Read Online Trouble In Triplicate by Barbara Boswell - Free Book Online
Authors: Barbara Boswell
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wanted him as much as he wanted her, and the realization was enormously pleasing.
"I want you to kiss me . . . hard," she said, her eyes dark with hunger.
"Oh, Juliet," he said, his voice raspy. "You'd better watch what you ask for or—"
"I may get it?" Juliet finished enticingly. "Oh, Caine, I hope so!"
She clutched his head and held it to hers, opening her mouth under his, tempting, teasing, deepening the kiss with an ardent expertise she had never dreamed she possessed. She was dizzy with excitement, out of her head with the passion flaring between them in this dark, rainswept night.
"I beg your pardon," a voice intruded, "but unless you're conducting some kind of experiment by using yourselves as a lightning rod, I would advise you both to get in out of the rain."
Caine lifted his head at the sound of the flat, slightly nasal voice. Juliet stared dazedly at the man who stood beside them, clutching a black umbrella. He was at least six or seven inches shorter than Caine.
"Mark!" she gasped, half wondering if he were an apparition. She was still somewhat lost in the hazy throes of passion. "Wh—what are you doing here?"
"I'm on my way to your house to borrow some olive oil." Mark adjusted his glasses with one hand and his umbrella with the other. "Sherry needs it for the lasagna she's making for dinner tonight," he added rather proudly.
"Go on in, Mark," Juliet said. "Liwy's there, she'll give it to you."
Mark beamed. "Thanks, neighbor! And . . . er, seriously, you shouldn't be standing out here with all this lightning. There's been a tornado watch issued for Albemarle and Fluvanna counties until midnight tonight."
"He's right, of course," Caine said, his voice still husky with unslaked desire. The sound of it sent sensuous shivers along Juliet's every nerve ending. He opened the car door and set her in the front bucket seat, then raced around the car to join her inside.
They rode in silence to the Charlottesville city limits. Juliet was thoroughly disconcerted by their passionate interlude in the rain. Once again she'd lost all control, all sense of timing and place, when Caine had taken her into his arms. I could make your head spin in bed, Juliet. The words he'd spoken yesterday echoed softly, tauntingly in her brain. He could make her head spin anywhere, she acknowledged nervously.
She cast a covert glance at him. What was he thinking? That she was hot and hungry for him? She feared he had good reason to think just that. Any woman who went wild in the middle of a tornado watch could certainly be considered an easy score.
And Caine Saxon kept score! His scoreboard was the wall of his restaurant, where his conquests were framed and hung. He'd carried the notion of notches on the bedpost to new heights! Not her, Juliet promised herself. She was not joining that rogue's gallery. She'd always been one of a crowd, but—
"Now I remember!"
Caine's exclamation cut in on her reverie.
He was smiling broadly. "Mark Walsh! He's your neighbor, the one you introduced to Sherry Carson, Channel 42's weather girl. And he has a date with Sherry tonight. He's borrowing olive oil for the lasagna she's cooking for him."
"It sounds promising," Juliet said thoughtfully. "I hope so. Mark is such a nice man, but he's very shy. I know he's been lonely."
"Nice, shy, lonely guy, huh? With two dates for tonight?"
"What do you mean?" And then she remembered. Olivia had told Caine that Juliet had a date with Mark Walsh tonight.
Caine remembered too. "Why did your sister tell me you had a date with Walsh tonight?"
"She was trying to be fiendishly scheming, like your sister," Juliet retorted.
"Uh-oh, I recognize a defensive play when I see one. I'm throwing down the penalty flag, honey. No personal fouls allowed."
"Will you kindly translate? I've made it a point to know as little about football as possible."
"You'll love the game after I've explained it to you. Now, leaving both of our sisters out of it, what's this about a
"I want you to kiss me . . . hard," she said, her eyes dark with hunger.
"Oh, Juliet," he said, his voice raspy. "You'd better watch what you ask for or—"
"I may get it?" Juliet finished enticingly. "Oh, Caine, I hope so!"
She clutched his head and held it to hers, opening her mouth under his, tempting, teasing, deepening the kiss with an ardent expertise she had never dreamed she possessed. She was dizzy with excitement, out of her head with the passion flaring between them in this dark, rainswept night.
"I beg your pardon," a voice intruded, "but unless you're conducting some kind of experiment by using yourselves as a lightning rod, I would advise you both to get in out of the rain."
Caine lifted his head at the sound of the flat, slightly nasal voice. Juliet stared dazedly at the man who stood beside them, clutching a black umbrella. He was at least six or seven inches shorter than Caine.
"Mark!" she gasped, half wondering if he were an apparition. She was still somewhat lost in the hazy throes of passion. "Wh—what are you doing here?"
"I'm on my way to your house to borrow some olive oil." Mark adjusted his glasses with one hand and his umbrella with the other. "Sherry needs it for the lasagna she's making for dinner tonight," he added rather proudly.
"Go on in, Mark," Juliet said. "Liwy's there, she'll give it to you."
Mark beamed. "Thanks, neighbor! And . . . er, seriously, you shouldn't be standing out here with all this lightning. There's been a tornado watch issued for Albemarle and Fluvanna counties until midnight tonight."
"He's right, of course," Caine said, his voice still husky with unslaked desire. The sound of it sent sensuous shivers along Juliet's every nerve ending. He opened the car door and set her in the front bucket seat, then raced around the car to join her inside.
They rode in silence to the Charlottesville city limits. Juliet was thoroughly disconcerted by their passionate interlude in the rain. Once again she'd lost all control, all sense of timing and place, when Caine had taken her into his arms. I could make your head spin in bed, Juliet. The words he'd spoken yesterday echoed softly, tauntingly in her brain. He could make her head spin anywhere, she acknowledged nervously.
She cast a covert glance at him. What was he thinking? That she was hot and hungry for him? She feared he had good reason to think just that. Any woman who went wild in the middle of a tornado watch could certainly be considered an easy score.
And Caine Saxon kept score! His scoreboard was the wall of his restaurant, where his conquests were framed and hung. He'd carried the notion of notches on the bedpost to new heights! Not her, Juliet promised herself. She was not joining that rogue's gallery. She'd always been one of a crowd, but—
"Now I remember!"
Caine's exclamation cut in on her reverie.
He was smiling broadly. "Mark Walsh! He's your neighbor, the one you introduced to Sherry Carson, Channel 42's weather girl. And he has a date with Sherry tonight. He's borrowing olive oil for the lasagna she's cooking for him."
"It sounds promising," Juliet said thoughtfully. "I hope so. Mark is such a nice man, but he's very shy. I know he's been lonely."
"Nice, shy, lonely guy, huh? With two dates for tonight?"
"What do you mean?" And then she remembered. Olivia had told Caine that Juliet had a date with Mark Walsh tonight.
Caine remembered too. "Why did your sister tell me you had a date with Walsh tonight?"
"She was trying to be fiendishly scheming, like your sister," Juliet retorted.
"Uh-oh, I recognize a defensive play when I see one. I'm throwing down the penalty flag, honey. No personal fouls allowed."
"Will you kindly translate? I've made it a point to know as little about football as possible."
"You'll love the game after I've explained it to you. Now, leaving both of our sisters out of it, what's this about a
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