“Congratulations on your anniversary,” Justine said.
“Thank you.” Carol sat down. “I hope the two of you will be as happy as we’ve been.”
Lorenzo returned with a bottle and two glasses, and they went through the ritual of checking the label, tasting and pouring. Cal stole looks at Justine and saw her stealing looks at the other couple. There was such longing on her face mixed with a generous dose of envy.
The more time he spent with her, the more intrigued he became. She’d obviously wanted to correct the erroneous impression of them as honeymooners, then had gone along with it. That took Cal to a place where he wondered what it would be like if they were a couple. The thoughts seemed to throw kerosene on the sparks of his fascination with her body and all that he hadn’t seen.
He wanted to know more about her. Was she flirting earlier today? Could she be as attracted to him as he was to her? Unless he was way off the mark, that was very possible, and he didn’t think he was so rusty that he was seeing things that weren’t there.
That decided, he planned to test his theory.
* * *
Justine and Cal stood outside the restaurant, waiting for the shuttle to pick them up for the return trip to the villa. It was a night so beautiful, she had no words to describe the spectacular dusting of stars glittering in the sky. A nearly full moon bathed them in silver light and a gentle breeze brushed strands of hair back from her face. Sharing a bottle of wine meant she’d had two glasses and that was a lot for her, but this happy haze was really nice.
“You’re very quiet,” Cal observed. “Did the whole mistaken honeymooner thing upset you?”
“No. It obviously made Lorenzo and Mr. and Mrs. Ten-Year Anniversary happy to think that we were. I finally decided that setting everyone straight would somehow let them down. No harm done.” She sighed. “It was perfect. In fact, this whole day has been absolutely perfect.”
“Even the work part?”
“It’s necessary and made me appreciate the rest of the day. Balance. Don’t you agree?”
“It was great, with the exception of the basket weaving class, where I was a standout underachiever.”
“That should have made you appreciate having ice cream afterward, a wonderful dinner and the excellence of this moment right now.” She breathed deeply. “Smell the flowers mixed with the sea air. It’s simply...paradise.”
The golf cart shuttle pulled up in front of them just then, cutting off his answer, but she dared him to disagree. Justine climbed in and slid over to make room for Cal. He handled the maneuver so gracefully she almost forgot he was on crutches. When they were safely in, Cal instructed the driver where to drop them, and the guy took off.
The movement was so sudden that she lurched forward. Automatically Cal put his arm around her shoulders, settling her securely against him. He was strong and solid, the kind of man a woman could depend on. She prepared herself for him to let her go when the ride smoothed out, but he didn’t. And she wasn’t sure what to make of that.
Feeling their bodies pressed together was more intoxicating than the lush, lovely night. The inclination to lean her head on his shoulder was strong, and if the ride had lasted any longer she almost certainly would have succumbed to temptation. But before she was ready for it to end, the driver pulled to a stop in front of the path lined with bushes and trees that protected the villa’s privacy.
Cal tipped the driver, and it must have been generous because the man thanked him profusely. They slid out and stepped safely back from the vehicle before watching it dart forward. Then solitude surrounded them along with the moonlight. She had had such a good time and felt oddly like Cinderella at the ball when it was five minutes until the clock struck midnight. Five minutes to soak up the magic before the world turned back into ordinary.
“I think you should have moved the Hart Energy corporate offices to this island,” she said.
“An interesting thought.” There was a smile in his voice. “I wonder if anyone would move here and work for me.”
“When I get back to Blackwater Lake and sing your praises, that won’t be an issue for you ever again,” she vowed.
“Okay. That makes me feel obligated to reveal that the secret to keeping me in line is setting parameters.”
“Better known as laying down the law,” she said.
“Yes.” He was studying her closely. “So, you’re not sorry you came?”
“Absolutely not.”
He angled his head toward the villa’s front door. “Then can I interest you in a nightcap?”
“I’d like that very much.” It’s what Cinderella would have done if her fairy godmother had given her even the slightest bit of wiggle room on that deadline. “On one condition.”
“Which is?”
“We can sit on the patio and enjoy this night. When we go home, winter and the holidays will be staring us in the face. Let’s take advantage of this setting while we can.”
“I don’t know. You drive a pretty hard bargain. Let me think about it.” A moment later he said, “I thought about it and you’re on.”
They went inside and Cal leaned on the crutches while he poured brandy into two snifters. “Will you do me a favor and carry—”
“Happy to take them outside.” She’d thought ahead, knowing he’d have his hands full with the crutches.
With glasses in hand, Justine followed him through the French doors onto the patio. Pool and patio lights were on, illuminating the area with two chairs and a small table between them. When Cal was settled, she set down his drink, then sat on his right, a couple of feet away.
Not quite near enough to feel the heat from his body. Her heart skipped and she missed the closeness they’d shared in the golf cart shuttle. Since he was her boss, that probably should have been a red flag, warning of trouble. But, since she was identifying with female characters from books tonight, she was going to channel Scarlett O’Hara and worry about it tomorrow.
“That was the best dinner I’ve ever had in my life,” she gushed.
“It was good,” he agreed.
She noticed the tone and glanced at him. There was something in his expression that made her ask, “You’ve had better?”
“My meal tonight was excellent. And the companionship was exceptional.” There was a gleam in his eyes.
“No you don’t.” She wagged a finger at him. “It’s not going to work. I refuse to be distracted. Where have you ever had a better dining experience than we had tonight at the five-star restaurant on this island?”
“It’s a very close call, but I’d have to go with Paris.”
“Oh. Well. Paris.” She shrugged. “I guess that’s to be expected. Do you remember the name of the restaurant?”
The corners of his mouth curved up. “No, but I’m pretty sure it was French.”
She laughed. “Only in Paris would they give a restaurant a French name.”
“Go figure.” He sipped his brandy.
“In the City of Light, do the waiters automatically assume a couple dining alone together are honeymooners?”
“I couldn’t say about all of them. But in my case, I was on my honeymoon.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, I took Daria—Tate, of the Dallas Tates—to Europe for our honeymoon. I combined the trip with business to research alternative energy sources. They’re doing some remarkable work with algae.”
“Oh, be still my heart. You got a tax deduction for taking your bride to Paris after your wedding? Oh, Cal—” She groaned, then couldn’t help laughing. “And everyone wondered why the marriage didn’t work out.”
“I couldn’t be objective then, but now it’s clear to me what the problem was.”
“That there was no romance?” She found herself deeply curious about his relationship. More than she
should be, given that they were boss and assistant.
“If she hadn’t fallen in love with my brother first, then made me her rebound guy, a trip to energy-rich land in the middle of nowhere would have been fun.” He looked at her, intensity crackling in his eyes. “With the right woman, anywhere would have been romantic.”
“You’re right.”
“I am?”
The shocked expression on his face was so darn cute it made her laugh. “Did you want me to disagree?”
“Of course not. But I expected some pushback.”
“Sorry to disappoint.”
“You are surprising and many other things, but disappointing is not one of them.”
Justine didn’t know whether to be flattered or ask for a raise. Since he was already paying her very generously, asking for more seemed wrong. “I agree with you because it makes sense. It’s practical. The feelings come from within and you take them wherever you go. The place doesn’t have to be special if you’re with the right person.”
“Well said. And it begs the question—did you have a honeymoon?”
Although she didn’t want to talk about this, it wasn’t fair to grill him like raw hamburger, then refuse to answer his question. If anything, she was unsure why he hadn’t brought this up before now. She took a sip of her brandy and let it burn all the way to her belly.
“Sort of.”
He waited a few moments, probably giving her a chance to elaborate. When she didn’t, he asked, “What does that mean?”
She took a deep breath and counted to five, willing herself to relax. “We had no money and were too poor to go anywhere.”
“That doesn’t explain the ‘sort of.’”
“No, it doesn’t. And I heard the pity in your voice in case you were wondering. There’s no reason for it. Our ‘honeymoon’ was the best.”
“What did you do?” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I know what you did. But something made it the best. Tell me about that.”
“My husband was planning to paint our apartment anyway, so he drew a picture of a fireplace on one wall.” She smiled, remembering how young they’d been and how wonderful it was. “It was August in Dallas and there was a heat wave. The humidity was awful. But we made a bed on the floor in front of that fireplace art and pretended we were snowed in at a cabin. It was sweet and romantic and just right. We didn’t have two pennies to rub together but felt like we had everything a person could ever want.”
“You’re lucky. I was in Paris and we were barely speaking to each other.”
“I’m sorry, Cal.”
He shrugged. “It’s in the past. Putting a positive spin on the whole thing, it was a learning experience.”
“Now who’s being a glass-half-full person? And yet, it’s kind of sad.”
“Not anymore.” He met her gaze, and his turned thoughtful. “But I can’t help wondering—”
“About?”
“What happened?”
“We turned up the air-conditioning and snuggled together for the whole weekend. Both of us had to go back to work on Monday.”
“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not what I was asking. When you asked if I was married, I said no, and the next question was whether or not there was a divorce.”
“I remember.” She tensed, knowing what was coming.
“When I said there had been a divorce, you wanted to know what broke us up.” He took a breath. “When I asked if you were married, you answered in the past tense but never talked about a divorce. What happened to your husband, Justine?”
Chapter Eight
Cal forgot about the moon, stars, perfect night and romance. He was mesmerized by her body language. It went from lush and loose to tight and tense in a heartbeat. Part of him wished he could take back the question, but another part wanted to know everything about this woman. She was special and whatever she’d gone through had contributed to the person who sat to his right. She was close enough for him to feel the warmth of her skin and hear the slight increase in her breathing.
What she’d already told him was that a car accident had left her with a limp that mostly she was able to hide. But he had a bad feeling her husband was tragically connected to the accident.
Justine was quiet for a long moment, staring at her empty brandy snifter. He wanted to pull her into his arms so badly that it hurt, but all he could do was wait and hope she would share whatever was making her look like that.
In the end he couldn’t stand the silence and gently nudged her to answer. “Justine? What is it?”
She looked up at him then. “My husband, Wes, died in a car accident along with our little girl, Betsy. It wasn’t his fault and she wasn’t even two yet.”
Cal felt as if she’d just slugged him in the stomach with a two-by-four. He’d put the pieces together with her husband but didn’t know she’d had a child. He thought of his niece, who was just a little older than Betsy was when she’d died, and what losing Leah would do to his sister, Ellie. Devastating didn’t even describe it. He couldn’t think of words adequate to express such a loss.
“My, God—I—” He’d been about to say how sorry he was, but that sounded so stupid.
“It’s all right. You don’t have to say anything.”
“I do. But anything I can think of sounds trite and inconsequential.”
“Don’t worry about it, Cal.”
What was wrong with this picture? Her comforting him? “No, just give me a minute. I’ll come up with something besides ‘I’m sorry.’”
“Believe it or not, that happened a lot. People want to make you feel better and that’s the accepted phrasing, with slight variations.” She smiled sadly. “It made me so furious at first, because no one could possibly be sorrier than me.”
“It’s a helpless feeling,” he admitted, “not having something to say besides ‘That really sucks.’ Not a comfortable place to be.”
“In hindsight I appreciated that friends and family were there for me. But at the time, the anger inside me was so big, so consuming. I was looking for someone to blame, a target for my rage. But there wasn’t one.”
“What about the other driver? The one who caused the accident?”
She set her glass on the table between them, then folded her hands in her lap. “He was an older man who’d had a medical episode—heart attack or stroke. He lost control at the wheel and plowed his big, heavy car into ours. The impact was on the driver’s side and Betsy was strapped into her seat behind her daddy. So I could see her from the front passenger seat.”
Cal swore he heard a break in her voice, but she looked composed. There was no sheen of tears in her eyes. This time he had to say something—even if it was clichéd and stupid. “You know, playing ‘what if’ or ‘if only’ will make you crazy, right?”
“You mean what if she’d been behind my seat? Or if only she wasn’t in the car at all?” She met his gaze. “Yeah, I know. For a long time I lived in ‘if only’-ville. While there I met my three BFFs—‘what if,’ ‘you should have,’ and ‘why didn’t you.’”
“Sounds like an inhospitable place,” he commented.
“It is. I don’t recommend visiting.”
“Not high on my list.”
“The problem was that I had a lot of time on my hands in the hospital.”
“The accident. That’s how you got the limp.” Duh. She’d told him that very first day when she arrived on the island to work. It seemed more pronounced after her long flight, and in the days since, he’d noticed that when she was tired or needed to stretch it was the most obvious.
“What caused the limp?”
“My leg was shattered from the knee down.” Her voice was calm and controlled, as if talking about a glass she’d dropped on the floor. “For a while, the doctors thoug
ht I might lose it. They fought for me because there was a time when I really didn’t care one way or the other. I was damaged in places the doctors couldn’t fix, parts of me hurt so much more than my leg.”
“Survivor’s guilt,” he commented.
“Yes.” Absently she brushed a hand over her thigh. “For the longest time I tried to understand. Why didn’t I die, too? What made me so special that my life was spared? Was I saved for some divine purpose?” Her expression was wry. “I didn’t get any answers to those questions and it was very frustrating, I can tell you.”
“I can’t even imagine.” Cal could see that she’d loved her family very much, and he had no frame of reference. Except... “The idea of suddenly losing my parents, my brothers or sister, my niece... It’s unthinkable. How does a person get through that? How did you move from such a dark place?” To the strong, sassy, serene woman he knew now. And he had to ask, “What’s your secret?”
“To what?” She met his gaze.
“You obviously pulled yourself out of the pit of hell. You’re tough, smart, efficient and a really good assistant. Shanna is better, but that’s because we’ve worked together for a number of years. Still, you’re a close second. No matter how much no one wanted to work with me, the fact is that Human Resources wouldn’t have sent someone incompetent.” So he looked into her eyes and tried not to drown in the beauty, warmth and sadness. “How did you come back from the edge?”
“Yoga.”
“There has to be more.” He’d seen her stretching and breathing and she’d instructed him on the technique for relaxation. But it just couldn’t be that easy.
She shrugged. “I was in the hospital a long time and had multiple surgeries to save my leg. When the docs gave me the green light for exercise, I had rehabilitation and physical therapy. That’s where I found yoga’s healing for mind, body and spirit. It changed my life.”
And watching her yoga poses had changed his, Cal thought. Although that carnal reflection didn’t make him proud. And for a moment he was afraid he’d actually said it out loud, but when the placid expression on her face didn’t change, he figured he was in the clear.
His by Christmas Page 9