female of quality to share his world with.”
“Oh.” It is all I can blurt for a moment. “And that was why…”
“The moment?” Another grape goes in. Her grin tilts the opposite direction, deepening the dimples Cassian has inherited. “Yes. That’s why I needed the moment.”
“Well.” I curve a little smile too—a tricky thing, since I must conceal as much as I reveal with it. Mallory is a woman who speaks all her truths, and since she has not talked about how I truly came to be here with Cassian, I am certain he has not told her. I am also certain I will not be that messenger either. “I enjoy…sharing his world.”
At least for another four months…
She reaches over and pats my hand. “Not a subject we have to beat in right now. Besides, I believe we’re due for another Monopoly match soon.”
I laugh fully now. Relief is so much simpler to shield that way. “As long as we try to talk Cassian into joining us this time.”
A beat goes by. Just one.
Before she tosses the remaining grapes on the counter—in favor of rushing around it to crush me into a hug.
“Errr? Mall—”
“Ssshh. I’m having another moment.” She pulls me tighter. “Hang on. Adding a prayer this time.”
“A prayer?” Alarm stabs my chest. “For what?”
“Just thanking the Almighty that Cas took that trip to Arcadia.” She steps back far enough to give me her full smile again. “And came home with such a great treasure.”
I laugh again—and can mean it this time. “It is my pleasure to be so, Mallory.” Hopefully, she does not discern just how much pleasure. If she does, then it is her own son’s fault. Between Cassian’s seduction and the romantic spell of the Cloisters, is it any wonder I am a satisfied woman right now?
“Uh-oh.”
As if summoned by the sensual force of my thoughts, the syllables are delivered with a gorgeous growl—replacing the alarm in my chest with butterflies.
Cliché? Yes.
But accurate? Absolutely.
I try breathing away the critters but as I join Mallory in looking to the doorway where Cassian has ascended from the floor below, they refuse to heed me. Why should they? He is worth scrambling in a million directions for—especially now, with the museum slacks and coat off but the form-fitting T-shirt still on, paired with black workout pants accentuating his long legs even more.
Creator’s mercy. Only fifteen minutes have passed since we arrived home but I feel jittery, as if treated to his golden beauty for the first time. Is it like this for every woman in love? And for the men too? If so, how has anything on this earth gotten accomplished beyond the stone age? Despite every confusion and frustration I wrestled with during our episode at The Cloisters, all I want to do is get him alone again. Now. Do all the things that scenario implies. Right now.
“‘Uh-oh’ what?” Mallory’s cheeky comeback eases the edge of my lust a little. A little. I would dare any woman to keep pious thoughts when exposed to the tender smile Cassian reserves only for his mother. “You implying something, sweet little one?”
Cassian grimaces. I smile, despite my tangled heart. No amount of repetition will make me forget the first time I heard the woman use the endearment. After Cassian survived his post-shooting surgery, his friend Doyle finally contacted Mallory. She rushed to the city from her home in Connecticut, sweeping into the room at the hospital without care for how things “appeared”—and leaned over him with love so fierce, it eclipsed every sterile inch of the room. Cassian had been sleeping and did not hear her fervent whisper, but I had—and was shattered to instant tears. He had landed in that damn bed because of me. My stupid actions…
To my shock, Mallory Court had held me through those tears. And as soon as she heard the whole story behind them, embraced me even harder—
Before giving me words that became my guideposts for the next six weeks.
He clearly thought you were worth those bullets, Mishella. So prove him right.
By the Creator, I hope I have fulfilled her expectation.
“I imply nothing that my instincts won’t confirm, Mom.” He leans and kisses her cheek. “But my instincts are pretty good.”
They both arch one brow. His left, her right. “Is this supposed to be fresh news, darling?” Mallory cracks.
Cassian puckers his lips in a funny way—a look that would approach stodgy on most other men. On him, it is simply…determined, with a twist of hot.
“What are