Just One Taste Part 17

"I gather it didn't go well?"

"Not particularly."

"She sounded really upset, Cade."

I'll bet she is, he thought. She's probably having breakfast with Hitler and Hirohito right now. Or maybe Charles Dodson and Charles d.i.c.kens. It was the best of times, the worst of times in Wonderland. Anything was possible in her fantasy world.

"I'll take care of it. Just take a message if she calls back, Dee. Anything else on the docket today?"

"Brian's finis.h.i.+ng up the Dinerstore catalog. He's bringing it by before he goes on vacation. I'll cut him his check. I should be Fed-Exing the project this afternoon."

"Great, great. Thanks a lot, Dee. Have a good day."

"You betcha. And Cade?"

"Uh huh?"

"You need to put the past behind you."

Dee had no idea how right she was.

At 9:01 Juliet swallowed back her nerves and punched in Cade's number. Apparently, it wasn't really his number anymore, but his office number. She had no idea his technical writing career had taken such a successful turn. He had a snotty secretary and everything.

Well, Juliet admitted, if she had to answer the phone before 6:30 in the morning, she'd probably be snotty too. It surprised her that Cade, laid-back as he was, required his employees to come in at that hour. She knew he himself was an early riser, which is why she called, but it hardly seemed fair to require his staff to come in when he was still home.

She hadn't slept a wink. Her declaration yesterday had been a debacle. And she'd been so forward. She had actually proposed to Cade. It was as though centuries of demure, ladylike behavior had been erased by her brazen desperation.

"Gray Matters. How may I direct your call?"

"Uh, good morning again. This is Juliet Barton. Is Ca-Mr. Gray in?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Gray is not available. May I take a message?"

Juliet jumped as she heard an ear-splitting shriek on the other end of the phone. Before she could say a word, she heard, "Hold, please," and she was plugged into some bonging and dinging New Age music. The more she heard the calming refrains, the more anxious she became. She had just about tied her finger into a knot of hair when Cade's secretary came back on the line.

"I'm sorry. Ms. Barton, are you still there?"

"Yes, yes I am."

"Do you wish to leave a message?"

Juliet had a vision of the other woman tossing hundreds of little pink pieces of paper into some sleek trash can. "Perhaps I could just come down to the office and see Mr. Gray personally. Can you schedule an appointment for later today?"

"Come in? To the office? You want to, uh, make an appointment? For today?"

All the secretary's professionalism seemed to have deserted her. What kind of a place was Cade running with blood-curdling screaming and ditzy employees?

Juliet resurrected her coolest Lady Barton of Barton Manor voice. "That's correct. I wish to engage Mr. Gray's services."

"Oh, honey. Give it up. He doesn't want to see you."

"I beg your pardon?" Juliet pulled her finger out of her hair before she lost circulation in it.

"Julie, can I call you Julie? Cade's carried the torch for you for a year. But whatever you said to him yesterday freaked him out completely. He's moving on. You should too."

"Who are you?"

"I'm Cade's administrative a.s.sistant. And his cousin Deirdre. We all were supposed to go out for dinner together last September but I had the baby instead."

And Juliet had been jealous when Cade grinned like an ape announcing to everybody in the restaurant that he had a new second cousin.

"The baby's at work with you?"

"I work from home. Cade's been a fantastic boss."

Juliet thought a moment. "So there's no office."

"We all work from home, Julie. Brian, Cade and I. It's the Computer Age. Listen, I'd love to chat some more. You sound nice. But I gotta go. I can't hear Lindsay. That's a very bad sign. So goo-"

But Juliet had already hung the phone up. She had plans. She belted her long maroon sweatercoat, grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

Cade was sacked out on his leather couch. Around ten o'clock he'd given in to the droopy eyelids and given up trying to make sense out of a hand-written list of one-hundred- percent organic ingredients for a fledgling skincare company's brochure.

Just because he was going to take a nap in the morning didn't make him lazy. He was just tired. It wasn't as though he'd actually gone back into his bed. He'd rest his eyes for a few minutes...

He was having the most erotic dream of his life. Julie was naked. On her knees. Her white skin was polished, like pearls. His fingers slipped through the silk of her gilt-bronze hair, twisting the curls away from her upturned face. Her lashes left the faintest shadow on her cheeks, her lips were pursed in the most wicked smile. He leaned closer and the sweet warm haven of her mouth welcomed and worked his c.o.c.k with a skill her innocent blush belied. Groaning in his sleep, he never heard the back door open.

Jack woke up from his snooze on the mat in front of the sink, but didn't bark because it was JULIE!!! Only his pal Rufus wasn't there in person, just a fine bouquet of fox terrier fragrance wafting about. It had been a long time, but Jack put his nose right in her crotch, and it was JULIE!!! all right. She always smelled so good. He thought about jumping up to lick her neck, but knew she didn't like that, so he swiped his tongue on her hand instead and knocked her around with his tail.

"Sit," Juliet said primly, and Jack actually did.

She still had the key to what she euphemistically called "the garden entrance." Cade lived on the ground floor of a huge Victorian monstrosity that had been carved up into six s.p.a.cious apartments. He had a front door too, quite a lovely one with beveled gla.s.s and carving, but she had wanted to enter with some stealth. If Cade were true to form, he's be slaving away in his dining room-c.u.m-office. She was counting on the element of surprise, wanting to judge just how much he hated/feared/or maybe still loved her when she tiptoed up behind him.

Nothing at all had changed about Cade's place. When she'd entered the gate from the street, she saw that Cade was still somewhat lax in picking up his dog's landmines in his postage-stamp sized yard. The baseball bats and gloves were by the kitchen door, his cleats and their clumps of dirt proving he'd spent the past summer doing something other than yearning for her. There was half a pot of cold coffee on the counter, and the newspaper was spread out on the square pine table, open to the comics. Or perhaps Cade was checking out his horoscope. Reading Beware of people from your past, or some such thing.

"Stay," she said, and Juliet could almost see the disgruntlement on Jack's face. He heaved a sigh and lay back down. She went through the arch to the back hallway. The bathroom door to her left was open. Toilet seat up, of course. Juliet checked her reflection in a toothpaste-spotted mirror. The man really needed a cleaning lady. Or a wife, if wives still cleaned things these days. Most of her friends were far too busy with their careers to keep their homes tidy and decent domestic help was impossible to find. She fluffed her hair, thinking she looked a lot like Little Orphan Annie, except with pupils.

Juliet walked past the linen closet. She knew from experience that if she opened the door she would be a.s.saulted with rolling rolls of toilet paper and an avalanche of badly-folded towels. She peeked into the bedroom. The shades were still down, but there was no luscious lump of man under the plaid coverlet. Juliet stumbled over some balled-up socks and one athletic shoe in the dimness and overcame her urge to pick them up.

Cade was not precisely a slob, just rather casual and carefree. He would love her little cabin in the woods.

Juliet headed to the front of the apartment. Cade was not hunched over his desk in the dining room. She was surprised to see that his screensaver still had a picture of the two of them grinning like lovestruck imbeciles. It wasn't at all businesslike, which pleased her enormously.

Her elation was short-lived. Where was he? Perhaps he'd left the house to run some errands. Should she leave a note? He'd probably have her hauled up on charges for breaking and entering. She hadn't broken anything, but trespa.s.sing was a possibility. After Cade revealed what she'd told him to the authorities, no doubt she'd face years in a psycho ward, wearing itchy orange pajamas and eating Jello desserts. She'd outlive her jailers, languis.h.i.+ng in some dank, depressing cell, forced to watch cable TV to keep true insanity at bay. But perhaps that would not be efficacious after all. Orange wasn't the new black.

These unhappy thoughts were interrupted by a snorking sound coming from the couch in the living room. Of course. No wonder she hadn't seen him when she walked past the parlor. He was lying down. Sleeping, d.a.m.n him! How could he sleep, when she'd tossed and turned all night! She slipped the tiny chased silver pistol out of her purse and put it in the pocket of her knit coat. One look at Cade's face when he woke up would tell her if she had to use it.

He pulled her to him, his brown arm on her belly in stark contrast to the pure whiteness of her skin. But that wasn't right. She was ivory, alabaster. A watercolor artist had washed the faintest rose stain with the finest sable brush across her cheeks. Soon she would flush darker with their lovemaking, a sheen of glowing satin illuminating each lush inch of her.

He plucked a sweet pale nipple between his fingers, then suckled it between his lips and teeth. He could easily drown in the cream and berry taste of her, immerse himself and never choose to come up for air. Better yet to float with her, to cus.h.i.+on himself within her hot, honeyed core, to lift her higher to the heavens, to smother each fevered cry until she splintered apart, a rain of diamond crystals falling to earth. He'd kiss each eyelash free of silvered tears, hold her in brief respite in his arms, then f.u.c.k her all over again.

"What are your plans for me, my lord?" she asked, her voice a silken thread neatly st.i.tching his desire to his heart.

That accent. English and southern and oh so seductive.

"I shall love you now, and love you later." His hand rested between the pillows of her thighs. So soft. So soft everywhere, as though she were made of clouds and cotton.

"Do you promise?" A smile played on her lips. He kissed her, dispatching words away, for they were not important. One finger sought to please her. Then another. She stretched beside him, her polished skin as smooth and tempting as velvet. He studied her as she closed her eyes. She was a lesson worth learning. Each stroke drove her closer. Deeper. She raised her lids, the knowledge of her need plain. His tongue replaced his hand, teasing and tormenting until she cried out his name.

It was his turn now. She was begging, her small hand guiding him between her slick folds. He kissed his way up to her pulsing throat as she repeated his name over and over. This was more than right; this was perfect, no matter what she'd said, no matter what she'd done. The pa.s.sing year had only fueled the fury and the radiance of their reunion. Ah. Alliteration. The beggar at the banquet table. The wolf in the wind. The recourse of the resourceless writer. Unworthy words. Why was his evil editor in this d.a.m.nable dream? And still, she called to his conscience, her cry as clear as could be, Cade, Cade, CADE!

He woke with a start to find Juliet leaning over him, her face not a foot away from his. "Jesus, Mary and Joseph! How the f.u.c.k did you get in here? Get the h.e.l.l out of my house!"

She stepped back and reached into her pocket. "I was afraid of this," she said sadly.

Chapter 5.

Cade was strapped into the front seat of Juliet's merlot Taurus, his wrists and ankles bound together with the fresh clothesline that Juliet had pulled out of her voluminous bag. One of the few ties he owned, navy with thick yellow stripes, had been efficiently knotted behind his head, preventing him from spewing and spitting a volley of vicious curse words. There were a couple of bottles of actual merlot and some other supplies in a big grocery box in the back seat, the dogs lying on either side of it, sleeping off their lickfest. Juliet's little gun rested in her lap. She was singing along to some country c.r.a.p on the radio, looking relentlessly cheerful and unrepentant, her curls blowing merrily in the breeze of the half-mast window.

He was going to have to escape somehow. He couldn't believe they could travel north on I-95 for four hours and not have one other motorist think it was odd to see him gagged with his own necktie. What was the world coming to? One woman actually gave Juliet a thumbs-up as she pa.s.sed. He looked down at the plastic urinal on the floor by his feet. Juliet truly had thought of everything.

When she woke him up from the best-most literary d.a.m.n dream he'd ever had, he'd had a hard-on, which rapidly diminished in size when she pulled that toy gun on him. Except it wasn't a toy. He'd seen it in the drawer behind her the antique cash register in her shop. She had been robbed once in Charleston, and it was better to be safe than sorry, she'd said. They'd had an argument about it last year that he didn't win.

Well, he was going to win this one. If she thought she could kidnap him, hold a f.u.c.king gun on him and get away with it, she had another think coming. Kidnapping was a federal offense. He'd done a lot of research for his current work-in-progress, because his hero Chase had kidnapped the heroine Jennifer to save her from the Mob because she was too d.a.m.ned stubborn to listen to reason. Jennifer had haughtily threatened Chase with a laundry list of legal consequences right before they had really hot s.e.x in the back of his Tahoe.

Cade was definitely not going to have hot or cold s.e.x in the backseat of a Taurus. He figured Juliet might get out of prison early with good behavior, but she'd be locked up until she was really an old lady.

Reason. Hah. Juliet had told him while she skillfully tied him up with one hand, his own d.a.m.n dog wagging his tail as she held the gun to his head, that he needed to listen to reason. That she had proof of her past. That once he'd seen it, he could help her rewrite some c.o.c.kamamie spell because he was so talented and clever. She had thought of a way last night which wouldn't threaten his physical well-being in any way. She was almost entirely certain of it.

Oh, yeah. That made him feel a lot better. He wasn't gonna die or blow up today, yay.

He could have tried to knock her over, one good shove, but the gun was close and she was crazy. So here they were, six miles down a dirt road in the middle of f.u.c.king Nowhere, Maine. He knew it was six miles because she hadn't blindfolded him. He was watching the odometer with avid interest.

Before they'd made their right-hand turn, they'd pa.s.sed a row of mailboxes. Good. That meant other houses might be ahead. So far, he hadn't seen anything but glimpses of bright blue lake through the trees and random chipmunks skittering across the road. As if she were mind-reading, Juliet turned the radio down.

"All the cottages are closed up for the season, you know. The town doesn't plow this road in the winter. Most of the families live out-of-state, too. We'll have all the privacy we need."

Cade at least had been happy to see power lines. He hoped Juliet had a flush toilet. She went over a rut in the road that kicked up his kidneys. How much further could her h.e.l.lhole be? He was not going to use the urinal.

She slowed down and made a turn into what looked like an ungroomed snowmobile trail, overhung with branches. More b.u.mping ensued and he prayed he wouldn't embarra.s.s himself. The dogs sat up in the backseat and pressed their noses to the windows, tails thumping. The box's contents s.h.i.+fted and jostled, the wine bottles clinking together.

At least Juliet didn't seem to want to starve him.

"You boys have been so-oh good, yes, you ha-ave," Juliet said in dog baby-talk. "Won't they be happy to get out of the car and run free?"

"Unhee hoo." Me too, said Cade.

Jesus G.o.d. They'd gone another two miles on gra.s.s and dirt through a gloom-infested forest. The Brothers Grimm couldn't have done justice to it. Cade half-expected to see hairy ogres and trolls around every bend in the road. But suddenly they were rolling down a hill straight toward the lake. Cade closed his eyes and hoped her brakes worked.

"Here we are!" Juliet's face was lit with happiness. Cade wanted to slap the smile off her face but he'd never hit a woman in his life, or wanted to, before now. "I'm going to let the dogs out first and check the cottage. You'll be all right here for a minute, won't you?"