Chapter 12

Casey woke to the beautiful aroma of subtle, flowery perfume. A smile curved her lips and she sighed, stretching under her blankets, enjoying the smoothness of her sheets against bare legs and arms. She usually wore light cotton sleep shorts and a tank top to bed. Not very sexy, but it didn't matter since she slept alone. She enjoyed the comfort and she liked the feel of her fluffy quilt wrapped around her body.

Today was one of those mornings where she preferred to wake up slowly and allow the day to creep in with soothing sluggishness. She wiggled her face against the blanket, enjoying the softness against her cheek. The lovely sweet smell wafted around her, tantalizing her and drifting softly next to her face. Her lashes fluttered open and she forced herself to focus on the thing that had touched her.

It was a petal. Like from a flower. She untangled her arms from the blanket and pushed herself up on an elbow, reaching for it. She picked up the silky rose petal and rubbed it between her fingers. It was an honest to goodness rose petal. Looking around she realized she was surrounded by them. Hundreds of rose petals drifted over her prone, blanket covered body and all across the tall Queen Anne bed. She frowned, trying to register where they had come from.

It wasn't unusual for the maid to come in while she was sleeping to drop off breakfast or laundry. Casey was a terrible sleeper, so when she did finally get to sleep she tended to sleep hard, oblivious to the world around her. But the quiet woman, who rarely said two words to Casey was unlikely to randomly shower her mistress in rose petals unless ordered to. Sitting up with a frown, Casey felt several petals fall from her hair and float to the warm bed. She plucked one that had tangled in the ends of her long, disheveled hair. She wondered what colour they were. Red?

As she started to climb from the bed a vase filled with what had to be at least three dozen roses caught her attention. It was perched on her vanity table. Her mouth fell open in surprise. Somehow the gorgeous arrangement was even more of a shock than waking up in a pile of rose petals. In the ten years that she'd been married to Ignacio, he'd never once bought flowers for her. He'd never even bought her a birthday present. She doubted he knew her birthday had just passed a few weeks ago.

So, the odds that this beautiful gift came from her husband were extremely small. And there was only one other man who was pursuing her with any kind of dedication. Her heart tripped in anticipation as she approached her makeup table and reached for the small, white envelope nestled carefully within the perfect, delicate blooms. She let her fingertips linger against the velvety tips, enjoying the feel of them against her skin; absorbing the quiet loveliness of such a gift. Pretending for just a moment that she was free to accept such extravagance without all the baggage that came between them.

She pulled her hand away and opened the envelope, tugging the plain white card out. It said:

Pink is your colour.

8:00pm tonight,

Room 1228, Plaza condos.

Reyes

She looked toward the bed and then back at the vase. The flowers were pink. He remembered that she couldn't see colours and he wanted her to know what colour he chose, that he didn't choose red for her. She let a tiny smile linger on her lips for a moment, allowed the rush of emotion in as she felt what it was like to have a man pay real attention to her. Lavish a gift upon her even though he wouldn't be there to see her reaction or receive a thank you.

Then reality intruded. She couldn't allow this to continue; whatever this was. She'd had enough. Ignacio could just work this deal alone. She wasn't going to allow her emotions to get involved any more than they already were and then get crushed when the big boys were done playing with her. For once she wanted to call the shots, and she was calling this one.

She didn't bother changing. She walked swiftly into her washroom and pulled her robe over her sleep outfit, washed her face and brushed her teeth. Then she strode into the hall where Alonzo stood waiting for her to show her face and tell him her plan for her day. She crossed her arms over her chest and lifted her chin.

"I want to see him, now," she informed him, using the best impression of "snotty voice" she could come up with, a useful by-product of her hated Tuesday lunches.

Alonzo flexed his shoulders until they cracked. "You don't have an appointment."

Casey huffed out a breath and snarled, "I don't give a shit. He's going to see me on my time for once." She walked past him down the hall, her bare feet slapping against the marble. His eyes widened as he finally looked at her and took in her lack of proper attire. Casey rarely left her bedroom unless she was fully clothed or going to the pool. She glared over her shoulder when Alonzo fell into step behind her. "Unless you plan on touching me, you won't be stopping me, Alonzo."

Alonzo didn't touch her, but he dogged her every step through the mansion toward the foyer. She stormed toward Ignacio's office, never losing momentum, despite the terrified beating of her heart begging her to reconsider, to remember his temper and the years of hard lessons on obedience and her place within his household. She was too angry to listen to her own common sense. She wanted answers.

The doorknob to Ignacio's office opened easily under her hand, but she had to shove hard to get the heavy panel to open under her thin frame. It swung wide and she stumbled a little in the doorway, her robe gaping to reveal her long, bare legs. Ignacio looked up from behind his desk. Both he and his second-in-command, Diego, reached for their guns, but seeing a disheveled Casey, they subsided.

After a brief moment of observation, taking in her stubborn stance, Ignacio waved Diego from the room with an annoyed, "Give me ten minutes."

Casey stepped quickly out of Diego's way as he approached the door, his cold, malevolent eyes crawling over her body. She quickly twitched the robe back into place and tugged the belt tighter. She despised Ignacio's second-in-command even more than she hated her own husband. He was the one who delivered her husband's punishments over the years when Ignacio was too weak-stomached or too busy to follow through. She knew if she was ever truly left in Diego's care she wouldn't last long. There was something about the man that took sadistic to a new level. And the way he looked at her made it clear he would love to get his hands on her.

"What do you want, Casey?" Ignacio demanded the moment the door closed behind Diego. "You know better than to burst in here. I don't have time for you this morning."

She shivered at the menacing tone of voice Ignacio was treating her to. He was usually cold and distant, but this spelled danger. She forced herself to remember her reason for seeking him out. She needed to remember her outrage. "I'm done playing nice with the Bolivian," she announced bravely, approaching his desk. "Allowing him to take me to your club was one thing; tacky, but okay, fine. The flowers, though, they're too much. You allowed another man to send me flowers in our home. The place where we live together. Have you no shame, Ignacio?"

His eyes suddenly took on a gleam that she didn't like. It was greed combined with something else. Something awful and disgusting… something she couldn't quite place. "You don't like his attentions, my dear?" he drawled, watching her carefully.

She felt her face flush and she avoided his eyes. "I don't understand why you're allowing him to do this to me. In a decade of marriage, you haven't allowed another man to lay a hand on me except for punishment, but now, suddenly this man is allowed to do whatever he wants?" She wrapped her arms protectively around her middle and forced herself to meet his eyes. "Why are you doing this, Ignacio? What do you hope to gain by handing me to this man on a silver platter?"

He snorted and slapped his hands on his desk, pushing himself back. He stood and slowly circled the desk, his eyes sweeping her tall, lithe form. "You're a beautiful woman, figure it out. You belong to me, Casey. You always have and for as long as you live, you always will. You float around this house like a useless piece of nothing. I ask you for one little thing? Just to be nice to this guy, my business partner… and that's a problem for you?"

She turned to look at him and lifted her chin, the tangle of her pale hair swaying with the movement. "Yes, it is a problem for me," she said defiantly. "I don't want to see him again."

The strike came so quickly she didn't have time to so much as flinch. He slapped her on the side of the face, then before she could collapse, grabbed a fistful of hair and slammed her forward into his desk. She cried out as her hip smacked hard into the wood and then she was forced to sprawl face down across his paperwork. She bit her lip to stop further shrieks from erupting, knowing the punishment would be worse if she made a fuss. She tasted blood where she bit down too hard.

He leaned across her back, crushing her further against the side of his unyielding desk, bruising her hip even more. His hot, horrible breath slid over her bare shoulder where her robe had slipped. Involuntary tears of pain glittered in eyes that stared straight ahead, frozen on his big, fancy leather chair.

Unlike years past when he'd struck her in anger, his voice was surprisingly calm as he spoke. Now he seemed intent on hurting her with dispassionate malevolence, simply to get his point across. "You will do as I say tell you, Casey. Or I have no more use for you. Got me?"

Casey nodded and blinked rapidly, tears spilling over her cheeks and dripping onto the papers on his desk. Absently she hoped they were ruining something important. Maybe whatever business deal he was trying to seal with the Bolivian. Ignacio pulled her abruptly to her feet and steadied her when her legs would have given way. She was the exact same height as him in bare feet, taller in heels, which of course annoyed him. Fleetingly it occurred to her that Reyes wouldn't care about something stupid like that. He was enough of a man to feel pride in the presence of a striking woman, whether she was taller than him or not.

Ignacio smoothed his hands down her arms, wrapped his thick fingers around the thin columns and drew her closer, his thumbs rubbing absently against her chilled skin. She stood stiffly, holding herself as far back as she could, making sure any expression of loathing was wiped clean from her face. Her ear was still ringing and her cheek was on fire from the vicious blow she'd taken.

"You will dress up, you will look beautiful and you will go to his room at the Plaza at 8:00 tonight. You'll do whatever he wants to do with you and you won't disappoint me, will you Casey, my girl?" he asked, his voice cajoling. They both knew he wasn't asking her a real question, but stating a fact. He'd only given her a small taste of what he was really capable of. Why had she so stupidly forgotten how little power she had under Ignacio's regime?

"Of course, Ignacio," she murmured through stiff lips.

He led her to the door and opening it, handed her off to Alonzo, who was silently ignoring whatever Diego was saying to him. The two men had never gotten along.

"Make sure she's presentable for tonight," Ignacio said before turning his back on Casey and her bodyguard, dismissing them.