“You are a remarkable woman, Justine Walker.”
That was the truth and he hadn’t meant it in an intimate way, just a statement of fact. But when the words were out of his mouth, they felt very personal. He felt personal. His gaze wandered to the pool and its lights under the crystal clear water. He remembered Justine swimming in the dark, staying in the water while talking to him, then pretending to hear his cell phone ring so she could get out and put on a cover-up. Clearly she didn’t want him to see her from the waist down, and it dawned on him that her self-consciousness was also tied to the accident. It was why she always wore long pants and dresses that fell to the floor.
“Your leg is scarred, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said without hesitation. “Surgery is an invasive technique to fix the body, but you have to inflict trauma on the outside in order to repair what’s wrong underneath. A catch-22 for doctors who have taken an oath to do no harm.”
She looked at him for a moment, conflict raging in her eyes, then seemed to make a decision. Slowly she slid the hem of her dress to just above her knee. Thick, purplish-red marks marred the skin and crisscrossed her shin and calf.
“There were a lot of surgeries,” she said simply.
He nodded. “I can’t believe how much I whined about something as insignificant as a broken leg. I’m officially a candy ass.”
She laughed. “If anyone knows how much a broken leg hurts, it’s me.”
“Still, the least I could have done is bite down on a stick and set it myself.”
There was amusement in her eyes when she said, “Have I ever told you you’re very dramatic?”
“Probably. But I’m cured now.”
“Hardly. It’s in your nature, I think.” She let her skirt fall and cover the scarring that clearly made her ill at ease.
Cal had a nature, all right, but he wouldn’t call it dramatic. Dishonorable, distasteful, detestable and sleazy would certainly describe his nature. The disfigurement she’d revealed to him was both deep and shocking, but the sight of it did not take the edge off his wanting her. And that was damned inconvenient.
It was tangible proof of the profound loss she’d experienced with the death of her husband and child. Continuing to want her was bad enough, but hitting on her in spite of it would make him the slimiest life form on the planet. He was a guy and couldn’t help the attraction that wouldn’t go away, but there were lines a decent man wouldn’t cross. Cal considered himself a decent man, and this was one of those uncrossable lines.
* * *
“I just got this report faxed from the corporate office.” Justine sat on the couch beside her boss. She was ready to take notes as he looked it over. It was the way he liked to work. “Ready when you are.”
“I’ll look it over later and make notations in the margin.” He put the papers on the coffee table, topping a stack that would eventually end up on her desk to deal with.
“Good. Because lunch will be here soon. You must be starving.”
“Not really.”
That was odd since he’d picked at his food that morning. He was a big man with a healthy appetite and missing a meal was out of character for him. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Fine. I guess my physical restrictions have pared down my need to eat.”
Justine had been here almost two weeks and in that time saw no evidence of that until the last couple of days. It was official. Cal was acting weird, and not just in his eating habits. He was avoiding her—some with the work stuff, but mostly everything else. No field trips to weave reeds into something functional—or not.
The only difference was that she’d told him about losing her family. Maybe that cured him of wanting to talk to her. Or seeing her hideous scars had turned him off. Or worse. He pitied her. And that just made her insane. But since the night they’d gone to the restaurant and were mistaken for honeymooners, he’d been distant.
Justine didn’t like it. “You’re sure you don’t want to scan that report? I can respond if you have any questions or need clarifications.”
“No, I’ll get to it later. Why don’t you work on email?” he suggested.
That would put her at the desk and far away from him. She could do that. Without a word she stood and moved across the room, then sat down in front of her laptop. There wasn’t much to look at and nothing pressing. The way he’d acted, you’d have thought lasting world peace depended on her taking care of this.
In the process of trying to read his mind, she stole peeks at her boss and had been all morning. If she was being honest, she’d been doing that since the first day she came to work for him. Nine times out of ten she caught him looking back at her and the expression in his eyes made her pulse jump and her heart race. Not today. For all the notice he took of her, she could be a mixed green salad.
Mercifully there was a knock on the door, breaking the tension in the room.
“I’ll get it.” The words were automatic since she always took care of this.
Justine jumped up and hurried to let in the room service waiters. She’d gotten to know them pretty well and smiled at the two men. They were wearing their resort uniforms of dark slacks and beige cotton island-print shirts.
“Hi, William.” She looked at the other man. “George, how is your little boy’s cold? Is he feeling better?”
“Yes, ma’am.” The dark-skinned, brown-eyed young man smiled. “He is getting into everything again.”
“That’s a good sign.” She glanced at the other server. “William, did you patch things up with your girlfriend?”
“I took your advice, Miss Justine, and was honest with her about my feelings.” His voice was heavily accented, like those of most of the staff who worked and lived on the island.
She walked with them to the dining table as they wheeled the cart over and set everything out. “And? How did it go?”
“She was very happy that I opened up and explained that talking about such things is not easy for me.”
“A lot of men feel that way,” she said sympathetically. “But we can’t read your minds.”
“So she told me. I asked for her patience and she was very understanding.”
“I’m glad to hear that.” At least she’d been useful to someone. She glanced over her shoulder at Cal, who was uncharacteristically engrossed in his laptop. “So, is the fish good today?”
George smiled. “It is perfection, Miss Justine.”
“Great. You guys haven’t steered me wrong yet.” She signed the room service check and the two waiters left with the wheeled cart. “Lunch is served.”
Cal moved at the words, almost a flinch. Then his shoulders tensed. He stood and, without looking at her, said, “You go ahead. I’m not hungry.”
“Really? You barely touched your breakfast.” Then she wondered if he’d had a setback in his recovery. “Is your leg bothering you? Maybe we should call the doctor and—”
“I’m fine. Some air and sunshine are all I need.”
“Then I’ll help you get to the lounge. You can lean on me and—”
“No.” The single word was almost as shocking as the loud crack of a bullet ricocheting around the room. He sighed, then turned toward her and said in a quiet, controlled voice, “I can make it by myself. You eat before the food gets cold.”
And with that, he pivoted toward the exit and disappeared through the French doors. Justine crossed the room to watch and make sure he didn’t fall. On the contrary, he made it easily, hopping on his good leg the two steps to where he stretched out in the shade of the palm trees. She could see only his legs, one muscular and tan, the other encased in white plaster.
Her feelings weren’t hurt, exactly, that he hadn’t insisted she keep him company. But she liked his wanting her around a lot better than shutting her out. And it wasn’t
so long ago that she’d tried very hard to avoid spending more time with her boss than was absolutely necessary.
Basket weaving and masquerading as honeymooners had certainly changed her attitude. This sudden cold shoulder was puzzling, to say the least.
“Be a jerk. See if I care,” she said to herself. “You’re not going to spoil my lunch.”
She went back and plopped herself into one of the chairs at the dining table that suddenly seemed much too big. And a little bit lonely. A personality as big as Cal Hart’s left a very large space to fill and Justine missed him. No one liked to eat alone but she’d been forced to get used to it. Until she took this job with Cal. This reaction was unexpected and, if she was being honest, a little disconcerting.
She lifted the silver dome from the plate and the perfect fish did look delicious, which was too bad. “Now I’m not hungry.”
Her cell phone rang and she checked the display. She didn’t recognize the number but answered anyway. Apparently it hadn’t taken long for her to crave the sound of another human voice.
“Hello?”
“Miss Walker, this is Rudy from Island Tours. I’m double-checking your reservation for this afternoon, as you requested.”
“Right.” In case something work-related had unexpectedly come up, she wanted the company to be aware that a cancellation could happen. “Yes. We’re still on.” At least, she thought they were.
“Excellent. Then I’ll see you and Mr. Hart at two o’clock.”
“We’ll be there.” She crossed her fingers, hoping that wasn’t a lie. It also meant she had to remind Cal. After basket weaving she ran all activities past him. No more surprises. He’d seemed enthusiastic about touring the island, but that was before.
Justine left the table and went outside. She walked past the patio table and pristine pool, then stopped to slip off her shoes before stepping into the sand. Uninvited and without a direct order, she sat in the lounge beside Cal’s.
“It’s good to see you relaxing.” If this time-out in the sun had worked its magic and his normal attitude was restored, he would respond with something like Do I look relaxed? or Relaxation is for sissies.
“Yup. I am so calm.”
Justine had seen tranquil and stress-free, and this wasn’t it. He looked tense, tight and ready to snap any second. But she would play his little game. “Great. And there’s more where this came from. We have a tour of the island this afternoon. An open-air jeep and knowledgeable driver will show us the high points and explain the history of this ocean paradise.”
“Yeah, about that—”
“We discussed this and it’s on your schedule,” she reminded him.
His mouth pulled tight. “Something came up. I had to reschedule the conference call for this afternoon.”
“I thought that was all arranged for tomorrow.”
“The timing is delicate. It’s about arranging financing for a project and everyone’s available today.”
As far as she’d known, everyone was on board for tomorrow, but she was nothing if not flexible. Even though she’d been looking forward to an afternoon drive along the ocean. But it would keep for another day.
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll call the tour company back and cancel.”
“That’s not necessary. You go.”
By herself? “There’s work. I’ll need to be here to take notes during the call.”
“I’ll manage.”
Was it her imagination or did he seem awfully eager to get rid of her?
“Take the afternoon off.”
“Why?”
“Why what?” he asked.
“Why do you want me to take the afternoon off?”
“So you can go on the tour,” he said. “It seems like canceling now is kind of abrupt.”
“This is out of character for a man who thinks a fourteen-hour day is normal.” She met his gaze. “And I made the reservation with the stipulation that there could be a sudden cancellation. Just in case something work-related came up. And it did.”
“I’ll be fine. You should go.”
She studied the too eager, too sincere expression he was using to sell this idea. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but for the last conference call you insisted I be present, even though there was overtime involved.” It was the only time since her first night, and it had been important.
“And I shouldn’t have. So take this afternoon off. It’s my way of making things up to you.”
“What’s really going on, Cal?”
He didn’t answer right away, obviously thinking carefully about his response. “This is hard for me to admit, but it bothered me when you said no one wanted to work with me. I’m making a determined effort to change. So, take the time. I’m rehabilitating my image and I’d appreciate it if you’d help me out here, then spread the word back at the office about your excellent afternoon off.”
Justine didn’t buy this phony-baloney for a second. She’d scheduled the conference call with all parties involved and there was no conflict. The fact that Cal had been vague about details was a big clue that he was grasping at straws to get her out of here. And, presumably, to get out of spending the afternoon with her. If that’s the way he wanted it...
“Okay.” She stood. “It’s a beautiful day for a drive. A real shame you have to miss it.”
“Enjoy.”
“I absolutely will,” she said firmly.
And she wouldn’t think about him.
Without another word she walked back to the villa. Her vow to put him out of her mind lasted less than a minute. The acute disappointment coursing through her meant something. Something big.
She was falling for Cal Hart. She refused to think the word love, but she was falling pretty deeply in like with the man. And wasn’t that just her luck. She was finally ready to dip a toe back into the pool of life, only to be rejected by the man who had made her want to do it in the first place.
She had two more weeks with him and it was going to be hard. Trying to act as if she didn’t notice his distant manner toward her that was in direct contrast to his attitude in the beginning was going to take everything she had.
Grit. That’s what she needed. Fortunately she had a lot, earned the hard way. She’d never expected to use it on a man.
Chapter Nine
Vacation sucked.
Cal had experienced more stress since Justine Walker showed up than he had in four years of not taking time off. The guided tour of the island must have been good because she hadn’t shown up for dinner, and he’d been surprised when it arrived since he hadn’t thought to deal with food. Turned out her efficiency had no bounds, she’d ordered room service for one and everything was his favorite.
He wanted to be mad at her for abandoning him, but he’d given her the afternoon off and all but ordered her to take it. Selfishly it was to get a break from resisting the yearning to carry her to his bed and explore every inch of her bare skin. Although the carrying was a tad ambitious considering he was still on crutches, but when she was in the room some version of that fantasy never failed to roll through his mind.
Movement on the patio caught his attention, and he left the chair in his room where he was reading reports to hobble over to the open door. Justine stood there, straight and strong, the sole of one bare foot balanced against the other leg. She was wearing stretchy black pants that fit her like a second skin and a snug racerback top that sweetly outlined her breasts. She faced away from him and didn’t know he was watching each successive gracefully executed pose.
Cal knew he was going to hell for not turning away but...there really was no excuse except that he couldn’t not look at her. The sight of her was better than a sunset to fill up his soul. That’s when he realized the fantasy of carrying her off didn’t just happen when they were in th
e same room. He’d been alone all afternoon and thoughts of her wouldn’t go away. Worse, he’d missed her.
She was a lethal combination of smart, beautiful, sexy and serene. The need to touch her bordered on painful. But seeing her scarred leg had hit him like a bucket of ice water. Life had kicked her in the teeth and he was her boss. Doing what his body was urging him to do would be wrong for those two reasons alone, and he could think of a dozen more. He would not compromise her.
Finally, she finished and rolled up her yoga mat before heading inside. Cal needed fresh air and a drink, not necessarily in that order. Somehow he managed to pour a Scotch and get outside without spilling it. He had just settled in one of the chairs and taken a sip of his drink when Justine came back outside.
“Cal? Your cell rang and I answered.” Looking apologetic, she walked over and held out the device. “It’s your mother.”
He barely held in a groan and hesitated as if she was giving him a snake that would take a painful bite. No guts, no glory, he thought before taking the device. “Hi, Mom.”
“Hello, Cal. How are you?”
“Good.” If good was defined by lusting after his executive assistant. “How are you? Everything okay?”
“Excellent.”
“Is Dad all right?”
“Fine. And so are your brothers and sister and your niece. And now that the pleasantries are out of the way, I have to ask about the young woman who answered your phone.”
“That’s Justine, my—” He’d almost said employee but remembered just in time about the bet. He wasn’t supposed to be working. If Katherine Hart found out he was, that sweet classic car would never be his. Worse, the family would never let him live this down.
“Your what, dear?”
“Friend. We met here at the resort.” That was true.
“She sounded so professional.” There was a note of suspicion in his mother’s voice.
“She works as an executive assistant and that requires phone skills, so it’s probably just her habit to be that way when she’s on the phone.”
His by Christmas Page 10
