by Carol Rose
She touched him as if he were gold. Her face was rapt in its intensity, as if he were impossibly precious, rarer than treasure. Caleb closed his eyes.
With longing, he suffered the softness of her lips against his skin and breathed in the heady perfume of hers that had haunted him for weeks. Minutes ticked past and still he stood, lost in the tenderness of the woman before him, lost in the marvel of her touch. Her fingertips, bolder now, brushed just beneath his waistband. The muscles of his abdomen flinched. He knew he hovered on the brink of overload, at a level of intensity that signaled imminent and total loss of control.
He ignored the danger. The need that hardened him brought with it some fragile emotion that had invaded his soul, thrusting him farther into the moment of intimacy than the physical surge of hormones. He felt a detached awareness of the heaviness of his arms, of standing balanced on the balls of his feet, effortlessly. Her hands, soft as a whisper, stroked his biceps and glided again over his chest. His body was molten, beyond the heavy flush of excitement that strained the fabric of his jeans. Wanting spread throughout his body.
Caleb felt...cherished. And beset by such overriding need for her that completion, when it came, might very well shatter the emotional distance he kept. Her lips whispered along the powerful line of his shoulder. She pressed against him, her softness against his taut chest.
Here were the complications he'd sought to avoid. A man could grow to need a woman whose slightest touch was pure heaven. She touched him as if she knew the ragged edges of his soul, knew the pain he had hidden in the darkest corners of his mind.
Delicately, her tongue traced the shape of his collarbone. He felt the throb of pulse in his neck...and felt her hands creep down to his belt buckle.
He could let loose the hunger burning at his core and take her, now on the floor. But could he do it without giving up his hard-won sanity?
Carefully, Caleb's hands gripped her wrists. He couldn't walk back into hell.
Julia's eyes moved up to his, clouded with need. His face felt tight, masking the war that raged through him.
"I think...I'd better leave."”
CHAPTER FOUR
When Julia checked her service before heading home from the hospital, there was a message from Caleb. Would she please come by the house? She drove the peaceful country lanes in the blue light of dusk, the windows open to let the wind tumble through her hair. The breeze swept over her as her mind spontaneously reviewed her last fevered moments with Caleb.
She'd just about devoured the man, pouring herself over him like warm honey. Maybe the long years of celibacy had weakened her immunity to sexy men.
Still, she couldn't make sense of his leaving. True, she'd run into the occasional man who believed sex belonged only in a committed relationship. Not many, but a few.
Definitely not Caleb, though. He was a man who had sworn off honor and integrity. After all, he'd deliberately allowed her to discover his background in a public way that made her look silly, if not stupid.
So why had he left when she offered sex without strings?
Julia still blushed at the thought. Her reaction to this man didn't make an ounce of sense. She believed sex belonged in a committed, loving relationship. But she'd have given him her virginity in that instant.
Maybe she should be grateful for whatever drove him from her arms. Yes, she should. But all Julia could think of was that Caleb hadn't felt as swept away by passion as she had.
No, she reversed herself. It didn't add up. She might be a virgin, technically, but she knew when a man wanted her.
When the car rolled to a stop in the rutted driveway, Julia tore her thoughts away from Caleb, running her gaze appreciatively over the house before her. With its bare log walls, it already seemed an extension of the nature around it. Since she was here last, a deck had been built around the house, the peeled surface of the logs glistening in the western sun.
Julia made her way across the yard and mounted the steps, determined to act as if their heated embrace had never happened.
"Caleb!" she called out from the front door. The presence of his truck in the drive assured her that he was here.
"Yeah. I'm over here," his voice replied.
She walked through the shadowy open space. "You wanted me for something?"
He was barely visible in the dark shadows that clustered in the corner of the house. But she sensed him with the same intuition that tells the blind when they're not alone.
"Yeah." His voice was honey-soft and low as he moved toward her out of the darkness. "I wanted you...for something."
Julia shivered, her body responding without thought.
"The stairway to the loft." His gaze drifted over her.
"What?" Her mouth suddenly felt dry.
Caleb's eve brows lifted humorously. "You did want a stairway to the loft?"
"Yes," she responded, feeling stupid. He'd had his chance with her and walked away. So what if he was blowing hot again?
"We have several options as to how we build it. I thought you might like to offer some input."
"Of course." Following him back to the living area, Julia tried not to notice how lovingly his T-shirt molded to the muscled contours of his back. Contours her hands had traced.
"Not melting. Totally immune,” she chanted to herself.
Julia forced her eyes away from him, and immediately tripped over a board.
"Damn, that shouldn't have been left there. I apologize for my workers." His grin was lethal, tantalizing and inviting.
She shrugged. "Never mind. Someday I'll learn not to wear skirts and heels out here."
Caleb's eyes skated down the length of her stockinged legs. "That would be safer, but such a loss to the scenery."
The warmth within her deepened, sending sensual heat along her excited nerves. And a warning seemed to echo in her head. Why the heck was he being so seductive?
Never a slouch in the seduction department, Caleb hadn't been so deliberate before. Tonight, he was turning on the charm.
Heaven help her, her ego hoped he was drowning in regret.
Julia cleared her throat. "So what did you want to ask me?"
"Oh, yeah. The stairway," his smile widened, possibly in recognition of her sidestepping.
Caleb turned. "Well, we can do it one of several ways...."
Julia tried hard to listen as he described treads, risers, and stringers. But his hair gleamed burnished gold in the glare of the working light and his warm, clean, male scent distracted her. She schooled her face to attentiveness and nodded frequently. However, an errant part of her mind persisted in noticing the snug fit of his jeans when he squatted down to gesture. And her fingers itched to smooth over his skin that gleamed like bronze silk over the swell of his muscles.
"Julia!"
"Uh, yes?" She gulped and refocused on his face.
"Were you listening at all?" he asked patiently.
"Of course," she replied before virtuously reciting his last few words. Thank heavens for her ability to hear what was being said while her mind wandered in a totally different direction, a skill developed through long years of school. "And I think the open-whatever format you were describing sounds terrific."
"You do, huh?" His face was enigmatic as he stared at her.
"Sure." She smiled brightly. Their gazes met and held.
"Julia?" he questioned, his voice as compelling as his dark gaze, his face radiating a powerful urgency. "Don't you ever have the urge to forget about tomorrow? Just live for this moment? Take what you can and the consequences be damned?"
"Well..." she hesitated. "Sometimes I feel like that, but I don't usually act on it."
"Caution can kill you," Caleb said, his eyes still locked with hers. "Come out here."
He grasped her wrist suddenly. Striding toward the front door, he towed her after him.
"Caleb? What the heck are you doing?" she protested as he tugged her on to the deck and down the steps.
Night had settled i
n with a vengeance since she'd entered the house.
"I want to show you something." Darkness swallowed them as his long strides took them away from the dimly lit house.
"Out here?" She felt long weeds brushing thickly against her legs. "In the dark?"
"Yeah." He slowed his pace now that the ground was rising steeply toward the back of the house.
After a minute or two, Julia realized he was taking her to the bluff, to the top of the hill that sheltered her house from the north winds. "Caleb, why are we climbing this hill?"
"Shhhhh. Just follow me."
Julia climbed after him, mentally swearing to keep a pair of casual shoes in the car after this.
They arrived, huffing, at the top. Well, she was huffing, Julia amended to herself. Still holding her wrist in his clasp, he stopped where the faint light from the house was blocked by the bluffs solid bulk.
"Sit," he commanded.
"Sit?" Julia repeated stupidly. "You want me to sit here?"
"Yes, Julia. Sit." Caleb dropped her hand and lowered himself gracefully to the thickly weeded ground.
Not knowing what else to do, Julia folded her legs as easily as she could in her straight skirt and sat.
"Lie back and look up." Caleb directed as he leaned back.
Julia tried to see his face, but the night shadows obscured her vision. Was he pulling her leg? No, she decided. His manner was too straightforward tonight. It lacked the edge of hostility that so often annoyed her. So she leaned back, and found the grass beneath her back surprisingly soft.
The night sky spread over them. Rich in its darkness, the velvet blackness was studded with a million diamond-like stars. "Ohhhhh. It's beautiful," she sighed.
"Yeah," Caleb agreed. "When I'm in the city, with its dirt and concrete, I think about nights like this."
Stretched out over clumps of grass with sandy soil filling her pumps, Julia thought of reminding him that dirt was fairly universal, but decided against it. He was right about one thing. There was a special quiet here in the darkness, no light or noise intruding. Only the faint sounds of wind through the weeds interrupted the whirring of night insects.
"The rat race is a dead end," he continued, his voice low in the darkness. "Millions of people trying to succeed, ignoring the things that really matter."
"Well," temporized Julia, "there are a lot of people who don't have much of a choice."
Had Caleb dropped out of medicine because of the stress?
"Everyone has a choice," he said wryly.
"That's a generalization," Julia argued. "Most people--"
"Hey, look!" Caleb exclaimed, pointing to the sky. Julia closed her mouth on the retort that sprang there, and looked again at the sky. A gasp escaped her lips. The sky above them was ablaze with a hundred streaks of light. It looked as if all the stars were falling at once.
"My God," Julia breathed reverently as she watched the meteor shower.
The dome stretched over them was alive with movement and light, as if millions of Fourth of July sparklers had been lit at once. Each falling star streaked through the sky, its tail a blaze of glory. There were so many Julia couldn't begin to count them, and it seemed to go on forever. The magnificence of the display left her speechless. She held her breath and found herself staring at the sky with wide-open eyes.
And then they trailed off and were gone, leaving the midnight sky as it was before, its stationary stars glimmering placidly. Julia took a deep breath and stared unbelievingly at the sky above her, now so still. Had it been real?
"Incredible, wasn't it?" Caleb's voice spoke close to her ear, his breath tickling her.
"Good grief," she let out a sigh. "Did you know it was supposed to happen?"
She felt his nod. "Yeah, I heard there was a chance the next few nights. We were lucky we didn't have to lie here long. "
Lucky didn't describe how she felt. Awestruck came closer.
"It was beautiful, Caleb. Thank you for bringing me up here," she said sincerely.
"You're welcome, petunia. Aren't you glad you weren't on duty in some crummy ER tonight?"
Julia felt her muscles tense up. "I would have hated to miss this regardless of what I was doing."
Caleb rolled toward her, his head propped on his arm. "But you don't do anything else, Julia. Only work. And that's such a loss. How many nights do you save for magic?"
"Probably not enough." She sat up.
He sat up, reaching for her, his hands sliding over her back. He pulled her to him. "Sometimes we just have to reach out and grab something for ourselves. Forget safety and rules."
His warmth, the shape of him, felt imprinted on her. "This fire between us, that's what matters."
Julia drew in a ragged breath trying to quell the heat that sprung up in her. Her body began to tremble. "So...what happened the other night? No fire?"
The barest touch of his lips traced down her neck.
"All I've thought about since then is making love to you. Over and over till I don't want to do anything but be with you all night long."
The warmth of his mouth teased at her ear, his teeth nipping at the sensitive lobe.
"Actually, it was good you left," she claimed as desire threatened to engulf her senses.
"Sweetheart, not as good as this," his mouth covered hers in passionate demand.
The velvet crush of his lips against hers thrilled Julia.
She surrendered to his embrace, powerless to resist.
Seconds later, Julia pulled herself away, annoyed both with herself and with him. Shaken by the feelings that raged inside her at his touch, she retorted, "Excuse me? You've changed your mind and I'm supposed to shrug and say okay?"
Caleb's hands stroked her, still holding her close. "Don't say anything. We won't talk at all."
"Oh, tonight you don't want to talk." Suddenly, the heat that filled her veins shifted to anger. She pulled away.
Having long ago adjusted to the darkness, her eyes could now see his expression clearly.
He sat back, his face dispassionate. "Okay. I left the other night because I could see us heading for trouble. You're a dreamer, an idealist."
"And that's different now?" she shot back tightly.
"Yes, if you can accept the moment. Take pleasure without needing the future set in stone. We can satisfy each other beyond our wildest dreams."
The desire was in his eyes, as if he were touching her. How could he be so hot and so cold at the same time?
He wanted her, had wanted her that night in her apartment, but he'd pulled away because he thought she had expectations. In another man, his hesitation might look like honor, but Caleb just didn't want to get caught in something emotional.
"Damn you, Caleb Hayden. I wasn't asking for promises the other night. I don't want a commitment from you. I wouldn't agree to one if you begged me. The last thing I need is involvement with someone like you."
Somehow in the darkness, her shoes had fallen off. She scrambled for them now.
"If you don't want an involvement with me, what do you want?" he asked in an edgy tone.
"Not a damn thing," Julia snapped, still searching the long grass for one shoe.
"I see," Caleb returned tightly. "I should have stayed the other night since you were in the mood for a little tumble."
"Thank heaven, you didn't," she muttered. "I must have been out of my mind."
"Yeah, imagine that." His sarcastic tone frosted the air between them. "We wouldn't want the up-and-coming young doctor to sleep with her foreman."
Sliding her foot into the shoe that had been beside her leg the whole time, Julia stood. Misery ached in her throat. What an ugly ending for a lovely moment.
She turned to walk away and then hesitated. He sat watching her, his face inscrutable.
"I feel sorry for you, Caleb. You think you've found the perfect world. No responsibilities, no strings. But life doesn't work that way. If you don't take the risks, you don't get the rewards."
Without waitin
g for his reply, she fled the hillside.
*
Sunlight crept through the small window over the sink, and Caleb blearily watched the golden splash it made on the opposite wall. He sat at the table, his bare back sticking to the vinyl bench seat. The day was only minutes old, but he felt ancient.
Every night he lay in his bed cursing himself for walking away from Julia. So what if she'd had dreams about what it all meant? If he'd stayed they'd both have gotten something out of it and he wouldn't be walking around in a permanently hard state, working himself to exhaustion in an effort to drive the lust out of him.
Outside the tiny trailer stood the results of his labor--his and that of the six other idiots who'd knocked themselves out in the last week and a half to finish the shell of the house. The hulk of timber sat there, empty and cavernous. The log crew had finished their work, gathered their tools, partied one last night and moved on. He wished it were that easy for him.
The place seemed empty. Hollow. She hadn't come once, not once, since the night of the meteor shower. Damn it to hell. The woman had been here almost daily from the moment they'd started, and when they got a little too close, she disappeared.
Caleb shoved aside the remainder of his breakfast with disgust and got up. He had work to do. The log crew may have finished the exterior of the house, but the major part of the process was still undone. Finishing it was his business.
He dumped his dishes in the sink and headed down the short hall toward the bedroom. He'd lived in the trailer for two years and only lately had he felt confined. When he'd escaped the trappings of his old life, the trailer had been his shell, his own corner to crawl into. Now he found himself wondering if turtles ever felt claustrophobic.
Pulling a t-shirt over his head, Caleb reached for his cap. As he shoved the door shut, his gaze fell on a trench-coat that was stuffed into a corner of the cramped closet. His jaw clenched as he recalled draping it around Julia.