Beg For You (Rocktown Ink #1) Read online

  Chapter Six

  Cassandra

  Tierra whinnied her delight when I urged her to go faster. The cool morning air tugged at my clothes and hair, stinging my cheeks. I needed this. I’d dreamed of Cal, God, all week, of what he’d done to me in front of that mirror.

  But last night it had been different. In my dream, I’d been looking at him, into his dark brown eyes, so heated and fierce, and then his face had vanished, and Spencer’s had taken his place.

  I’d woken sweating and shaking. Stomach in knots, body confused. The lust of my dream forced out by the reality of my future.

  The more I thought about it, the harder it was to see my way out of this. I felt trapped, more alone than I had in my whole life.

  Out here with Tierra, I felt free, and it was so tempting to keep riding, to just keep going and never come back.

  But I refused to give up. I had an appointment with my bank manager in a few days to try to raise the money myself, and I’d been researching possible investors, someone willing to sink money into the ranch with the hopes that the breeding program, and the profit that it would eventually bring in, would make us look more attractive.

  Finally, I slowed to a trot. I was riding along the border between ours and the Livingstons’ property. I could see their ranch in the distance. They’d knocked down the original house years ago and built the monstrosity there now.

  It didn’t belong there. It was as out of place on that piece of land as I would be. I belonged here. I would always belong here, like my gran. And if I turned Spencer down, we’d lose this place. We’d lose everything and my gran wouldn’t recover from the pain of it. I knew that without a doubt.

  Which meant I needed to find a way out of this mess.

  A horse and rider appeared in the distance, and I waited as they grew closer.

  Spencer.

  I wanted to turn and escape, but I knew that would be the worst thing I could do. I forced myself to stay where I was as he approached. He’d recently taken to wearing a Stetson. The man thought he was a cowboy, when, like his father and mine, he’d spent more time behind his desk than out on his ranch. It looked ridiculous on his pin head. He tapped the brim as he eased on the reins, slowing his horse to a stop.

  There was a fence between us, but that didn’t help the unhappy way my belly clenched when his eyes slid to me.

  “Cassandra, this is a nice surprise.” He twisted in his saddle, looking back at his McMansion. “Enjoying the view?” He grinned. “One day it could be all ours. All of it.”

  Was that his attempt at charm? Bragging about all we’d have if I went ahead with this sham marriage? That was the opposite of charming and proved how little about me he actually knew.

  It was only the memory of Cal’s hands on me, the rough way he grunted dirty things in my ear, that kept me grounded and not lose my composure completely.

  I made sure my cool mask was in place when I answered him, while inside I was being flayed alive. “Nothing has been decided yet.”

  The easy smile slipped. “Well, don’t wait too long, will you, darling? Your father’s creditors will only be kept at bay for so long.”

  He dipped his chin, smiled an oily smile, pulled his horse around, and rode off.

  Stomach in knots, I did the same and headed for home to get ready for work.

  When I was showered and dressed, I stopped by the main house to check on Gran. She was sitting in the sunroom, some color in her cheeks. On days like this, you wouldn’t know how sick she was. They were my favorite. I smiled wide when I walked in and she turned to me.

  “You’ve been keeping secrets from me, my girl,” she said, a wicked glint in her eyes.

  My feet stopped their forward momentum abruptly, my heart stalling along with them. “What secret?” I felt like I had so many at the moment, none of them anything I wanted my grandmother in on.

  “Your father tells me you’ve been seeing the Livingston boy, that it’s quite serious and he wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some kind of announcement soon.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. That my father had actually lied to her like that. Was he so sure I’d do what he wanted? Obviously, if he was laying the groundwork with my grandmother for the day I told her I was getting married.

  She held out her hand for me and I moved toward her, feeling numb, betrayed. Hurt. I took her soft hand and she squeezed it.

  “I know I’ve spent a lot of years griping about that family, and I’m sorry if I made you feel like you couldn’t tell me about this relationship because of it.” She lifted my hand and pressed a kiss to the backs of my fingers, her eyes getting bright with emotion. “If Spencer makes you happy, then I’m happy for you, my girl. That’s all I’ve ever wanted for you. A love like your grandfather’s and mine is what you deserve.”

  Tears filled my eyes as well, but for a different reason. My heart felt like it was cracking in my chest. “Thank you,” I whispered. It was all I could manage.

  She chuckled softly. “I think I can get over my grudge quite easily, even tolerate Spencer’s old coot of a father, knowing that one day the land your father sold off will be yours again.”

  The fractured pieces barely holding together in my chest crumbled to my feet. I forced a smile for her benefit.

  Her eyes brightened further, and she winked up at me. “Who knows, I might even get to hold one of my great-grandbabies if time’s on my side.”

  Nausea washed over me. The idea of sharing Spencer’s bed, of letting him touch me, made me feel physically ill. There was only one man I wanted, one man who could make my body sing.

  He’s not for you. You know what you have to do.

  I leaned in and kissed Gran on the cheek. “I better get to work.”

  She patted my hand. “Okay, I’ll let you off this time. But I want to be the first to know if there are any further developments.”

  “I promise you will,” I said and turned to leave.

  My father stood by the door, expression carefully blank. “Cassandra,” he said in greeting.

  “Dad,” I said, letting him see just how angry I was at him for talking to Gran. I knew he didn’t miss it when he blanched.

  I strode past and he followed.

  “It had to be done,” he said when I was at the front door, about to leave.

  I spun to face him. “I haven’t given you my answer yet.”

  He ran a hand over his hair, and his fingers were shaking. “Did you see how happy she was? How delighted she was knowing that we’d be getting our land back, that you’d be settled before—”

  “Don’t,” I bit out.

  “Cassandra—”

  “You need to back off. I need time with this, do you understand? You need to stop pushing so I can think.”

  “What is there to think about?” he said, voice hardening. “This is your family, your home. Are you telling me you’re willing to let us sink?”

  “I need to go.”

  “Cassandra—”

  I walked out the door, pulling it closed behind me.

  How had this become my life? What had I done to deserve this?

  You kept silent and now Chris is dead.

  I’d heard of karma, of course. The theory of what you put out into the universe, you got back tenfold, or something along those lines. This felt an awful lot like that. Chris lost his life, and now I could lose mine.

  Yes, I’d still be breathing.

  I’d just wish I wasn’t.

  I stood back and admired a new painting. It was bold, vibrant, a real statement piece. It wouldn’t be here long. I knew my clientele, and this was exactly the kind of work that sold well. I’d opened the gallery straight out of college with a fine arts degree and no idea how to run a business. Honestly, I never expected to make a real living from it.

  Turned out I was wrong. The gallery not only supported itself, it provided me with a more than adequate salary as well as enough to hire another full-time employee.

  With
the small trust fund I’d received from my mother to fall back on, I’d been free to pursue something I desperately wanted. I’d used most of that money to get started, not letting my hopes get too high. I just wanted to do what I loved.

  Something independent of my father.

  Back then he’d refused to even consider breeding horses again, so I’d been forced to find something else I was passionate about.

  Now I wondered why he’d suddenly changed his mind. Had he known it would bind me even tighter to our property? Had he made plans with Spencer even farther back than he was letting on?

  “Where were you thinking for this one?” Ted asked as he strode over to me, pointing to the painting still leaning against the wall.

  It was one of his own. I thought it might be his best yet.

  Our mothers had been best friends when we were kids, so I’d known Ted and his brother most of our lives, despite our families being in completely different social circles. When we went to college our own friendship had strengthened.

  Ted became my best friend, and I couldn’t do without him.

  He was also an extremely talented artist. His work often sold before I got it up on the wall. Still, he only released a few pieces a year. He said he liked working here, even though I thought he could make more money painting full time. I couldn’t say I wasn’t happy about this, though. I wasn’t sure I could do this without him.

  I turned to my friend, then glanced down at the painting. “I was thinking the back wall so it’s the first piece you see when you walk in.”

  He smirked. “The other artists will think you’re playing favorites.”

  “You are my favorite. If they don’t like it, they can suck it.”

  “Suck it?” Ted parroted. “Suck what, good girl?”

  He was teasing me, of course, but I guess for me suck it was kind of out of character.

  I shrugged. “Since I decided to dislodge the carrot up my butt and start living.”

  Ted’s brows lowered. “Who are you and what have you done with my friend?”

  I didn’t look at him. He was too astute, could read me like a book, and he’d know something was bothering me as soon as we made eye contact. I stayed focused on his latest painting. A nude. Ted painted real people with all their flaws and imperfections. His model for this piece was a military veteran. She stood proud, her strong, scarred body captured in a way that was nothing short of beautiful.

  If only I could find half of her courage.

  Her scars made me think of Cal. Everything made me think of Cal. It felt like forever, not four days since I showed up at his door and begged him to finish my tattoo. Since I’d lost my head and he’d made me come so hard, I’d been in a jumble of fear and excitement, of desperate need.

  I still hadn’t decided if I was going to go to my appointment tomorrow, because the way he made me feel could become addictive.

  “And wear a skirt.”

  I shook off my thoughts, Cal’s voice echoing through my head, and glanced at Ted. “She’s sick of letting other people push her around.”

  Ted crossed his arms over his wide chest. “Has something happened? Has your father said something—”

  “No,” I said, cutting him off. I hated lying to him, but he’d lose his mind if he knew what my father had asked of me, how he was manipulating me. “No. It just…I don’t know, life’s too short and all that.”

  Or in my case, time was running out. I’d never been able to say no to my father. He knew this. He also knew exactly how to get me to do what he wanted. But going as far as using my gran’s health to bend me to his will? Asking me to marry someone to save him? That was a new low.

  I still couldn’t believe he expected me to do it. I’d been waiting for his call all week to say he was sorry, that he knew he was asking too much, and to forget the whole thing. But the call hadn’t come, and then talking to Gran this morning, and seeing him, I knew that wasn’t going to happen.

  Everything in me rejected the idea. But I couldn’t think of a way out of this mess just yet. I knew I couldn’t sit by and watch my family be destroyed. Gran hurt. Watch my father’s business fall apart, watch him and Gran lose their home, lose everything.

  “Ceecee…” Ted started, using the name he’d called me since we were ten.

  I forced a bright smile. “Honestly, there’s nothing wrong.”

  He was about to start grilling me. He had his interrogation expression front and center, little frown lines creasing his forehead. He opened his mouth.

  “Are you busy tomorrow night?” I blurted.

  His head tilted to the side, eyes narrowing. “Why?”

  I gave him my best sad-puppy eyes. “There’s this gala I have to attend. I could use a date. Plus, there’ll be loads of cute girls there.”

  He didn’t look convinced.

  “You know you want to,” I said, batting my lashes.

  “Last time you said there’d be hot babes, you lied. It was a sea of gray hair and pearls.”

  “Not this time, I promise.” I fluttered my lashes faster.

  He shook his head. “You’re going to give yourself an eye injury.”

  “Is that a yes?” I really didn’t want to go alone. Spencer would be there, and if Ted was with me, he wouldn’t be able to corner me.

  “Fine,” Ted said then narrowed his eyes again. “But if I walk in and it’s wall to wall fur coats and bifocals, I’m never trusting you again.”

  I tugged him in for a hug. “You won’t regret it, I promise.”

  He grunted and walked off.

  “See,” I said, giving Ted’s arm a squeeze. “Not a pair of bifocals in sight.”

  A smile curved his lips and he grabbed a crab cake from a tray as it was carried past. “And the hors d’oeuvres are pretty good as well.” His sparkling brown eyes slid down to me. “Did I tell you how hot you look tonight?”

  “You don’t look too bad yourself.” Ted looked gorgeous. No one wore a suit like him. Sometimes I thought life would be so much easier if the idea of kissing him didn’t squick me out.

  And the feeling was entirely mutual.

  Our feelings leaned more toward brother and sister than anything else. Always had.

  His grin got wider. “I should hope so. This suit cost a bomb.”

  I felt a grin stretch my lips when I thought it was impossible. Another reason I asked Ted to come with me—he knew how to cheer me up. Not that he knew I needed cheering up. “No one could ever accuse you of being coy.”

  “They definitely couldn’t. Now, do you want another glass of champagne?” He waved his empty glass.

  I glanced across the room to where I’d last seen Spencer. Maybe he’d left? Wishful thinking. I needed a clear head, not only in case Spencer tried to talk to me but also for my appointment later in the night with Cal…if I actually went. I still hadn’t decided.

  “Juice for me, thanks.”

  I moved back to the edge of the room to wait while Ted grabbed the drinks. It was darker, which meant less chance of being spotted. I pulled my phone from my purse and checked the time. My appointment with Cal was at eleven.

  We’d be alone.

  My breasts tightened against the silk of my dress. Could I do this, go back, let him touch me, let him do all the things I’d wanted from him since the moment I saw him? He was gruff and blunt, and kind of terrifying. He was also intense and the sexiest man I’d ever met. How many times had I touched myself thinking of him this week, remembering the way it felt to have his hands on me, cupping my breasts, the way his fingers felt inside me?

  I shivered.

  More than I cared to admit to myself.

  “Cold?” a familiar voice said close beside me.

  I spun to face Spencer, stomach sinking.

  Twice in two days. Lucky me.

  He was quite a bit taller than me, and I guess some people would call him handsome. Not me. His personality shone through loud and clear. There was always a calculating look in his eyes and line
s around his mouth that made him look mean. No, I knew far too much about him to find him attractive.

  I wanted to tell him to get lost, to stick his sick deal where the sun didn’t shine. I couldn’t do that, though, not when my family’s future was at stake. I had to play the game and hold my cards close to my chest, at least until I could find a way out of this.

  “No. I’m fine.” I couldn’t even force a smile.

  His eyes moved over me in a way that made my skin crawl. “Would you like a drink?”

  “No. Thank you. Ted’s getting me one.”

  Spencer scowled.

  Ted and Spencer had met several times at events like this, and they’d taken an instant dislike to one another. I glanced at the bar, wishing he’d hurry back. Ted was leaning on it casually, talking to the barwoman, and they looked rather engrossed in what the other was saying. Crap.

  “You look stunning tonight,” Spencer said, crowding closer. “You have a beautiful body, Cassandra. And that blue looks amazing with your eyes.”

  The dress was a style I often wore. Long, skimming my curves. Full length, fitted sleeves, the neckline a deep V showing a decent amount of cleavage to make up for the fact I was basically covered from neck to ankle.

  His words slid over me, oily and unwanted, and I wanted to shove them back in his head and make him swallow them. Somehow everything that came out of his mouth sounded sleazy. He could give a weather report and make my skin crawl. I forced a small smile. “Thank you.”

  “Have you had a chance to talk to your father?” he said, voice lower, this part of the conversation meant for my ears only.

  I swallowed the bitter taste in my mouth. “Not since you saw me this morning.”

  He didn’t look happy about that. “I trust”—one of his hands slid around my waist and I flinched—“you’ll give my proposal the thoughtful consideration it deserves.”

  It took everything I had not to shove him away. “I don’t love you, Spencer,” I said, repeating to him the same words I’d said to my father. Spencer obviously wasn’t a sensible man, he’d proven that by thinking he could force someone into being his wife, but he was a businessman. Surely he could see how a loveless marriage, a forced marriage, would be problematic. A bad bet. That the connections my father could bring to the table if this partnership went ahead wouldn’t be worth a miserable life with a woman who had no feelings for him.