The Family Plan (21 page)

Oh, God.
Caitlin felt unexpected tears threaten. She wrapped her arms around Isabelle’s fragile little body and squeezed gently, her watery gaze meeting Nathan’s over the child’s head.

He gave her a lopsided smile that seemed to say, “Now you understand why I couldn’t give her up.”

She had understood his reasoning all along, of course. She simply didn’t know if she was ready to make such a permanent commitment herself.

Nathan restrained himself to a kiss on her cheek as he passed her on the way out the door. “See you tomorrow.”

“Be careful out there fighting crime, Superman,” she murmured, then closed the door behind him and leaned her forehead against the wood.

She wished she had a few superpowers of her own—the ability to see the future among them.

Straightening, she spotted the folded letter she had tucked into a basket on a cherry side table close to the door. She still hadn’t told Nathan about hearing from Tom, or about the possibility that she could be interviewed for a fast-track position in Los Angeles.

She didn’t know what was holding her back. Maybe she didn’t know what she would tell him if he asked if she really wanted that interview.

Because Nathan got held up in an unexpected client meeting Saturday, barely getting away in time to make the symphony performance, he arranged by phone for Caitlin to meet him at his house. That way, they agreed, he would have time to change and they could leave straight from his place.

She had assured him that she, of all people, understood the sometimes-inconvenient demands of work, and didn’t mind making a few concessions because of his career duties.

Fayrene Tuckerman answered the door when Caitlin rang Nathan’s bell. “Good evening, Ms. Briley,” she said, ushering Caitlin inside. “Don’t you look lovely this evening.”

Caitlin had worn her simple black sheath with a beaded black jacket and heeled black sandals. She had pinned her hair up and secured it with a couple of glittery hairpins. Her only other jewelry was a pair of diamond stud earrings. “Thank you, Mrs. Tuckerman. Is Nathan ready?”

“He just dashed in and went straight to his room to shower and change. He said to tell you he would join you in a few minutes. May I get you something to drink while you wait?”

“No, thank you. I’ll just—”

“Miss Caitlin! Miss Caitlin!”

Caitlin braced herself. A moment later Isabelle threw her arms around Caitlin’s legs and squeezed as enthusiastically as if it had been weeks since they had last seen each other rather than just a couple of days.

“Hello, Isabelle.” Caitlin returned the hug. “What happened to your friend Supergirl?”

Isabelle giggled. “She went back to Krypton till next Halloween.”

“Gee, I hope she’ll write us sometime.”

The child was obviously delighted with Caitlin’s silliness. She beamed up at her. “Are you going on a date with Nate?” she asked, relishing the rhyme.

“Nathan and I are going to the symphony.”

“Mrs. T. brought some games. She’s going to teach me to play Trouble and checkers.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“Do you like to play games?”

“Yes, occasionally.”

“Will you play with me sometime?”

“I’d love to.”

Nathan stumbled into the room, still shoving his arms into his suit jacket. His hair was damp and his tie crooked, but he was smiling when his eyes met Caitlin’s.

“Sorry,” he said. “Kirk Sawyer got himself arrested for DWI again, and he insisted that I come down to the police station. I told him this is it—he’s going to have to find another lawyer from now on.”

Kirk Sawyer was a local sports hero who had played four seasons with a professional football team before ruining his knees and ending his career. He’d spent the ten years since strutting around town, filming cheesy commercials for his father’s successful car dealership and partying.

Had he not been who he was, he would already be serving time, but his reputation and his father’s money carried a bit too much weight in this town. Nathan wasn’t the first local lawyer who’d gotten tired of defending him.

Isabelle studied him critically. “Your tie’s messed up, Nate.”

He tugged at it, which succeeded in skewing it worse.

Caitlin shook her head. “Let me,” she said, stepping forward. She straightened the tie quickly and efficiently, looking up at him through her eyelashes.

He smiled down at her, obviously enjoying her attentions. “Thank you. You do that very well.”

“My father never learned how to tie a necktie. Not that he needed to wear one often. He only had one that he wore to weddings, funerals and the occasional job interview.”

Aware that Isabelle and Mrs. T. were watching them with interest, she patted the tie and stepped back. “There. That looks much better, doesn’t it, Isabelle?”

“Yes. Miss Caitlin looks pretty, doesn’t she, Nate?”

“Miss Caitlin looks beautiful,” he replied, and his tone made Caitlin fight a blush.

“Thank you. And now we had better go before we miss the opening number,” she said, carefully avoiding the housekeeper’s eyes as she turned toward the door.

“Have fun at the sympathy,” Isabelle called after them.

Nathan laughed. “I would correct her, but it just sounded too appropriate,” he told Caitlin as he opened the passenger door of his car for her.

Her own smile lasted until they were on the road. All of a sudden she was too intensely aware that she and Nathan were on a date. Sort of. And all of a sudden she could think of absolutely nothing to say.

As inconceivable as the notion seemed, Nathan appeared to be suffering from a similar problem. He cleared his throat. “So. We’re really doing this. Going out, I mean.”

She frowned intently through the windshield. “It’s hardly the first time we’ve spent an evening together. We’ve done things together in the past.”

“Those other times were for business. This is different.”

“We’re simply attending the symphony together, not slipping away for a weekend in Vegas.”

He grinned. “Actually, that Vegas thing sounds pretty good. We could be at the airport in forty-five minutes.”

She slanted him a look. “I doubt your baby-sitter would appreciate that.”

“You’re probably right. So how about if we slipped off to Disney World, instead? We can take Isabelle.”

“How about if we just attend the sympathy, I mean, the symphony,” she corrected herself quickly.

He chuckled. “Careful. The poppet wears off on you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She settled back into her seat and ordered herself to relax for the remainder of the evening. After all, she told herself sternly, this was merely a date. And he was only Nathan, a man she had known quite comfortably for almost a year now.

So why wasn’t she at all comfortable with him tonight?

Chapter Twelve

T
he concert hall was crowded, and there were many people in attendance Caitlin and Nathan knew. No one seemed particularly surprised to see them there together. Was it simply assumed they were there as friends and business partners, or did most people already consider them a couple?

Caitlin couldn’t help wondering what was being said about them, but she decided not to dwell on it tonight. It certainly wasn’t as if she had any control over local gossip.

She did notice as they swapped greetings on their way to their seats that no one mentioned Isabelle. Or Nathan’s mother. But maybe that was just as well, she thought, taking her seat and preparing to enjoy the performance.

Of course, it was hard to concentrate on the music when she was so very aware of the man sitting in the seat beside her. His shoulder brushed against hers, and when he shifted his long legs in the narrow space provided for them, their thighs made contact.

She felt ridiculously like a schoolgirl on her first date, so painfully self-conscious that her mouth was dry. When his hand slipped over the shared arm of their chairs to entwine with hers in the darkness, she completely forgot the theme of the program.

Mozart or Mendelssohn? Bach or the Beatles? She wasn’t sure she could have said just then.

How could she have imagined there were so many erogenous zones in her hand? She had never suspected, for example, that the skin between her fingers was so sensitive. And when his thumb rotated slowly in the center of her palm, she felt heat rush through her, pooling somewhere deep inside her abdomen. She kept her eyes focused fiercely on the stage, though she no longer cared who was doing what there.

She made it through intermission by plastering a smile on her face and nodding brightly in response to everything that was said to her, though she wasn’t sure she actually heard a word of it. She was, however, all too keenly conscious of every time Nathan rested a hand at the center of her back or touched her arm or smiled at her.

Her emotions had swung from bemused to despairing. This was
not
the way she preferred to behave in public! Here she had an excellent opportunity to mingle, to discreetly drop the name of their firm into casual conversations, to make potentially important business connections, and what was she doing? Blushing and daydreaming like a silly schoolgirl. Acting more like a woman in the throes of her first big infatuation than an intelligent, L.A.-quality attorney.

Even that fleeting thought of Los Angeles made her swallow hard. She really should tell Nathan about Tom’s letter. Just as important, she really should give Tom a more definitive response than the vague interest she had expressed thus far.

Nathan held her hand again during the second part of the program. Such a simple little gesture, almost innocently sweet. Yet there was nothing at all innocent about her reaction. She wanted to climb all over him.

They were rather quiet again during the drive back to Nathan’s house. It was getting late, and she could have used the excuse that she was tired, but she wasn’t. She was more wired than she’d been in a long time.

“Come in for a little while,” Nathan said when he’d parked in his garage. “We’ll have coffee or something.”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure I—”

“Please.”

She moistened her lips. “All right.”

It was well after 10:00 p.m., so Isabelle was sleeping. Mrs. T. sat at the kitchen table reading. She looked up with a smile when they walked in. “Did you enjoy the performance?”

“It was very nice,” Caitlin replied, fervently hoping she wouldn’t be expected to give any details.

The housekeeper closed her book and stood. “I’ll be on my way now. Isabelle was an angel, as always. A bit quieter than usual, I thought, especially as the night wore on, but I suppose that’s because she’s grown accustomed to having you here with her in the evenings, Mr. McCloud. She’s sleeping now. I just looked in on her. And I made a fresh pot of coffee—decaf, of course, since it’s so late. I thought you and Ms. Briley might like to have a cup while you talk about your evening.”

Nathan smiled warmly. “Have I mentioned that you’re a treasure?”

Her eyebrows lifted in what appeared to be surprise that he felt it necessary to state the obvious. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Mr. McCloud. Nice to see you again, Ms. Briley.”

With a faint ripple of panic, Caitlin watched the forceful, prosaic housekeeper leave. With the exception of the toddler sleeping in the other room, she and Nathan were alone now with the feelings that had been simmering between them all evening, steadily reaching boiling point.

Though his gaze was on her face, as if reading the emotions reflected there, Nathan moved toward the counter and spoke casually, “Coffee?”

“I should probably go soon. It’s getting late.”

“Mrs. T. went to the trouble to make coffee for us. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”

“Well, maybe just one cup.”

He gave her a smile of approval and poured steaming coffee into the two cups that had been conveniently left out for them. “Just cream, right?”

“Yes, please.” She took a couple of steps toward him to retrieve her cup.

Holding the cup in his hand, he turned. Their eyes met. Very slowly he replaced the cup on the counter, leaving his hands free.

She went into his arms as if she had intended to do so all along.

For once, Nathan wasn’t smooth. Their noses bumped when he swooped down to kiss her. She felt a tremor in his arms, an indication of the tension that had been building in him all night. And then he kissed her until she was the one trembling and clinging to him for support.

Cupping her face between his hands, he lifted his mouth only far enough to murmur rather fiercely, “If you only knew how long I’ve wanted you.”

She felt as if she had been waiting all her life for this moment. And now that it was here, it petrified her. “I don’t—”

He kissed her again, his tongue plunging between her lips to mate with hers. And somehow her hands were tangled in his hair, her legs entwined with his as he pressed her against the refrigerator door. He devoured her mouth, and she responded with an equal hunger, flattening herself against him so that she could feel every hard muscle in his body against her. And she reveled in the growing hardness that proved he wanted her as mindlessly as she wanted him.

A low growl rumbled in his chest, a primitive, utterly male sound that seduced her as pretty words never could. There was such delicious power in knowing he wanted her so badly. Such a feminine thrill in the awareness that she could make him tremble with need.

“There are still so many things we need to discuss,” she murmured into his mouth, trying to retain at least a modicum of common sense. “Things we need to think about.”

“Let’s not think tonight,” he groaned, sliding his hands down her sides and resting his forehead against hers. “Just this once, let’s not think.”

Act without thinking? Without planning? Without considering all the possibilities and ramifications? How totally unlike her.

“I want you, Caitlin.”

“I want you, too,” she whispered, because it would be pointless not to admit it. “But—”

He kissed the arguments back into her mouth. “Just for tonight, can’t we let that be enough?” he asked when he lifted his head again.