by Carol Rose
Had she been right to thrust him away from her? Maybe Caleb had needed tenderness and tolerance, more than confrontation.
She hadn't slept well. Thoughts of him filled her days.
Julia stood in the living area, unmoving, loss and grief her only companions. His hands had built this, created this place and now it was all she had of him.
The air around her moved with a puff of breeze, and Julia realized that the windows were open. She peered through the dimness, making out the lifted sashes.
Anxiety gripped her. This wasn't right. The workers wouldn't have gone off and left the house so vulnerable. Caleb wouldn't....
The soft brush of a footstep on wood carne from the open door. Julia whirled, her nerves jumping.
He stood in the doorway, darker still than the night beyond. Not moving toward her, Caleb leaned against the door frame. "Well, well. Checking everything out?"
His voice sounded deep and mocking across the space between them. Even in the dimness, Julia could see the width of his shoulders and the taut, muscled line of his body.
This was impossible. Surrounded by the smells of paint, carpet and tile adhesive, she inhaled Caleb. A piercing longing swept through her. She wanted the scent of him to encircle her, wanted to lose herself in his comforting warmth.
She wanted him. Now. Immediately. No words, just touch.
A fine sheen of dampness sprang up on her body. His taunting words were swallowed in the darkness, but she felt his anger like the heat from a forest fire. And didn't care.
Caleb straightened and walked forward. "I just can't figure you, lady. You act like such an innocent. Proclaim your love like an angel. But you had an ulterior motive for sleeping with the help. Just stringing me all along all these weeks."
"Stringing you along?" she echoed, her heart thudding against her breastbone. What did he mean?
As her eyes adjusted to the lack of light, she saw him shake his head. He turned to look out the windows.
"What is it about women? They use love like a club, a crowbar to pry promises from a man."
"No," she whispered. "I want you to be happy."
His laugh was low and harsh. "Then come here. You know how to make me happy. I've been unhappy for two long weeks."
"Caleb." The strangled sound escaped her throat and she took a step toward him, moving toward the blaze of his rage.
Longing, hurt and need tangled together in her chest. She needed the connection, even in anger, to burn away the chill.
He was hurting, struggling with his demons, his own fear.
"I realize now," he went on, "that you want a doctor for a husband. But you went after the wrong man, honey. What's a matter? Haven't you been able to get a 'real' doctor to marry you? It isn't enough to have prestigious initials after your own name, you need more?"
He broke off when she stopped in front of him. She could feel her breath coming in shallow gasps.
Somehow he'd convinced himself that this was all about her, that she couldn't accept him unless he returned to professional life. He was wrong. She couldn't accept his self-destruction, but she loved him still. More than she could comprehend.
His eyes scorched over her face.
Softly, he whispered, "Why don't you shut me up? You're so good at it. You don't like what I'm saying? Shut me up."
She moved toward him then, melding his mouth beneath hers in a fierce mating.
Something seemed to break loose in him then, his unnatural stillness gone with her touch.
Julia felt the buttons of her dress break loose as he dragged at her bodice. Feverishly, she helped. His mouth flamed over her skin, the swell of her breasts.
Muttering, he tore at the lace cups of her bra and bared an aching nipple to his assault.
An arm like steel banded her to him. She felt the trembling in her thighs and an almost painful flush of readiness. She longed to draw up her skirt and lower herself over his hardness and consume him. To draw him back over and over until he merged with her permanently.
"Damn you," Caleb muttered, his mouth seeking hers.
Julia's fingers tangled with his belt buckle, as his hands swept under her skirt. Lifting her dress by the hem, Caleb pulled it off her and flung it away. Bending over her again, he suckled and gently bit her nipples while his hands stripped down her panties and hose.
Before she could help, he unleashed his belt and thrust down his jeans, briefs and all. In one scooping maneuver, she was beneath him.
Julia cried out, wrapped her legs around his pumping hips and held on. This was what she needed, to be joined with him while going out of her mind with the friction of his skin on hers.
Her internal muscles clenched around him, releasing again to welcome his push into her. She was aware of his body's straining arousal, the tension in his muscles. His flushed face above her, she eagerly took him in.
For weeks, there had been an echoing hollowness growing in Julia. Now it was gone. Now he filled her, over and over. She longed for the spilling of his seed in a rush of sensation. She wanted it, wanted him dizzy with the madness of it.
Reveling in the flush of frenzied nerve endings, the glory of sensation picked her up like a wave and sent her sailing on the swell of it, pleasure shuddering through her entire body. When the climax had passed, she landed into consciousness still clinging to Caleb, the wetness of his release seeping from her.
The harshness of their breathing filled the room, drowning out the chorus of cicadas from the open windows. Julia's arms relaxed involuntarily, utterly satisfied. She drew in another breath, letting it out in a long sigh.
Slowly, she came back to reality. She was naked on the floor while he was nearly fully clothed, and although she'd felt the unmistakable pulsing of his release, he still held himself above her.
Her eyelids fluttered up and she met his gaze. It was opaque, and jarringly unreadable.
In a swift movement, he withdrew from her, spent. Her body rippled with protest.
Rising to his feet, Caleb pulled up his jeans and buttoned them. His hands were busy with the belt buckle as he took his first steps toward the still open door.
Julia watched him in dazed disbelief.
Caleb paused, not looking at her. "Maybe this is the way we're going to finish it," he said, finality edging his words.
Then, silently, he was gone.
The quiet echoed around her. Julia felt the numbness of shock buzzing in her ears. Sitting up shakily, she peered out at the darkness beyond the open door. He was gone, just like that.
An errant breeze whispered through the windows, chilling her naked skin. Automatically, she began groping for her clothes.
All her life, she'd moved forward without pause, pushed by determination, afraid that she'd never know love again. And now, she sat naked in the darkness, consumed by a greater fear.
What if she never again felt the passionate melding of love and pain that she felt for Caleb? What if she never felt alive?
Wrapping her arms around herself, Julia cried.
CHAPTER NINE
Caleb strode through the darkness down the road to where he'd stashed his pickup earlier. He got in, slammed the door and started the engine with a sharp twist of the ignition key. Headlights slicing the thickness of night, the truck roared off.
More than anything, he needed to get away.
He tried to settle the chaos in his head. But that didn't even seem possible at the moment. Raw emotion, as heavy and binding as steel, choked him.
Hatred, bitterness-and a pain so sharp it took his breath away. Regret too powerful to be contained in such a mild word. Then remorse and sorrow rose up to consume him.
Nothing dimmed his consciousness of the hour just passed.
He thought he'd grow old and die with the memories still razor-sharp. Julia, wild and wanton, bucking erotically beneath him, her long, slim legs wrapped around his hips, holding him as if for eternity. Julia, her tousled blond hair fluffed crazily in the heat, her face blurred with linger
ing desire and...pain.
Pain that he'd caused. He shouldn't have waited for her tonight. When would he learn not to ask for a kick in the teeth?
*
Some things were unchangeable.
She should have gone the other way long ago, taken his measure and run for shelter. Most women did when confronted with a lustful, soulless man.
Anyway he looked at it, he'd tried to avoid this, tried to keep his hunger for her in check. He'd warned her in every way he knew, had done his best to make his limitations clear.
His best was lousy. It was ironic. He'd always thought conscience was linked to some internal moral sense. If a man didn't have integrity, surely he didn't suffer from remorse.
But Caleb had both. Regret and no honor. He knew that because his greatest emotion at this moment was fury at losing her so soon.
He could not bring himself to wish it all undone. Instead, he found himself dwelling on Julia's unrealistic expectations. Why did a man have to live his life a certain way? Caleb had done his best to give her every sensual satisfaction in return, but she hadn't thanked him for it. Instead, she'd become an echo of his past. A woman who wanted more of him than he had to offer. It was all so similar to the tragedy with Erin, except that Julia had called him a coward in the bargain.
Turning his pickup at the crossroads, Caleb headed for the nearest bar. He needed noise and carelessness, the hubbub of human voices and pounding music. He needed a drink.
He pulled into the gravel parking lot at Bubba's Tavern.
The place was just what he was looking for. Dark and smokey, voices raised loud to be heard over the music.
Caleb slid onto a stool at the bar and ordered a beer.
Waiting for his drink, he stared without seeing at the polished surface of the bar, his unruly mind venturing back to Julia.
He'd been cruel, taking her on the floor like a wild animal and then walking out. It was probably the biggest favor he could have done her, demonstrating what a heartless jerk he was.
She'd hate him now.
The busy bartender placed his beer in front of him and went to serve other customers. Caleb reached for it automatically, taking a sip to quell the shuddering in his gut.
It was best for everyone if Julia hated him. And yet, he hadn't wanted that.
A flood of memories crashed to the forefront. Julia, sticky with cement the day he'd bumped her into the puddle. The incredible sight of her wrapped only in his smallest towel The angry flash in her eyes when he'd set her up to find out the truth about his past.
Caleb's hands clenched on the bar. God. She was...everything.
It was her inner purity, her unwavering belief in the power of love that had seduced him, mind and soul. He hated to be the one to beat that idealism out of her, but maybe it was better coming from him. With any luck, he'd just made her a little more cautious.
Even the power of love had its limits.
Caleb stared at the condensation beading up on his glass. It was done. Without a doubt he'd seen the last of her.
"Hey, I haven't seen you in here before," a husky voice murmured near his ear.
Caleb turned. The shapely redhead slid onto the bar stool next to his. Poured into her jeans with a shirt exposing deep cleavage, she looked like a good solution to bad memories.
He couldn't even bring himself to smile at her.
"Why so glum, sugar?" She placed a slender hand on his arm, her pretty face showing concern.
The possibilities flashed through Caleb's mind. The woman probably had an apartment nearby. She was a clean, attractive female who probably looked really good naked. She also looked available enough to do most things a man would like. All on short acquaintance.
He stared at her, noting the pretty face, artfully made up, the interest in her eyes.
Mentally placing himself in a bed with the naked woman, he found he couldn't stir the slightest interest.
"I'm glum because I just boinked a woman and ran out on her," he said crudely.
The redhead's eyes widened and she pulled her hand back as if he'd bitten her.
"So I'm not really in the mood for more action tonight. Thanks anyway."
"Well, really." The woman got up and walked away in a huff.
Caleb stared at the glass in front of him, the redhead dismissed from his mind. No doubt, he was a complete jerk.
Frustration swept through him. Clearly, he wasn't far enough away.
He got up, threw some bills on the bar and walked out. It was time to go. The job in Alaska didn't start for another three weeks, but getting there early suddenly seemed like a good idea.
Starting the pickup, he swung back out on the road.
He was a only a half a mile away from Dan's, where he'd left the trailer, when Caleb remembered the stash of tools on the back porch at Julia's house.
Damn. They were the reason he'd gone to the house in the first place. At least, that was what he'd told himself. But once there he'd been so caught up in waiting for Julia to come, he hadn't even thought of the tools.
Caleb looked at his watch. It had been after eleven when Julia got to the house, after twelve when he arrived at the bar.
Surely, she'd have left the house by now.
The thought of running into her, meeting her at the house by accident after what they'd done tonight-he just couldn't. What the hell did a man say after that?
But she'd be gone by now, tucked safely in the bed he'd shared with her so often. Crying her eyes out.
Caleb closed his mind against that image and turned the truck around. He needed those tools...and he didn't need to leave anything with Julia. No reminders for either of them.
It was pitch dark now, with a steady rush of wind from the open window and the intermittent flash of sheet lightning on the horizon as a thunderstorm rumbled off in the distance. The headlights blazed around each twist of the asphalt road.
Yellow diamond-shaped warning signs flickered briefly at a corner, illuminated by the headlights as the truck roared on. The night was unseasonably hot, so hot that the whip of wind from the windows felt like the singe of a brush fire against his face. The oppressive air was heavy with the heat before a storm.
Caleb pressed the accelerator down further to take the hill rising in front of him. The engine echoed the thunder as it stormed the hill. Coming over the rise, his foot eased onto the brake. Darkness covered the country road, lifting only briefly when the lightning flashed.
The scent of dampness seeped in through the open window, a fine mist of it descending suddenly on the windshield. Caleb flicked on the wipers.
Raindrops fell against the glass in a heavy rush, flooding in at the open window. Caleb rolled it up, leaving a crack to let in the clean smell of scattered rain. The gusting wind was turning cooler as a Norther pushed through.
Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t shake the feeling that the last two years had been a test that he’d failed miserably.
The truck headlights bounced crazily over the uneven roads slickened by rain. The iridescent flash of a warning turn sign gleamed a hundred yards ahead.
Caleb eased the brake down, wondering absently if he’d ever find a way to make his life right again.
The downpour hissed against the pavement as the truck slowed to take a hairpin curve, so frequent on two-lane country roads. As he rounded the corner, his headlights illuminated two crumpled cars in the intersection. In automatic reaction, he stopped the truck.
*
Julia couldn't have been more than ten feet into the intersection when she heard it-the squeal of tires against wet pavement. Whipping her head around, she saw the car, skidding toward her. Accelerating and pulling hard on the steering wheel, she made a desperate effort to get out of the way.
The impact, when it came, was explosive. Her window shattered with the buckling of the door and Julia felt the world tilt as the car fell sideways. Metal screamed against pavement as sparks, brilliant as fireworks, sprayed out.
Her seat belt
was a band clenched around her with the force of steel. The silvery leaves of the roadside thicket spun crazily before Julia's eyes. The high-pitched sound of glass breaking assaulted her ears as the windshield shattered, splintering into a thousand glittering knives.
There was a blur of night sky mixed with the splatter of rain on her face as she rolled. Julia's head snapped forward, hitting the steering wheel.
Then there was searing pain and then...darkness. Julia was aware next of the car tilting slowly, drunkenly into a ditch, its side resting on solid earth. Held still by the seat belt, she felt a sharp sensation in her thigh and her head throbbed painfully.
Unconsciousness claimed her again.
Fighting against it, Julia focused on the pain in her head and on the sudden silence. There was only the creaking of dented metal and a peaceful hissing and the steady hush of rain.
*
The harsh reality of the accident scene penetrated Caleb's shocked mind as he came closer, and with it came a surge of adrenalin.
There were two cars. One with a crumpled side panel and warped hood sat to the side of the intersection, and Caleb could see a man crawling out the passenger door.
He was holding his arm at an odd angle and lurching unsteadily through the tall grass in the culvert.
"Are you all right?" Caleb called out.
"I think so. My arm hurts." The man seemed dazed. Caleb turned toward the other vehicle. A small coupe, perhaps blue or gray, difficult to see clearly in the poor light. A decal of some kind was affixed to the bumper.
Then recognition hit Caleb so hard he began running toward the car.
Julia.
Hoisting himself up to look into the tilted car's front window, Caleb's gaze swept the shadowed interior. Through the gloom and the driving rain, he saw a shape huddled on the front seat, suspended somewhat by the seat belt.
The blackness of the rain-soaked night, alleviated only a little by a faint glimmer from the wrecked car's dash, gave only enough light to tease. He couldn't tell if she was breathing.
The heavy rain fell in a steady curtain, plastering his clothes against him and sending rivulets into his eyes. In desperation, Caleb leaned closer.