“We met because I had a stalker. My agency hired Chase Security, and Kier came out to go over the contracts. The next thing I know, he decided none of his personnel could handle it. Thanks to the madman, he also decided I needed him in my suite. After one horrible day, I received a death threat attached to my dead cat. The bastard. I lost it.
"Men hate tears, so Kieran tried to comfort me. Those blue eyes. His strong arms around me. My heart stopped. And that first kiss, my god—c’est magnifique. I'd never experienced that before. And the rest, as they say, is history. He is such an attentive lover. We can share our likes. Sometimes, it’s not so sweet.” Monique batted her eyes. “Can you ladies keep a secret? Haven’t told the folks, but a little Chase is coming after the start of the new year. We’re waiting a little longer…just for us.”
Sophie and Cassie squealed with delight. “That’s so great. We’ll keep the secret,” Cassie said.
Sophie turned to Cassie. “Now back to you, lady. I’ve made love, and I’ve had sex. Remember the jock from our junior year?”
“I just remember you saying he was big everywhere except his brain.”
“Yeah, he was the one. Sex: thumbs up. Everything else: major thumbs down. Then there was Henry. He was gorgeous, but he couldn’t rise to the occasion because I was the wrong type: girl. He preferred men. And now Preston. I thought he was the whole package. He’s smart and outstanding in the sack, but after what he let happen to you, Cass…”
"Don't blame Preston. The one to hate is Wilds," Cassie said.
"You’re a lot more forgiving than me," Sophie sighed.
Monique took both of Cassie’s hands in hers. “Doll, I can swear to one thing: Ian is a good man. He will never hurt you. Always be honest with him; that’s the most important thing.”
Two hours later—advised, pampered, and perfumed—Cassie put on some stunning lace underwear. Monique thought of everything, including a cotton cover for her feeding tube, a cloth bandage to cover her IV line, a covering over the skin graft, and a ribbon to weave through her braid that matched the moss green midi dress.
“Hunt told me if I put you in heels, he’ll tell Kieran to spank me. I got you these.” She held up a pair of Prada skimmers.
Cassie wrapped her arms around each of them. “Thank you both so much.”
Monique escorted her down to the breakfast nook with Sophie and Martin’s help. The table was set with hand-patterned linens and napkins. White Lenox china complemented the Waterford Ballet Ribbon crystal glassware. A simple arrangement of pink hydrangeas was centered on the table, and a pitcher of iced tea with lemon slices was beside one setting.
“Oh my.” Cassie was overcome with emotion seeing the table. She never saw Martin shake Ian’s hand nor Monique and Sophie kiss Ian’s cheek and slip away.
“Do you like it, sweetheart?” Ian was wearing a white linen shirt and khaki shorts. “You look beautiful.” He opened his arms.
* * *
Cassie stepped into his embrace. Ian held on to her, never wanting to let go. “We should sit down,” she said.
Ian realized he was crushing her. “I’m sorry.” He pulled out a chair, and after lifting the floral arrangement from the table, he brought out a thin crust veggie pizza. “I thought this might tempt your taste buds.” He was thrilled to see Cassie enjoy two slices of the pizza, but the dinner conversation was even better.
Ian wanted to keep building her trust. “I have an idea. Pretend we’re playingThe Dating Game. Remember those silly questions?”
“It was the first reality TV show. I loved it. Okay, I go first. If you could choose one color to paint every surface in your house, what would it be?”
“You have to tell me yours too. Green.”
She crinkled her nose. “You said that because I’m wearing green.”
“Nope. Ask my mom. I drove her and my dad nuts. I had a collection of green crayons, magic markers, pens, and pencils. Green Easter eggs, balls, dinosaurs, frogs, army men. The walls in my room, my sheets, and my clothes. I would only wear a shirt if it had green in it. And ask Kieran—I got into dad’s camouflage paint. I painted his face green. What’s yours?”
“Well, I’m sure Kieran is happy you’ve curbed your zealousness a bit.” Cassie gave an unladylike snort. “My color is purple. It can be bluer or redder or pink.” Her eyes lit up as she talked about shading and perspective, displaying a glimpse of her artistic passion.
They asked ridiculous questions about movies, TV shows, foods, cars, and books. They talked about celebrities and art. “Paul Yates said you were working on finding a Caravaggio. Any reason why?”
Cassie nibbled on a delicious peach cobbler. “You know when you get the feeling you’ve seen something before?”
“Déjà vu?”
“Something like that.The Adoration. The same dream happens over and over. Three men are standing around it. I somehow know it's the painting, but it's folded up. You can only see the baby Jesus, but it’s not Jesus—it’s William.”
“When did these dreams start?” Ian kept his tone relaxed.
“Right after I lost him.”
