Secret Nights at Nine Oaks Read online

  “He isn’t.”

  “But he’s rich enough to get out on bail, Cain. His lawyers have already smeared my reputation and warned me that I couldn’t put him away.” She clamped her lips shut, fighting the wave of fear that came.

  “He will go to jail.” Cain sliced roast beef, waiting till she gathered her composure, though his arms ached to comfort her. “What did he do to you?”

  She hopped off the table and put the ice cream back in the freezer. “He taunted me,” she said carelessly, but Cain heard the fear still lingering in her tone. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fine. Sandwich?”

  She shook her head, but snatched a slice of meat anyway.

  Cain was surprised she didn’t rush off, but stayed near, watching him, then lifted her gaze to his face. He didn’t have to make eye contact to know it. He could feel it on his skin. It raised the tension in the large room, narrowing the space around them. He felt charged, crackling with her energy. Cain could smell her perfume, sense the cloth lying against her skin, the soundless slide of silk. And the memory of kissing her so wildly poured through his brain and doused his body with desire.

  He swallowed hard and lifted his gaze to hers. “I’m sorry, Phoebe.”

  “Since we exchanged some nasty words, I’ll ask for what?”

  “For all of it, for the way I spoke to you, treated you the other day.”

  She met his gaze. “I forgive you.”

  His brow shot up.

  She smiled. “I’m not as hard-nosed as you think, Cain. Don’t give me orders again, though.”

  “I should have remembered that you never did like restrictions.”

  “That’s from a childhood of everyone knowing what I was up to and squealing to my parents. Which got me grounded and watched even harder.”

  “I know the feeling. I had a houseful of people that knew what I was up to constantly.”

  “Yeah, but you were the boss.”

  “Not always.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Get real. Might as well have been. No one is going to stop the prince of Nine Oaks from doing what he wants.”

  He spread mayo on the bread and slapped together a sandwich. “Are you saying I’m spoiled?”

  Phoebe fetched him a plate. “Yes, of course you are.”

  He didn’t use it, cutting the sandwich and eating it off the table. “Good God, you are blunt. Why do I feel a lecture coming?” he said, then bit into the sandwich.

  She nipped a pickle from the pile he’d sliced. “Want one? I hate being lectured. But now that you asked…”

  He swallowed fast to defend himself. “I didn’t.”

  “Coward.”

  That brow shot up, looking more darling to her than menacing. She didn’t think he’d want to hear that observation. “You’re used to everyone jumping to your tune.”

  Except her. She danced to her own music. He liked that about her, but felt the need to put in his two cents. “How about you? You want everyone to be on the same tempo—yours. Which is high-octane and in fast-forward.”

  “True,” she admitted, shocking him. She started putting away the food. “But life is too short to waste it on anything, except doing what you want.”

  “But you’re not doing what you want. You’re here, hiding out.”

  “From the press and phone calls. And hello? Don’t throw stones, Blackmon. Why have you refused to leave this place in five years?”

  Instantly his mood changed. Phoebe felt it as if a door slammed somewhere. His body tensed, eyes shuttered. “Don’t dissect me.”

  Slowly she set down a jar and inched closer, forcing him to look at her. He was so darkly handsome, she thought, dressed in rich satins, looking very powerful and wealthy. And incredibly sad.

  “You opened this subject, Cain.”

  Her voice was so gentle Cain felt an ache burst in his chest. He set the last half of the sandwich down, pushing away the plate. “I’m sorry I did.”

  “You loved her that much?”

  His head snapped up, his gaze sharp and suddenly icy.

  “Your wife, Lily. She must have been a wonderful person.”

  “Is that what you think? That I’m mourning her?” Oh for pity sake, Cain thought. The rest of the world thought that, but he didn’t want Phoebe believing the lie. Yet he wouldn’t tell her the truth, either.

  “Well, yes…no, I mean, my mind doesn’t sit still so I can think of all sorts of reasons, but Suzannah believes—”

  “Suzannah hasn’t a clue.”

  “Because you won’t confide in her.”

  “She doesn’t need to know and neither do you.”

  She reared back for a second, hurt by the razor bite in his tone. For a moment, he looked so tortured and ashamed that she knew she had to be misreading the look.

  “Cain? Look at me.”

  He didn’t, closing jars and wrapping food instead. “Don’t think I’m so noble, Phoebe. You’ll be sorely disappointed.”

  He strode out abruptly, leaving her feeling suddenly cold and unprotected. She stared at the empty doorway for a moment, then finished cleaning up the mess. She stopped to eat the untouched half of his sandwich and as she munched, one thing stuck in her thoughts: he wasn’t mourning Lily. So why on earth was he torturing himself with hiding away here?

  “Don’t look at me like that, Benson,” Phoebe said. “He’ll do it.”

  Benson’s stoic expression spoke his doubt. “I wish only to spare you heartache, Miss Phoebe.” The butler handed her the picnic basket and draped the blanket over her arm. “He will not join you.”

  “Doesn’t hurt to try, does it?”

  Phoebe understood his concern and she was touched, since a wiser, more sensible part of herself agreed with him, and warned her to leave Cain alone, mind her own business and enjoy the estate.

  Yet another part of her ached for the man he’d become. The one she saw last night. Gone were the easy smiles, the charm from years ago. Though his mere presence still set her heart pounding and her body—well…on fire, it was her soul that cried for him.

  Like I’ve known him for centuries, she thought again.

  She ignored the fact that by focusing on him she didn’t have time to think about Kreeg and his band of lawyers and what else she’d lose. Those problems seemed so trivial right now. The wiser part of her lost. Easily.

  It was her nature to interfere.

  Especially when Benson told her that although they’d argued, Cain waited for her in the dining room to join her for dinner. As far as she was concerned, she owed him a meal.

  She walked briskly out the front door, then around the west wing toward the veranda outside the library. The best way to get him to come with her would be to coax him out on this beautiful day. Which he could see from his cave.

  Tempt him with food, she thought, and rapped on the glass door, waiting, her stomach in knots.

  Cain left his chair, frowning and wondering who the hell was disturbing him from the patio. When he flung open the door, he was struck first by how beautiful she was in the afternoon light, the sun gleaming off her hair blowing in the breeze, the bright smile she offered despite how he’d snapped at her last night. When he finally dragged his gaze from her compact body in shorts and a simple T-shirt, and those incredible legs, he saw the basket on her arm.

  “No.”

  Her smile melted, and he hated himself for it.

  “But you haven’t heard my proposition.”

  “It’s rather obvious, Phoebe.”

  “Aren’t you hungry? Wouldn’t you like a break from that dark dismal room with all those computers and phone calls and people bugging you?”

  “Does that include you?”

  “Of course not,” she said with an easy smile. If she had to use force, she would, and she grabbed his arm, pulling him toward her and out into the sun. He actually squinted against the brightness, and Phoebe knew she was doing the right thing.

  “It’s gorgeous, breezy and j
ust look at the million-dollar view.” She gestured to the flowers blooming, the live oaks elegantly festooned with Spanish moss. “Come on. Play with me.”

  The implication shot through him like a crack of lightning, and Cain stiffened. Her look dared him, invited him. Hell. He wanted to do much more than play with her. And he couldn’t. Not with Phoebe. He’d be consumed whole if he let himself indulge in her, even if she was only suggesting a picnic. God help him, he didn’t want to hurt this woman. And he knew, eventually, he would.

  “Phoebe, I know you mean well and you think you’re trying to help, but I do not want it.”

  “Help with what?”

  “Me. My life.”

  She gave him a long look up and down that ignited his blood, then said, “You’re a grown man, and don’t need my help. Whatever reasons that you’ve made yourself a recluse, it’s your business. I’m bored and while I enjoy my own company, I want to have a picnic and I’d love for you to join me.”

  “You aren’t giving up on this, are you?”

  “Nope. Face it. I’ll be a nuisance.”

  She got behind him, giving him a push, and Cain smiled when he didn’t move. She kept trying like a kid who wanted someone to ride the roller coaster with her and could find no takers.

  “I have work to do.”

  “You’re the boss, take a day off. And if you say your company can’t stand the inattention, then you’re not that good at running it.”

  He twisted to look at her. “That’s a gauntlet you’ve thrown down, m’lady.”

  “Then pick it up, m’lord.” She winked. “Take the challenge.”

  Cain wanted to go, he truly did. Spending a couple of hours with her was like drinking in sunshine. And she was her usual energetic and impatient self. It was addicting.

  “All right, but let me change.”

  “Oh no,” she said, pushing him toward the stone path. “It’s a ‘Come as you are’ party. You’re not getting a chance to talk yourself out of this.”

  “God, you’re an imp.” And a delight, he thought.

  “So what else is new?” She flashed him that smile, and Cain felt a renewing feeling race through him when he saw it.

  He took the basket from her. “Good grief, what’s in here?”

  “Jean Claude’s Cajun fried chicken…”

  “For an army?”

  “Oh, there’s more, but it’s a surprise.” They walked toward the shore.

  Cain felt apprehension creep up his spine. He hadn’t been near the water in a long time.

  “Want to take a boat ride?”

  “No.” And he didn’t want her to take one, either.

  “Okay, fine. The docks then.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Be brave, I’ll protect you,” she said, already walking briskly toward the pier.

  Cain watched her go, his hands on his hips. The woman was rather comfortable with her own stubbornness. She headed toward the open-air gazebo at the end of one dock. It was more of a place to sit and relax while watching the movement on the river than to dock the boats. Cain hadn’t been here in five years.

  As thoughts of Lily and her death started to crowd his mind, Cain shook them loose and started walking.

  When he caught the scent of the bug fogger and noticed the area was swept clean of debris, he realized she had a conspirator. Yet instead of sitting in the loungers, she went right to the edge of the pier, spread out the blanket and relaxed.

  Phoebe glanced over her shoulder, wondering why he looked so apprehensive just then. “Come, sit.” She patted the space near her, and when he set the basket down, she opened it.

  Cain realized this would be an old-fashioned picnic in more ways than just sitting on the docks with a pretty girl when she lifted out bowls and plates wrapped in cloth and tied with ribbon.

  He was touched beyond measure. She’d planned this carefully, so determined that he join her. He felt honored. He took off his shoes and socks, and her gaze followed him as he lowered himself to the decking.

  “See. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

  “Painful. I have ugly feet.”

  She glanced. “You have big feet,” she teased, her eyes twinkling as she dipped her foot in the water, swishing while she unwrapped food and served up two plates.

  “There’s something about eating outside that makes you take your time, enjoy the view and the tastes.”

  “Are you making excuses for bullying me?”

  “Bullying you? Ha.” She poured sweet raspberry iced tea into thick glasses and handed him one. “You needed to get out or you would have barked and growled and crawled back into your cave.”

  “I think I resent that description.”

  Her gaze sparked with a challenge. “Deny it, I dare you.”

  His lips curved as he met her gaze over the rim of the glass. “Never. You’d gloat.” He sipped once, then bit into a chicken leg and moaned at the explosion of flavors.

  “See, wasn’t it worth Jean Claude’s talent?”

  He merely nodded, hungrier than he’d thought as he finished off the chicken and reached for something else to try. Then suddenly he fingered the edge of the quilt, smiling to himself. “My grandmother’s mother made this.”

  She looked startled at the red, white and blue quilt. “Oh no. Maybe we shouldn’t use it. Benson gave it to me.”

  He waved that off. “No, no, she always said things were made to be used and not viewed from afar.”

  “Sounds like my mom. There wasn’t much in our house that didn’t have a practical use.”

  He stared out over the water. “I used to love sitting out here when I was a kid, fishing and never catching a thing. Just thinking.”

  “Alone time. I do that a lot.”

  “I watched one of your movies.”

  She looked up, chewing. “Really? I just write the stories. Once I sell them, I don’t have any more to say about who plays the roles or what the directors change. I’ve only been hired to do the on-site writes once.”

  “Just the same, you have an amazing talent.”

  She blushed.

  “And a twisted mind.”

  “Rest assured, it’s all fictitious.”

  “Good, you had me worried.”

  She smiled and nipped a spoonful of shrimp salad. “I would be huge if I ate like this all the time. Jean Claude has my undying love and admiration.”

  “Can’t cook?”

  “Sure I can. Open the package, set the timer, nuke it.” He chuckled and his smile changed his whole appearance, Phoebe thought. Now that’s the man she remembered.

  “Even I have more talent than that.”

  “Some people are good at some things, some at others. I don’t cook.” She glanced up as she said, “Only because I never really had to do it, but I’m more than willing to pay those with the talent for their wares.” She shrugged as if that made perfect sense and dug into the fruit compote and sweet cream.

  “I went into the solarium,” he said suddenly.

  She met his gaze. “Oh yeah?”

  She licked cream off her upper lip, and he was enthralled with her tongue passing over that lush mouth. “You were right, there are a lot of rooms no one uses, least of all me.”

  “It’s lovely in there. I think it’s my favorite room.”

  “Have you ever seen the whole house?”

  She rolled her eyes, lifting a spoon of shrimp salad for him. “You should taste this.”

  He caught her hand and brought it to his mouth. He ate off her spoon and something shattered between them, a barrier, a wall, he didn’t know what. “So have you seen the whole plantation?”

  He was closer now, close enough that she could see the sparkle of gold in his eyes. Sexy, restrained power.

  “Yeah, except your bedroom.”

  “That can be arranged,” he said in a heavy voice.

  Awareness simmered between them. “Is that an invitation?” She arched a tapered brow.

  His bod
y clenched at the thought. “For a tour,” he clarified wisely, yet the image of her in his bed sent his mind off to a place he shouldn’t go.

  “Oh, well. How about showing me all of the secret passages?”

  “’Zannah told you,” he muttered dryly, then dipped his spoon into her shrimp salad. “When?”

  “Years ago,” she said with feeling. “How do you think we skipped out of here so often?”

  He shrugged. “Conning Benson.”

  “I adore him, but no. He’d tell if we’d really misbehaved.”

  He was eating off her plate, she off his, tasting and sharing, so that neither realized the time passing. For long moments, Cain listened to her chat about her family. Phoebe had a sister and brother, both married with children and living on another coast. Cain’s parents were off on a summer tour of Europe.

  “I’d have thought you’d be married with kids by now, Phoebe.”

  She groaned. “You sound like my mother.”

  He made a rolling motion for her to keep going.

  “Yes, I want all those girlie dreams, marriage, kids…someday I’ll have a house full of children.”

  She got a faraway look that pricked his heart. “You certainly have the energy to chase after them.”

  She smiled. “They’re such fun. Everything is new to them. Makes you look at the world differently. I think people make the mistake of thinking that once they can talk, they can also understand.”

  Cain drew up his knee and leaned his back against the post. He wasn’t interested in eating or the view, but in listening to her, watching her. She sat with one leg bent, the other swinging slowly in the water as she hovered over the meal. Her appetite was nothing short of startling for one so small. Her petite size made him feel so gargantuan near her. Protective.

  Thoughts of Kreeg and what he might have done to her crept into his mind, and he bit back the questions that plagued him. He didn’t want to ruin this peaceful moment with her. He was deep in his own thoughts and didn’t notice she was standing till she brushed him. He looked up.

  “I want to move this back from the sun,” she said, and he stood to help her tug the quilt farther under the shade.

  She was on the edge, reaching for his tea glass when Cain twisted to take it from her. She turned at the same time, and he bumped her.