She realized that to Lucas it was sex, not making love. He'd made that clear from the beginning, and there'd been no indication that his feelings had changed. He was passionate, exciting, an amazing lover, but there were no tender endearments, no words of love, no talk about the future.
He'd be going back to Dallas soon, she was certain of it. He hadn't said anything to her, but he'd been working longer hours, making more phone calls from home, and the past week there'd been two nights he hadn't even come home until after ten o'clock. He'd also seemed more distracted lately, on edge, and she could only imagine that domestic life was beginning to bore him.
With a sigh Julianna stepped back and examined the wall she'd nearly completed. Old wallpaper curled in piles on the floor, and the musty smell of scraped plaster and wallpaper remover filled the room. Not bad for a day's work, she thought opening a window, then stuck her head outside for a breath of fresh air.
The sky was deep blue, the scent of honeysuckle vine heavy on the afternoon air.
She stared out into the backyard at the bed she'd prepared for planting flowers. The inside work on the house was nearly done, and she'd even managed to find time to buy a few pieces of furniture: a new plaid couch in the living room, an antique bedroom dresser she'd bargained ruthlessly for at the local flea market, an oak shelf unit she'd found on sale in the paper. Lucas had given her carte blanche spending. He'd even set up accounts at the local stores, but she'd preferred the fun of negotiating, not to mention the thrill of finding some new piece of treasure. With every new item she acquired, the house seemed more and more like a home to her.
Until Lucas came back, this was all she'd wanted, all she could ever have hoped for.
She only prayed that when he left again, it would somehow be enough.
"Are you going to jump?"
She jerked upward, knocked her head on the window and swore. Glaring over her shoulder, she saw Lucas leaning against the doorjamb, a mixture of amusement and pain on his face as he watched her.
Rubbing her head, she turned and frowned at him. "You could have at least warned me you were standing there."
"Sorry." He pushed away from the doorjamb and moved over to inspect the wall she'd scraped. "You're one hell of a stripper."
"That's what they all say." At least there was no blood, she thought, glancing at the fingers she'd just touched to her head.
"Yeah?" He moved toward her, examined the top of her head and planted a kiss. "Who says?"
"All the important men in my life. The plumber, the painter, the appliance installer. Oh, and the tile man. Have you any idea how hard it is to find a good tile man?"
"So I've heard." He frowned at her. "What was the appliance installer doing up here in the bedroom with you?"
"He brought me up a bill to sign after he installed the stove top and oven. Pretty sneaky way to get me in the bedroom, wasn't it?"
Lucas knew she was teasing, but he wasn't amused. He didn't like the idea of all these construction men in the house with her and was glad that most of the work was nearly done. It wasn't that he was worried about Julianna, of course. But she had no idea how beautiful she was, how she could drive even the most focused man to distraction.
Like himself.
Even dressed in overalls and with her hair tucked under a backward baseball cap, she was the most appealing woman he'd ever seen. He watched as she spotted a small piece of wallpaper she'd missed and set about scraping it off.
Damn, but the woman was sexy.
He couldn't get enough of her, and the realization made him uneasy. Sex with Julianna had always been part of his intention, but. requiring it, finding it a necessity, had not. He'd always been comfortable in a relationship; there'd always been an "understanding" with the women he'd been involved with. Other than a piece of paper and a ring on her finger, he'd assumed that Julianna would be no different.
He couldn't have been more wrong.
Fascinated, he watched as she rubbed her fingers over the clean plaster, then blew at the fine dust. He also couldn't imagine even one of the women he'd ever dated scraping wallpaper or wearing work overalls.
He picked up a second scraper and worked beside her, stretching for the high spots she'd need a stool to reach.
She glanced over at him. "So what brings you by at this time of the day?"
"I left a fax from the Dallas office on the dresser this morning."
She shook her head. "There's no fax on the dresser. I dusted this morning."
"Really? Maybe I left it in the car." He made an effort to look thoughtful as he glanced around. "Where's the plumber and tile man?"
"Finished for the day." She rubbed at the dust on her nose with the sleeve of her white shirt. "They won't be back until tomorrow."
"Oh?" He hadn't known they'd be alone. He'd simply wanted to see her. He'd...missed her. Even to admit it to himself made him feel silly. Like some kind of a teenager with a crush. "Tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow." She raised one eyebrow as she looked over at him. "So you only came home for the fax?"
"It's an addendum to, an important contract," he said smoothly.
"Important, is it?" She set her scraper down and turned to face him.
Nodding, he set his scraper down, too. "Extremely. ' '
"Well, then—" She bent and tugged off her tennis shoes, then took off her baseball hat and tossed it. Her hair tumbled around her shoulders. "I suppose you should go look in your car or something."
"I'm sure that's where it is."
He'd only intended to come home for a minute or two. He had a lot of work to do. Negotiations over a property in Austin, and a meeting with a contractor from Dallas who was probably waiting for him right now.
His blood pumped like fire through his veins when she reached for the snaps of her overalls and unhooked them. She kept her eyes carefully on his as denim slid down her body and pooled at her feet. She kicked them away, and stood in front of him wearing only the white shirt with rolled sleeves and pink lace underwear.
He reminded himself to breathe. He could resist her, he said over and over. He could walk away and go back to work and completely put her out of his mind.
She turned and moved for the door. "I'm going to take a shower. There's lunch meat in the refrigerator if you're hungry."
She was teasing him. He was certain of it. He didn't like to be teased, he thought irritably. Damn if the woman didn't look as good from behind as she did from the front. He watched her walk away, and the sway of her hips and round bottom had him clenching his teeth. What did she think, that he'd follow her like some kind of a lovesick puppy? He had control, he could walk away.
He waited a full five seconds, until he heard the water run from their bathroom shower.
To hell with control. He swore, then went after her.
July came with typical Texas vengeance, shimmered in waves off the asphalt driveway of Papa Pete's coffee shop and wilted the flowers planted in the border outside. Thick clouds billowed in the distance, and humidity thickened the air to the consistency of syrup.
No question there'd be a storm before this day was through, Julianna thought as she pulled into a parking space and cut the engine.
"Why, Julianna Hadley!" Madge Hargrove hurried over the minute she spotted Julianna entering the coffee shop. "Lord Almighty, we ain't seen you in Papa Pete's for ages. Come here, child, and give this old broad a hug."
Julianna smiled at the platinum-blond owner of the popular coffee shop, then endured a bone-crushing embrace from the Amazonian woman. She smelled like French fries and barbecued hamburgers, the two items Papa Pete's was famous for.
"Actually, it's Julianna Blackhawk now," Julianna said awkwardly.
"Shoot, I know that, honey." Madge grabbed a menu, a coffeepot and led the way through the crowded restaurant. "Everyone knows that, unless they're dead or in a coma. There ain't been such talk since Bobby John Walker took off with that waitress from Abilene. And afte* he and Mary Lynn only being married three
months. Man shoulda been horsewhipped."
Ignoring all the eyes that had followed her across the café, Julianna slid into the booth where Madge was already pouring coffee. Everyone at Papa Pete's got an earful of gossip and a cup of coffee—whether they wanted it or not.
"'Course, the best part of that story was Mary Lynn winning the lottery three days later. Hit the big one, she did." Grinning, Madge leaned back with one hand on her generous hip. "When that bum came crawling back, she gave him the boot, right in his behind. God do have a sense of humor now, don't He? You wanna order, honey?"
Julianna shook her head. "I'm waiting for someone."
Madge brightened considerably. "Oh, Lordy, tell me it's that handsome husband of yours. I ain't seen that boy since he come back here, but the stories I hear 'bout you two would steam the wrinkles off old Pepper Johnson's face."
The heat of a blush worked its way up Julianna's neck. Of course everyone was talking about them. Lucas Blackhawk marrying Julianna Hadley—his enemy's daughter—was just about the biggest scandal Wolf River had ever seen. She'd avoided town as much as possible, hoping that after a month the uproar would die down, but apparently she and Lucas were still hot news.
"So tell me," Madge went on. "Was it true you was waitressing a few weeks back at that fancy hotel Lucas built? I said, 'No way, not our little Julianna,' but Jim Walters said he, saw you and you looked mighty fine in that short skirt."
"Hey, Madge," Charlie Peters called from across the restaurant, "what's a man gotta do to get a cup of coffee 'round here?"
"Hold your mules, Charlie," Madge called back good-naturedly. "Can't you see I'm talking to Julianna here?"
The room went silent as every head turned. Julianna had spent a lifetime pretending that curious stares and disapproving looks didn't matter to her, but at this moment she desperately wished she hadn't agreed to meet Lucas here, prayed that the floor would open up and swallow her whole.
The sound of breaking glass from the kitchen had Madge turning abruptly. "Got me a new waiter with six thumbs. 'Bout the only thing he's good for is hitchhiking, but he's my nephew's boy, and family's family. Be right back, honey."
Julianna breathed a sigh of relief when the normal din of the restaurant finally returned. She knew the menu by heart, but pretended to study it, anyway, hoping if she avoided eye contact she would be lucky and also avoid conversation.
"Julianna, I've been hoping I'd run into you."
So much for luck. She groaned silently as Roger Gerckee slid into the booth across from her. Roger was three years older than her, but that hadn't stopped him from tormenting her all through junior and senior high school. Not that he'd singled her out. He'd tormented all the girls and weaker boys.
"I'm meeting someone, Roger," she said coolly. "Maybe some other time."
"Some other time would be great." He'd lowered his voice suggestively .and leaned across the table closer to her. "But I just need a minute of your time right now."
She knew there were women who fell for his schoolboy charm and Ivy League looks—usually the type whose IQ matched their bust size—but Julianna knew that underneath all that perfectly cut, perfectly combed blond hair lay a brain the size of a peanut. "What do you want, Roger?"
"In case you weren't aware, your father has retained me as legal counsel. He's asked me to speak with you for him."
Her hand tightened around her coffee cup. "Speak with me about what?"
"About a matter involving a father-daughter confidence. Something that happened several years ago. Something he feels you wouldn't want your new husband to be aware of."
A chill slithered up her spine. Her father had always been good at finding weak spots in people and preying on them. He'd use what he knew against her, do whatever he had to do to get what he wanted. It didn't matter that it might very well destroy the little bit of happiness she'd finally managed to find.
Refusing to let Roger know his arrow had hit her most vulnerable spot, she looked out the window, focused her attention on the hardware store across the street.
"Look," Roger said, leaning even closer. "We both know that this marriage of yours is a sham. I can't blame you for making a deal with Blackhawk. In fact, it was a smart move. But as your father's lawyer, I'm confident we'll win our suit against your husband's obvious attempt to defraud. And, of course, there's always the possibility that you could even persuade Lucas to drop the entire matter."
She shook her head at the absurdity of his suggestion. "What makes you think that I have any kind of influence over Lucas and his business decisions?"
"You're a beautiful woman, Julianna. I'm sure you'd have no trouble at all convincing Lucas to change his mind." He reached out and covered her hand. "You know I'd never let you be out in the street. When this is all over, you can trust me to take care of you."
His tone with the words "take care of you" made her sick to her stomach. She tried to tug her hand from his, but he held on tight. "When pigs fly, Roger."
"Look, Julianna, I know you're under stress, that you're not thinking clearly. Why don't you meet
me—"
"Get your hand off my wife, Gerckee. Now."
Julianna snapped her head up at the sound of Lucas's quiet, but nonetheless deadly, command. She hadn't seen him walk up, and obviously neither had Roger, who let go of her hand as if it were a hot coal.
"Hey, Lucas," the lawyer managed through a tight smile. "How you doing, pal? Julianna and I were just talking, you know, about the good old days."
Lucas smiled, but it never reached his cold, black eyes. "Which 'good old days' you talking about, Gerckee? The time your shorts fell off when you did the backflip at the swim meet? Or maybe the time you gave your speech for class president with purple teeth. That was pretty good. Then there was the time Nick dumped you upside down in that trash can for stealing little Margaret Smith's lunch. That one's probably my favorite."
Furious, but not stupid enough to do anything about it, Roger merely laughed, then slid out of the booth. "Yeah, we were pretty crazy, weren't we? Well, I'm meeting someone here, so I'll just leave you two alone. Good to see you, Lucas. No hard feelings, I hope. You know, about me working for Hadley."
Lucas shrugged. "Just makes my lawyer's job easier."
Roger's jaw tightened at the insult, but he still smiled as he backed away. "We'll be in touch, Julianna. Soon."
Lucas glared at the man, then slid into the booth across from her. "You want to tell me what the hell that was all about?"
"Nothing much." She wouldn't lie; Lucas would know if she did. But she didn't need to tell him everything, either. "He said that he knew our marriage wasn't a real one, suggested I persuade you to drop the lawsuit against my father, and that when this is all over, he offered to take care of me."
She could have sworn she saw a muscle twitch in his jaw. "And what did you say?" he asked.
"I told him that our marriage was none of his business."
His manner was casual as he reached for her coffee and took a sip. "And what else?"
Disappointment flooded her, and she realized how desperately she'd wanted a reaction from Lucas, anything that might reveal what he was thinking. Was their marriage a sham, she wanted to know?
"What else did you tell him?" Lucas asked again, his voice stiff and impatient.
As childish as it was, she considered trying to make him jealous, anything to evoke a response. But this was Roger, for God's sake, and besides, it simply wasn't her style. So she shrugged and took the coffee from his hand. "I told him that I'd let him take care of me when pigs fly."
He relaxed at her answer, then stared across the restaurant to where Roger was sitting with Mary Ann Johnson. When Roger glanced over and saw Lucas glaring at him, he quickly looked away.
"That boy has no idea how close he just came to seeing the inside of a trash can again."
The image of Roger being properly put in his place—a trash can—eased the tightness in her stomach. "Am I to believe, Lucas Bl
ackhawk," she said with a lift of her eyebrow, "that you also had something to do with his shorts falling off and his purple teeth?"
He grinned at the memory. "The shorts were my undertaking, but the purple teeth were Ian's brainstorm, just a little trivia he learned in chemistry that had to do with a glass of water and a breath mint. That Irishman is brilliant when it comes to science."
The sound of Lucas's deep laugh warmed Julianna's heart. "Where's Ian now?" she asked.
"Right now it's hard to say where he is. He travels a lot." He turned, looking for Madge. "Have you ordered? I'm starving."
Strange, she thought, how evasive both Lucas and Nick were when it came to any mention of Killian Shawnessy. If she didn't know for a fact that the man existed, she'd think him a phantom. Whatever the situation was with Ian, Lucas made it clear that he was not a subject for conversation.
And besides, when they were together, conversation was not what they usually had in mind.
The simplest brush of his hand on hers, a glance from those incredible eyes of his, that was all it took to make her want him.
And when he took her in his arms, when he made love to her, logic ceased to exist. There was only Lucas, and every wall she'd built around her heart tumbled away. The power he had over her terrified and exhilarated her at the same time. Even now her skin tingled at the thought of his touch, the way he kissed her, the way he— ' 'Julianna... hello..."
She blinked, saw that he was watching her. "I'm sorry. Did you say something?"
He studied her, and the amusement she'd seen in his eyes only a moment before disappeared. In its place was something darkly familiar and wildly erotic. Heat coursed through her as she held his intense gaze.
Secrets 01- Blackhawk’s Sweet Revenge Page 10
