She wondered if all visitors to the house were subjected to this kind of inquisition or whether she was just lucky. "Because smart women don't go alone to the house of a man they barely know."
"You don't trust Scott?"
"Erin doesn't know Scott well enough to know whether she can trust him."
He frowned. "Don't you think you're being a little over-suspicious?"
Cassie couldn't suppress a smile at the protected world he clearly lived in. "Well, I don't suppose you've ever been in the position of being afraid of a woman forcing herself on you." She looked over his tall form appraisingly from head to toe.
His eyes showed a flash of amusement. "You might be surprised," he said with a certain self-deprecating humor. "But you don't have to worry about Scott."
"I'm glad to hear that." Not that she was willing to take his word on it. "Erin's last boyfriend put her in the hospital. That's why she's here for the summer. He kept violating the restraining order."
"I'm sorry." It could have been perfunctory, but it sounded like he meant it. "Have you known Erin long?"
"Since freshman year of college."
"An old friend, then."
"Yes." She looked out at the water again. She couldn't pick out Scott's sailboat anymore from the others crossing the Sound. "She's pretty fragile right now."
"Scott isn't going to hurt her." His quiet words
surprised her. She hadn't expected him to understand her concern.
"I hope not. Erin trusts people too easily." But that was starting to change.
He didn't seem to feel the need to respond, making Cassie remember who she was talking to. This wasn't another scientist; this was Calder Westing, who she couldn't begin to understand. Once again she had decided he was cold and haughty, only to have a thoughtful man with quiet wit emerge. Of course, she knew from last time that the aloof Calder was only a heartbeat away, ready to put her back in her place. She wasn't going to be drawn in this time.
Besides, she was crazy if she thought Calder Westing was someone she could ever be friends with. She shouldn't be talking to him this way. "It looks like it might rain soon. If you'll excuse me, I think I'm going to take a swim while the sun's still out."
He gave her a quick look but said nothing, so she walked down to the pier. When she reached the end, she stripped off her clothes, revealing a modest one-piece bathing suit.
Calder watched from the shadows of the porch, taking in the curves of her body as she neatly folded her clothes and set them on the dock. There was something about Cassie Boulton that made him want to know what was underneath her no-nonsense exterior and quick wit—not to mention what was underneath her swimsuit. His eyes remained fixed on her as she dove efficiently into the water.
No, all in all he was finding her far too interesting, and that wouldn't do. Deliberately, he forced himself to
look away from where she was frolicking in the water and went back to his tidy study.
"Mind if I join you?" Rob stood across the cafeteria table from Cassie, tray in hand.
Cassie's relaxed mood evaporated. She had managed to avoid conversations with Rob so far by staying out of Jim's lab, but it looked like her luck had run out. "If you want to."
"Thanks." Rob sat down and placed his tray on the table. "I hear you're collaborating with Jim on a paper."
"That's right." Cassie took a bite of her sandwich. The faster she finished it, the sooner she could escape.
"Just like old times." He opened the ketchup bottle and shook it, but nothing came out. He reached for a new one on the next table. "It's good to see you, Cassie."
"That's Saint Cassie to you." Did he think she would forget the past that quickly?
He winced. "You weren't meant to hear that."
"Then you shouldn't have said it so often." The dry sandwich seemed to stick in her throat. She took a swallow of water.
"You're right. I was blaming you for something that was my own fault. If it's any consolation, nobody believed me."
"Some of them did. It doesn't matter anymore." It had mattered a lot then. It made her finish her PhD as quickly as possible so she could get away.
"What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. About everything."
There was a time when she would have given anything to hear those words from him, but that was long ago. "What do you want from me? Forgiveness? Okay, you're forgiven. You can go home with a clear conscience."
He had the gall to look wounded. "You and I were friends once. I'd like to be friends again."
He had told her he loved her once, too, not long before dumping her. He had no idea what she had sacrificed for his sake. "Why? I haven't changed. I'm still driven about my work and still as boring as I was then."
"It wasn't like that. I didn't like coming second to work, but I was proud you were my girlfriend. You were the golden girl. I just wanted more."
"More time? I spent every free minute I had with you." She regretted letting him draw her into the discussion. It only brought back the pain she had worked hard to put behind her.
"Not more time—more of you. We were together for a year and a half, and you never told me a thing about your family. I don't even know where you grew up. I took you home for Christmas. You met all my family, all my friends. You knew everything about me."
His pleading look was so familiar, even after all these years. Cassie turned her face away. It hadn't been completely his fault. She had been living a lie, and because of that, he never understood her. But she'd been right to keep it a secret. If he'd known the truth, people would have been calling her worse things than Saint Cassie.
Softening toward Rob was dangerous. "My parents ran away with the circus, and I was raised by gypsies in deepest, darkest Africa. Happy now?"
He looked down at his half-eaten hamburger as if it held some answer for him. Finally, he raised his eyes again. "I guess the answer on being friends is no."
"I guess it is."
He drained his soda and placed the empty cup on his tray. "I never realized our break-up affected you like this. It didn't seem to bother you much then."
"You knew how I felt, even if I put a good face on it."
He shook his head. "You were always so strong, so confident. Everybody liked you. I thought you bounced right back."
"I'm so strong. Right." She pushed her tray away. Loving him had only made her vulnerable. "I'm leaving now. Don't follow me."
Cassie dumped the remains of her lunch into the trashcan. Hurrying out of the building, she set off at a swift pace, heading the long way into town, around Eel Pond. She would be less likely to run into anyone she knew that way. She had dreamed for so long of Rob begging her to come back to him, and it turned out he never even knew how much he hurt her.
Rob's words were still with her when she reached the far end of Woods Hole.
She couldn't face the lab yet, especially the possibility of seeing him there. She decided to stop at Harbor Books, a small bookstore near the ferry dock. It was one of her favorite destinations. The proprietor greeted her by name when she walked in.
"Any recommendations today, Ed?" She tilted her head toward the bookshelves. This was a good idea. It reminded her she had a full and complete life without Rob.
"There are a couple of new arrivals that might interest you." Leading her to a table in the middle of the store, he handed her an attractively designed trade paperback. "This is a strong first novel. Excellent characterizations, beautiful settings. But you might not like the ending. It's pretty painful."
The chain of bells at the front door tinkled. Ed turned to greet the new customer.
Cassie, perusing the cover of the book, recognized Calder's deep voice. Looking up, she acknowledged him with a nod of her head. He made no move to greet her, and she turned back to Ed as she set the book on table. "You know me too well, Ed. I like my coffee with cream and my literature with optimism." There were enough unhappy endings in real life.
"Fair enough. Have you read this one?"
r />
"No, although I've heard of the author. She's supposed to be very good. Have you read it yourself?"
"Not yet, but it's had excellent reviews."
She could sense Calder moving behind her, inspecting the books on the shelves. Annoyed with herself for being aware of him when he didn't have the common courtesy to say hello, she forced her attention back to the conversation. "I'll give it a try."
"Tell me what you think of it when you're done. Oh, and here's one other you might like." He pointed to a hardcover book. "I read this one as soon as it came in. It's quite compelling."
Seeing the name of one of her favorite authors, Cassie picked it up, though the price of hardcovers went beyond her reading budget. "Oh, yes, I loved Embedded in Amber. I didn't know he had another one out."
"Yes, and this one's at least as good. I think you'd enjoy it."
Suddenly uncomfortable, she looked up to see Calder's eyes fixed on her in an unreadable look. She stared back at him challengingly, refusing to let him unnerve her. He didn't seem to be interested in the books. Was he bored with life in Woods Hole and killing time? Returning her gaze to the book, she ran her finger along the cover. Blazoned in dark blue letters across a picture of open sky was The Edge of Tomorrow by Stephen R. West.
Regretfully, she returned it to its place. "I'm going to have to wait for that one to come out in paperback. With a book habit like mine, I can't afford to indulge in hardcovers. I'll just take the other one today."
As Ed rang up the sale on the old-fashioned cash register, Cassie wondered what Calder was thinking. No doubt he had never thought twice about the price of anything in his life. Well, she was just one of the little people, and she had nothing to prove to him or anyone else.
She paid for her purchase, said good-bye to Ed, and then turned back to Calder. He held a book in his hand now but was still looking at her with disturbing intensity. She smiled with apparent sweetness at him and said cheekily, "Lovely chatting with you, Calder. We'll have to do this again some time." She made a quick exit, leaving the bells on the door jingling behind her.
Why did she let Calder disconcert her so much? He might be a fine-looking specimen, but he was a first-class snob with the social skills of a gnat. Why should she care what he thought of her? Perhaps it was because of Rob. Their conversation hadn't predisposed her to want male company, especially the great Calder Westing.
She stopped at her usual spot on the bridge to look over the harbor and the fleet of small boats anchored there. The view never failed to bring her a sense of peace, something she needed today. She looked to see if the MBL boats were in the harbor, but they were still at sea for the day. Unexpectedly, the intensity of dark eyes staring at her came to her mind, and she shivered. What was wrong with her? She knew better than to look twice at a man like Calder. Attractive men were offlimits. She never wanted to go through what she had with Rob again.
She shook her head, dismissing Calder from her mind. Chances were she'd never see him again anyway.
Chapter 3
CASSIE HAD DREAMED ABOUT Ryan again, about the day they went into Philadelphia to buy new, safer clothes for him to wear. In reality it had been a wonderful day, spent getting to know him again after all those years apart, but in the dream, the street outside the store was filled with men with knives. She tried to stop Ryan from leaving, but he said, You know I have to, Cass. She awoke in terror as the first knives struck.
The edgy feeling of it stayed with her all day, making her jump at unexpected noises. It was starting to fade by late afternoon, when Scott knocked tentatively on the lab door. Cassie managed a warm greeting, even when she noticed Calder following him.
Scott went straight to the microscope bench where Erin was working. "I tried calling you at home to see if you'd like to have dinner with me, but nobody answered, so I decided to walk over to see if you were here."
"I'd love to, Scott, but we're running some gels tonight, and I need to be here to watch them." Erin's disappointment was obvious.
Cassie wasn't going to pressure Erin into anything. "Nonsense. Run along and have fun. I can keep an eye on the gels, and counting bacteria can wait until tomorrow."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. There isn't much to do here until the gels are done." Cassie wondered how much of a date it was going to be with Calder tagging along. Perhaps that was his intention. He had never given any indication of approving of the romance between Erin and Scott.
"Well, if you're sure… then I'd be delighted to join you, Scott, thank you." Erin dropped a clear cover over the microscope.
Scott looked pleased. Cassie could practically feel the electricity between the two of them. Well, no one deserved happiness more than Erin, and it looked like Scott's interest in her was genuine. She hoped Calder's presence didn't put too much of a damper on the occasion.
To her surprise, he remained behind when Scott and Erin made their exit. She looked at him questioningly.
He held out a book. "I wondered if you might want to borrow this. I heard what you said about it in the bookshop."
She glanced down to see a copy of the hardcover she had admired. Did it make him uncomfortable when she said she couldn't afford it? She doubted people in his social sphere made a habit of loaning out their possessions, but his intention seemed genuine. "Have you read it already?"
"Yes." One corner of his mouth quirked up, giving a slightly rakish look to his handsome features.
So he was back to monosyllables. "Well, thank you, then." She sounded a bit dubious even to herself. "I'd love to borrow it. I'll get it back to you as soon as I've finished it." She set the book down on the counter, expecting him to say an abrupt good-bye now that the transaction was complete.
Instead he stood there looking at her in an indecipherable manner. Was he so bored as to consider her company a distraction? Sighing inwardly, Cassie invited him to sit down for a few minutes. After all, he had been kind about the book, and she could stand a little distraction herself.
"Perhaps I could help you with something, since Scott stole your assistant. If there's anything you can do with untrained labor, that is," he said, with more humor than she would have given him credit for.
She revised her estimate of his situation to one of truly desperate boredom. Did he know anyone at all on the Cape apart from Scott? She forced herself to laugh. "That's a very generous offer, but you have no idea how dull it is to watch gels. Apart from that, I'll just be doing some preliminary work to set up for the next batch. But thank you."
He didn't reply right away, but continued to look at her with his piercing gaze. Uncomfortably aware of him, Cassie picked up the book. She opened it to the flyleaf and saw a printed bookplate beneath the cover. She'd never seen a real bookplate belonging to a live person before. She traced the words "Ex Libris S. Calder Westing III" with her eyes. "What does the 'S' stand for?"
His face shuttered slightly. "Stephen."
She smiled at him. "Stephen—I like that. It's a little less… stuffy, or patrician, somehow. Does anyone call you that?"
"Nobody I know. If you like it better, you're welcome to use it."
"Stephen." She rolled the name around in her mouth for a moment, wondering why he had made the offer. He was being unusually enigmatic tonight. "All right." She would have to be careful. He could be much more approachable as Stephen than as Calder, and she didn't intend to let him close. She was already curious about what lay behind his facade, and that way lay danger. He was a Westing, and she was nobody. He would never have nightmares about knives in the street.
"My grandfather was Stephen. They called me Calder to avoid confusion."
"The name skipped a generation, then?" She realized she was being an idiot. Like everyone else, she knew his father's name perfectly well.
"No. His eldest son, my uncle, was Stephen Calder as well. You've probably never heard of him. The story is that he died in Korea during the war."
She looked at him sharply. "I'm not sure w
hat you mean by 'the story.' I probably know less about your family than you think. Nothing personal, but it's just not the kind of thing I follow. I care more about a politician's positions than his relations. The lives of the rich and famous don't interest me."
He ran his finger along the edge of the lab bench. "You wouldn't know this bit even if you read every word ever written about my family."
Cassie was growing more and more puzzled by his behavior. "Well, I suppose every family has its secrets." Not that the Westings could ever have the kind of secrets her family did.
"He was in the Korean War, and was badly shellshocked—what we'd call severe post-traumatic stress disorder now. He was shipped home pretty much non-functional." Calder's voice became darkly sardonic. "That wasn't acceptable in the heir to the Westing fortune, especially as my other uncle was just beginning to succeed in politics. So he was secretly put into 'retirement.' When it became clear that he wasn't going to get better, they announced he had been killed in the war, quietly disinherited him, and made sure he was taken care of by people who would never breathe a word of it. It was much more acceptable to have a brother who died a heroic death than one who panicked any time he was in a room with more than two people in it."