Then the painting over the fireplace caught his eye, and he moved closer to inspect it. It took a moment to grasp its subject, and even then he wasn’t sure if his interpretation was correct. It appeared to be a garden. The colors were wispy and dreamlike, and the foliage and flowers—if that’s what they were—were oddly depicted and even distorted. Nowhere could he pick out a rose, for example, or a carnation, and yet he had the impression of a dozen varieties of flowers. He was no connoisseur of oil paintings, of any kind of art, for that matter, and yet he felt this was a good piece of work.
Then he spotted the initials in the lower right corner of the painting—CW—and comprehension dawned. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he mumbled under his breath.
Cass returned with a tray. Gard turned. “Are you this CW?”
“It’s one of mine, yes.” Calmly Cass poured coffee into two cups. She had no desire or intention to discuss her work with Gard Sterling. “Please...sit down and have your coffee.”
“Thanks.” Gard sat and accepted the cup of coffee, but he was still thinking about that painting. “Is that what you do in Oregon, or is oil painting just a hobby?”
Cass heaved a long-suffering sigh. “Gard, I don’t want to talk about me. I really don’t want to talk about you, either, except for one point. Have you come to a decision on that option?”
His eyes narrowed on her over his cup. “You don’t like me, do you? Why not, Cassandra? What did I do to make you dislike me? I know something happened, but I can’t remember it for the life of me. I’ve tried since the other day at the Plantation, but I can’t come up with anything. You obviously remember what it was, so why don’t you fill me in on it?”
The thought of sitting here and calmly narrating that night at the sand dunes nearly undid Cass. Her hand was suddenly shaking, and to avoid spilling coffee all over her own lap, she placed her cup on the table to the right of her chair.
“It seems to me that you are looking for ways to avoid discussing that option,” she said accusingly. “I am not going to talk about old times with you, Gard, neither the good nor the bad. Just give me a straight answer. Have you made that decision?”
The small crack in her rigid self-control made him wonder if he couldn’t widen it. “Then it wasn’t all bad? With you and me, there were also some good times?”
Cass’s anger erupted. She jumped to her feet. “You may as well leave. It’s perfectly obvious that you’re no closer to a decision on that option than you were at our first meeting.” Her eyes flashed angrily. “I won’t be played with, Gardiner. I think you’ve had more than enough time to ‘study the consequences,’ and just maybe a judge will agree with me.”
Gard finished drinking the coffee in his cup, slowly enough that Cass wanted to screech at him, then stood up and brought the empty cup to the same table on which Cass had placed hers. “Seems to me that you’re getting pretty riled up over nothing,” he said with annoying calmness. “As for playing with you, Sassy Whitfield, a legal battle isn’t my idea of fun.”
He was standing right in front of her, and she vowed not to back away no matter what he did. This was her house, and this whole mess was his fault. “A legal battle is what you’re going to get, if you don’t make that decision,” she said, putting it forcefully.
“Know what I think, Sassy, honey? I think you’re mad at me for something that has nothing to do with that contract.”
“That’s absurd! I told you I want to clean things up here so I can return to my own home.”
“Then you’re not mad at me for some old sin I can’t even remember?”
Cass’s lips thinned. “I don’t doubt your memory lapse. No one could remember as many sins as you’ve racked up. The list is probably still growing.”
Gard grinned. “Today I am a solid citizen, Miss Whitfield. Which brings up an interesting question. How come you’re still a Miss?”
“You nervy...” She stopped short of an insulting name. “My personal life is none of your business! I’d like you to leave. Don’t underestimate me, Sterling. I haven’t forgotten how to handle a shotgun.”
Gard laughed. “Now you’re going to shoot me? Damn, I really must have done something terrible to make you think of murder. Did I kiss you?” His eyes crinkled teasingly. “Or maybe you wanted me to kiss you and I didn’t? Was that it?”
That was all Cass could take. Her anger exploded. “You conceited, amoral egomaniac! Get the hell out of my house! Any future communication about that contract will be between our lawyers. I will not tolerate any more of—”
The rest of her words were trapped in her throat. Gard had grabbed her and kissed her so fast, she hadn’t seen it coming. His arms held her in place, and his mouth moved on hers with complete and utter possession. Her fury was so intense, it nearly burst through her skin, but there wasn’t any way to break away. She tried all the tricks, the wriggling, the stamping on his toes, the growled, unintelligible invectives. If her hands were free, she would yank out every hair on his head. But her hands weren’t free; they were trapped at her sides by the strength of his brawny arms.
And then it began happening, a deeply rooted inner response to his heat and power. To him, to Gard Sterling, the last man in the world she wanted to feel anything for.
Gard finally broke the kiss and lifted his head. His eyes contained a slightly puzzled cast. “Kissing you feels kind of familiar. Should it?”
“You’re disgusting!” Internally Cass was a mass of quivering ambiguities. How dare he kiss her? But worse than his crime was her own; although she had shown nothing of what she’d felt during that kiss, she had liked it way too much.
The word disgusting hit Gard hard. He dropped his arms and took a backward step. “Guess I’d better apologize. I don’t know what came over me.”
Cass was trembling. “You haven’t changed an iota. You still do whatever comes to your mind and to hell with the consequences. Most people have grown up by the time they reach your age. Apparently you haven’t.”
Gard was feeling a little silly. He hadn’t grabbed a woman and forced a kiss on her since...since... Hell, had he ever forced a kiss on a woman?
Still, however foolish he felt, wasn’t Cassandra overreacting? She was genuinely furious, making truly cutting remarks, casting aspersions not only on his behavior in the past but on the kind of man he was today.
His voice became noticeably cooler. “I have grown up, lady, but I’m beginning to wonder about you. You’re just waiting to pounce on whatever I say or do, and—”
Cass broke in. “I suppose kissing a woman without any warning is adult conduct? And don’t waste your time wondering about me, not in any context. You and I wouldn’t be having these abominable meetings if it weren’t for that despicable contract, and I have to question where your father’s and mine’s good sense was when they devised such a...a ludicrous agreement.”
“It was a damned good agreement in their time,” Gard growled. “And it’s still good. Let me ask you this. Why do you feel like you have to hang around until I make a decision? Go on back to Oregon, if that’s what you’re so anxious to do. You’ve got capable employees. Let them take care of the place. They probably know a hell of a lot more
