Cassia pressed the doorbell and waited. Her palms were moist, so she wiped them on a black skirt she was wearing that fell just above her knee. She quickly ran her tongue over her teeth, then straightened her blouse.
The door opened suddenly, bringing her face-to-face with the object of her desire.
“Cassia,” Dylan said, his expression neutral. “Come in.”
“If you’re busy, I can just—”
“No, not at all,” he said motioning for her to enter.
She swept past him into a home that exuded style, warmth and masculinity. He closed the door behind her and gestured to the couch across the room. “Have a seat. Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you.”
He took a spot across from her. “So, what’s up? You mentioned you needed to discuss something about the agency?”
Dylan’s woodsy cologne made it hard to concentrate, as did the navy-blue sweater that molded to his torso tighter than a sports car hugging a race track. Cassia tried to refocus her attention, but it was hard when gazing into his face meant staring at his stubbled jaw and eyes the color of twelve-year old whisky. She could swear she felt perspiration forming above her professionally shaped brows. She blamed her assistant, Tabitha, for this sudden, new awareness of him. Her carefully packaged feelings for Dylan had been neatly tucked away, and now the bow was starting to unravel.
Suddenly, Cassia stood and moved across the room, pretending to be studying the paintings on his wall, but in truth she was just hyper aware of everything from the unhurried pace of his breathing, to the way the dimmed light in the living room enhanced the hue of his eyes.
“We have a new client,” she finally said, scanning the antique world map adorning his wall. “Mrs. Maya La Dova.”
“As in La Dova resorts?”
“One and the same.” Cassia confirmed, with a quick glance over her shoulder.
“So, what does this have to do with me?”
“Well, since your father’s health scare, things have been a bit…uncertain,” she turned to lay eyes on him. “Especially since you’ve always been vocal about not wanting to work here.”
Dylan frowned. “You know why. I’d signed a non-compete clause. Plus, my boss was reluctant to see me go because I was his best investigator. Apparently, I was very good at what I did,” he said with mirth.
Some of the breeze whooshed out of Cassia’s sails. “Oh. I didn’t know that.”
He stared at her with surprise. “I just assumed you knew. Anyway, it’s all straightened out and won’t be an issue.”
Cassia was dumbfounded. “Neither dad, nor Michael ever told me. I always thought you just didn’t want to be here. It was one of the reasons I didn’t think you’d be a good fit.”
Dylan covered the distance between them in five strides.
“Only one?” he replied. “It was never an issue of wanting to, Cassia. Besides, heart attacks have a way of changing people’s minds.”
She nodded. “Point taken.”
Without warning, the air grew taut with tension. Cassia’s breathing was choppier by the second. Dylan leaned in closer. Cassia resisted the urge to back up.
“Why don’t you trust me, Cass?”
Caught off guard by his proximity, sheer height, and unhurried air, Cassia hesitated. He’d never used a nickname for her before.
“It’s not that I don’t trust you…well that’s not entirely true. I’m passionate about my work, and the company. I don’t want anything to jeopardize either one.”
“I’m also committed to making sure we thrive. Our fathers formed this company and devoted every waking moment to its prosperity Now that we’ve taken over for them, I’m just as dedicated to seeing us grow.” He folded her arms across his chest. “It’s easier to do that when we’re both on the same page—are we?”
Cassia walked back to the couch. She sat down and smoothed the non-existent wrinkles out of her skirt. “Why would you doubt it?”
“Because reading people is what I do.” He crossed the room and sat down. His frank gaze pinned her to the spot. “And my instincts tell me two things; that you like not sharing the spotlight. And that my commitment to work has nothing to do with the tension between us.”
When she remained silent, Dylan finally said, “So what did you need?
Happy to discuss about anything besides their personal history, she blurted out, “Will you be my husband?”
In the anthology, SPICE readers get a taste of the most anticipated fiction offerings of the year. Readers will enjoy this eclectic blend that will stay with you long after the pages have been turned.
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