herself, “I didn’t exactly lie to Abigail. After all we’ve been through I can’t think of a better explanation than intimacy issues.” She leaned against the dresser and examined her nails awaiting his response.
When he didn’t make another sound, Cassie wondered if he’d gone to bed. Then she heard it. Laughter.
Confused, she asked, “What are you laughing at, Stephen?”
It grew louder. Finally, he said, “You, Cassie. I forgot what you were like. This is going to be fun. If this is how you want to play it, then I’ll have more fun than I’d planned. Goodnight, Cassandra.”
That wasn’t the response she’d expected. It perturbed her.
And unnerved.
What did he mean, fun?
He’d said he needed her to keep up the act of marriage so he could get a divorce, but not for the first time today, Cassie wondered if he had something else in mind.
Surely he didn’t still want her. Which left...? A boulder settled in the pit of her stomach and cold chills ran up and down her arms. Stephen wanted revenge. She knew it. She’d embarrassed him by leaving; made things harder by coming back and now he wanted to torture her.
Fine.
She straightened her back and stepped away from the dresser. Crossing over the sand colored carpet, she sank back into the guest bed. If he wanted to try to torture her, she didn’t have to make it easy on him.
Stephen might have his own agenda for what he wanted to do, but that didn’t mean Cassie had to play fair.
She’d been thinking too small.
Turning, she clicked off the Tiffany lamp and rolled over in bed. A cloud of angel feathers, really. The mattress cradled her in ways she hadn’t realized she could be cradled. The sheets, Egyptian cotton, she suspected, and a much higher thread-count than her discount store sheets, felt soft and silky against her skin.
Cassie loved nice things, but she had a thrifty side that ran deep. She thought she’d be able to get Stephen to call this off by spending his money, but as she rolled over in the bed, she realized, money was not an issue for him.
He’d probably love for her to spend some. It would make them appear more legitimate. No, she needed something bigger.
Something that would send such fear through him that he would want nothing more than to send her packing. And apparently telling his housekeeper he had intimacy issues was not it.
Snuggling deeper into the covers, Cassie crossed arms over her chest and tucked her knees up tight. She had to think of something insurmountable. Something Stephen himself would never see coming.
But for tonight, at least, she would enjoy these wonderful sheets.
****
Morning came with the phone beside her bed ringing and Abigail letting her know breakfast would be ready in fifteen minutes.
Sitting up, Cassie stretched arms over her head and relaxed back into the plush pillows. Stephen Sands might have a lot of faults, but he had a very keen sense of comfort. She’d not slept so well in, well, possibly ever.
A glance out the window let her know the sun was up, but she had no idea the time. Surely Stephen would have left for work. Not that she felt afraid to face him. No, she could handle him just fine.
It was the kissing that got to her.
And that she couldn’t seem to stop her body’s reaction to those kisses.
Plus, if he hadn’t left for work, that meant he’d probably want to make a show of a good kiss at the door.
Jerk.
Pulling on a pair of jeans and a long sleeved shirt, Cassie wondered what Stephen had told Abigail. It seemed strange that the woman had welcomed her as his wife with no question. Sure, she was his servant, a word that made Cassie shiver in horror, but she was still a woman. Cassie couldn’t imagine not having questions about an arrangement as queer as theirs.
Of course, Abigail hadn’t questioned when Cassie told her she and Stephen weren’t intimate, either, so perhaps this was her nature. Tell her what you may, and she accepts unquestioning.
Cassie felt a
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