"I don't think Randi will, either."
"Good. Then it's set for eight o'clock tomorrow. Shall we unobtrusively make an appearance at the inn to see how it goes between them?"
She would be dying of curiosity—and anxiety, Juliet acknowledged to herself. And if things went wrong, Randi might need her. "Maybe I will go," she said slowly.
"It's very important that we stay out of sight. I'll pick you up tomorrow at seven-fifteen."
She really should drive out herself, she thought. There was no need to go with Caine Saxon. "All right. Seven-fifteen." She bit her lip in vexation. Why on earth had she said that? She quickly reversed herself. "Never mind, I'll drive myself."
"You are scared, aren't you, honey?"
"Of you? I most certainly am not!"
"Maybe you're afraid of the way I make you feel." That laugh again, that low laugh that made her tingle with a primitive sexual excitement. "It's quite normal, you know. Women are often afraid of the men that they're powerfully attracted to. I'm told that virgins are apt to be especially antagonistic."
"And from where do you draw your facts?" she demanded hotly. Her whole body was one heated blush. She refused to admit it, but his suggestive supposition actually made sense to her in an odd sort of way.
"I made them up." he replied cheerfully.
"Oh! You!" Juliet glared at the phone as if it were to blame for her discomfiture. "You're—You're—" Why did she have to become incoherent at a time like this? No doubt the cleverly scathing retort she longed to throw at him would occur to her a few hours from now.
"I'm going to pick you up at seven-fifteen tomorrow, partner," Caine finished calmly. "Juliet?"
"What?"
"It may interest you to know that Sophia never made her date tonight." There was a particular satisfaction in Caine's tone. "I intercepted the guy as he pulled into the driveway. Told him that Sophia must have gotten her dates mixed up, that she'd already left with another man. He drove off in a huff."
"You really told him that?" Juliet exclaimed, instantly diverted by the tale.
"I felt I owed it to Grant—and to Miranda. And that's just what I told Sophia."
"I bet she turned purple!" Juliet said gleefully.
"A ferocious shade of mauve. Good night, sweet Juliet, my fair accomplice."
She smiled. "Good night, Caine Saxon."
Chapter 4
What did one wear on a sisterly surveillance mission? Juliet wondered as she looked over the contents of her wardrobe a half hour before Caine was due to arrive. One would naturally dress up a bit to go to dinner at the Apple Country Inn, but was this an actual dinner date? Caine had offered to buy her a bowl of strawberry soup at some unspecified future date, but he hadn't mentioned dinner tonight.
Juliet pondered the question before finally selecting a silky royal blue dress with a jewel neck, dolman sleeves, and full skirt. It must be a dinner date, she decided. Unless Caine planned for them to lurk outside and spy on Grant and Miranda through a window. She glanced out her own window at the rain pouring down. No, they wouldn't be lurking outside in this weather. The sky was already dark and the rain showed no signs of abating. The National Weather Service had predicted severe thunderstorms for tonight. It wasn't the best weather for a romantic evening, Juliet thought with a frown. Not that she was planning to indulge in one, of course, but Randi and Grant needed all the help they could get.
With a small sigh, Juliet slipped into a pair of high-heeled black pumps and affixed dangling blue and silver earrings to her earlobes before starting to apply her makeup.
"Julie?" Olivia burst into the room, carrying a saucepan and a spoon. "Taste this. What's it missing?"
Juliet sampled a spoonful of the thick, green, pasty looking liquid.
"What's it supposed to be?"
"Cream of artichoke and avocado soup. I'm kind of making it up as I go along. I thought it might be an interestingly different appetizer to serve at the Friends of Mr. Jefferson Lawn and Garden Club luncheon. What do you think?"
"I think this is too interestingly different, Liwy." Juliet handed her sister the spoon.
"It's that awful, huh? Should I throw the whole batch away?"
Juliet grinned. "Unless you can get Bobby Lee to eat it."
A bolt of lightning flashed in the sky and both sisters went to the window to stare at the rain. It seemed to be getting heavier. A sharp crack of thunder sounded in the distance.
"I'm worried about Randi driving into the mountains in this rain," Olivia said, frowning. "I wish the Apple Country Inn wasn't so far out on 250. ..." Her voice trailed off as she continued to watch the rain.
"If Randi doesn't feel like driving up there tonight, we can always reschedule the reconciliation," Juliet said. "Do you think she suspected anything when we sent her on those errands tonight?" They'd had to come up with a reason to get Randi out of the house before Caine arrived at seven-fifteen, and had concocted a list of errands, culminating in the trip to the Apple Country Inn.
"She was too preoccupied to suspect a thing." Olivia sighed. "Poor Randi. Oh, I hope it works out for her and Grant tonight."
"Me too."
"Julie, what about you and Caine Saxon?"
Juliet's cheeks pinked. "He's as concerned about Grant as we are about Randi, Liwy."
Olivia raised her brows. "I see. And that's all there is between you? This mutual concern for his brother and our sister?"
Juliet avoided her sister's eyes. "Uh-huh."
Olivia laughed. "If you say so, Julie. But you look absolutely terrific tonight and I think you're going to bowl Caine Saxon over."
"There have been so many women in his life, Liwy. You've seen the pictures on the walls of The Knight Out. Beauty-contest winners, actresses, models. There's no way I could bowl him over." Juliet's voice was unconsciously wistful, and Olivia stared at her sister.
"Julie, Bobby Lee thinks that Caine Saxon is trying to get you into bed."
"We've all read about Charlottesville's famous, professional-league lover boy, Liwy. Caine Saxon tries to get every woman he meets into bed. He isn't going to succeed with me," she said succinctly.
Olivia's blue eyes sparkled. "Bobby told me to tell you to hold out for a ring. Like Randi and I did."
"Tell Bobby Lee that he's becoming as fiendishly scheming as Sophia Saxon!" Juliet picked up the small stuffed Siamese cat that sat on her dresser and threw it at her sister. Olivia ducked, and the cat hit the wall and landed upside down on a chair.
"I feel as fiendishly scheming as Sophia Saxon myself," Olivia said with a sudden frown. "Making up that list of errands for Randi, sending her out to a remote country inn in the middle of a terrible storm. Do you really think we're doing the right thing, Julie?"
Juliet sighed. "I hope so, Liwy. We'll know tonight, I suppose."
There was a sudden, hard rap at the front door. "Caine!" Juliet's stomach lurched as her heart did a triple somersault in her chest. She forced herself to take a deep, calming breath. "Liwy, will you answer the door?" She needed another few minutes to compose herself.
"While you pull yourself together?" Olivia cast her sister a knowing look.
Juliet smiled sheepishly. It was difficult, if not impossible, for any of the triplets to hide their emotions from the others. They'd been too close for too long.
Juliet waited at the top of the stairs as Olivia opened the door to Caine. "Hi, Caine!" Olivia greeted him cheerfully.
"Hi, uh . . ." Caine hesitated, and Juliet smiled to herself. Caine didn't know which sister Olivia was. That unnerved him, she knew. Her smile broadened as she remembered his indignant diatribe the time she'd pretended to be Miranda. Caine Saxon liked to keep the players straight on his game card.
Bolstered by her amusement, she started down the steps. And halted midway to stare at Caine. He was wearing jeans, sneakers, and a gray hooded sweat shirt, she saw in dismay. He must have planned to lurk, after all! And she was dreadfully overdressed for it.
Caine was
staring at Olivia, who was wearing jeans and a pink and white striped sweater. Juliet's mind went into overdrive. She didn't want Caine to think that she'd dressed up for him, that she'd thought this was a real dinner date, their first date. Never mind that she had. She didn't want him to know it!
"Sissy," she called to Olivia, using the childhood name the three sisters had used interchangeably among themselves. Olivia looked up at her in surprise. They hadn't used the old nickname in years. "I need you upstairs for a minute," Juliet continued. She could quickly change into Liwy's jeans and sweater and come back down and Caine would never know the difference. He would think it had been Olivia on the stairs in the blue dress.
Before Olivia could move Caine walked to the foot of the staircase and peered up at Juliet. Their eyes met for just a moment before Juliet quickly looked away. Caine started up the stairs, his amber eyes never leaving her. "Hello, Juliet."
He knew her! Juliet's heart turned over in her chest. No one but their parents and Bobby Lee Taggert and Grant Saxon had ever learned—or bothered to learn—to tell the triplets apart. But Caine Saxon had correctly identified her twice.
"You look beautiful tonight," he said huskily. His warm gaze seemed to caress her, and Juliet allowed herself to bask in that warmth until the thrill of his recognition was replaced by the realization that he knew she'd taken special care to dress just for him.
She flushed, and glanced down at her dress and his jeans, and then caught Liwy's eye.
There were times when the triplets were so attuned to each other that an unspoken communication existed between them. This moment was such a time.
"Julie is dressed up because she has a date later tonight," Olivia said, her eyes meeting Juliet's. The message had been received and acted upon. "As soon as she gets back from this . . . er, spying expedition of yours."
"A date?" Caine frowned. He tore his gaze from Juliet, startled by the sudden vehemence that surged through him. He hated the idea of Juliet with another man, and the fact that he did alarmed him. He had never been the jealous type. And these primitive, possessive feelings surging through him were new to him too.
"With who?" he heard himself ask.
"I'm sure you don't know him," Juliet interjected quickly.
"Mark Walsh, one of our neighbors, an assistant math professor at the university," Olivia said. She smiled, quite pleased with her inventiveness.
Caine frowned. "That name sounds familiar. ..."
"Liwy, don't you have some cream of artichoke and avocado soup to make?" Juliet prompted. The sooner they dropped the subject of her mythical date, the better.
"Oh! Yes, I guess I do." Olivia drifted off, with a final glance at her sister.
"So who is this jerk you dressed up for?" Caine asked with a scowl. "When did you make this date? I don't know when we'll be back, you know."
Juliet's gaze flickered over him. "We won't be gone long. You obviously plan to sit in the car outside the Inn for a few minutes and then leave." She could tell by the way he'd dressed that he had planned to do just that. And she'd been foolish enough to dress up, as if this were an actual date! She flinched inwardly. Bless Liwy for coming up with that inspired notion of a later date.
"But I thought we'd go out for a drink afterward," Caine said. He did not look pleased.
There was a flash of lightning, instantaneously accompanied by a loud clap of thunder. "We'd better leave before the storm gets any worse," Juliet suggested. They stepped out onto the front porch and she opened her umbrella. A sudden gust of wind swirled the raindrops around them.
"Don't you have an umbrella?" she asked.
"No, I don't."
"Let me guess. Real men don't carry umbrellas?
It's so much more macho to get soaked, I suppose." She watched the relentless downpour of rain. "It's coming down in buckets. Would your machismo be greatly offended if I offered to share my umbrella with you?"
Caine stared at the driving rain. "I gratefully accept your kind offer, Juliet." He scooped her up in his arms and held her high against his chest. "You can hold it above both of us.
They were pelted by cold raindrops as Caine dashed to the car, but Juliet was suddenly impervious to the weather. Instead, she was breath-takingly aware of the strength in the arms that held her, of the hard breadth of his chest. They paused beside the car door, and she looked up to find him staring down at her.
Caine peered into the depths of her violet-blue eyes and felt the searing effect of her gaze flash through him. His mouth lowered slowly to hers, even as he silently protested to himself. It was absurd to want to kiss a woman while standing under an umbrella in the middle of a thunderstorm, but he couldn't stop himself.
"How did you know that it wasn't me who opened the door tonight?" she asked shakily. Her pulses were racing. She needed to put a brake on this crazy excitement he so effortlessly evoked in her and she sought to do so with conversation. "How did you know that it was me on the stairs?"
"No woman looks at me the way you do, Juliet." His face was close to hers and he continued to gaze into her soft blue eyes. "I don't think any woman ever has."
Juliet watched his head descend with a kind of fated submission. You shouldn't let him kiss you, her mind tried to insist. You don't want him to kiss you. But she didn't say a word.
His mouth brushed hers as her hand compulsively sought his face. Her fingertips traced his high cheekbones and the strong curve of his jaw while his lips nibbled softly at hers. And then, suddenly, it wasn't enough. She began to ache for something harder, something more demanding than those teasing, torturous little kisses.
"Caine." She whispered his name against his lips and tangled her fingers in his dark hair.
"What do you want, little rain witch?" His voice was thick with desire, sensuous with triumph. He decided that she had cast a spell over him, and it no longer seemed absurd to be kissing in the rain. But her spell had rebounded—he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her, and the realization was enormously pleasing.
"I want you to kiss me . . . hard," she said, her eyes dark with hunger.
"Oh, Juliet," he said, his voice raspy. "You'd better watch what you ask for or—"
"I may get it?" Juliet finished enticingly. "Oh, Caine, I hope so!"
She clutched his head and held it to hers, opening her mouth under his, tempting, teasing, deepening the kiss with an ardent expertise she had never dreamed she possessed. She was dizzy with excitement, out of her head with the passion flaring between them in this dark, rainswept night.
"I beg your pardon," a voice intruded, "but unless you're conducting some kind of experiment by using yourselves as a lightning rod, I would advise you both to get in out of the rain."
Caine lifted his head at the sound of the flat, slightly nasal voice. Juliet stared dazedly at the man who stood beside them, clutching a black umbrella. He was at least six or seven inches shorter than Caine.
"Mark!" she gasped, half wondering if he were an apparition. She was still somewhat lost in the hazy throes of passion. "Wh—what are you doing here?"
"I'm on my way to your house to borrow some olive oil." Mark adjusted his glasses with one hand and his umbrella with the other. "Sherry needs it for the lasagna she's making for dinner tonight," he added rather proudly.
"Go on in, Mark," Juliet said. "Liwy's there, she'll give it to you."
Mark beamed. "Thanks, neighbor! And . . . er, seriously, you shouldn't be standing out here with all this lightning. There's been a tornado watch issued for Albemarle and Fluvanna counties until midnight tonight."
"He's right, of course," Caine said, his voice still husky with unslaked desire. The sound of it sent sensuous shivers along Juliet's every nerve ending. He opened the car door and set her in the front bucket seat, then raced around the car to join her inside.
They rode in silence to the Charlottesville city limits. Juliet was thoroughly disconcerted by their passionate interlude in the rain. Once again she'd lost all control, all sense of
timing and place, when Caine had taken her into his arms. I could make your head spin in bed, Juliet. The words he'd spoken yesterday echoed softly, tauntingly in her brain. He could make her head spin anywhere, she acknowledged nervously.
She cast a covert glance at him. What was he thinking? That she was hot and hungry for him? She feared he had good reason to think just that. Any woman who went wild in the middle of a tornado watch could certainly be considered an easy score.
And Caine Saxon kept score! His scoreboard was the wall of his restaurant, where his conquests were framed and hung. He'd carried the notion of notches on the bedpost to new heights! Not her, Juliet promised herself. She was not joining that rogue's gallery. She'd always been one of a crowd, but—
"Now I remember!"
Caine's exclamation cut in on her reverie.
He was smiling broadly. "Mark Walsh! He's your neighbor, the one you introduced to Sherry Carson, Channel 42's weather girl. And he has a date with Sherry tonight. He's borrowing olive oil for the lasagna she's cooking for him."
"It sounds promising," Juliet said thoughtfully. "I hope so. Mark is such a nice man, but he's very shy. I know he's been lonely."
"Nice, shy, lonely guy, huh? With two dates for tonight?"
"What do you mean?" And then she remembered. Olivia had told Caine that Juliet had a date with Mark Walsh tonight.
Caine remembered too. "Why did your sister tell me you had a date with Walsh tonight?"
"She was trying to be fiendishly scheming, like your sister," Juliet retorted.
"Uh-oh, I recognize a defensive play when I see one. I'm throwing down the penalty flag, honey. No personal fouls allowed."
"Will you kindly translate? I've made it a point to know as little about football as possible."
"You'll love the game after I've explained it to you. Now, leaving both of our sisters out of it, what's this about a date with Walsh tonight?"
Trouble In Triplicate Page 5
