How Cat Got a Life Page 7

  Would you like to join me?

  Was it really too much to expect that he would include her in his day?

  ****

  Cat prowled about the hotel. She had coffee in the lobby and settled by the pool to leaf through a magazine. A few minutes later, she bounced to her feet again and returned to her room to flick through the television channels.

  Images of Brock bombarded her brain. She saw him lying naked in the bath, dark whorls of hair covering his powerful chest—arching in the water as he shouted out a hoarse cry of release—bent over her on the bed, droplets from his hair falling on the inside of her thighs.

  The sensations he’d wrought from her made her body flush with heat. She had asked for mindless abandon, and he had certainly given it to her. Even now, the memory sent a tingle of awareness along her skin.

  All at once, Cat couldn’t face the loneliness a second longer. Dalton had gone on his daytrip to the shore, and it tore her up that Brock remained distant, too aloof to allow her to lay claim to his Sunday. She ached to belong to someone, to be his first and last priority.

  I come by on Saturdays, to practice in case one day I have kids of my own.

  The memory of his words pierced the wall of anxiety around her. She’d go and help out at the children’s home. She’d never had much to do with small children, and they made her nervous, all blunt questions and bold eyes that saw hidden truths. The experience would do her good.

  As she drove down Main Street, a woman was busy hauling a display board outside a drugstore. Cat hadn’t expected the shops to be open on a Sunday. On impulse, she pulled over and went inside. If Brock gave her another night, she wanted to feel him inside her. The thought of that power rippling through her as they came together made a hot flush flare all over her.

  Idly, she loitered around the rows of display racks until she found the condoms. She cruised by twice more and chose by color, a dark purple. She snatched up a box. Holding it hidden in her palm, Cat waited until no other customers stood in line by the cash register.

  The stout woman with brassy blond hair piled up on her head took the box and ran it past the scanner. “The barcode’s not working.” She shrugged her shoulders and shouted out to the thin old man stacking the shelves. “Jack, can you bring another box of condoms? The purple ones?”

  As luck would have it, a group of women walked in through the door just as the words rang in the air. Cat recognized one of them from the Thursday concert.

  The gaunt man returned with the condoms and handed them to the woman behind the cash register.

  “So, you are the lady working in the sheriff’s office,” the woman said to Cat.

  “Yes.”

  “And you don’t know anyone else in town?”

  The newcomers clustered by the counter, waiting for their turn, listening in to the conversation. As they watched her, their eyes turned cold and their expressions accusing, like the inquisition setting up court.

  Oh God, oh God, oh God. Cat could see where the conversation was heading, and this time Brock would surely strangle her.

  “These are not for him,” she blurted out. “My stepson wants me to do the Mrs. Robinson thing. You know, seduce some of his friends.”

  Silence fell. Everyone stared, mouths agape. Her face burned, but she forced herself to hold her head high and walk out of the store with unhurried steps.

  As Cat sat in her car, terror closed in around her. Instead of salvaging the situation, she might have just made it much, much worse.

  Chapter Six

  “Brock’s not usually late. Oh, there he is. What’s on earth’s wrong with him?” Karen’s normally calm features furrowed with concern.

  The entrance door flung open with a force that rattled the frame. Cat didn’t dare to turn around. Hunching down behind her computer, she listened to the heavy trail of footsteps that thundered across the floor toward her.

  “In my office. Now.”

  She winced at the controlled fury in his voice and stole a glance over her shoulder. Brock appeared ready to explode. His arm shot up to a vertical line that pointed to the half-glazed door.

  Cat got up slowly, gaining a few precious seconds. Karen’s eyes strained in their sockets as her gaze shuttled between the pair of them. Brock stood like a stone pillar, waiting until Cat reached the threshold of his office. Then he bore down with the speed of a hurricane and slammed the door shut behind them.

  “I want to know why three women called me this morning to warn me that a person of questionable morals works in my office. What the hell did you do this time? Who’s you latest target for seduction? I had no idea that in your bid to experience the kind of abandon you read about in books you were willing to throw yourself at any man.”

  He pulled out the chair from behind his desk and slumped down. Anger seemed to drain out of him, leaving a dark shine of disappointment in his eyes. “You really had me fooled with all that soft innocence. I should have known it was an act.”

  “I—”

  “You can bloody well listen until I’m finished.”

  “No,” she yelled. “Don’t try to brush me off with that again.” Fury rose inside her at his condemnation of her. She planted her hands on his desk and leaned closer. “I’ve done nothing but try to protect your reputation. I know it was a stupid remark, but I was under some pressure, and that’s the best I could come up with.”

  He exhaled slowly. “What happened? No one is willing to give me details.”

  She told him about the box of condoms and the Mrs. Robinson remark. “They were all staring at me, challenging me to admit that I hoped to sleep with you. What did you expect me to do? Tell them I’d give it my best shot but you were a hard nut to crack?”

  His mouth quirked. “My nuts are no harder than any other man’s.”

  “What? You think this is funny?” She stared at him, aghast. Then humor began to tickle in her belly, seeking a way out.

  Brock propped his elbows on the table and hid his face in his hands. Groaning, he shook his head, but Cat could see that he too was struggling to keep the laughter inside.

  “Did you really think that I...?” She reached out a hand and gently touched the thick locks of dark brown hair. “It’s four years since I last slept with a man. You must realize I wouldn’t offer myself to just anyone. I simply didn’t want to deal with another situation where we both wanted it, but the practical considerations of birth control got in the way.”

  He raised his head and studied her with a thoughtful look. “There’s only one thing we can do now.”

  She waited in silence.

  “We must appear together in public, make it clear that we’re involved. Those women have no sense of humor. It’s up to us to make people accept that you were joking.”

  Cat exhaled in relief, unable to stop her lips from curving into a smile. “Sounds fine to me.”

  “Good. We can start tonight. Do you have a dress? It’s black tie.”

  “I don’t, but I’ll have one by tonight if you give me the afternoon off.”

  “Scoot.” Brock waved her away. “And please try to save me from further embarrassment. I’ve got a reelection to think of next year. Consorting with a woman of dubious morals could ruin my campaign.”

  “Aye, aye, captain.” Cat saluted and scampered out.

  Her heart soared. He’d been jealous. That scorching anger had been a sure sign that he felt possessive about her, regarded her as his property.

  “Everything okay?” Karen asked as Cat flounced back to her desk.

  “Couldn’t be better.” She beamed at the young deputy. “Sometimes, doing something stupid is exactly the right thing to do.”

  ****

  “This is Catherine Bridgewater.” Brock steered her toward a broad shouldered man with curly russet hair and piercing gray eyes. “Hank Malone is our chief financial officer.

  Cat shook yet another hand and smiled. Curious stares had followed her every move. If she hadn’t been aware of the effor
t it took to organize a formal party, she’d have assumed that the gathering at the mayor’s residence had been arranged with the express purpose of allowing people to inspect her.

  She’d bought a sleeveless sheath dress in black satin that cost far more than she could afford, but she had cast aside all thoughts of their precarious financial situation. The high back and white tuxedo collar gave her a demure look, offsetting the impact of the slit on the side that revealed a full length of leg. Brock hadn’t said anything when he picked her up, but his sharp intake of breath had made the expense worth every cent.

  “So, you’re the young lady who tries to invade our offices,” Hank Malone said.

  Cat gave the man an apologetic smile. “My stepson wanted to try the Clock Tower Challenge. I’m an experienced rock climber, and I felt it safer not to let him do it alone.”

  “Brock keeps asking for extra funds so he can post a security guard permanently outside the Town Hall, but I keep refusing. They’ll just pick another building.”

  “It shouldn’t cost too much just for the first week of the term,” Cat said.

  Brock shook his head. “I’ve tried that. They changed the dates of the Challenge. At least this way, the danger is over in a week.”

  Hank directed a speculative look at Cat. “You wouldn’t like to have another go, would you? We could set up a video camera and get the footage on the evening news. Would do wonders for our tourism.”

  “Forget it, Hank.” Brock reached his arm around Cat’s waist and tucked her against his side. “She isn’t going anywhere near that clock tower gain.”

  Hank raised a brow. “Why, sheriff, you speak as if you owned her.”

  “An astute observation,” Brock drawled, and leaned down to brush a kiss on her lips. “I do, at least for the next two weeks.”

  “Keep your voice down, Sheriff,” Hank said with a grin. “Otherwise you’ll be rescuing women halfway up the Town Hall every month from now on.”

  “Perhaps I’ll put out the word that the next offender has to serve their sentence in your office. I know exactly who would leave the party right now in her little sports car, without going home first to change out of her evening gown.”

  Hank nearly choked on the sip of champagne he’d taken and cast a frightened look around. “Don’t you dare, Brock.”

  “You can keep that in mind when you review my request for increased funds,” Brock shot back. With a smooth excuse, he steered Cat toward the next cluster of people.

  At nine, the orchestra raised the volume and switched from Mozart to dance music. People holding drinks and canapés retreated to the edges of the room, clearing the floor for the dancers.

  Brock pried the empty champagne flute from her clinging fingers and found a table to prop it on. “Ready?” he asked.

  Cat glanced up at him. He contemplated her, unsmiling, heat smoldering in his amber eyes. She took a deep breath and nodded. He led her into the throng of couples. When she stepped into his arms, it felt as if the music entered her veins, pulsing through her, each note flickering deep and low inside her.

  Brock gathered her close. His hands traveled restlessly up and down her back, pressing her to his muscled chest. Cat closed her eyes and lowered her head on his shoulder. A sense of safety, of being cherished, swept over her. It might only be an act to convince people that they were serious about each other, but at least for the moment it felt all too real.

  “Cat. Look at me.” His hand rose to cup her chin, lifting her face. The rough pad of his thumb stroked her lower lip. “You are the most beautiful woman in this room. Every man in here would like to be in my place right now. I don’t want you to dance with anyone else. Not tonight. Will you do that for me? Let me keep you all to myself?”

  She gave him a wordless nod. Slowly, he lowered his head and molded his lips to hers. The kiss was soft and tender, and by now Cat knew Brock well enough to understand that he’d impose strict limits on their public display of affection. If only life could always be like this. She wanted someone to love her, love her with a fierce possessiveness that left no room for doubt. Being needed had never been enough. She wanted to feel the full measure of a man’s passion, not some pale imitation because having her around was convenient.

  “I know we planned to stay, but I think an early exit is just what we need to get people talking,” he whispered into her ear. “Let’s go and say goodbye to the mayor and his wife.”

  ****

  Cat’s hands trembled around the beaded black evening bag, as if the two foil squares she’d slipped inside were firecrackers about to go off. Taking the condoms with her had filled her with a mix of thrill and embarrassment and hope. She’d never acted predatory before, had never sent signals that screamed take me, I’m yours.

  “Are you warm enough?” Brock said when he helped her into the car a valet had driven up.

  “Yes.”

  He didn’t pause to ask where she wanted to go, and she leaned back in gratitude. She wanted to be swept along by the current between them, not to have to make decisions or consider how she’d feel in the morning.

  He pressed a button on the console and music flowed through the car, curling around her, drawing out the yearning that already pressed inside her chest.

  Brock drove faster than she remembered, speeding past a changing light and swerving around corners. He pulled up in the drive, jumped out and circled to open the passenger door for her. Inside the house, he tossed the keys on the hall table and turned to her.

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she replied.

  He took her hand and led her up the stairs. His bedroom was dark, masculine, with a large divan bed flanked by a pair of low chests. “I redecorated last year,” he said. “We had a sleigh bed, and I don’t like a footboard. I feel hemmed in.”

  Cat tried to smile. Nerves skittered up her back and made her shoulders shudder.

  “You’re cold,” he said. “Let me make you warm.”

  Brock cupped her face between his hands and lowered his head. The kiss started out light, but with a growl of impatience he hauled her close and slanted his mouth across hers. His tongue swept inside, stroking, tasting. When he finally broke the contact, he closed his arms around her, rocking her while he spoke.

  “I can’t believe this is happening to me. I never expected to be knocked off kilter by a woman so fast. I’d almost forgotten what it feels like to be happy, to wake up in the morning and look forward to the day.”

  Cat reached up to touch his cheek. “I’m scared by how much I feel.”

  “You’re not alone.”

  She looked at him and saw the need in his eyes. A sense of calm settled over her as she accepted the power of destiny. Everything in her life had brought her to this moment. Without her marriage to Tim, she wouldn’t have Dalton, and without Dalton starting college, she wouldn’t have traveled out for his first week. Each disappointment along the way had been nothing but a stepping-stone to Brock.

  Her hands rose to the zipper at the back of her gown.

  “No. Let me.” Brock moved to stand behind her and slowly revealed her, pressing kisses on her skin as he moved down along her spine. He straightened and slipped the dress from her shoulders.

  Cat turned around and stood before him in her bra and panties, the dress pooled at her feet. “My turn,” she said and reached out for him.

  Brock took her wrists and pushed her hands away. “No. I can’t wait.”

  She stripped out of her underwear, watching as he discarded his evening clothes, dropping each garment to the floor in his haste. His shaft sprung free, jutting out from the curls at his groin.

  “Get on the bed,” he ordered. Searching on the floor, he picked up his jacket and pulled a pale blue foil envelope from the pocket.

  Confusion clouded her mind. “Where did you get that from?”

  “I bought a packet from the drugstore this afternoon. Jack was at the cash register. I told him I didn’t like the ones you chose a
nd wanted to try a different brand. He was very helpful, remembered what you bought.”

  “You did no such thing!” she cried, horrified.

  His eyes gleamed, sweeping the length of her naked body, full of masculine glee. “I most certainly did. I thought it best not to leave any room for doubt.”

  She watched as he readied himself. Muscles bunched on his biceps as his hands moved with a single-minded intention of not wasting one more second. He turned to her, his arousal thick and heavy.

  “I told you to get on the bed.”

  His hands closed around her waist and Cat found herself tossed on her back across the covers. Like a shield, his weight descended over her. His mouth found hers, hot and consuming. His tongue plunged deep inside, mating with hers, seeking to conquer and seal his ownership.

  A hot surge of desire exploded inside her. She’d never realized how erotic a man’s weight upon her could be. His broad chest and powerful limbs caged her in, pressing her against the mattress, limiting her movements, almost as if she’d been leashed to the bed.

  Brock’s body heat enveloped her. His hips shifted, one leg wedging between hers to push them apart. A tremor of excitement shot up her spine. All her senses intensified. Waiting. Wanting. Her breath caught as his body inched down along hers, the crisp hairs on his chest rasping at her tender nipples.

  Brock used his hands to push her knees wide, so wide that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around him. She felt his fingers at the juncture of her thighs, probing but not sliding inside. A hoarse sound of satisfaction rumbled out of his chest as he felt the gathering moisture.

  She gasped with pleasure and tipped her head back on the pillow.

  He moved up and again lowered his weight over her. The sense of being trapped sent a rush of desire tingling along her skin. She crossed her ankles at the small of his back and clung to him. The thought of capturing inside all that power now harnessed above made her inner muscles clench.

  Just as she coiled tight, Brock reached down to position himself. Cat felt the small nudge, the slight push at her opening. Her hips jerked up in a bold invitation as a contraction tugged in her abdomen.