The Bride's Choice Page 9

  As she talked, he studied her, wishing the thick braid of hair was undone. Her long legs looked silky smooth. Would it be so terrible to become ensnared by Juliana? his traitor- ous mind asked.

  He didn’t hear a word she was saying as he silently swore. Only hours into the marriage and she was charming him into all kinds of dangerous thoughts. If he wanted his bachelor life to return intact in twelve months, he should remember that his new bride was off-limits. Deadly to his solitary life.

  Conversation changed to his canoeing, until she went in- side to get a glass of water, glanced at the clock and re- ceived a mild shock. “It’s after three in the morning,” she said, stepping to the door.

  He stood and entered the kitchen, locking the back door and switching off lights, leaving a tiny light burning over the sink. As he crossed the room to Juliana, her pulse jumped at the steady look he was giving her. His hands held her up- per arms lightly while he studied her. “This is a damn poor wedding night.”

  “But the only kind we can have, under the circum- stances.”

  He reached behind her head to catch her long braid and pull it over her shoulder. “You have to take this down any- way to sleep,” he said as he began to unfasten her hair. “Three hundred and sixty-five days we’ll be together. Now only three hundred and sixty-four. That’s not so long.”

  “No, it’s not,” she answered, trying to keep her voice as casual as before, but now he stood toe-to-toe with her while he carefully unplaited her hair, pulling strands slightly, each faint tug radiating through her with sensual tingles that ran down to her toes. His thick lashes were long, sooty against his tanned cheeks. He was handsome, charming when he wanted to be, determined to do what he wanted in life. And he was unpredictable.

  She was still amazed he had been willing to marry—even in a false union—to get the money. And she was amazed at what he was doing now. She looked up to find him watch- ing her, desire unmistakable in his eyes.

  Her heart thudded while he combed free her hair with his fingers.

  “I thought we were barely going to see each other,” she said, the words coming out in a rasp. Too much of the day and night he had touched her, casually, light contacts that were kindling a fiery awareness of him and awakening some long-dormant feelings in her. And at this point in time, they were feelings she didn’t want to come to life.

  “Once we get into our routines, we won’t see each other often, but this is a special night. You’re being cheated roy- ally.”

  “No, I’m not. Not anymore than you are. We’re both getting what we want, so this is still a special night.”

  “Money isn’t the most important thing in life,” he said quietly, his gaze steadfast on hers, his hands shifting to rest on her hips.

  Surprised he would make such a statement since the in- heritance seemed the most valued thing in his life, she gazed back at him while her pulse drummed. “I didn’t think you wanted to make this a real marriage.”

  “I don’t,” he stated flatly and something inside her twisted with a dull ache, although she had never doubted his feelings about the marriage for a moment.

  “But this is your wedding night. When was there ever a bride out playing ball with kids on her wedding night? Not in the history of the world, I’d bet.” He tilted up her chin and she saw his intent in his gaze. “I like your hair down and without pins.”

  “Cal—”

  “Shh,” he whispered, leaning down, his finger still be- neath her chin to hold her face up to his.

  His mouth brushed hers and then settled, opening hers. His kiss was not tentative, seeking, as his kisses before had been. His tongue delved into her mouth with forceful insis- tence, making her blood roar in her ears. She should push him away because she was certain he was only entertaining himself, whiling away the early hours in this year they would spend together, yet the kiss was magical. It was tempting, enticing her to respond, a hint of passion from an unpre- dictable, sensual man.

  She slipped her hands up, touching his shoulders with hesitancy while his arm went around her waist and drew her closer. Her thoughts spun away momentarily and she rel- ished being kissed and held. His kisses were spectacular, and she knew the way she felt about them had nothing to do with this being the first time in so long that she had been held and kissed. Cal’s kisses would have been marvelous if she had received them the day after her first date with Barry. Her heart pounded and she pushed back to look at him, curi- osity running rampant.

  “If you want to walk away at the end of the year or avoid emotional entanglement, you’re playing with fire,” she told him.

  “Not fire, dynamite,” he answered in a husky voice that was like a caress over her taut nerves. “You’re a lethal threat to my bachelor life. At the end of this year, I do intend to walk away without emotional entanglement. I told you I’m not a marrying man.”

  “First, you’re married now. Second, you’re risking your emotions anytime we kiss. I’m not the only one at risk here.”

  “So you keep telling me.” He stared at her in silence, and she wondered what he was thinking and if he was debating with himself.

  She stepped back. “We should go to bed.”

  The moment the words were out, she knew she had made a poor choice. Something flickered and darkened in his eyes. She waved her hand. “I mean, we should say good-night to each other.” Her words tumbled out in a rush. “Goodbye for now is what I meant.”

  He nodded, and her relief mingled with her disappoint- ment. He stepped away from her and they walked through the quiet house to the foot of the stairs, where he turned her to face him. “You were a beautiful bride. After this year, you’ll be able to afford help. You can date and you’ll find the right person to share your life with.”

  “Is that right?”

  She saw a flash of his white teeth, and with a rueful shake of his head he rubbed the back of his neck.

  “I’m sure you’ll be able to get out and date and forget about the year of your life you lost,” she said lightly, an- noyed with him. “If you don’t succeed in seducing your wife-in-name-only to entertain yourself during the long months. But remember, when you touch, contact is made between two people, not just one. Love is binding.”

  “I’ll remember,” he said quietly, and she felt caught in another one of his staring contests, a struggle of wills and silent promises. He reached out suddenly, his arm banding her waist and he pulled her up hard against him, bending his head to take a long, forceful kiss that made her feel on fire with need.

  Cal tightened his arms around her, relishing her softness pressed against him, wanting to kiss her until she was moaning and clinging to him, wanting to demolish the re- serve she had, because he suspected she was capable of great passion. Any woman who could throw herself so fully into a game of ball with a bunch of young kids had a zest for life. He was alternately caught between wanting to keep his dis- tance and wanting her. And he felt sorry for her having to settle for a loveless wedding and a celibate wedding night. She was desirable—why hadn’t she dated? Three boys wouldn’t stop a lot of people.

  Forgetting his questions, he leaned over her, holding her tightly against his body while he kissed her hard. He knew he was in the danger zone, but a few kisses were too tempt- ing to resist.

  His left arm tightened and his right hand drifted around her middle, down over her hip and then up to her breast. Her softness had the opposite effect on him. He was rockhard with wanting her. He cupped her breast, feeling the soft contours, the taut peak that indicated her response.

  As he stroked and held her, Juliana trembled and moaned. Going against what her body craved, she opened her eyes and pushed him away. “No. You may not care, but I do. I don’t want to risk my heart, and that could easily happen if I let you make love to me.” With a long, smol- dering look, he dropped his hands to his sides.

  They walked up the stairs, and he followed her to her room where she paused at the door to look at him with arched eyebrows. “Your room
is down the hall.”

  “Just walking you home,” he answered lightly and leaned down to brush her lips with his. He turned and she watched him go down the hall. At the door to his bedroom, he paused to look at her.

  Her pulse jumped simply from the eye contact. She hur- ried into her room and closed the door. The wedding dress hung across from her. She moved toward it, pausing in front of the mirror to look at her reflection. You’re a lethal threat to my bachelor life. His words echoed in her mind. How could she be so dangerous to him? Her lips were red from his kisses and she touched her mouth lightly, remembering how it felt being held in his arms. One year—would she be com- pletely, madly in love with him by the end of the time? Or a whole lot sooner?

  The next morning as she brushed her hair, she heard a commotion in the hall. She hurried to open her door to find Quin holding Snookums and Josh trying to get the cat away from him. Juliana started toward them.

  “Let me have him! You can’t keep him all the time!” Josh yelled.

  “Hey, guys,” Cal said, emerging from his room that was at the far end of their bedrooms. He was wearing jeans and was barefoot and bare-chested, his jaw half-covered with shaving cream. “What’s the problem?” he said, reaching the boys first.

  She stopped, momentarily forgetting the squabble, not hearing their arguments as she looked at the handsome man she had married. As he stood before her with shaving cream on his face, there was an intimacy to the moment that held her riveted.

  “I get him now. Quin can’t have him all the time,” Josh yelled.

  “Right now, he looks happy in Quin’s possession,” Cal answered easily. “Tell you what, you come with me while I shave and we’ll talk about who gets Snooks and when. Okay?” he asked, leaning down to look Josh in the eye.

  Chewing his lip and appearing torn between wanting the cat and obeying Cal’s request, Josh shrugged. He looked up at Cal’s face and touched the shaving cream. “I remember Daddy shaving.”

  “Do you? Well, you come watch me. Quin, you put Snooks where he’s comfortable.”

  “Yes, sir,” Quin said and gave Cal a hint of a smile as he turned and dashed into his room, closing the door behind him. Cal glanced at Juliana and winked.

  “Good morning.”

  “Morning. Thanks,” she hoped she said, her gaze flicking over his broad, muscular chest, the mat of dark hair splashed across it. She didn’t know whether she was blessed or cursed that Elnora had picked for her such a fine speci- men of a male.

  “Anytime. C’mon, Josh.” They disappeared into Cal’s room and Juliana returned to hers, thinking that for a man who wanted a solitary life, he was very good with the chil- dren. She stopped in her tracks. Careful. He could seduce her just as swiftly through the boys as with his sexy charm and hot kisses. Just because the man might be daddy ma- terial for a few months, it didn’t mean he would really make a lasting commitment, and her nephews were as vulnerable as she was.

  As she moved around the room, the image of Cal’s bare chest with its mat of dark curls, of his jaw covered with shaving cream, floated in mind with persistence, making her more conscious of him than ever before. Three hundred and sixty-four days. She glanced into the mirror and leaned for- ward. “How long can you resist him?” she asked herself and stared at her reflection that gave no answer.

  Seven

  The following Saturday, she sat in the bow of the flat-bottomed boat and watched Cal teaching Chris to row. They had been married one week and her awareness of him was honed to such a fine point that she knew the instant he ap- proached. There hadn’t been any kisses since that first night. Monday and Tuesday, Cal had been in Dallas during the day, home late at night. The rest of the week he had worked long hours and she had seen little of him, but the few times they had been together, he touched her constantly. And as casual as the contacts had been, they were enough to keep her consciousness of him smoldering.

  Now it was the weekend, and he had agreed to take the boys boating. He leaned forward, talking to Chris. As Cal hoisted a box of tackle and swung it over Josh to set it in the bottom of the boat, his muscles flexed and rippled. He was wearing a T-shirt and cutoffs and he looked incredibly fit and healthy with skin that was brown enough to give a mis- taken impression that he worked outside all day.

  With yells from the boys and Chris rocking the boat, they pushed away from the wooden dock that ran out from a ramshackle boathouse. Bushes grew high along the banks and the water was an opaque muddy green. Up the sloping lawn stood the house, shaded by oaks, poplars and pine trees. Several yards wide, Rainy Creek cut across the five acres that comprised Green Oaks grounds.

  In minutes they moved smoothly along, Chris and Josh pulling on the oars, while Quin sat trailing a string in the water. Cal moved carefully past them to sit down beside her. On the narrow seat they were pressed together, her shoul- der against his, their hips and thighs touching. He shifted and moved his legs. “This sure is a fast-moving stream,” he said.

  “You should see it after a rain. It’s a torrent.” She paused to look at her nephews. “The boys love this,” she said fondly.

  “Living at Green Oaks is good for them,” he observed.

  “Quin has really taken to Snookums. I hear him talking to the cat and that’s good.”

  “Great. I’m glad ole Snooks is finally earning his keep.”

  She laughed and turned to look at the water and the trees they passed. It was a beautiful, sunny day, the June sun- light sparkling on the creek’s rippling surface, and it was fun to have Cal with them. She waved her hand toward the water.

  “This creek carries us beneath the highway. Too bad this couldn’t have been the road from the house, it’s much shorter to the highway this way.”

  “Do all the boys know how to swim?”

  “Yes. Josh flounders in the water, but he can stay afloat.”

  “Good. Because they’ll be around boats and water now. We need to pick a boundary. Maybe the highway bridge should be the place because several miles south of here, this creek empties into the Sabine River.”

  “I don’t want them in the boat without one of us.”

  “You set the rules, but Chris is getting big enough to handle a boat by himself and he may take to fishing.”

  “All right. Chris can take the boat, but Josh or Quin are not to go without him,” she said, wondering how many changes Cal would bring into their lives. Josh gave his oar to Chris and moved to sit beside Quin.

  “I’m taking Chris out to fish this afternoon. We should be in by dark and I can grill fish or burgers if you’d like,” Cal offered.

  She glanced at him as he yanked his T-shirt over his head and wiped his sweaty forehead. Muscles rippled with his movements and her mouth went dry, her answer leaving her, her attention focusing on his broad chest.

  “Want me to grill?”

  She became aware of a question, but she couldn’t pull her attention away from him. She looked up to find him watching her.

  “You have a strong body for a man who sits in an office all day.” Startled by what she’d said, she felt her cheeks burn. “Forget that,” she said quickly in a low tone. “We weren’t going to get personal.”

  He caught her chin in his hand, half turning on the plank seat and not caring whether the boys heard him or not. His pulse raced as he leaned down. “Half the things we do and say to each other are personal,” he said quietly. “Must be a sign of something.”

  “Don’t make a federal case out of it, Counselor.”

  He grinned and winked at her, leaning close to her ear. “If I had you alone, I think I could make more than a federal case out of it.”

  She leaned away from him and glanced toward her neph- ews. Cal didn’t bother to turn around because he could hear the boys talking and suspected they had no interest in any- thing Juliana and he were doing. Her face was pink and she bit her lower lip. He wished they were alone and he felt his pulse drum, knowing they were skirting dangerous ground again. He should leave the l
ady alone. Yet she was all woman, appealing, sexy, looking as if she was on the brink of letting go, and when she did, he thought she would be breathtaking in her passion.

  He turned away to look at the water, attempting to get control of his emotions and his reaction to her before he did or said something foolish. They had spent one week to- gether and he was having difficulty keeping his hands to himself around her. The flirting came spontaneously from both of them. They were in a volatile situation, yet how easily he could forget the threat to his solitary future.

  He turned to look at her, seeing her lean forward to help Josh disentangle a line. Her thick braid fell over one shoul- der. Cal’s gaze drifted down to her round bottom. The cut- offs she was wearing were brief, her smooth long legs only inches from his, pale next to his dark skin. He ached to slide his fingers along them. With a silent curse, he looked at the water.

  “I don’t sit in an office all the time,” he corrected. “And I think I should say thank-you, but I’m not certain.”

  “Yes, you should,” she said, unable to resist glancing at his chest again.

  “Oh, babe,” he said softly. “That summer sun doesn’t generate half the heat you do.”

  “Cal! Do I have to move away, or will you?”

  “I will, but just because this isn’t the time or place. I think it’s time for Quin to take a turn rowing.” Cal stood to move forward, walking with an easy balance to get the boys to trade places and to sit beside Quin. Cal rowed with one oar and Quin with the other, both oars dipping into the water at the same time, Cal adjusting his rowing to Quin’s.

  They sailed beneath the highway bridge and the wind tugged at tendrils of Juliana’s hair that had escaped her braid. She picked up her braid and absentmindedly drew the ends of her hair down her cheek, feeling light tickles, re- membering last Saturday when he had unplaited her hair.

  Cal watched her draw the thick braid across her cheek, tickling herself with it. Clearly, she was a sensual woman. He suspected she hadn’t thought about what she was do- ing. He watched her draw the braid slowly along her cheek and could imagine his hand there, sliding lower, sliding down over her soft curves. Her gaze was in the distance. What was running through her thoughts?