by Sara Orwig
She looked up, discovering him watching her. She must have realized what she’d been doing, because she dropped the braid and her cheeks flushed as she turned to study the water.
They spent the morning with the boys; she could see Chris and Josh warm to Cal like flowers to sunshine. Only Quin remained quietly withdrawn, but it was so typical of him that she accepted it.
That night, Cal grilled burgers and they played ball, again recruiting Stoddard while Gladys sat on the porch step to cheer them on. Red sat beside her and she scratched his ears. And all through the game, Juliana kept recalling the game the week before and the time spent with Cal afterward, the kisses they had shared. She found herself looking forward to the night with a longing that surprised and worried her. She didn’t want to look forward to being with him.
Later, when they finally were alone, as they sat on the porch and talked, he reached over to take her hand again, drawing his fingers over hers. “You’re damned good with the boys.”
“Thank you. I love them,” she said, aware of Cal’s fin- gers lightly skimming over the back of her hand, then the inside of her wrist, down over her fingers. “You’re pretty good with them yourself.”
He shrugged. “I told you, I was one once. I’m sharing with them what I like to do.”
“You’re sharing yourself with them.”
“I hope so,” he answered solemnly. “I grew up with a man who wasn’t a good father.”
Startled, she stared at Cal. “You were abused?”
“Not physically, but my father was not the ideal dad. That’s all long ago and we get along fine now. I got over my resentment and anger and we have a fair relationship. As fair as it can get with a man who keeps things bottled up in- side.”
“You do a little of that yourself.”
“I have no intention of holding back from you,” he said softly and his voice changed, giving her a tiny thrill. Thun- der rumbled in the distance.
“A storm’s brewing,” she said.
His hand slid up her arm and he turned toward her as he moved his hand behind her head, his fingers stroking her nape. Juliana inhaled, everything within her tightening in expectation while she was torn between wanting him and trying to avoid getting involved.
“Yeah, it is,” he said in that same husky tone that con- veyed his mind was on them, not the coming storm. “A fire storm that’s about to burn me to a cinder,” he whispered, turning his chair to face her and spreading his legs, to pull her chair between them. He leaned forward and drew her closer by a faint pressure against the back of her head.
“Cal, we agreed—”
His lips brushed hers and the slight kiss made her insides clench. “Shh, Juliana. You’re ready for kissing,” he whis- pered. “You’re a warm, passionate woman and we have something special here. I feel it and I know you do, too.”
Her pulse pounded from his words, his mouth, his kisses that sparked into flames. An inner voice screamed warn- ings that fell unheeded because his mouth was so tantaliz- ing.
With a scrape of his chair, Cal shifted and picked her up as he kissed her, lifting her to his lap. Her protest was muf- fled, taken by his mouth over hers. Then her words van- ished as she moaned softly and wrapped her arms around his neck. His strong arms tightened as he pulled her close, cradling her against his shoulder.
Thunder boomed, a dim sound over the roaring of her pulse and warnings flashed in her mind like lightning streaks dancing over the yard, but she turned a deaf ear to them. His kisses made her feel desirable again.
While he held her, Cal fought an inner battle. He knew he needed to leave her alone. He didn’t want a cozy marriage because he intended to walk away from Juliana and the boys when the year was over. But all the time he reminded him- self of this, he was on fire from her kisses.
Her tongue played over his, as aggressively stroking his mouth as his stroked hers. Her hips moved against him and her soft moans made him shake. He slid his hand along her slender throat, down over her T-shirt, feeling her full breast, the taut bud. He slipped his hand beneath the shirt, listen- ing to her gasp. The moment he cupped the soft weight of her breast in his hand, she arched against him, crying with need, her fingers biting into his shoulder.
His hard length was between them and every shift of her hips against him made him ache with need for release. He pushed up the T-shirt and shoved aside the scrap of lace, cupping her breast and taking her nipple into his mouth to flick his tongue over the rosy peak.
Juliana cried softly as pleasure streaked through her. She remembered her resolutions about him, finally wriggling away, pushing against his chest and sitting up on his lap while she gasped for breath. She turned to look at him, framing his face with her hands. “I can’t take an affair. I was hurt badly before and I don’t want to go through that again. When the year is up, you’ll leave us.” She stopped, waiting to see if he would deny it. Seconds ticked past and she knew his answer. “I can’t do this,” she whispered and started to move away.
His arms tightened around her, holding her on his lap. “What are we hurting? A few kisses won’t do anything,” Cal said and she stared at him.
“A few of your kisses can do plenty,” she answered breathlessly and saw his eyes narrow. “No. I won’t be drawn into an affair. If you’re leaving us at the end of the year, then we have to keep distance between us until the moment we part. I have to!”
Cal suspected that if he wrapped his arms around her and ignored her arguments for one full minute, he could get her to toss them aside. But she was right and he knew it. He wanted her, but only temporarily. He didn’t want a lasting marriage with an instant family. And when she learned the truth about him, she might not want to be married, either. Andrea had broken their engagement the moment he con- fessed the truth to her and he always said he would never make himself vulnerable to that kind of hurt again.
So a future together was hopelessly impossible, but why not take what joy they could?
“Okay,” he said quietly, trailing his fingers over her nape and hearing her intake of breath. “No affair, but kisses and a few caresses won’t hurt. Surely you don’t want—” he leaned forward to pull her to him to kiss her throat “—to go a whole year without being kissed, do you?”
Juliana felt besieged as he trailed kisses along her throat and pulled her down against his shoulder. “Kisses lead to affairs,” she whispered.
“Ours won’t,” he answered as his mouth covered hers and prevented her from replying.
Anger flared that he was riding roughshod over her ar- guments. Then her resistance melted in his hot kisses that she couldn’t, and didn’t, want to stop.
In minutes, she pushed away and stood. “You’re a per- sistent, enticing threat to my well-being. I’m going up to bed.”
He got to his feet and placed his hand on her hip, his touch so light, yet it held her and kept her from going in- side. “It’s only kisses. Relax and enjoy life, the way you do out there playing ball.”
He draped his arm across her shoulders and they headed for the kitchen. He locked the door and they moved through the house in silence.
Juliana was aware of him at her side, her nerves taut, need burning fiercely in her, a need that she wanted to bank and smother. His kisses were waking her, storming her senses and warping her judgment. They paused in front of her bedroom door.
“I’m not inviting you inside. Good night, Cal.”
He tilted up her face and brushed her mouth lightly with a kiss and then walked away down the darkened hall.
She watched him, her lips still tingling, her body aching with longing, and she knew that all the reminders for cau- tion probably were futile. She was in close daily contact with him, living under the same roof; there was no way to stop Cal from becoming important in her life. And maybe he wasn’t quite as invincible and solitary as he imagined.
She entered her room and closed the door, realizing that not only was she going to be unable to avoid falling in love with him, she might
have already started losing her heart.
Eight
Juliana stopped back at the house during work the next day to pick up a briefcase she had forgotten that morning. Mimi was at Green Oaks for the day to visit with the boys, and Juliana stood talking to her in the doorway of the family room.
“The boys seem happier than anytime since they lost their parents, Juliana,” she said. “Even little Quinton is a bit more communicative.”
“I hear him talking to Snookums often. He hasn’t warmed up to Cal yet, but Josh and Chris have. Cal’s a wonderful influence on them.”
“And on you. You’re glowing.”
Juliana felt her face flush. “I don’t think it’s because of Cal. There are other reasons to glow now.”
“I know he’s good for you,” Mimi said. “You be good to him, Juliana.”
Juliana laughed. “I don’t think you need to worry about Cal Duncan’s welfare.”
“Gladys told me how Elnora worried about him being so alone. Elnora was the perfect matchmaker. This is a match made in heaven.”
“It’s hardly that. It was made in a lawyer’s office with a bundle of money.”
Just then, Gladys appeared, bringing a tray with hot tea. Mimi smiled at Gladys. “Thank you. Isn’t this a marriage made in heaven, Gladys? Isn’t this a wonderful arrange- ment?”
Juliana suspected that Mimi and Gladys had had this conversation before, as Gladys glanced at her and smiled with as much satisfaction as Mimi. “Yes, ma’am. It’s good to have a family in this house and have children under the roof. This big house was meant for a family…Miz Elnora knew what she was doing.”
Juliana heard an engine and turned to look through the oval glass in the front door. A bright red pickup drove up and stopped in front. A tall jean-clad man climbed out and walked toward the house. Stoddard emerged from the kitchen and headed to the door, reaching it just as the bell rang.
“There’s some man here,” Juliana said, curious about him, unable to hear what he was saying to Stoddard or Stoddard to him. “I better get back to work. I’ll see you this afternoon.”
“Juliana, you should consider selling your preschool and staying home with the boys,” Mimi told her.
With a smile, Juliana turned to her grandmother. “They have you and Gladys and Stoddard now. You’re here often and when you’re not, Gladys and Stoddard are wonderful with them.”
“I’d wondered who to thank for the change in their manners.”
“Mimi!” Juliana said, wondering if she had failed in that department, but aware that Stoddard was instilling a degree of courtesy in all three boys that they hadn’t shown be- fore.
“You did a fine job. Stoddard just has certain expecta- tions in that area and the boys seem to be trying to please him. I don’t know what hold he has over them. Gladys is the one who bakes cookies for them.”
“Stoddard plays ball with them,” Juliana remarked.
“He is also teaching Chris the fundamentals of driving the Cadillac.”
“Chris is too young to drive!” Juliana said, shocked that Stoddard would be doing such a thing without permission.
“You know Stoddard isn’t going to let the boy actually take the wheel,” Mimi said. “Don’t mention it to him. Stoddard would never do anything to put any of the chil- dren at risk.”
“That’s the truth,” Juliana stated, realizing she should have known Stoddard wouldn’t allow Chris to actually drive. “I’ll see you tonight, Mimi.” As she walked down the hall, she thought about how much better life had become for her nephews. Gladys and Stoddard had won them over im- mediately—and they had won Gladys’s and Stoddard’s al- legiance, too. They had Mimi visit often and now they had Cal giving them attention. And he was a strong man who was a role model for them, whether he wanted to be or not. She had noticed that Josh had gone to Cal’s room the last three mornings to talk to him while Cal shaved and dressed. Josh was beginning to tag around behind Cal like a shadow.
She headed toward the front as Stoddard closed the door and turned to go to the kitchen.
“Was that man selling something?”
“No, ma’am,” Stoddard replied. “He’s from Whittaker Construction. Mr. Duncan asked him to come out to look over the house and outbuildings.”
“Why is he looking at them?” she asked, going cold and remembering Cal’s promise that he would discuss it with her before he did anything to the house.
“Since Mr. Duncan had made arrangements with the man, I didn’t ask,” Stoddard replied in his best I-will-not- question-the-lord-of-the-manor voice.
“Mr. Duncan would like to tear down this house and re- build,” she remarked darkly.
“Good heavens! Tear down Green Oaks?” Stoddard ex- claimed, his mouth dropping open.
“I’ll be outside,” she said, hurrying through the front door. The man was nowhere to be seen, but his truck was still on the driveway so she went around the corner of the house. Cal’s black pickup was parked in front of the ga- rage, but no one was in sight. Then, beyond the garage, Ju- liana spotted the man bending down at a corner of the carriage house.
As she crossed the lawn, she watched him taking mea- surements and her anger soared because he had suspi- ciously come at a time when she would normally be at work and wouldn’t have known anything about him.
“Can I help you?” she called.
He turned around to face her and closed up the tape measure. “I’m Leon Whittaker. Your husband called me about changes here.”
“What kind of changes?” she asked, her anger mush- rooming.
“Don’t know. I’m to give him estimates on redoing, tearing down.” He fished in his jeans pocket to withdraw a card. “Here. I’m in business with my brothers,” he said as he placed the card in her hand. She glanced down at it.
“This old building is structurally unsound,” he said, patting the wall of the carriage house. “It’s near collapse and should be torn down.”
“We do not want anything torn down,” she said evenly, trying to hold her temper, knowing he wasn’t the one who should bear the brunt of her anger.
His eyes narrowed as he studied her. “Would you rather I check again with Mr. Duncan? Perhaps after you’ve dis- cussed this?”
“Yes, I would.”
“You don’t want me to look at the house?”
“No, I don’t. Thank you, anyway.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he said, turning to gather his tools and stride back to his truck. Juliana fumed as she crossed the lawn and entered the house to go call Cal’s office. He had married to get the inheritance. Now did he want a showcase house, too? Did he want to rebuild Green Oaks into some- thing new and palatial? He was grasping and greedy and untrustworthy, going back on his promise before the month was out. She jabbed the buttons and listened to the phone ring twice before his receptionist answered.
“This is Mrs. Duncan,” Juliana replied evenly. “May I speak to Mr. Duncan, please.”
“He’s on his way back from an appointment,” came his receptionist’s cheerful voice. “I just talked to him on his car phone.”
“I’ll call him, thanks,” Juliana said, and called the cel- lular phone number.
In seconds, she heard his bass voice saying hello.
“Cal, this is Juliana. I need to see you. I have an ap- pointment at ten-thirty at the preschool and it should take an hour.”
“Good. I’ll pick you up for lunch.”
“I’ll meet you.”
“Is something wrong?” he asked, the tone of his voice becoming solemn.
“We’ll discuss it when we’re together, not over the phone.”
“Come by my office and we’ll go to lunch. You’ve never seen my office.”
“Fine. I’ll be there at noon.” That suited her because it would give her a chance to talk to him in private.
* * *
At noon, Juliana entered the small brick building on Main Street that held the law office of Caleb J. Duncan. She pushed open the glass d
oor and a dark-haired woman sit- ting behind a wide, wooden desk looked up and smiled.
“May I help you?”
“I’m Mrs. Duncan. I have a noon appointment.”
“I’m Sandy Matthews, Mrs. Duncan. It’s so nice to meet you.”
Juliana smiled in return, wondering if he had dated his beautiful receptionist.
“He said to tell you to come in. He’s expecting you,” she said with a wave of her hand toward the door.
Juliana looked over to see Cal lounging in the doorway, his shoulder propped against the jamb. Juliana wondered how long he had been standing there watching her. “Ju- liana, this is Sandy,” he said.
“We just met,” she answered, giving Sandy another smile, her anger rising at the jump in her pulse when she’d found him watching her. He was wearing his charcoal suit and a white shirt with a narrow, dark stripe. He looked breathtakingly handsome. He straightened and motioned to her. “Come in.”
She moved ahead of him around the corner and along a short hall.
“Straight ahead,” he said from behind her and her back tingled because she knew he had to be watching her. She passed the open door to a room on her right. She glimpsed a room with shelves of law books and a long table with chairs in the center. She went ahead through an open door into a spacious oak-paneled office with beige drapes and carpeting. He closed the door and leaned against it.
“What’s wrong?”
She turned around and wished he wasn’t so damnably appealing. She remembered her first impression of him as handsome and dangerous. He seemed doubly dangerous to her well-being now because she was finding him irresistible while all good sense told her not to. She thought about the purpose of her visit.
“You promised me you wouldn’t do anything to the house without discussing it first,” she said abruptly. “You in- tended to go right ahead and tear down Green Oaks with- out telling me. You know I wanted honesty from you!”
