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It was the most at ease Cassandra had felt in days, and now that she had her friends back in her life, she relayed the latest developments.
“Your dad brought the evil stepmum to see you? That’s dreadful.” Cherie sympathised, as Timothy and Ryan paired off to play a game of pool. Cherie watched them go, and then her big brown eyes drifted from the pool table, to the dark figure standing on the other side of the room. Despite the distance, he was watchful. His eyes had been trained on Cass since they’d arrived.
“What about graduation? Will you still be able to make it?”
She looked disconcerted. “I’d forgotten all about it. It’s not for a fortnight though, is it?” She frowned. “Ben was going to take me. That doesn’t matter. This should all be over by then.” It didn’t make her feel happy, to admit as much.
“What about Ben? Are you saying he knew, all along?” Cherie sounded appalled, but Cassandra’s nod was firm.
“You dated for months. You were practically inseparable. Why would he do it?”
Cass took a sip on the beer Ryan had bought for her. “Revenge.”
“That’s ridiculous. I saw the two of you together. He loves you.”
“No!” Cassandra denied hotly. “He doesn’t, believe me. He can’t stand me.” She took a shaky breath and then laid it all out for her friend. “He’s Alyssia’s cousin. Neither of them has any family left. They’re very close. Suffice it to say, she likes me even less than I like her.” She sipped her beer again. “Plus, he thinks I stole from her.” Her voice cracked. “I think he wanted to hurt me. Out of revenge.”
Cherie’s pretty face drained of colour. “But... that’s so cruel! I can’t believe it.”
“You will. Benedict Savarin is an entirely different kettle of fish to the Ben you knew,” she promised darkly. “Speak of the devil,” She said, as, out of the corner of her eye she became aware of his progress towards them.
Cherie pulled herself to stand. At a not very impressive five foot three inches, with a figure so slight she looked like the wind might carry her off, she nonetheless braced herself to protect her friend.
“Cherie,” Benedict nodded towards the slight brunette, a smile playing about his lips at her obvious guard-dog demeanour. He turned his attention to Cassandra. “It’s time to go.”
The look she gave him was pure mutiny, and she threw back the last of her beer. He frowned. “Definitely time to go.”
“Back to my gilded cage,” She said with a melodramatic sigh. She hugged Cherie goodbye. “I’ll see you soon.”
“Keep in touch. Remember, you’ve always got a room with me. Anytime.” She threw another dagger laced glare at the dark, dominating European who seemed intent on ruining Cass’s life.
As Cassandra made her way unsteadily through the crowd, Cherie grabbed hold of Ben’s arm. “Listen here, Benedict Savarin,” She snarled, “That girl is one in a million. She doesn’t deserve to be treated as you’re treating her. If the only reason you’re being such a bastard is because you think she’s guilty of some years-old theft, think again. She didn’t do it.”
He regarded her blankly, but his heart rate had doubled. “Did she say as much to you?”
“She doesn’t have to. I know her. I know her in here.” She pushed her fingers towards her heart. “I know she isn’t capable of it.” She leaned closer to be sure he could hear her over the din of the music. “Ask her how we met. Cass and me. Just ask her.”
“Cassandra has had many opportunities to deny stealing my cousin’s jewellery. Not only has she never done so, she has admitted the crime.” His mouth was set in a grim line of determination. “She isn’t the girl you think you know, Cherie. You’re too smart to think otherwise.”
Cherie’s smile was whimsical. “And you’re too dumb to understand anything, if you believe that. Cass couldn’t steal honey from a bee. You should have more faith in your judgement.”
He could see his charge bobbling a little unevenly, and a man that looked like he worked out eighteen hours a day was offering her an enormous arm to help her to the door. Benedict had no doubt what else the beefcake would like to help her with. He gave Cherie a polite smile as he turned to make his way towards Cass.
“I’ll take it from here,” he said firmly, physically removing the beefcake’s hand from Cassandra’s arm.
“You know this fella?” He twanged in response, practically licking his lips at the sight of the very beautiful and intoxicated blonde. Something like jealousy, and animalistic rage, burned through Benedict.
“He’s keeping me prisoner against my will,” Cass sighed dramatically, her breasts heaving with the action. “He’s accused me of theft, and he’s making me pay him back with my body.”
Benedict compressed his lips. “Now is not the time to joke around,” he warned.
“Who’s joking?” She shot him a look that was deadly serious. But the anger emblazoned on his stony features penetrated even her foggy brain. She turned back to her would-be rescuer. “I’m okay,” she reassured him. “I know him. Thanks anyway.”
Benedict had parked his Aston Martin around the corner and they walked there in silence. When he would have helped her into her seat, she withered him with her eyes. “I am fine.”
His frown deepened. He watched her teeter and wobble as she eased herself into the seat, then fumble with the seat belt. Finally, with a heavy sigh, he leaned down and reached across, strapping the belt in.
Cassandra’s breath caught in her throat as their bodies touched. She bit down on her lips to hold her breath and squeezed her eyes shut. When she sneaked them open a crack, he was watching her. His dark face, poised only a centimetre or so from hers. She shuttered her lashes over her eyes.
