded, his expression reminding her of the night he had taken her on the bar. That memory was seriously messing with her ability to stay angry with him.
“Do I really?” she murmured, aware of the fact that Sarah, Ethan, and Morgan were attempting to carry on another conversation despite their rabid curiosity.
“What do you think?” The look in his eyes dared her to refuse.
“I think I don’t recall giving the invitation,” she replied smoothly, careful to keep her voice low.
Casey smiled, his lips curving with cool warning.
“I don’t wait on an invitation,” he informed her, his tone warning now. “I was informing you, Sheila. You have a date. Period.”
Oh, now that just wasn’t going to do.
Sheila turned to him slowly.
“Choose your fights, sweetheart.” If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a sudden edge of anticipation in his voice. “And choose them wisely.”
Her mother had warned her of that once as well. She’d told her that one day she would come across a man who didn’t give a damn who her father was, or how strong she had become. He would sweep into her life and leave her heart, her mind, in disarray.
“Choose your fights, sweetheart, and choose them wisely,” Eleanor had warned her. “Otherwise, you’ll destroy yourself, as well as him, fighting against him.”
But her mother hadn’t known Nick Casey.
She was almost anticipating a fight with him, as much as he seemed to be anticipating one with her.
She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.
Hell, she could feel it radiating in the sexual intensity that suddenly seemed to consume them
She had never felt that before with Casey. As though he were trying to seduce her with more than the pleasure he gave her body.
“Oh yes, Sheila—Cooper and I received our invitations to your father’s barbeque this month. I can’t wait. I hear the Rutledge party is the event of the year,” Sarah stated happily as a glimmer of excitement filled her vivacious brown eyes.
And Sheila felt a twinge of remorse that she had been unaware Sarah had lived in the county for more than a year before Ethan had finally claimed her. Everyone in the county was invited to the Rutledge barbeque. Catered, rousing, and filled with food and laughter, the yearly party was Douglas Rutledge’s way of giving back to the community his wife had loved.
It had been their hometown, but it had been Eleanor Rutledge who had wanted to come home when Douglas retired. She had died six months before that retirement of a heart attack.
“Well, it’s an event, anyway,” Sheila agreed, her smile almost shaking as she felt Casey settle his chin at her shoulder.
“Do you have a partner for the Rutledge party yet?” he murmured at her ear. “Or the ball?”
Sheila swallowed tightly.
The barbeque was her mother’s dream, but the ball a week later was the captain’s baby. Inviting officers of all the military branches as well as political and private sector law enforcement officials. The ball was the captain’s excuse to be more than the stern, supposedly disillusioned army captain whose friends were generals, admirals, and senators.
It was also his chance to revel, even if privately, in the fact that the job he had accepted while in his prime, the one that had required he remain a captain rather than advancing, was succeeding.
The position of head of the National Covert Information Network.
“I don’t have a date yet,” she answered quietly. She had never had a date for her father’s balls unless she did the inviting. She had stopped doing the inviting the summer she turned nineteen. And she’d gone alone ever since.
“You do now,” Casey informed her as her eyes narrowed on him in the mirror behind the bar.
He stared back at her, his gaze heavy-lidded, his expression reminding her of the night he had taken her on the bar. That memory was seriously messing with her ability to stay angry with him.
“Do I really?” she murmured, aware of the fact that Sarah, Ethan, and Morgan were attempting to carry on another conversation despite their rabid curiosity.
“What do you think?” The look in his eyes dared her to refuse.
“I think I don’t recall giving the invitation,” she replied smoothly, careful to keep her voice low.
Casey smiled, his lips curving with cool warning.
“I don’t wait on an invitation,” he informed her, his tone warning now. “I was informing you, Sheila. You have a date. Period.”
Oh, now that just wasn’t going to do.
Sheila turned to him slowly.
“Choose your fights, sweetheart.” If she wasn’t mistaken, there was a sudden edge of anticipation in his voice. “And choose them wisely.”
Her mother had warned her of that once as well. She’d told her that one day she would come across a man who didn’t give a damn who her father was, or how strong she had become. He would sweep into her life and leave her heart, her mind, in disarray.
“Choose your fights, sweetheart, and choose them wisely,” Eleanor had warned her. “Otherwise, you’ll destroy yourself, as well as him, fighting against him.”
But her mother hadn’t known Nick Casey.
She was almost anticipating a fight with him, as much as he seemed to be anticipating one with her.
She could see it in his eyes, hear it in his voice.
Hell, she could feel it radiating in the sexual intensity that suddenly seemed to consume them
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