Trouble In Triplicate

by Barbara Boswell

  There would be no whining or crying or jealous tantrum, he thought. Her determined smile confirmed it. He knew that she had deliberately put aside the hurt, the doubts, and the jealousy. He was filled with admiration for her, with love. He wanted her to believe in him, the way he believed in her.

  "Spend the day with me, Juliet." It was more of a command than a request. "Tonight too. Grant can fill in at the restaurant."

  "I'd like to," she said.

  "Are you hungry?" He swung his legs over the edge of the bed. He wanted to make love to her again, but the untimely phone call had effectively shattered the mood. There would be time for more lovemaking later, he consoled himself. Right now it was imperative to erase the faint traces of sadness from her beautiful blue eyes.

  "A little." She stared up at him, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of his nude body. It was rugged and muscular, without an ounce of fat, his broad chest covered with a mat of wiry dark hair. She looked at his long, powerful legs, his strong arms and big hands, and felt a shiver of desire ripple through her. He was so beautiful, she thought dizzily. His body was a natural work of art that put all those marble statues in museums to shame.

  He caught her staring and grinned. "Like what you see?"

  She blushed. "You weren't supposed to see me looking."

  He stroked her flushed cheek with his fingers. "I want you to look at me, Juliet." He suddenly lifted her from the bed and set her on her feet. "And I want you to like what you see," he added irrepressibly.

  Taking her by the hand, he pulled her toward the bathroom. "You may only be a little hungry, but I'm starving, woman. Let's take a quick shower and go out to lunch."

  "Lunch?"

  "It's past noon."

  "Past noon?" She gasped. "Why, I've never slept this late in my life!"

  "You never spent a night like last night, either," he drawled. "And now you're about to take your first shower with a man." He drew her against him and ran his hands over her soft body. "You're doing a lot of things you've never done before, Juliet." His mouth took hers in a long, lingering kiss. "And I'm glad you're doing them with me. Only me."

  Under the driving stream of water in the shower stall they soaped each other with incredible thoroughness, not missing a single curve or crevice or an inch of skin. Laughing, Juliet wrapped her arms around Caine's neck and pressed her soap-slicked body into his. His arms came around to hold her firmly against him.

  "You're as slippery as a greased pig," he said, sliding his hands over her.

  "A greased pig!" she howled, drawing back to glare at him.

  "Sorry, that was the first thing that came to mind."

  "Your imagery leaves a lot to be desired, Saxon. I thought all you wolf-playboys had a whole repertoire of stock romantic phrases that covered all occasions."

  "Oh, we do. And when I'm being a wolf-playboy I use them." He grew suddenly serious as he gazed down at her. "But I'm not playing any kind of role with you, Juliet. When we're together I'm strictly being myself." He ran his fingers through her short, wet hair. "You're special, Juliet."

  She hugged him tight. "That's the nicest thing you could ever say to me." It was, too, for when had she alone ever been special to anyone? She and Miranda and Olivia were special together as a set of triplets, but without her identical siblings, Juliet considered herself something of a nonentity.

  Had Grant and Bobby Lee made Randi and Liwy feel unique and special and utterly original? she wondered. The way Caine made her feel? Not even their parents had been able to accomplish that, although the sisters didn't blame them for it. Having their first child born when they were both in their mid-forties—and turn out to be triplets!— had been a stunning shock to both Professors Post. They'd raised the girls as a single unit, but with an abundance of love.

  "You look so lost in thought," Caine said softly. "What are you thinking, love?"

  Juliet wanted to tell him that she loved him. but the words that had come so easily in the intimacy of the bedroom were somehow difficult to say in this tender, special moment. She didn't want Caine to feel that she was pressuring him to return the words, that she was taking advantage of the gentle mood between them to wring a declaration of love for him.

  "I'm thinking that you're very special, too, Caine Saxon." It was as close as she dared to come to telling him how very much he meant to her. "And that I'm glad I'm here with you."

  It was a revelation to discover that he had a streak of old-fashioned romantic traditionalism ingrained in him, Caine thought wryiy, as he held

  Juliet's warm, wet body close. He could tell her he loved her and propose right now—the atmosphere of tender intimacy was certainly right—but he envisioned the moment complete with candlelight and soft music and champagne. When he and Juliet told their children how Daddy had proposed to Mommy he didn't want to have to say it was in the shower!

  The notion of their children, their life together, exhilarated him. "I'm glad you're here with me, too, little one," he said. His amber eyes alight, he lifted her off her feet and held her above him for a moment before letting her slide slowly down the length of his body. "There's no one else I'd rather shower with."

  "No one else? Not even the Pittsburgh Steelers?" Her bright blue eyes teased him. "I thought you jocks had such a great time together in the locker room, snapping each other with towels, making anatomical comparisons, and the like."

  Caine directed the shower nozzle over them, and the warm water sluiced their bodies, washing the soap suds away. "I'd rather make anatomical comparisons with you, Juliet."

  He pulled her into his arms and they kissed and kissed, and Caine was on the verge of chucking romantic tradition and proposing right there in the shower stall—they could make up some suitable tale for the kids—when Juliet broke away from him with a grin.

  "Poor Caine. You are starving, aren't you?"

  He stared at her, dazed.

  "Your stomach's growling." She reached up and turned off the taps. "We'd better get you some food before you collapse from hunger."

  He groaned. There was something dismally unromantic about a growling stomach. He certainly didn't want his one and only marriage proposal linked with it. He would have to revert to his original plan, back to the soft lights and music and the diamond ring floating in a glass of iced champagne. ...

  ❧

  It was one of those October days that seemed more like summer than fall, and when Juliet spied the swimming pool in Caine's backyard, she decided that she wanted to spend the afternoon in it.

  They bought cheeseburgers—two for Caine, one for Juliet—fries, and shakes at the drive-through window of a restaurant, stopped by the Post house for Juliet to pick up her swimsuit, then had lunch on the screened-in porch overlooking the pool.

  The water was heated, making the transition from dry to wet an easy one. Both Caine and Juliet were strong swimmers, and they swam a few laps for the sheer fun of it before challenging each other to races. Caine won at freestyle and breaststroke, but Juliet beat him badly at backstroke.

  "Show-off," he grumbled as she hung, grinning, on to the side of the pool while waiting for him to join her. "How did such a little thing like you get such a strong stroke, anyway?"

  "Race you again? Backstroke," she challenged.

  "Forget it. My ego is already in shreds." He reached out and pulled her to him, lifting her up so that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "But I'll let you make it up to me."

  "And how shall I do that?"

  His fingers slipped beneath the straps of her modestly cut black and yellow maillot. "By taking off your suit and swimming nude?"

  "Not a chance, Saxon."

  "No?" He nibbled sensuously on her shoulder. "I think I have a damn good chance, Juliet." His hands closed over her bottom and began to knead with strong fingers.

  The desire that spun through her was heightened by the provocative position in which he was holding her. The feel of his wet, hair-r
oughened skin against her added another sensual dimension. Juliet exhaled on a moan as his lips and tongue teased the sensitive curve of her neck. She wanted him.

  It was awesome, this power he held over her. He could make her want him with a look, a touch, a few huskily spoken words. The awareness of her vulnerability to this man unnerved her. She didn't want to be controlled by anyone. She was her own person with a mind and will of her own. A separate person.

  "Take it off, sweet," Caine breathed against her ear. "Take off your swimsuit for me. I want you, Juliet."

  "Now?" She gulped. "Right here, in the water?"

  He laughed deeply, sexily. "Yes, my little innocent. Right here in the water."

  It would be so easy to do as he asked. The newly awakened, passionate woman within her was hungry for him—and curious too! But the need to assert her independence was stronger.

  "You'll have to put me down first," she whispered. "So I can pull it off." Had Caine been looking into her eyes, he would have seen the unholy gleam that suddenly lit them. But his own eyes were riveted to the sight of her erect nipples, straining against the slick material of her swimsuit.

  The moment Caine set her on her feet, Juliet used the heel of her hand to blind him with a splash of water, then took off in a fast and frantic backstroke. In the few seconds it took for him to gather his scattered wits, she was halfway across the pool. But when he did come after her, it was in an amazingly swift freestyle stroke that enabled him to reach the side of the pool in time to snatch her ankle as she was trying to climb out of the water.

  "I beat you again. I won!" Juliet was laughing triumphantly as she tried to kick out of Caine's grasp. Her momentary internal civil war was over. She'd won that too.

  But Caine held on fast, his fingers locked around her slender ankle like a manacle. "I'm not laughing, Juliet. I don't like what you did."

  She cast one glance at his stormy eyes and her laughter abruptly ceased. "You're angry because I beat you across the pool?" she asked, deliberately obtuse.

  "That has nothing to do with it ... as you well know." k

  She didn't care for his tone of voice. "Caine, let go of my ankle."

  "No."

  She gave a forceful but useless kick. He continued to hang onto her ankle. Her own temper began to flare. "Are you angry because I didn't strip and—and have sex with you the moment you demanded?"

  His smile was hard. "Maybe."

  "I suppose that Sherry Carson and all your other playmates would have whipped off their suits and jumped on top of you."

  "Probably. They weren't the least bit prudish. Or childish either."

  Juliet felt a rush of pure fury surge through her veins. "Like I am?"

  He shrugged, let go of her ankle, and hoisted himself out of the pool. "You said it, I didn't." He walked toward the house, pausing to call over his shoulder, "Enjoy your swim, Juliet. You have the pool all to yourself."

  "Good!" she flung after him, and spent the next twenty minutes swimming laps at near Olympic speed. When she finally climbed out of the pool and collapsed on a nearby chaise longue her heart was hammering and her breathing was labored from the strenuous exercise. She lay there for a while, until her pulse rate subsided and she was sure that she wasn't about to have a cardiac arrest.

  "I brought you a glass of wine." Caine stood above her, a glass of white wine in his hand. He was dressed in cutoff jeans and an old Steelers T-shirt.

  "We childish prudes don't drink wine," she said. "Bring me chocolate milk."

  He sat down on the chaise alongside her outstretched legs. "I didn't call you a childish prude, Juliet."

  "The inference was certainly there, Saxon."

  "I was . . . irritated."

  "To say the least."

  "Okay, I was made as hell at you. I wanted you and you splashed water in my face and took off, laughing. I realize that you're inexperienced, Juliet, but take it from me, such tactics are never appreciated."

  "I'll keep that in mind," she said stiffly, fighting a sudden urge to burst into tears. "Anything else?"

  "One more thing. Stop dragging other women into our relationship. No more cracks about my past playmates, as you so bitchily put it. What's past is past, Juliet. There is no one now but you and me." He ran his hand lightly along the length of her leg, and his tone lightened. "I was watching you swim. That was quite a workout you put yourself through. Ever thought of swimming the English Channel?"

  He handed her the glass, and this time she took it and sipped the wine. Her hand trembled. "You're not angry anymore?"

  He shook his head. "Are you?"

  She drank some more of the wine. It was pleasantly cool to the taste, yet left a trail of warmth within her. "No, I'm not angry."

  He smiled. "It looks like we've just survived our first lovers' quarrel."

  "Is that what it was?" She felt confused. "I didn't want to fight, Caine. I—wanted—" She broke off. What had she wanted? She'd wanted to make love, yet hadn't wanted to surrender herself to the sexual power he held over her. But she'd given him that power willingly. She loved him!

  Caine saw the confusion in her eyes and his voice softened. "It was just a lovers' quarrel, Juliet. Nothing more, nothing less. Two strong personalities are bound to strike sparks occasionally." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "Are we friends again?"

  She nodded. Caine turned her hand over and pressed his lips against her palm. She felt the effects of his touch deep in the very core of her.

  "And lovers?" He took the glass from her and set it on the ground, then drew her into his arms.

  "Oh, yes, Caine!" This time she made no attempt to fight the passion flowing through her. Deep within her there was a knot of desire twisted so tight that it hurt.

  He stood up and scooped her up in his arms. She clung to him. "Where are we going?"

  "To bed." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

  "No. I—I want to go back into the pool." She looked up at him and blushed. "In the water."

  "You don't have to, honey. You have nothing to prove. You're not prudish or childish simply because you prefer to make love in the bedroom."

  She cast him a mischievous glance. "How do I know what I prefer? I need to do some experimenting before I can accurately state a preference, Saxon."

  "Hmm, that's true. And you want to begin your research in the pool?"

  "In the pool," she affirmed. "Caine?" Her hand lovingly smoothed over his cheek. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier."

  "So am I, honey, but there's one positive aspect about fighting that you're about to learn." He smiled down at her, and there was a wealth of warmth and humor in his eyes. "Making up."

  Chapter 10

  The romantic idyll continued as afternoon turned into evening. They defrosted and cooked dinner— leftovers from The Knight Out's all-you-can-eat fried chicken special—played in the pool, and made love, sometimes slowly and tenderly, sometimes with a ferocious, passionate urgency, but always with loving satisfaction.

  It was rather like a honeymoon, Juliet mused as she lay languid and replete in Caine's arms. Just the two of them in their own private world, learning and teaching each other about themselves in a special atmosphere of emotional and physical intimacy. They talked late into the night, before finally falling asleep in each other's arms.

  The melodic but insistent chimes of the doorbell awakened them the next morning shortly after nine. Juliet was curled up against Caine and his arm was flung possessively over her. Their eyes met, and they gazed at each other and smiled.

  The doorbell sounded again. Caine glanced at the bedside clock, then at Juliet's sleep-flushed cheeks, and groaned. "Let's ignore it, honey. It's probably just some neighborhood kids selling something. If we don't answer the doorbell, they'll go away."

  "We hope," she murmured sleepily. He pulled her closer and she snuggled against him with a contented sigh. The chimes stopped a few moments later.

  "Looks like they took the hint,"
Caine said as he stroked Juliet's hair. He kissed her with a tenderness that quickly escalated into passion. "Darling,

  He never had a chance to complete his sentence. They both jumped as a barrage of pebbles hit the bedroom window.

  Caine sat up in bed like a shot. "What the hell—" He strode to the window, nude and incensed. Another shower of pebbles hit the window, and he cursed as he threw on a white toweling robe.

  "Hey, Caine!" a masculine voice called from outside. "I know you're in there. And we're not going away until you open the door! We have some good news for you."

  "Julie! We know you're in there too!" This time it was a feminine voice. "Open up and let us in!"

  "It's Randi!" Juliet said, hopping out of bed.

  "And Grant!"

  Caine and Juliet stared at each other for a moment before breaking into smiles.

  "They're together!" Caine yelled. He opened the curtains a crack and called out to the insistent visitors, "Okay, we hear you. Go around to the front and I'll let you in."

  Juliet snatched her canvas bag from the chair and hurried into the bathroom. "I'll get dressed and be right out."

  "To be continued, Juliet," he called after her as she closed the door.

  She smiled to herself. Yes, she and Caine would continue their interrupted interlude of loving after they'd heard Randi and Grant's good news. And she could guess what it was—after a torturous separation Miranda and Grant had reconciled at last!

  Juliet took a two-minute shower and pulled on a pair of cream-colored velour slacks and a matching top with a scoop neck and wide dolman sleeves. She ran a comb through her short dark hair and rushed out to the living room.

  Grant was sitting on the sofa with Miranda on his lap. The square-cut diamond engagement ring was back on her sister's finger, Juliet noted with relief. Caine, still in robe and bare feet, was uncorking a bottle of champagne.

  "Julie!" Miranda hopped off Grant's lap to hug her sister. "Everything is all right!" She flashed the diamond and grinned. "I finally worked up the courage to call Grant, and he came over this morning and we talked and—and we're going to be married, Julie!"