“I think it is your business. I date occasionally, but there’s no one special in my life. And there’s no one in yours.” He arched an eyebrow. “Why did you and Barry Fowler break up?”
Juliana felt a prickle of annoyance that Cal Duncan had checked so thoroughly into her life. She was tempted to tell him it was none of his business why she’d stopped dating Barry, but she realized it was reasonable for him to ask.
“We were about to be engaged. The trouble started when it looked like I would take my sister’s boys. Barry didn’t like that, and it became an obstacle between us. Barry got a promotion and a transfer to Cleveland. He wanted me to leave the boys with my mother or grandmother and go with him. And then I found out he was dating someone else and hadn’t told me. If you have a serious relationship with someone, you should be open and honest with the person and be able to trust him.”
“I’d say that was incredibly poor judgment on his part.”
Surprised, she stared at him. “Look, Mr. Duncan, why did you want to talk to me about Elnora’s will?”
Cal felt his palms grow damp. “You’re forthright,” he remarked, still mulling over her statement about honesty and trust and feeling twinges of guilt. He had no intention of telling her why he needed the money and killing all his chances of getting it. But his conscience nagged him for an- other reason. He had silently accused Juliana of being a gold digger, yet he was the mercenary one after money and she had three boys to support.
“I’m also curious,” she replied.
He sipped his wine and wished he had ordered a stronger drink. The idea of tying his life to three children made him break out in a sweat. He thought of his orderly life, his hours of riding and fishing and reading law books at night in his quiet house. His blessed solitude. And he thought of all the money involved. Elnora’s will had stipulated the marriage had to last a year and after that the money was theirs. One year was not forever. How disturbing could three boys be? He studied Juliana Aldrich. No difficulty there- she was good-looking, intelligent, and evidently he had misjudged her. Yet, she had fought off that bank robber, so money was important to some extent. But who was he to judge? He wouldn’t be considering Elnora’s will except for his own desperate need for the money.
He felt as if he were standing on the edge of a yawning abyss. “Juliana, the Siever estate is an enormous fortune that you and I could both use. You have three boys to raise. I need money for my practice,” he stated, his conscience screaming at him for lying to her, when she’d said trust was important. “I think we should marry.”
Stunned, Juliana involuntarily jerked as she was lifting the glass of water to her mouth. It sloshed out and ice wa- ter spilled across the front of her dress. “Ahh!” She dabbed at her dress, her heart thudding. Even though she had an- ticipated this proposal ever since he’d asked her to dinner to discuss the will, she was still shocked to hear the words. Even after thinking all night about what a marriage to Caleb Duncan would mean, she still wasn’t sure of her answer.
“Your suggestion startled me. I don’t know that mar- riage would be feasible for us. We’re total strangers,” she said, her words tumbling together. He pushed aside his sil- verware and carefully moved the glass of wine. Then he leaned forward, his dark eyes leveling on hers. As she looked into their black depths, she shivered and knew he meant every word he’d said.
“You need money for the boys, don’t you?”
“Not that badly,” she answered, barely able to get out her reply. She felt imprisoned by his gaze, held by the invisible bonds of his will. Thoughts tumbled wildly in her head. He must be as greedy as sin.
“Elnora’s will specifies that the marriage has to last one year,” Cal said in a quiet voice that held a note of steel. “That’s only twelve months. I’ve known men to take a prison sentence for a longer time to get the kind of money we’re considering.”
“Marriage is just too impossible to contemplate,” she said, barely able to breathe, still unable to look away from him. Her heart drummed wildly.
“No, it’s not impossible,” he said in the same firm tone that brooked no argument. “There’s no man in your life.”
“I don’t need you to fill the void!” Something flickered in the depths of his eyes; if the moment had not been so tense, she would have suspected she saw amusement there. “You don’t lose cases, do you?”
“Not often,” he replied.
She shook her head, and with an effort of will, closed her eyes. There, she had broken free of his damnable, compel- ling gaze. Marriage. All that money for the boys. She gave a little shake and opened her eyes, carefully avoiding look- ing at him.
“It would be a marriage of convenience,” he stated qui- etly, as if he were reading the terms of a contract, and she realized that was probably how he thought about this.
“I can’t believe I’m hearing you correctly. I don’t even know you. How old are you?”
Again, she thought she saw a flash of amusement, but it was gone as swiftly as it had come. “Thirty-four. I went to Texas University on a baseball scholarship. I went on to law school. My parents live in Dallas and I’ll take you to meet them. I have a brother who is a car salesman and lives in Fort Worth, and we seldom see him. I’ve never been
