“How about getting married two weeks from Satur- day?”
“That’s so soon,” Juliana said, biting her lower lip, drawing attention to her mouth that looked soft and sen- sual. He tried to remember what he had been saying, and with an effort pulled his gaze back to hers.
“Why wait? We can have a small wedding—” His eye- brows arched. “Did you want a big fancy wedding?”
“In a way, that would be nice,” she said with surprising wistfulness. Then her voice returned to her usual brisk tone. “But under the circumstances, I think we better have a small wedding. A very small one.”
“I agree,” he said, enormously relieved. “We’ll begin preparations as soon as possible. But for now, I think we both could use some sleep. I’ll take you home.”
As they walked out to the front door, Cal moved close to her side. “We might as well look at the house tomorrow. I’ll notify Willard about our plans. We can move our things over there right away. I have a pickup if you need to use it.”
When she gave him an exasperated look, he arched his eyebrows in question. “You don’t agree?” he asked as he held open the door and she walked outside. When she brushed past him on her way down the driveway, he caught an inviting fragrance.
She gave him another long look and he could feel her disapproval. “You’re taking charge.”
“You’re in charge of the wedding,” he said. “We’ll both look at the house. If you object to any of my suggestions, say so.”
“I will, Counselor.”
He never doubted she would. At the car, he paused, placing his hands on her shoulders, feeling the small bones that seemed so delicate. He was too aware of touching her and wondered why he was having such an unwanted fiery reaction to her. “I know you have lots of responsibilities right now. Your budget is stretched thin.”
Juliana closed her eyes in exasperation, and then looked up at him. “I hope I can adjust to the fact that you know all about me.”
“Not everything,” he said in a husky voice that suddenly changed the moment and made her doubly aware of how close he stood.
“There are some things you’re never going to know,” she said, meaning to sound firm, but the words came out sounding breathless, even to her ears.
He rubbed her chin with his forefinger in a slight touch that should have been impersonal, but was not. “I’ll pay for the wedding. Go get a long, white dress if you’d like.”
Startled, Juliana stared at him through the darkness, wishing she could discern his expression better. “You’ll pay?”
“You sound shocked.”
She was thankful then for the darkness that hid her hot cheeks, because she knew she was blushing with embarrass- ment. “I’m surprised because money seems important to you.”
“It’s damned important, but we’re going to have enough and you might as well have a wedding you want. Do what- ever you please.”
“That’s generous, but we should keep things simple be- cause it really is meaningless.” As she turned to the car, he reached around her to open the door. Her shoulder brushed against him slightly, yet she was aware of the faint contact. He closed the door and went around to slide behind the wheel.
They drove to her house in silence. He cut the engine and got out, walking around the car as she stepped out. He paused in front of her as they stood in the dark shadows of a tall sycamore.
While Juliana gazed up at him, he placed one hand ca- sually on her shoulder. Why couldn’t she be oblivious to his touches? There was something constantly disturbing about him, and all the slight contacts were stretching her nerves taut.
“This will be a marriage of convenience, nothing more,” he said quietly, “yet it’s going to throw us into a close rela- tionship. And we have to have a wedding. So, here’s to friendship.” Taking his hand from her shoulder, he held it out and she placed her fingers in his, feeling his warm, sure grip as they shook. With his other hand beneath her chin, he tilted her head up. “It might be nice if our first kiss isn’t in front of everyone at our wedding,” he said softly, and her pulse fluttered. His hand slid behind her head. He drew her closer as he leaned down to brush her lips with his.
“I don’t—” She started to protest. They didn’t need to kiss except to exchange a customary light kiss at the wed- ding, but his lips brushed hers as if he hadn’t heard her speak. At the moment of contact, heat spun from his touch and she forgot about what she was saying.
His mouth moved so lightly on hers, igniting a longing that startled her. He brushed her lips again, just the merest touch, yet it was tantalizing and so faint that it would be ri- diculous to protest what he was doing. But as slight as his kiss was, it sparked a fire in her. Her body became heated. He straightened, looking down at her, his gaze unreadable in the darkness, and she felt the need to move away from him. “I better go inside.”
“I’ll meet you at the house tomorrow,” he said. “What time will be convenient?”
“Eleven o’clock,” she answered, barely thinking about her words, her lips still tingling. “Thanks for dinner,” she said perfunctorily. She hurried away from him, crossing the yard. As she stepped into the darkened house, she heard him drive away. She touched her lips, stunned by the impact of a faint kiss that should have meant nothing. Instead, it had stirred an unwanted response and she knew if he had pulled her into his arms and really kissed her, she would have let him.
“No,” she whispered, remembering Barry, remembering how she had been hurt before. “No, Caleb Duncan. I won’t give you my heart,” she whispered softly as she went to her room.
“This is Quin.
