Chapter Eleven
C athy paused at the bottom of the stairs.
As usual her heart was pounding. She was getting used to the sensation.
She worked with Stone every day and managed to act and even feel completely normal.
But as soon as something happened to upset their routine, or they moved out of the comfortable employer/employee relationship—like tonight—she was a walking, breathing set of vibrating nerves.
“You’ll be fine,” she told herself as she smoothed her hair back from her face.
She’d had it trimmed recently and she loved the way the soft, highlighted waves fell around her face.
After her cut, she’d paid for a second makeup lesson and even bought a few products.
Daily practice had made her confident about her abilities to duplicate what the makeup artist had done.
Her dress was new, one of several things she’d purchased to flatter her trimmer figure.
She still jogged regularly, and a few weeks of weight lifting had done their bit to tone her body.
If she held her arm just right, she could even see a little muscle definition.
All in all, this was the best her life had ever been. If she could just get over what seemed to be a permanent set of nerves, everything would be fine.
She heard footsteps in the foyer. Ula walked slowly toward her holding something long and dark in her arms. The housekeeper stopped in front of her.
“You look very beautiful,” she said as she smiled at Cathy.
“You’re too kind.” Cathy felt herself blushing. Beautiful was definitely an exaggeration. She looked pretty good. Although compared with her old frumpy, chubby self, the transformation could realistically be called amazing.
“The dress is lovely.”
Cathy glanced down at the rust-colored knit dress she wore.
It had long sleeves and was fitted through her waist and hips.
Then the fabric flared out a little before softly falling around her calves.
There was a low scoop neck in front and an even lower scoop in the back.
The color brought out the red highlights in her hair and made her eyes as green as a cat’s.
The style flattered her figure and made her grateful for all the miles she’d logged.
“Thanks,” she said. “I fell in love with it at the store. I’ve never really owned pretty things and I couldn’t resist.”
“Mr. Ward will be most impressed. To that end, I have a contribution to make. It’s a little chilly tonight, and I thought you might like to borrow this.”
Ula held out a stunning hunter green velvet cape. The lining was silk, and a darker green. Cathy stared in disbelief. “Ula, it’s wonderful. But you can’t mean to lend it to me. It’s too fabulous.”
The older woman shrugged. “I never wear it. Besides, it’s your twenty-ninth birthday, and you deserve something special.”
Cathy thought about protesting. After all, Ula had already baked her a special “low-cal” birthday cake that they’d shared at lunch that day.
The housekeeper had also given her a hardcover book she’d wanted.
But she couldn’t speak just now. Not because she didn’t know what to say but because her throat was tight with unshed tears.
“You have been so kind to me,” she managed to say at last.
Ula tsked. “There will be none of that,” she said. “No crying. You’ll ruin your makeup. Then you’ll get me going, and I hate to show emotion. So take it. On me, the cape drags to the floor, but I suspect it will hang just past your dress on you, so it will be perfect.”
Cathy took the offered heavy garment and swirled it over her shoulders. The silk lining was heavenly soft and cool against her neck and shoulders.
“I feel like a princess,” she said, and bent down to hug the smaller woman. Hard to believe that when she’d first arrived, she had thought of Ula as cold and stern. Now she knew a warm heart beat behind the stoic facade.
Ula hugged her back. “Have a good time, Cathy. Enjoy your birthday.”
“Thank you.” She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the front door. The beautiful cape gave her that added bit of confidence she needed to actually step outside. With a little luck, Stone would never know she was nervous.
She walked out into the night. It was just after nine.
When Stone had invited her out to dinner to celebrate her birthday, his only two requests were that he choose the restaurant and that it be later in the evening.
She understood that he was nervous about being seen.
Given his reluctance, she had been even more touched by his invitation.
She wished there was a way to convince him how very little his scars meant to her. Perhaps if she—
She stared at the vehicle waiting in the circular driveway and felt her mouth part. She’d expected to see the BMW with Stone behind the wheel. Instead, a dark limousine waited at the foot of the stairs. Stone lounged next to it. She caught the flash of white as he smiled.
“You look surprised,” he said.
“I am. I’ve never been in a limo before.”
He opened the door and gestured for her to enter. “Then come have a look. They’re fun.”
As she walked down the stairs, she reminded herself this wasn’t a date.
It was dinner out with her boss. Nothing more.
But as she approached and saw he was dressed in a perfectly fitted suit and tie, then bent to step into the limo and saw the champagne on ice waiting, she couldn’t stop a flicker of anticipation from moving through her.
It was her birthday, after all. And she knew exactly what she was going to wish for when she blew out her candles.
* * *
Stone settled next to Cathy in the back of the limo, then reached for the champagne. Perhaps it was overdoing things a little, but he hadn’t been able to resist. He’d suspected that her previous life hadn’t had much in the way of special surprises, and she deserved this and more.
He filled the two flutes, then handed her one. “Happy birthday,” he said.
She smiled. “Thank you, Stone. You’ve made this evening very special.”
“It hasn’t even started yet.”
“It’s already wonderful.”
In the dim light of the rear seating area, her eyes looked black.
Shadows flirted with the lines of her pretty face, emphasizing her high cheekbones and full mouth.
The long cape surrounded her, concealing her shape from him, but he knew what she looked like.
He’d seen her in workout clothes and tailored dresses enough to know that her commitment to fitness had paid off.
He’d always liked her and enjoyed her company.
He’d found her physically appealing even before she’d started her quest for personal improvement.
But now there was an extra spark. He’d admired her because he’d known who she was on the inside.
Now any man would want her, simply based on her appearance.
Stone felt a hint of something primal stir, and it took him a moment to figure out it was the beginnings of jealousy. Ridiculous, he told himself. There was no one to be jealous of. Besides, he wasn’t interested in Cathy that way.
But the lie was getting harder and harder to believe. Just being next to her was enough to turn him on. It had been that way for weeks. Still, he never hinted. She must never know. It was wrong of him to want her. First because of Evelyn, and second because of Cathy.
To the former, he owed a debt he could never repay.
To the latter, he owed respect. While he didn’t agree with Ula’s assessment that Cathy could fall in love with him, he knew she was innocent enough that a physical relationship would give her the wrong impression of his feelings.
She would want and expect more from him than he was capable of giving.
He didn’t want to set her up. So instead, he suffered, needing her in ways he’d never needed a woman before.
Cathy leaned back in the seat and sipped her drink. “It’s a perfect night,” she said. “When I was getting dressed, I noticed I could see stars from my bedroom window.”
That was the difference between them, he thought. She would look at the night and see stars, while he was only interested in the safety and cover provided by the darkness.
“We’ll have to admire them when we get to the restaurant,” he said.
She looked at him. “You don’t go out much, do you? I don’t think you’ve left the house since I moved in.”
“That’s true.” He’d been out to see her in the hospital, but not since.
She placed her hand on top of his. “You didn’t have to do this for me.”
Her touch was trusting, as was her expression.
If she knew what the cool pressure of her fingers was doing to him, she would be afraid.
In the past month or so, the wanting had become unbearable.
He needed her all the time. Just being in the same room with her was enough to make him hard.
He didn’t know what had changed in his life and he knew he didn’t like it.
He wanted to go back to the way things were.
He wanted to be dead again. Feeling nothing was better than constant agony.
But there was no way to turn back time. Eventually he would figure out how to deal with his wayward body. Eventually he would shut down again. He always had in the past. He didn’t have a choice—he wasn’t allowed to have more.
“I wanted to make the evening special,” he told her. “Birthdays come around so seldom.”
“Barely once a year,” she said teasingly.
“I’ve noticed that. I spoke with Ula about what I wanted to do, and she made the arrangements. We’ll be fine.”
Her fingers squeezed his. “I’m not worried, Stone. I think the scars bother you more than they bother anyone else.”
“Perhaps,” was all he said, thinking she had never experienced the gasps or stares, the artless comments of children who didn’t know better than to speak what they were thinking.