A Thrill to Remember (11 page)

Not good. Not good at all.

Meggie peeped up at Caleb again. He was still staring at her as if she were some ageless riddle he couldn’t quite decipher.

“Umm, delicious soup,” she said, although the soup could have been swamp water for all the flavor her taste buds registered.

“Excellent choice of restaurants.”

His comment sounded forced, or was she imagining things? Surely Caleb was no different than usual. He’d always been quiet, observant, contemplative. His steady, unwavering calmness was what she liked most about him.

Maybe guilt was causing her to read more into his expression than was there. She cringed, imagining what he would say if he knew she’d just had a two-night-stand with Don Juan. He would probably be as protective as her brother Quinn and want to beat the guy up.

Ack!

This was one of the reasons she no longer lived in Bear Creek. Too many people knew her too well and tried to run interference for her when life didn’t go her way.

But what was she saying? Life simply couldn’t be better. Thanks to Don Juan, she’d found herself again. She had nothing to be ashamed of and everything to be grateful for.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Caleb said.

“What?” She blinked.

The corner of his full mouth tipped up in a rueful grin. “You’ve been a thousand miles away. Is it the company?”

“Oh, no. I’m sorry.”

“Trouble at work?”

She shook her head.

“Come on, you can talk to me. This is your buddy Caleb.”

“It’s nothing. Honest. I was just woolgathering.”

“Okay. But if you ever need to talk…” He patted his shoulders. “These are pretty broad.”

“Thanks.” She smiled.

He was just the nicest guy. She was most definitely going to have to introduce him to Wendy. They both deserved someone special.

And right now Caleb deserved her undivided attention. Resolutely, she relegated all thoughts of Don Juan to a closet in her mind, stuffing him in there as her first skeleton.

She folded her hands one on top of the other. “So, tell me, how’s the wife search going?”

He shrugged. “I’ve given up on that.”

“Really? How come? That ad in Metropolitan worked wonders for Quinn and Mack and Jake.”

“Yeah, but you know me, Meggie. I need my space, and here were all these strange women crowding me. I couldn’t help but wonder if they wanted to be with me or with my money.”

“Oh. I keep forgetting you’re rich.”

“Well, you’re the only one.”

“Not all women are gold diggers.”

“Like my mother, you mean?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“No. You’re too nice to criticize. But I haven’t given up on the idea of getting married. I’ve just decided to let nature take its course. I’m not answering any more correspondence from the ad, and to tell you the truth, that’s why I accepted the lecturer position. I needed to get out of town.”

“Bear Creek can be kind of claustrophobic,” Meggie admitted with a laugh, “despite the wide expanse of geography.”

“Tell me about it.”

Caleb tilted his head and looked at her in the light through the stained-glass window. Her silky hair glistened darkly; her green eyes sparkled, verdant and alive. She was so pretty and seemed to have no idea how appealing she looked bare faced and smiling. No artifice, no disguises.

Son of a bear, if he didn’t ache to claim her right then and there, consequences be damned. He wanted to drive his fists into his thighs and bellow her name with such passion that every diner in the place would turn to stare at him. He wanted to wrap his hand around the nape of her neck and pull her across the table in a kiss so fierce it left no doubt what he needed from her. He wanted to jump to his feet, scoop her into his arms and carry her all the way back to Bear Creek like a caveman, a Viking, a marauding pirate.

Instead, he did the polite, civilized thing and lied through his teeth.

“You’ve got a little something there on the side of your mouth.” He pointed with his index finger.

“Oh?” She raised a hand to the right side of her mouth and brushed at the nonexistent particle.

“The other side.”

She dabbed a finger at the left side of her mouth. “Did I get it?”

“Allow me.” Caleb leaned across the table and gently swept his thumb along her lower lip.

The contact was electric.

Meggie’s eyes widened.

His heart thumped.

“Did you get it?” she whispered.

“Uh-huh.”

“That’s good.” She sank back against the vinyl booth safely out of his reach.

Damn. That was all he was going to get? One slight touch of her lips?

Not enough. Not nearly enough.

He had to take some kind of action to ensure he would see her often during his month-long stay in Seattle. He wanted Meggie to give him a chance. He wanted to see if he could spark the same feelings without benefit of that confounded disguise.

A simple plan came to him.

He told her about his trouble with the taxi driver who had taken him the long route to the hotel, how his briefcase had been stolen. He embellished the story, playing on her sympathies.

“I feel like such a small-town hick. I want to go sightseeing while I’m in Seattle, but I’m worried about making more mistakes and getting taken advantage of. I feel like a fish out of water.”

“You’re not as helpless as all that.” She laughed and the sound burst through him like a song.

“I am. I’m pathetic in the city.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I swear it. I get lost just crossing the street. Call me a backcountry boy, but I’ve spent my life with moose and bear and salmon and trees. I don’t know much about navigating traffic or getting the best deal at the fish market or how to spot a con artist. Come on, Megs. You gotta take pity on me. I’m begging you. I need someone savvy to show me the city or I’ll be stuck in my hotel room for a month.”

Her smile broadened. “Why, Caleb, that’s an excellent idea.”

“It is?” His heart soared and his grin matched hers.

“And have I got just the woman to escort you around town.”

He felt confused. Was she talking about herself? “You do?”

“Uh-huh. My best friend, Wendy. She’s in between jobs right now and she’d love to show you Seattle. Here, let me give you her phone number.”

MEGGIE RUMMAGED in her purse for a pen and paper to jot down Wendy’s phone number, then looked up and ran smack into Caleb’s deep-blue eyes.

He placed one of his large hands over hers. The warmth, and the corresponding jolt of awareness, surprised her as much as the odd expression on his face. She felt flustered, knocked off balance by his unexpected touch.

“I’m sure your friend Wendy is a terrific woman, but I was hoping that you could show me around.”

“Oh.”

She blinked, not certain what to say next, not really sure what she was feeling. She wished Caleb would take his hand back. The weight of it against her fingers was disconcerting.

“That is, if you don’t have other plans. I don’t want to intrude.”

“No, I have no plans.” She stared, owl eyed, uncertain of this strangeness stretching between them.

Caleb couldn’t be asking her out. Could he?

Come on, why would she even suppose that? He was her friend, her buddy, the guy she used to baby-sit when he was still stuffing tadpoles in his pocket. He just wanted someone to hang out with, and here she was blowing it all out of proportion.

She shook her head to dispel her crazy thoughts. What was the matter with her? Had rediscovering her sexual prowess gone to her head?

Imagine. A handsome, rich, younger man like Caleb interested in her? Simply ridiculous.

It had been a very strange forty-eight hours. She was still hungover from her night of sinful luxury with Don Juan, and she was misreading things. That had to be the answer to her confusion.

“Nothing against your friend, Megs. It’s just that over the past few months I’ve grown tired of the dating scene and I just wanted someone I could kick back and relax with. Do you realize that in the past four months I’ve been on sixty-seven first dates?”

“You’re kidding.”

“I wish I were. Frankly, it’s exhausting, having to make idle chitchat with someone you don’t have anything in common with. Especially for a guy who spends most of his time communing with flora and fauna. And, believe me, most of the women I’ve met are not the type to sit and watch glaciers melt.”

Why would they be watching glaciers melt when they could eyeball the likes of Caleb’s handsome physique?

“No second dates?”

He shook his head. “Not a one.”

“But why not?”

“It never felt right.”

“Oh.”

“So you don’t mind spending a few hours a week dragging a greenhorn tourist around Seattle?” he asked.

“With you, Caleb, I could spend twenty-four hours a day.” Now why had she said that?

Jeez, what was happening to her? She had no idea receiving oral sex from a sexy masked man could so disorient a woman. She had to stop thinking about Don Juan and cease reading sexual innuendo into something as innocent as an old friend’s touch.

“What I mean is,” she said, backpedaling, “I’d love to show you my city.”

CALEB AND MEGGIE STROLLED through the bustling Saturday afternoon crowd at Pike Place Market. The cool autumn breeze rolled in off Puget Sound, carrying with it the earthy aroma of fish and salty sea air. The day was unexpectedly sunny, and behind them, Mount Rainier was visible over the top of the city’s skyline.

Meggie was dressed warmly in woolen leggings, a vivid red tunic sweater that complemented her dark hair and ivory complexion, stylish thick-heeled black boots and a black leather jacket. A crimson tam was cocked jauntily on her head, the color reminding him of the bustier she’d worn at the Metropolitan party.

He had on black jeans, a black turtleneck and a green-plaid mackinaw. Meggie teased him about the mackinaw, joking that you could take the man out of Alaska but you couldn’t take Alaska out of the man. But Caleb saw plenty of other guys dressed as ruggedly as he.

Although a thriving metropolis, Seattle had managed to hang on to its wilderness roots. Things were a bit more casual here then in classy New York or hip L.A. If he were forced to live in a big city in the lower forty-eight, Seattle would be the one he’d choose.

The city, he decided, was a lot like Meggie herself, an interesting mix of sophisticate and earth mother.

A wide array of vendors had their wares spread out in a smorgasbord of selections, from fish to fresh fruits and vegetables to spices and cheese. Tantalizing aromas assaulted their noses.

Also interspersed between the buildings and food stalls were artisans with handmade crafts on display. Leather belts and wallets. Beaded rugs and pottery. Portraits and seascapes. Sculpture and jewelry.

“I come here almost every Saturday morning.” Meggie inhaled deeply. “I love the fresh food.”

“How about we pick up something for dinner and I cook for you?” Caleb offered. “To thank you for showing me a good time.”

“You don’t have to do that. We can just grab a pizza and rent a video or something.”

His heart skipped a beat. So she had planned for their outing to extend into the evening. This was a good thing. A very, very good thing.

“How about linguine with clam sauce?” he suggested enticingly. “Garlic bread and a tossed salad.”

“Okay.” She laughed. “You’re on.”

They wandered through the buildings, picking out the ingredients for their meal. When she casually linked her arm through his, Caleb almost stopped breathing.

He sneaked surreptitious glances her way, trying to decipher what the gesture meant, but she seemed so tranquil he could only conclude she felt relaxed enough in his presence that she hadn’t giving a second thought to slipping her arm through his.

Was that a bad sign or a good one?

Meggie chatted gaily about the market, about Seattle, about her job and his lecture series. He hung on her every word, but he was so dazzled by the feel of her arm against his side and the heavenly smell of her that he forgot what she said the minute the words left her ripe, sweet mouth.

She purchased a sack of tangerines from a fruit vendor and, as they strolled, peeled one with her long, slender fingers. Dropping the scalped peel into her sack, she then broke off a segment of the citrus fruit and slipped a wedge into her mouth.

“Mmm.”

Her soft sound jolted him straight back to that night at the Claremont Hotel. A shiver sliced through Caleb at the vivid memory.

“Oh, this is so good.”

Helplessly, he dropped his gaze to her mouth and spotted a glistening bead of wet nectar clinging to her lush bottom lip.

That tiny droplet mesmerized him more surely than a pocket watch entranced a hypnosis enthusiast. And his agony didn’t end there. When her tongue darted out and whisked the luscious liquid away, the sight reminded him even more of the erotic adventures they’d shared.

“Here, you’ve gotta taste this.” Meggie stopped walking, reached up and lifted a section of tangerine to his mouth.

With an indrawn breath, Caleb allowed his lips to part. Meggie slipped the tangy, sweet, pulpy fruit between his teeth. Her fingertip, soft and inviting, lightly caressed his lower lip, and Caleb’s mouth exploded in a riot of sensation. Between the sugary burst of tangerine on his taste buds and the lingering imprint of Meggie’s warm finger on his lips, he seriously considered that he might have just died and gone to heaven. The sound of appreciation he made had nothing to do with the fruit and everything to do with Meggie’s closeness.

She beamed at him. “It’s a perfect tangerine, isn’t it?”

“Perfect,” he agreed.

“Want another?”

Baby, you can feed me tangerines all day long, was what he wanted to say, but instead he said, “Nah, I don’t want to fill up before dinner.”

“Okay, but you’re missing out.” She polished off the tangerine with a satisfied smirk, and then daintily licked her fingers in a casual move so frigging hot it left Caleb aching to kiss her to taste the heady flavor of Meggie mixed with the perfect tangerine.

They continued walking. A couple of times she paused and tilted her head, looking at him as if he was a familiar pair of slippers or a comfy bathrobe.

That thought disturbed him. He didn’t want to be comfortable and familiar. He wanted to be a dangerous, exciting risk taker like Don Juan.

But he shouldn’t be complaining. For now, he had her all to himself. His real self. Not the consummate lover he pretended to be when he was behind that mask.

Ah. The sticking point. Would Meggie rather be with him or some long-dead lothario that Caleb had resurrected in order to romance the woman of his dreams?

Things were getting way too complicated.

He should come clean and tell her the truth about Don Juan, but he didn’t know how to start. Besides, he wasn’t sure she was ready to hear the truth, and he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her friendship.

Meggie leaned her head against his shoulder in a guileless gesture that captured his heart. She pointed to a vendor selling porcelain figurines.

“Ooh, dolls. Let’s go see.”

Okay. All right. He wouldn’t tell her about Don Juan. Not yet, even though he was bursting with the need to scoop her into his arms and kiss her.

He would wait. He would slowly romance her, as Caleb. By the time she realized her true feelings for him, he hoped she would be ready to discover the identity of her mystery lover.

Caleb swallowed hard. He didn’t feel particularly good about his plan, but saw no way around it. The outcome hinged on what he did in the next few weeks. Could he get her to see him as boyfriend potential? Could he convince her that she would rather have him than Don Juan?

He had less than four weeks to win her heart. The clock was ticking.

CALEB SEEMED DIFFERENT and Meggie couldn’t quite put her finger on why. Usually whenever she was around him she felt as relaxed as she did around her own family, but ever since his arrival in Seattle, there was an odd uneasiness between them.

When she’d leaned in close to feed him that slice of tangerine, she’d felt his whole body tense, and when her fingers grazed his lip she could have sworn she saw his skin pale.

Was he angry with her for some reason? Meggie had no idea why. She glanced over at him. The afternoon sun had slipped from behind the ever-present clouds, catching them for a moment in a swathe of orange light.

His hair glinted darkly. A five-o’clock shadow had begun to sprout on his rugged jaw. His brow was pulled down in a brooding expression. His eyes, as blue as the ocean beyond the pier, shimmered with an intensity that grabbed hold of her belly and squeezed. In that moment, he was a complete stranger to her.

Meggie gulped and the oddest sensation came over her. She couldn’t begin to name her emotion. Anxiety maybe, but a nicer feeling than that. Apprehension? No, not really. She wasn’t afraid of Caleb.

Excitement? Weirdly enough there was an element of that. Fondness? She’d always been fond of Caleb, but the sensation was deeper, more complex, than fondness.

Knocked off balance by the abnormal emotion—whatever it was—Meggie shook her head and hung back.

Caleb stopped and turned to look at her. The crowd flowed around them, but it was as if they were the only two people in the marketplace. The sun was retreating into the clouds, but left behind enough light to silhouette him in a surreal, ethereal glow.

He looked like…who?

Meggie stopped breathing as a dark, unthinkable thought skittered across her consciousness, but she quickly shoved it aside before it had time to take root in her head and bloom.

She needed something to distract her. Now.

The dolls. That was the answer. They’d been on their way to look at the doll vendor’s stand. With her blood darting rapidly through her veins, she hurried over to the vendor without glancing in Caleb’s direction again.

Inexplicably, her hand trembled slightly as she picked up a doll and pretended to examine it. But, in truth, she couldn’t seem to focus on the porcelain figurine in her hand.

Calm down, Meggie. What’s wrong with you?

She felt Caleb come up behind her and stand so close he almost touched her. Meggie’s body flooded with a sharp rush of adrenaline. She had the wildest urge to either flee or spin on her heels and snap at him to back away.

The fight or flight response.

But why on earth was she experiencing that cornered-animal gut reaction to a man she had known her entire life? It made absolutely no sense.

Was she attracted to Caleb Greenleaf?

At once, she knew it was true. When the switch had been flipped, she couldn’t say, but she wasn’t about to let Caleb know of her feelings. He was her ex-stepbrother, for crying out loud. He was two-and-a-half years her junior, and Meggie had no doubt that he considered her nothing more than a friend.

Whoa! Slow down. What is going on with you, Meggie? So what if you’re attracted to Caleb? It means nothing. Probably just some temporary transitional thing you’re going through. Like when patients fall in love with their therapists. Displacement. That was it.

Okay. She was calming down. See? Deep breath in, deep breath out. Calm. Controlled.

She was attracted to Caleb because he was familiar. He had been kind to her. And this probably had something to do with Don Juan stirring up a lot of sensual feelings she’d kept buried for a long time. Her unexpected desire for Caleb was simply a result of her rebounding femininity. This would pass.