The Henson Brothers: Two Complete Novels (37 page)

She did. "I'm sure dropping dead would also be another shock, but at least I'd be out of my misery."

Drake slowed down to jog beside her. "How can you be in misery when you have such great company?"

She threw him a cool glance. "Let me count the ways."

"Come on," he urged, poking her in the elbow. "At least give me a slow jog. Good."

"Don't congratulate me, it only gives me a terrible urge to slap you."

"Ha, you wouldn't be able to catch me."

That of course gave her enough energy for the rest of the jog.

She finally caught up with him as he approached the building. "Don't say a word," she ordered, sensing a verbal pat on the back.

"You'll feel better after a shower and a nice dinner."

Cassie made a face. This dinner would of course consist of birdseed and crackers. She walked into the kitchen after her shower and saw Drake put something in the oven.

"Hmm," he said, greeting her with a warm grin. "You smell much better. Set the table." He headed for the shower.

Cassie set put the plates and utensils out, wondering what kind of meal he had prepared: toast with peanut butter, rice cakes with cheese, chicken broth, hot lemon water. She grimaced. She wouldn't complain, they had a common goal. From the stove seeped a heavenly aroma that worsened her mood—the smell of
his
dinner.

Drake came into the kitchen looking pleased with himself and the table. He pushed her into a chair and put dinner on the table: grilled chicken, asparagus tips, and red potatoes.

"Where's my food?" Cassie demanded as he sat. "Oh, don't tell me I mean to starve."

His tone held a slight edge. "I would never do that to you." He held out his hand and she gave him her plate.

She watched, amazed, as he filled it "But I thought—"

"That I would give you bread and water? I don't believe in diets. Food was created to be both enjoyed and utilized. After a workout like ours you need to be rejuvenated."

Who was she to disagree with such logic? She was hungry. "Thanks for today."

"Don't thank me yet." His eyes gleamed with malicious delight. "Tomorrow we lift weights."

* * *

The man had hidden sadistic tendencies. After waking her up at 6:00 and feeding her a delightful breakfast, he began his campaign to ruin her good opinion of him. After sit-ups, push-ups, leg lifts, and aerobics he had put her on a contraption that could only be meant for torture.

"Eighteen, nineteen," Drake counted as Cassie tried to lift the massive weights with her legs. "Twenty." She let her foot drop; the weights crashed with a bang. "Only ten more to go."

She let her shoulders slump. For the first time in their relationship, she couldn't stand to look at him. Couldn't stand to look at that beautiful, perfect physique—the sculpted muscles of his bare chest and solid thighs. "I can't."

"Of course you can."

"Look at me. I'm only sitting here because I can barely stand." She could feel every muscle trembling.

"Ten more," he said.

"I've done everything you've asked," she complained.

"Ten more."

"You're supposed to be a support, not Attila the Hun."

He folded his arms. "Ten more."

"I think you're a low-down, arrogant, obnoxious son of a—"

"You can say that while your legs are in motion."

She gritted her teeth and finished the reps.

"Good, now it's time for a cooldown."

Cassie stood and collapsed on the floor.

Drake stifled a grin. "That's not what I had in mind."

"Oh, but it feels so good." She loved the cool feel of the blue mat against her face.

He pulled her to her feet. "Come on, you've got to stretch."

She snatched her hand away. "Could you just leave me alone!"

"You're the one who wanted to get into shape."

"No, dearie, I am a shape. I only need help to lose weight."

"And you will."

She shook her head, feeling perspiration sliding down her back. "Not this way. It will be easier to starve."

His jaw tightened. "Then do it yourself because you definitely won't get my help." He grabbed his towel and left.

She followed. "I thought this would be like when I was sick and you watched what I ate and fed me broth," she explained breathlessly. Did he have to walk so fast? "I didn't expect such a rigorous regime. This is not what I wanted. What's wrong with skipping a few meals?"

Drake stopped so suddenly she nearly crashed into him. "Starving to you may be some courageous accomplishment, but it's torture to your body and your mind. Denying yourself essential nutrients shouldn't be applauded when there are people who have to starve because they have no choice. I think you're beautiful just the way you are."

"Well, I don't."

He raised his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Then go and starve yourself on your own."

"People fast," she said quickly before he walked away again.

He sniffed. "So it's fasting now?"

"Look," she said gently, "I know it was hard for you growing up."

"Hard?" His voice cracked in disbelief. "It was more than hard. Do you know what it's like to dream about food? To dream about having your own shopping cart and going down the grocery aisles to pick up any items you wanted? Frosted Flakes, Raisin Bran, Jiffy peanut butter, Ritz crackers, Campbell's soup. Why don't you ask Eric how good it felt to be sick every two months or to wake up screaming because your legs cramped up from lack of potassium? Ask Jackie how it felt being the smallest kid in class because your growth was stunned from malnutrition." He leaned against the wall, his harsh tone reflecting in his eyes. "I used to take ketchup packets, mix it with water, and heat it over the stove for soup. I would soak bread in milk, eat sugared toast for dinner, tried to make a can of baked beans last two days." He nodded in grim remembrance. "Yes, it was more than hard."

Cassie wrapped her arms around herself and lowered her eyes. "Well, why don't you ask me how it feels to look like this? To be known as the fat sibling, to get glares from other women when you enter the Dairy Queen line or order something from a fast food restaurant. Try making people laugh all the time because you're afraid you'll burst into tears if you don't. Try sitting with your family at holiday meals and watch them eat whatever they want while you get salad. When you look like me people think you're lazy, sloppy, and disgusting." She looked at him. "A diet shows discipline."

His expression softened. "I know that other people will look at you and judge you. Do you think I don't know what it's like to be judged? You should have heard the accent I had when I first came here. Not only was I poor, I was foreign." He rested an arm on either side of her, effectively trapping her beneath him. His amber gaze caressed her face. "Cassie, the weight is not the issue."

"It's not? Seems like a pretty big issue to me."

He put a finger over her lips. "You're afraid of how powerful you are." He continued before she could argue. "That's why you became Cassandra. A woman not afraid of her beauty, her sexuality, her intelligence... her power. She captivates audiences and has them mesmerized, her size is not a plus or a minus, it's who she is. You are Cassandra—Cassie—A. Graham, a woman with a dynamic career, wonderful friends, and—" He cleared his throat. "And an exceptional lover."

She rolled her eyes.

"You are a force to be reckoned with. Claim that."

"How long have you had that speech saved up?"

He wearily hung his head. "Cassie, have you heard a word I've said?"

She lifted his chin. "Every word." She leaned against him, feeling his chest hairs tickle her cheek. "I love you."

He wrapped an arm around her and held her close. "I know."

"Give me time. I know I'll feel happier when I lose a few pounds."

He continued to hold her, saying nothing.

* * *

The road to happiness was paved with obstacles: exercise that still seemed torturous and weight that refused to budge. But slowly as the week passed it grew easier and she felt free to enjoy herself, to like who Cassie—Cassandra—was with her round face and rounded figure. Her clothes felt a bit looser, but it was her spirit that seemed to float. And for the first time in a long while she decided to go clothes shopping.

Adriana was as stiff as a mannequin when Cassie entered the shop. She had never ventured into Divine Notions because the thought of lingerie frightened her.

"Are you really here?" Adriana asked, amazed.

"I felt like shopping. I can't believe I came here." She glanced wearily at a mannequin wearing a black bra and garter belt.

Adriana came around the counter ready to dismiss any of her doubts. She grabbed Cassie's arm and led her to a rack of garters. "You will not regret it."

"I may not, but my checkbook will."

"Think of this as an investment. Besides, I'll give you a discount."

Cassie was relieved the store had her sizes. She hated finding things she liked only to discover she couldn't fit them. She bought a black velvet robe with a matching silk and lace gown, two embroidered bras, and red panties.

Adriana handed her the purchases. "You are going to look fabulous. Drake won't be able to let you go."

"I hope so."

"So when's the wedding?"

"I'm not sure there will ever be one."

"Cassie, if you want a wedding, close the shop doors and you'll have a ring in no time."

Cassie laughed and waved good-bye, then stepped out into the cool sunlight.

* * *

He watched Cassie walk down the street with her purchases and his heart constricted. He so desperately wanted to say something to her it was painful, but the time wasn't right yet. Henson was still a problem and until that situation was handled, he couldn't let down his guard. Mr. Gianolo's poisoning had been a quiet threat they hadn't paid attention to. So he knew more had to happen before they listened.

* * *

Cassie had almost reached the metro when a black Lexus slid to a stop beside her.

"Cassie!"

She turned and saw Kevin gesturing to her from the backseat.

"There's no need to walk," he said, opening the door. "My driver will take you wherever you wish."

She got in the car and gave him the address.

Kevin studied her for a moment, then glanced at her bags. "You seem happier than when I last saw you. I always find that shopping puts women in a good mood."

"I would say my shopping is a result of happiness rather than the direct cause of it."

"I see." He dropped his voice to a mocking ominous tone. "The ex's revenge. There is no better way to vex an ex than to be happy."

"I can assure you that trying to irritate Timothy is not a source of happiness for me. Although I would agree that showing your ex you are happy without them is good revenge."

He said nothing for a few blocks, then, "So you're truly over him?"

"Yes, and I have been for a long time."

He read the label on the bag. "So you and the bully made up?"

"Yes."

"Am I looking at a June bride?"

"I don't think he's interested in marriage anymore. It's all right with me. I've done it before."

"If you want—"

"After all we've been through, I don't want something else to argue about."

"How do you know it's not something he wants?"

"He would have told me." The car stopped in front of her building. "Don't worry about me."

Kevin sighed. "Easier said than done."

She kissed him on the cheek. "Thanks for everything." She stepped out.

* * *

Cassie gasped when she saw a bouquet of yellow roses lying in front of Drake's door.

She cautiously picked them up and saw her name typed on a card. Could Drake have sent them? She frowned. He had never given her flowers before. She went inside and placed them on the counter. They looked so harmless, why did they fill her with such dread?

"Did you send me flowers?" she asked when Drake arrived home.

"No, why?"

"Because these were delivered to me today." She held up the bouquet. "Perhaps Timothy sent them."

He took the roses and examined them. "No, he wouldn't risk his life to send you roses."

She looked at him, alarmed. "What are you talking about?"

He put the roses down, choosing not to explain his encounter with Timothy. "Who else do you think they might be from?"

She chewed her lower lip. "A number of people."

"A number of people who want to scare you?"

"How do you know they are meant to scare me?"

"Cassie, there's no signature or note. This person wants to remain anonymous. Why? They send them to you at your boyfriend's place. That means they know where you are. Something is not right. Has anything else happened that seemed odd?"

"Strange phone calls."

He took a deep breath, trying to cool his temper. "Why didn't you tell me about this?"

"It seemed harmless," she said, defensive.

"Well, now it's a concern." He reached into his jacket and pulled out a cigarette. "I should have listened to Mr. Gianolo more closely," he said, annoyed with himself.

"Why?"

He lit the cigarette and inhaled. "Because he was worried about one of your admirers. We have to figure out who sent these flowers."

Drake's commanding presence pushed aside her feelings of dread. He was so safe and comfortable. It seemed so silly to worry about flowers. "I've got a surprise for you."

"I'm not sure I like surprises."

"You'll like this one."

"Can't it wait until we..." His voice trailed off when she pulled out her nightgown.

She wrapped the soft silk around his neck. "I believe the answer is no."

* * *

Cedric glanced at the box in his hand as he waited near the front of the restaurant. He hadn't bought her something because he liked her, he reminded himself. It was the holidays and it seemed like a nice thing to do, that's all. She'd been nice to him and she wasn't so bad when she got off her pedestal every once in a while. She probably hadn't gotten him anything, not that he cared. He just had to make sure his gift didn't look like a real gift, just something he picked up. He was sure she would like it—a case to hold her earrings.