Silk on the Skin: A Loveswept Classic Romance Read Free

out a checkup was definitely overdue.

Two

 
    “You’re limping,” Dallas commented as he ushered her into the Lobster House Restaurant the next day.
    “I … slipped on the stairs,” Cass said. The last thing she needed was to look like an idiot who hadn’t the sense to have her stairs inspected for rot, she thought. The steps were being repaired right now. According to the carpenter, the wood had had a stress seam in it and had cracked, allowing the continual sea dampness to attack the unprotected wood. She was grateful the injuries had only been a deep scrape and two splinters, which had left her weak and shaken after she’d removed them.
    He gave her that assessing look she had quickly come to recognize. The muscles in her thighs tightened in reaction. Lord, he looked sexy in casual slacks and a brilliant-blue shirt. Realizing her thoughts were dangerous, she forced a smileto her lips and added, “I probably pulled the muscle a little.”
    He nodded. “I’ve got a trick knee from my high-school-football days, and it sometimes goes out on me.” He grimaced. “Hell, I only have to look at it, and the damn thing will decide to act up.”
    High-school football, Cass mused as he turned to signal the hostess. He had probably been the quarterback, and she imagined cheerleaders falling all over him in girlish glee. He must have loved it.
    She hid a smile of amusement as she watched him charm the hostess into giving them a table immediately. The main dining room was jammed.
    “We’ll be out on the deck,” he said, taking her elbow and guiding her through the crowded room to the outside eating area, along a picturesque canal.
    “Did you slip her a tip?” she murmured over the din of glasses, silverware, and voices.
    “For shame. Sheer genius wins out every time,” he replied in a low voice.
    Cass chuckled. “I never would have guessed you had it in you.”
    He grinned at her, refusing to be baited. She refused to be rattled. And that wouldn’t be easy, she thought. She was all too aware of his nearness … and the knuckles of his hand barely touching the side of her breast through her pink linen jump suit. She forced herself not to think of it.
    After they were seated at one of the umbrella tables, Cass stared out at the boats drifting by the restaurant. The tension in her body was growing, and she hoped the peaceful scene would dispel it.
    “How long have you lived here?” he asked.
    She forced her gaze to his hard features. “Since I got out of college. I’ve always loved the shore, so this is where I settled and opened WinterLand. It made no sense to major in marketing and not use it. I like working for myself.”
    He smiled at her blatant hint. “I like fixing things. Sort of goes with the business-administration degree. Unfortunately, corporations tend to locate in cities.”
    She nodded. “There’s a sense of community here. Belonging.”
    “You like that?”
    “Yes,” she said, not bothering to elaborate. Explaining her crazy childhood was like explaining the national budget. Damn near impossible.
    He turned toward the canal for a moment, then back. He smiled, and she realized he was making an effort to be an easy, relaxed companion. He was probably doing it to get her off her guard, and it was working. She forced herself to stay sharp.
    Once their meal had been served, Dallas said, “I thought you never ate lunch.”
    “I never eat lunch that I have to pay for,” Cass said quickly, remembering her lame excuse to avoid this meal. What the heck, she thought as the beloved aroma of shellfish made her salivate. She dug her fork into her deviled crab cakes.
    “Okay, then it looks like I talk,” he said, after eating one of the clams from his steamer platter.
    He gave her a very innocent smile. She braced herself for whatever bomb he would drop.
    “In 1296, the
Clericis laicos
forbade any ruler,under pain of excommunication, to levy taxes on Church property without permission of the Holy