Call Me Casanova, Book Three: The Better Man Read online

  Cassandra took a deep breath and released it slow. “I'm sorry,” she offered, a mild tightness still squeezing her voice. “I shouldn't have slapped you. But you had no right to call me a bitch.”

  Gregory grunted and grabbed Wiley's reins and led the horse around her. “But you had the right to call me a worthless piece of shit? Kind of ironic how everything is okay for you, but not for me.”

  “I didn't call you that, Gregory.”

  “Sure as fuck sounded that way to me.” He started to mount up when Cassandra grabbed his arm, halting him.

  “I didn't . . . mean it like that.” But had she? What did she really think of Gregory Stanton?

  He turned and faced her, the hardness of his handsome face causing her to release his arm and step back. “Then tell me—how did you mean it?” When she just stared at him, at a sudden loss for words and not sure how to answer his question, he snorted. “Right. Enough said.”

  “Gregory—”

  “Save it,” he said. “Did you really think I wasn't aware all along what you thought of me? Preston was right. Women like you might fuck men like me, but they will always marry the better man.” When she started to speak, he shrugged her off. “Not that I give a fuck. After all, that's what I'm after, right? Just some place to stick my cock.”

  “Gregory, stop it.” Tears stung her eyes, and she wasn't certain of their source, but she did know she hated Gregory talking this way. “I never said any of that. And what Preston said—”

  “Was right,” Gregory replied curtly. He looked at her, one eyebrow raised in cynicism. “Be honest, darling; have you had even a single thought of me that didn't involve my cock?”

  Annoyance began to burn Cassandra. “Have you had a single thought of me that didn't involve your cock?” She glared at him. “Your self-righteousness is misplaced, Gregory. Don't stand there and be insulted when someone views you exactly as you represent yourself. You live and breathe the playboy lifestyle, fucking any woman who will hold still long enough. And then your feelings get hurt when a woman doesn't see you as anything more than a man looking for his next fuck? If you want people to see you as something more, then you have to be something more, Gregory!”

  His face tight, Gregory shoved his foot in the stirrup and swung up on Wiley's back. “Easier said than done,” he muttered. “But why should you understand that?” He dug his heels into the animal's ribs, and the horse bolted. And just like that, they were gone.

  Cassandra touched her face and found it wet with tears. Why was she getting so upset over a man like Gregory Stanton? Wasn't it likely that the things she'd said to him were more a result her stress of her upcoming marriage? It had been wrong to take it out on him, even if some of what she had said had been true. But though he had no real cause to feel insulted for being viewed as the playboy he was, she still regretted throwing it in his face. There had been real hurt in his eyes, and, though she didn't understand where it was coming from, it filled her with remorse to think she had caused him pain.

  Chapter Three: Unpleasant Outlook

  Leaving Wiley in Nicholas' capable hands, Gregory didn't linger at the stables. He had no wish to be there when Cassandra returned. Her words were still grinding through him, though deep down he knew she was right. Perhaps that's what pissed him off the most.

  He used the rear entrance to the manor to avoid a possible encounter with his father or Preston and went up to his room. Morning couldn't come soon enough. He just wanted the fuck away from everyone. His lifestyle might have been selfish and irresponsible, but at least everyone involved was aware of the lines of their relationship, what was expected and what wasn't. No room for misunderstandings or unwanted feelings. Simple and to the point. One goal, to fuck. Everyone goes away happy and satisfied. No emotional bullshit. That had always been his favorite aspect of it all.

  But you had to go and fuck up your serenity by taking the same woman to bed twice.

  His mistake. But not one he would be repeating with Cassandra or anyone else. He was done with the woman, once and for all. Let Preston have her. They were truly suited for one another.

  He slammed the bedroom door a little harder than intended but didn't care. When someone knocked not ten minutes later, he half expected it to be Cassandra but found Preston standing on the other side when he jerked open the door.

  “What the fuck do you want?”

  “Have you seen Eleonore?” Preston's tone never failed to resonate superiority when speaking to everyone but their father. But it had a way of magnifying whenever he was addressing Gregory directly.

  “What?” Gregory drawled. “Already losing track of your wife-to-be?”

  “Have you or have you not seen her?”

  Gregory leaned against the door frame. “Yeah,” he smiled dryly. “I have her stashed between my sheets.”

  “Why must you always be a smartass?”

  “Because it annoys you.” Gregory smirked, his eyes dull. He wasn't in the mood to banter with his brother, but he wasn't willing to let Preston glimpse his true state of mind. He rarely allowed him to see any side of him that wasn't a smug smartass. It was his only defense against a man like Preston. “Why did you come looking for her here anyway? I believe you told me to stay away from her. Implied it anyway.”

  “And when have you ever listened?”

  Gregory shrugged. “I can't remember a time.” He stepped back. “Now if you'll excuse me.” He closed the door on Preston without waiting to hear another thing from the man.

  ______________________

  “Where were you?”

  The question was thrust at her the moment she stepped through the front door of the manor. She frowned as Preston stood before her, reminding her of a stern father questioning the whereabouts of his teenage daughter.

  “I . . . took one of the horses out for a ride,” she said, annoyed by his overbearing demeanor. Would she have to give account for every second of her whereabouts when they were married?

  “And Gregory?”

  Her gut tightened; did he somehow know she'd encountered Gregory while on her ride? “I don't understand?” she said. “What about Gregory?”

  “Was he there too?”

  “During my ride?” Cassandra frowned uncertainly.

  “Yes.”

  She shook her head. “No.” She wondered how skilled he was at detecting lies. But nevertheless, nothing had happened, even though Gregory had been there.

  “Well, just remember what I said,” he told her. “Stay away from him.”

  “I heard you the first time,” she said more curtly than intended.

  Preston just stared at her. “Please keep your tone in check, Eleonore,” he said low. “A smart-tongued woman is quite unpleasant. I won't stand for it.”

  Shock caused her jaw to drop just a little. He wouldn't stand for it? Who the hell did he think he was? Her fucking warden? Still, the look in his eyes prevented an outburst. She had a strong, unnerving feeling it wouldn't be wise to truly piss the man off.

  “I apologize.” She heard the words emerge on a submissive tone, along with the urge to vomit. Could she live her life under the hand of a dominant husband? Could he be pushed to violence?

  “It's all right.” His tone softened some, though still possessed an edge. “Just don't let it become a habit.” He approached her and dropped a quick kiss on the corner of her mouth. “Dinner will be in one hour.”

  She nodded silently and waited for him to walk away before climbing the stairs and going to her room. A frustrated huff exploded out of her the moment her door was closed. The nerve of him! Speaking to her like she was chattel.

  Just calm down. He's simply suspicious right now because of the incident in the pool. What do you expect? He surely won't be like this once you're married.

  The anxiety and annoyance remained nonetheless.

  ______________________

  Though he wasn't directly invited to join them for dinner, Gregory made an appearance of his own accord. Abbot
t seemed to be the only one present who was glad to see him, not surprisingly. He took a seat beside the older man, ignoring the hard looks slammed at him from both Preston and his father. Clearly his and Cassandra's indiscretions had been relayed to Gregory’s father as well.

  When Cassandra joined them in the dining room, she looked somewhat startled to see him there. Perhaps I’m expected to eat in my room and away from the proper folk? Gregory thought with sour amusement. The woman's eyes passed over him rather quickly, not taking a moment to really meet his gaze, even briefly. Preston approached her, held out his hand to her, then kissed her cheek. Ah, what a regal gentleman.

  Cassandra's smiled and let him direct her to her seat, but the smile appeared painted on, forced. She could pretend all she wanted, but the man did nothing for her on a sexual level. Gregory couldn't deny that it inflated his ego just a bit, but in truth what difference did it make? She was still marrying the man.

  And you care because . . . ? You said you were through with her, that Preston could have her.

  And he could. Gregory was simply making observations. And one of those observations was the clearly submissive air about the woman while in his brother's presence. Apparently Abbott wasn't oblivious to it either.

  “Eleonore,” Abbott said, “are all right, dear?”

  She raised her eyes and met her father's gaze, carefully avoiding Gregory. “Yes, daddy.” Her painted smile returned. “I'm fine.” A visible tension gripped her when Preston took his place beside her, directly across from Gregory. He shot a quick, almost threatening look at the younger man before turning his attention to Abbott.

  His tone moderately soft, Preston addressed the older man. “I trust you had no problems getting settled in?” He didn't have to speak the words for Gregory to understand he was confirming that Gregory had done his duty in looking after the man.

  “None at all.” Abbott smiled. His seemed to be the only genuine smile going around. He reached over and patted Gregory's arm. “Gregory has been a gracious host.” He winked at Gregory. “And quite fine company.”

  Preston turned dull eyes on Gregory and chuffed low. “Well, it's good to know my brother can act responsibly when the situation calls for it.”

  Fuck you, prick. Gregory flashed him a charming smile.

  Abbott nodded, his smile widening. “Don't be too hard on the boy, Preston.” He squeezed Gregory's arm with affection. “He is full of potential.”

  Preston had that He's full of something look in his eyes. “Well, let’s hope so,” he said. “It would be nice if he would start contributing at some point rather than living his life like a rebellious teenager.”

  Chuckling lightly, Abbott clearly chose to ignore Preston's obvious distaste for his younger brother. “Ah now, I think a bit of a wild side is good for a man.”

  “A bit of one, perhaps,” Preston replied. “But not when it takes control.”

  “Preston,” Nigel spoke up for the first time since taking his place at the head of the table. “Drop the sibling rivalry. And let’s try to have a pleasant meal.”

  Dragging his eyes over Gregory, Preston's lips stretched with a smug smile. “Trust me; there's no rivalry here.” His hand lay across Cassandra's wrist, almost possessively, as if sensing Gregory's interest in the woman reached well beyond the bedroom.

  Chapter Four: Shadows Of The Truth

  Rather than retiring to her room after dinner, Cassandra chose a stroll through the expansive garden, finding an all new beauty in it beneath the moonlight. She couldn't bear to sit in her room and wait for Preston to arrive. He and Nigel and her father had convened to the study to discuss the merger, and she didn't know how long they would be. Her nerves were already wound tight. Just waiting in her room would only make it worse.

  As soon as dinner was over and before dessert, Gregory had excused himself. Cassandra didn't know where he'd gone and didn't care to know. Or so she insisted to herself. Would you be out here, avoiding your bedroom, if it were Gregory who was to meet you there?

  Her inability to answer that question effectively was somewhat disturbing. Try as she might, she couldn't entirely banish her memories of last night. So he's good in bed; that doesn't mean anything. It just means he's a great fuck, not a great man.

  The emptiness from earlier, when she'd overheard her father and Gregory, returned, hollowing out her chest. Why had the prospect of him leaving caused her to feel this way? It made so sense. It wasn't as if she were falling in love with the man. Such a notion was preposterous.

  Yet the mere thought caused a spike in her heart-rate and faint dizziness in her head. Last night, after sex, when he'd touched her in such a light, soothing caress, it had been as if he were exposing another part of himself to her. A part that, perhaps, he hadn't even realized was there.

  Oh god, you are reaching. Why are you trying to make more out of this than it is? Gregory Stanton is nothing more than . . . What? His moment with her father earlier this afternoon played through her mind. She couldn't deny the real emotion in the man's voice, his genuine affection for her father. But just because he likes your dad, that doesn't make him relationship material.

  Relationship material. Why would she even be thinking along those lines? Everything was set in stone: her marriage to Preston, the Stanton-and-Kirkland enterprise merger. At this very moment, they were in there finalizing the details. There was no backing out now. And she couldn't do so anyway. Her father wanted this, and that remained the most important factor.

  When she came around the bend in the path that would bring her to the bench she and her father had sat on that morning, she stopped short, her pulse quickening. Gregory sat on the bench now, elbows resting on his knees as he gazed blankly at the ground. There was an almost forlorn look about him, and she felt her chest squeeze somewhat, a startling ache winding around the perimeter of her heart. She thought about the things she'd said to him earlier, the veiled hurt in his eyes, and she was suddenly overcome with the need to apologize.

  Flexing her hands anxiously, unsure why she was suddenly so nervous—for crying out loud, she'd had sex with the man twice—she approached him slowly. “Gregory?”

  His head snapped up, startled by her sudden presence. For a quick moment, she thought she detected a wet glint to his eyes, but then his face shifted, fell into a bit of shadow. Perhaps it had been a mere reflection of moonlight.

  “I'm beginning to think you planted a tracker on me last night without me knowing.” He chuckled, but it sounded thick, heavy.

  “I'm not following you,” she said quietly.

  “Seems to be an awful lot of accidental encounters we're having.”

  “Perhaps.” She motioned to the bench. “May I sit down?”

  “Suit yourself.” He emitted a short laugh and turned his gaze back to the ground. “Aren't you afraid Preston will catch you cavorting with the enemy?” Though he reached for lightness, the words fell heavy from his lips.

  Cassandra sat on the bench. “You're not the enemy, Gregory. You're his brother.”

  A bitter chuckle rumbled in Gregory's chest. “Oh girl, you've got a lot to learn about this family. The fact that Preston and I are brothers don't mean shit. Trust me, if he could deny me as blood, he would.” He chuffed. “No doubt my father as well.”

  Cassandra wanted to believe the man was just feeling sorry for himself, but his words were steeped in a sincerity she couldn't ignore. He wasn't feeling sorry for himself; he was simply stating facts.

  “Weren't you two...ever close?” she asked softy. “Even as kids?”

  Gregory shook his head slowly. “Preston was the golden boy from day one.” He released a hard sigh. “My father only wanted one son. I wasn't planned or wanted.”

  “I'm sure that isn't true,” Cassandra whispered.

  The man chuckled low. “No need to pity me,” he murmured. “I grew up knowing this little fact about my existence. Neither my father nor Preston let me forget. It's life, and I learned to accept it.” He glanced at h
er and winked. “Don't need sympathy. I'm good.”

  How could one ever accept such a thing? She couldn't imagine having grown up knowing her father never wanted her, viewing her as an unwanted burden. It would have broken her right from the start.

  Whether he meant for it to show or not, she could sense the weight on his shoulders. Maybe he had cause for living his life the way he did. Had he tried to be productive, become an asset to his father's business, only to be rejected as useless and unwanted?

  Are you just guilty because you’ve squandered what they work so hard for?Her words to him from before pressed at her mind. She had presumed to know what he was about when she really didn't. No wonder he had gotten so angry at her.

  “Gregory,” she said quietly. “What I said before while we were out—”

  “It's all right.” He sat up straight but looked forward rather than at her. “You were pretty much dead-on about me. I'm basically just a waste of space.” He cleared his throat and leaned forward again. “And I get it that it's my own fault. I didn't have to let their opinion of me drive me into an irresponsible, selfish lifestyle. I guess it was just easier than picking myself up and making something of my life. This way, my failure as a human being was easily blamed on them.” He swallowed hard and laced his fingers, squeezing tight. “If I had tried to make something useful of my life and failed, I would've had no one but myself to blame. I guess it's just easier not to try and then blame someone else.”

  Cassandra touched his back lightly. He flinched but didn't shrug her off. “You're not a waste of space, Gregory.” A soft smile touched her lips. “My father seems to think you possess quite a bit of potential. And he's a rather excellent judge of character.”

  “If that's true,” Gregory murmured, “why is he making deals with my family?” He looked at her, his face tight. “Why is he pushing you to marry Preston? He can't possibly believe the man will make you happy.”

  Ducking her head, Cassandra sighed. “It's complicated, Gregory.”

  “Forgive me.” he said and stood up abruptly. “For not being bright enough to understand.”