Page 16 of Reaching His Heart (The Sartoris 3)

“Cason, if you get angry with me, you could have me fired. You could go after my license.”

“I won’t.”

“You might.”

“Kiss me.”

The man was stubborn down to the marrow in his bones. Then again, maybe she could gain a little freedom from this. She dared not explore that train of thought, and yet it wouldn’t be shaken. Cason was using her to alleviate his boredom. She could use him back. Just for an instant.

She kissed him. A light peck on the lips, but his fingers flared on her back. She relaxed a bit and leaned into him more. Her breasts brushed his chest, and he opened his mouth. Fear crept up her spine, but she parted her lips as well. His tongue swept the interior of her mouth, unnerving her. She tasted him as he tasted her. They explored for what seemed like hours, and then she drew back. He let her go.

She sat up on the side of the bed, facing away from him and trying to catch her breath. Her heart took its sweet time calming down. With a hand pressed to her chest, she willed herself to forget, but her mind was already replaying how it felt, how he tasted, the sounds they made, every single detail.

His voice broke through her internal torment. “Have you ever kissed a white man?”

She didn’t look at him. “No.”

“Then I guess we’re even.”

She faced him then with a slight smile. “You’ve never kissed a white man either?”

He didn’t respond or grin.

“I have to get Joseph. He’ll be hungry.” She stood and walked to the door, all the while expecting him to stop her. He said nothing. After she made it into the hallway, she stopped again to collect her thoughts. Regret washed over her, followed by defiance. It was an amazing kiss. Why shouldn’t she enjoy the memory of it? Cason got what he wanted, but it wouldn’t happen again. That was enough. Now she had to treat him with kid gloves so he would never get mad at her and use her foolishness against her.

* * *

“How is my brother doing?” Ezio asked.

Solette stumbled to a stop when she entered the kitchen. She had never seen this man inside the kitchen. For that matter, she had never seen any of the family there, except for Shakarri, who came in to get milk for her baby instead of waiting on a maid.

“I—He’s doing fine.” She reached a hand up to touch her lips, thought better of it, and tugged an earlobe. A feeling of exposure came over her, and she resisted it. Ezio couldn’t possibly know what they had done. “He’s making good progress. I don’t think we’ll have a problem with pain this weekend.”

“I’m sure,” Ezio said. “All the same, I want you here. I don’t want Cason to hurt any more than necessary—ever.”

She winced. No convincing him she didn’t need to stay. “Well, if you’ll excuse me, I was going to get my lunch, and my son and I will be out of your way.”

Ezio didn’t ask who her son was or why he was there at the mansion. She didn’t know what that meant. Solette scurried to the refrigerator and grabbed her usual lunch. The housekeeper made it, but Solette always served herself. Clara would leave the food in a particular spot for her, and she would grab it and eat outside if the day was good. Sometimes she ate lunch with Cason, but most of the time she ate alone.

As she turned from the table with her tray, Ezio stopped her. “Where is your son’s lunch?”

She swallowed. “I planned to share with him. We didn’t expect—”

“Clara, make up another lunch for her son.”

The housekeeper jumped to action. Ezio downed the last of his canned drink with foreign writing on the side then tossed it into the trash from across the room. He frowned at Solette.

“You’ll both eat the entire time you’re here. You won’t share. Tonight, you can eat with the family as well.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary, Mr. Ezio. I know my place, and—”

He walked out the kitchen door as if she hadn’t spoken.

The housekeeper shook her head. “Non discutere con Signor Ezio.”

“Come again?”

“No argue.” She waved her finger.

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