His by Christmas Page 13

  She thought for a moment. “I could answer the door without getting dressed.”

  “That’s a big negative.” He sighed. “All right. If you must. No one can say I’m not self-sacrificing.”

  “A prince of a guy.” She rolled out of bed, grabbed his shirt off the floor and slipped it on. “I’ll be back.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.” She smiled at him, then was gone.

  And the sun seemed not as bright. Wow, that was sappy. But true.

  And then other thoughts crept in. Such as—maybe Justine wasn’t comfortable having breakfast in bed. It might be too soon for that. As her boss, he’d crossed a line and couldn’t go back even if he wanted to. But he wouldn’t do anything to make her ill at ease, either. She was putting on clothes, so he would, too. After a quick shower.

  About thirty minutes later she wheeled a fully loaded food cart into his suite, where he was dressed and scrolling through messages on his cell phone.

  She stood beside the bed with a hand on her hip, looking pretty and casual in a long flowered dress and sandals. “Seriously, omelets? Crepes? Eggs over easy, medium, hard and scrambled? Bacon, sausage and ham? Eggs Benedict?”

  “You were right here when I called.”

  “I know—” She sighed. “Apparently I’m a visual person and seeing the volume is—wow.”

  “And you’re responsible for eating half of this,” he said seriously.

  “You are incorrigible.”

  “That’s what the principal always said when I got sent to the office.” He patted the bed beside him. “I just didn’t want to miss any of your favorites. And there are so many.”

  “Someone is feeling his oats this morning.” She set out plates on the quilt he’d pulled up. “There should be something on the menu for an occasion like this.”

  “Breakfast for honeymooners?”

  “That’s not what we are. I was thinking more a tryst tasting. A sampling of different items instead of the full order to be enjoyed the morning after the night before.”

  “An excellent marketing idea. We should suggest it to someone.”

  When the food was all set out, she climbed into the bed beside him. “Without telling that someone how the idea happened.”

  “Why? It’s not an illicit affair. Neither of us is married—” He kicked himself when her smile slipped a little. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up...anything.” He shrugged, not quite sure what to say.

  “You didn’t. Like I said last night, I’ve reconciled my past and I’m moving on.” She looked at the array of food that filled nearly every square inch of the king-size bed, leaving only enough room for them to sit. “Let’s eat before it gets cold.”

  “Excellent idea.”

  They each picked up a dish and sampled it, then fed bites to each other. This was their method of working through the array of entrées, fruit and side dishes of potatoes. When neither of them could eat another bite, they leaned back against the pillows and groaned.

  “That was too good, but I’m stuffed,” Justine said.

  “The idea of a sampler is very appealing right about now. Or—” he glanced sideways at her “—someone could have used some self-control with the menu.”

  “Don’t look at me, hotshot. That was all you.” She pointed at him. “And it was very sweet of you.”

  “Glad you think so. Tomorrow morning we’ll approach breakfast after the night before a little differently.”

  A lovely shade of pink colored her cheeks at the suggestion that he would be sleeping with her again later. It wasn’t a suggestion, actually, but more of a fact. Resisting her was impossible. He could hardly wait to wake up with her beside him again.

  “And by approaching breakfast differently, what you really mean is that I’ll be ordering, right?”

  He grinned. “It’s like you can read my mind.”

  Her eyes were shining with humor that brought out the gold and green flecks. Beautiful. “You say that as if it’s a challenge.”

  “Them’s fightin’ words.” He started to reach for her.

  “No.” She shrieked and slid away. “There are plates of food everywhere.”

  His cell phone sounded and he automatically looked at caller ID, though he was prepared to ignore it and kiss her, letting the chips fall where they might. Except he couldn’t.

  “It’s Sam on Skype,” he said, then put his finger to his lips, a sign for her not to make a sound. She nodded her understanding.

  He hit the talk button and saw Sam’s image. “Hey. What’s up?”

  “Hi. I’m calling to see if you’re surviving vacation.”

  “Uh-huh.” Cal didn’t believe that for a second. “You’re checking up on me.”

  “Are you accusing me of not trusting you?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. You caught me. I want to see that you’re really on the island and living up to the bargain you made.”

  “I am. And that sweet car is mine.”

  “You expect me to take your word for it?” Sam asked skeptically.

  “Okay. Hold on.” Cal slid off the bed and retrieved one crutch, then hopped over to the suite’s French doors. He aimed the phone away from him and outside, scanning the patio and pool, then the sand and ocean. “Just another day in paradise.”

  “Nice. Definitely not Blackwater Lake, Montana,” Sam said drily.

  “No.” He loved the charming, picturesque town and friendly people, but on the island he didn’t feel alone—lonely—like he did there. Not since Justine showed up anyway. “It’s a great getaway spot.”

  “I still can’t believe you took Mom’s suggestion of where to go.”

  “It saved time not to look and I didn’t much care. It’s a bet.” Speaking of his mother... “Have you talked to Mom?”

  “No. I’ve been busy with work.”

  “And your new wife and daughter. How are Faith and Phoebe? Everyone healthy and happy?”

  “Doing great.” Sam smiled. “Best thing that ever happened to me. You should give marriage a try—”

  “I already did.”

  “Again, I meant.”

  No, Cal thought, he shouldn’t give it another try. He wasn’t very good at it the first time, so it wasn’t something he wanted to do again. “I’m glad things are good with you.”

  “Speaking of healthy, I saw the crutch. Is there something you want to tell me?”

  “Skydiving isn’t as easy as it looks. The landing is tricky. I broke my leg. Simple fracture.”

  “Bummer.”

  “The cast is coming off in a week.”

  “Good.” Sam hesitated a moment. “Knowing you, there were other activities on your agenda equally life-threatening. That bum leg must have put a wrinkle in your plans.”

  “I’m managing.”

  “How? By working?” Sam asked suspiciously.

  Cal glanced at Justine, who was quietly removing plates from the bed. He felt his pulse jump, not unlike when he’d stepped out of that plane and plummeted toward the ground. Instead of a yes-or-no answer to his brother’s question, he said, “I have sat on the beach with a book and taken a basket weaving class. There are guided tours around the island and cooking classes. Massage. Many activities to keep busy.”

  “Wow. I’m really impressed that you’re fulfilling the bargain.”

  “I’m an honorable man.” Cal saw Justine give him a thumbs-down on that declaration. He shrugged. “And I won’t hold it against you for checking up on me. If the situation were reversed, I’d have done the same to you.”

  “That’s the way brothers roll,” Sam agreed. “I have to run. It’s good talking to you, Cal. Take care of the leg.”

  “Will do. Thanks for calling. See you soon.”
>
  He hit the off button and hopped over to Justine, just clearing the last plates and stacking them on the cart. She looked at him and tsked.

  “What did I do?”

  “You are morally bankrupt.”

  “Me?” He pointed to himself.

  “Not only are you violating the spirit of the wager, but you deliberately showed your brother the suite, the patio and the ocean, everything except me. That’s a lie of omission.”

  “I can live with that.” He curved his hands on her hips and tugged her close, then started sliding the material up with every intention of pulling the dress over her head and dropping it on the floor. “You know, it’s not so bad that you got dressed to let in room service.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Because I get to take your clothes off all over again.” He kissed her and she kissed him back.

  He just couldn’t wait until tonight to have her.

  Chapter Eleven

  Justine was sitting at her desk, trying to be an efficient assistant and failing miserably. It was logical to assume that her concentration at work would improve after sleeping with Cal, because of the whole tension-relieving aspect of it. That seemed to work for him but was definitely not the case for her.

  She kept looking at him and marveled that he seemed to have no problem focusing on the work. He wasn’t stealing looks at her, and she would know since she couldn’t seem to lose the habit of glancing at him all the time. Apparently the ability to concentrate had become his post-sex superpower.

  It had been a week. Seven days since she’d bared her soul to him and her body, too. Every one of those nights had been spent in his bed. Maid service was no doubt happy there was only one suite to clean. And Justine was more than content to be in his arms, especially because Cal seemed eager to have her there. On paper she didn’t have a care in the world, but deep inside she had a great many cares.

  “Do you have the cost projections for the wind farm project in Maine?” Cal was sitting on the couch as usual and looked up from his laptop when he asked the question.

  “They’re here on my desk somewhere.” Her work space was uncharacteristically cluttered and might just reflect her inner turmoil. She started to go through a stack of papers. “I’ll find it.”

  “No rush. When you can.” He looked down at his computer screen again. Displaying his superpower in all its glory.

  And Justine studied her own monitor—for the fourth time. The environmental impact study just wasn’t especially compelling today for some reason.

  “I’m going to take a break,” she told him. “Is that all right with you?”

  “Of course.” He glanced up and smiled, then turned back to work.

  It felt like a lifetime ago that he’d pushed back on her taking regular breaks. At the time, making her point seemed a very big undertaking, but it now paled in comparison to what was going on with her boss.

  She picked up her cell phone and went into her old suite to stretch and try to clear her mind. That always seemed to help restore her balance and serenity. Both had been sorely tested in the three weeks she’d spent with Calhoun Hart. She’d tried meditation-heavy yoga but her mind kept straying back to him, vacillating between elation and unease.

  She decided to do hatha yoga, combining deep breathing with poses to promote flexibility, balance and relaxation. All of those qualities were lacking in her right now.

  She was positioning herself when the phone rang. After checking caller ID, she smiled and hit the talk button. It was her good friend and Cal’s vacationing assistant. “Hi, Shanna.”

  “Justine, is this a bad time?”

  “No. I’m taking a break.”

  “I hoped you would be. How are you?”

  “Good.” The answer was polite but not enthusiastic. When you went to bed with the boss, life tended to get complicated. “How was your cruise?”

  “Oh, my God—” There was a pause where her friend was no doubt putting a hand to her chest and wearing a rapturous expression on her face. “It was fantastic. Better. The most awesome trip ever.”

  “You met someone, didn’t you?” Justine guessed.

  “How did you know? You’re psychic. I always suspected but that’s proof.”

  “I didn’t read your mind, but I know you pretty well. That’s your I-met-a-man voice.”

  “I didn’t realize I had one. And it’s a little scary that you can read me so accurately,” Shanna said.

  “So, I’m right.” It wasn’t a question.

  “Yes. I did meet the most wonderful man on the entire planet.”

  Justine could argue that point given the turn in her status with Cal but decided not to go there. “Wonderful, huh? Do you expect me to believe you didn’t fall for a cad?”

  “Since my pattern is hooking up with bozos, I can see why you’d be skeptical. God knows I’ve kissed a lot of frogs...but this man is really something special.”

  Justine sat on the bed. She was hearing something new in her friend’s voice. “I know it was a relatively long cruise, but it was short enough to hide flaws if one wanted to.”

  “I know what you’re saying, Justine, and I can’t really explain why I’m so sure.” She took a deep breath. “His name is Mark Shelton and he’s a big-time movie producer from California. He brought his whole family on the trip and it’s a big, close family—parents, brothers, sisters, their spouses and children.”

  “Wow. Very generous.”

  “I know, right?” There was an ecstatic squeal from the other end of the line. “You can really get a sense of a man seeing him with the people who know him best. He’s a good guy and they love him. He’s great with the kids. I watched him in the pool with them and the nieces and nephews just adore him. He even took care of his sister’s infant. That was a seriously take-no-prisoners moment when I saw him holding a baby. Be still my heart.”

  “Shannie, I have to ask. How can you be sure it wasn’t an act for your benefit? He’s Hollywood, after all.”

  “I get it,” Shanna said. “I was skeptical, too, and watching carefully, waiting to catch him. But you can’t fake the baby thing and the kids weren’t coached. We both know children do not suffer fools or filter comments when something pops into their mind. His nieces and nephews just blurted things out like, ‘Remember when you took us to the snow?’ or, ‘I loved when you dug a hole in the sand and buried me.’”

  “So you’re convinced he’s the real deal?”

  “Not a doubt. His parents and siblings are genuine, too. He’s very close to them.”

  “Is he the one, Shan?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you’re his Ms. Right?”

  “Yes. When you know, you just know.” Shanna sighed happily. “You know?”

  “Yes.”

  It seemed like another lifetime, but Justine remembered falling in love, that uncomplicated feeling of pure joy at finding the one man she wanted to be with forever. She’d been so young and it was all so easy because she never thought that anything bad could touch them. Until it did.

  “I’ve never been so happy,” Shanna gushed.

  Justine had been that happy once. When it was so cruelly and suddenly snatched away she’d believed loneliness was all she would have for the rest of her life. She’d never expected someone like Cal.

  “But he lives in California, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you...don’t,” Justine pointed out rationally. “I hate being the voice of reason, but just how are you going to work this out?”

  “You sure know how to let the air out of the excitement balloon and throw water on the fire of romance, don’t you?”

  “What are friends for?” she teased. “But seriously, you and Mark must have talked about the geographic consequences of a
long-distance relationship.”

  “More than talked,” Shanna confirmed. “We made a decision that it wouldn’t work. He proposed and I accepted. I’m moving to California.”

  “Wow.” Even though Justine had suspected that this was where her friend was headed, she was still shocked. “Congratulations.”

  “Thanks.”

  “That means you’ll have to give Cal your notice.”

  “I know, and I’m not looking forward to that.” For the first time her friend’s enthusiasm slipped. “He’s driven, but still a great guy and a good boss. I’ll miss him.”

  “But you just moved to Blackwater Lake,” Justine protested.

  “Yes, I did. On the bright side, half of my stuff is still packed and in storage. And my moving mojo is still going strong.” There was another silence on the other end of the line and her friend was probably chewing nervously on her lip. “Be happy for me, J.”

  “Of course I am,” she said quickly. She was also envious. First love was simple, easy and wonderful. “I’m sure you’ll be very happy, and I hope I get to meet the man responsible for it.”

  “You will. Count on it.” Shanna blew out a long breath. “I just wanted a break from work. It never occurred to me that I’d find my destiny on vacation.”

  “Isn’t that always the way?” Justine said.

  “Speaking of getting away...listen to me going on about myself. How are you?”

  “I’m fine.”

  There was a pause, as if Shanna was waiting for more. “Is that it?”

  “What else should there be?”

  “For one thing, how is it working with Cal? Worth the big bucks you’re getting to put up with him?”

  “Since it took you four years to get a vacation, you know better than anyone what he’s like.”

  “That’s exactly why I’m asking. Is he driving you crazy?”

  Yes, but not the way her friend meant. Their time in bed was sweet, sexy, hot, satisfying. All the more vivid because she’d missed being physically close with a man. But at work, he seemed able to compartmentalize, which should have been reassuring. And it was, in a way. So why wasn’t she completely reassured? Probably she needed therapy.