“You know, I really think this is a sad case of mistaken identity.”
“Really?”
He nodded hopefully. “It’s like you said. She must have meant some other Grant.”
“Right.” She nodded, eyes dancing. “I’ll bet your school was just brimming with guys named Grant Carver.”
He grimaced. “Brimming with Grant Carver wannabes, maybe,” he muttered.
She grinned. “Okay, let’s see if we can pin this down,” she said, turning to the index. “This Grant Carver was captain of the swim team. King of Junior Prom. Senior class president. Does that ring a bell?”
He blinked blankly and shrugged. “Who remembers high school?”
“Oh, wait! This Grant Carver was voted ‘Most Likely To Be Shot By A Jealous Husband.’” She looked up, her eyes dancing at his discomfort. “Grant, I don’t see anything about the chess club here.”
“They must have left that out.” He grimaced. “Never mind. Let’s go down and see if lunch is ready.”
She shook her head. “Let’s read more of those letters.”
“Let’s not.” He made a halfhearted pass at grabbing the book from her but she kicked off her shoes and jumped up on the bed, out of reach.
“‘Dear Grant,’” she read. “‘You are so cool, but your kiss is so hot.’” She laughed. “All these references to heat. A theme seems to be coming through, don’t you think? Hot, hot, hot.” She made a face at him.
His eyes were smiling but he was pretending to frown and tried to grab the book again. “Give me that.”
“No!” she cried, bouncing away from his reach. “We must read all the letters. The truth must come out! Your wild past can’t be suppressed forever.” She frowned down at him. “Was this really your attitude toward girls in those days? Sexist pig.”
“I told you. That isn’t me.”
“Then who is it, your evil twin?”
“Could be. I won’t know until you hand over the book.”
“Hah!”
He held out his hand. “Give me the book.”
She taunted him with a grin. “Make me.”
He didn’t hesitate. In one bound, he was up on the bed with her. Laughing, she tried to get away, and when that didn’t work, she clung to the yearbook, trying to keep him from taking it. That didn’t last long. He had the book, and then she was falling onto the soft surface of the bed and he was falling with her.
They landed together, face-to-face, her hands flattened on his chest. She was still laughing, but when she looked into his eyes, she saw something darker and more disturbed there.
“Hi,” she said softly.
He couldn’t answer her. He was too busy trying not to want her.
His hands were clutched in fists to keep from touching her. And because this was so hard, he had to ask himself-could he do this? Could he marry another woman? He stared down into Callie’s dark eyes and searched for an answer.
Callie’s face had a look of impatience, as though she’d waited for something that hadn’t happened and she was getting darn tired of this. With a flash of quick irritation, she threw her arms around his neck.
“If you can’t even kiss me, how are we ever going to make love?” she whispered.
He stared down at her. She didn’t understand. Sex was just sex. He could do that anytime, anywhere. But kissing-that was opening up and letting someone in-a connection between heart and soul. Once he’d kissed her…
She was giving up. Her hands slid down from his neck and a hurt look filled her eyes. He couldn’t stand that, and without letting himself think, he lowered his mouth to hers.
Hot buttered rum. That was what she tasted like. Smooth and creamy and slightly intoxicating. And addictive. Once the kiss started, he wasn’t sure he was going to be able to stop it. She was so soft, so sweet…Desire rose in him like a sort of madness, threatening to take away his ability to reason.
As he struggled to pull away, the thoughts came anyway, fast and confusing. He didn’t want to feel this sort of urgency, this need to take her in his arms. But it had been so long since he’d held a woman and his body wanted hers so badly. At the same time, he had to hold himself back. He wasn’t free to do what came naturally. He had to remember…
“I’m sorry,” she was saying.
He looked down, startled. Her gaze was still troubled.
“I shouldn’t have pushed you into that,” she said. “I know you didn’t want to do it.”
His mind was still too thick to process coherent thoughts. Pulling back away from her, he rose on his elbow and watched her for a moment.
“This isn’t going to be easy for either of us,” he said at last. “What we’re planning to do will go against all our basic instincts.”
She nodded. “I know.”
Rolling over, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked back at him. She was reeling from that kiss, but working hard to keep that information close to the vest. But, oh my! Her lips were still vibrating. She’d never been kissed like that before. In fact, she didn’t know it could be that way. And worst of all, she was dying to feel that way again.
Should she tell him? Should she warn him that she might not be able to keep the sort of distance they were planning to maintain in their marriage? Maybe she should let him know. He had a right to that information.
But before she had a chance to say anything more, Rosa called from the stairs, letting them know that lunch was getting cold. They both rose from the bed, pulled their clothing together and started down to the lunchroom. And Callie let that moment slip away.
The lunch was delicious-tortilla soup and taco salad. As they ate, they both seemed to gradually lose the edgy sensitivity they’d picked up on that bed, and before long, they were talking and kidding again, instead of feeling that strange sensual connection.
“So tell me,” Callie said as they started on their bowls of ice cream for dessert. “On the level. What is the truth about you?”
“About me?” He shrugged as though it hardly mattered. “Hard to say. It’s probably about halfway in between what you were thinking and what I was saying.”
“Oh.” She thought for a few seconds. “Well, I guess that’s helpful. In a way.”
“Okay, here’s the real truth,” he began, waving his spoon at her.
“As opposed to the unreal truth you’ve been telling me so far?” she teased.
Giving her a superior look, he ignored her comment and went on.
“Unfortunately it’s a very boring story. I had good parents, a great sister, friends and extended family. I did well in school, but I wasn’t the best. I got into a good college and did well there. I met a wonderful girl…”
His voice suddenly seemed to fail him. He’d meant to go on and tell her about Jan, she was sure, but right now, he just couldn’t do it.
“Anyway, just a normal American upbringing,” he said instead, avoiding her gaze as he put his napkin on the table.
“Sure,” she said, trying to sound casual after an awkward moment of silence. “With a little more money than most, a little more background, a huge Texas ranch and a major business in the family. Let’s face it, Grant. You are one of the blessed.”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. You’re right. I had a lot of advantages. And I’m grateful.” His voice got rougher as he added, “But I’d give it all up if I could change a few things.”
With a nod to her, he rose and walked out of the room, leaving it at that.
Callie looked around the room and wondered how often Jan had been here with him. It was obvious he was feeling the emptiness she’d left behind right now-that he was fighting off heartbreak. She wished she knew how to help him, but she was afraid that was a wound that just wasn’t going to heal.
Could she live with that? She was going to have to. Either that, or back out of this project. Because Jan was going to be the third member of their marriage, from what she could see. And she couldn’t say he hadn’t warned her.
The next day, Callie took her lunch hour to go to see her mother-in-law from her first marriage. Marge Stevens
