Breathless Descent (5 page)

Shay knew it, too—he sensed it in her increasing response. The way she lifted to her toes, the way her tongue softly caressed and then reached deeper, seeking more. He slanted his mouth over hers, giving her what she requested. Her reply was a delicate purring sound deep in her throat, barely audible, but so seductive. Her fingers walked up his chest and twined behind his neck, her chest hugging his. Their hips aligned and, yes, he was hard again. A half-naked Shay, kissing him like there was no tomorrow, could have gotten him hard behind enemy lines, under fire. Instead, they were isolated, in a dark pantry, which was enhancing the sense of taste and touch. He told himself to pull away, to drag her out of the pantry before they were discovered. This was meant to be a quick kiss, the kiss that tore down barriers and took them beyond the “what if?” to “what next?”

She had him vibrating with need. He hesitated. Actually, it was one of his hips vibrating. Like… Shay tore her mouth from his. “Phone,” she whispered and reached for her hip, the one resting against his vibrating one.

Okay. Maybe the kiss wasn’t as good for her as it was for him, because she was actually planning to answer the call.

Her hand flattened on his chest, and she answered his unspoken worries, as if she sensed his thoughts. “I have my service on a special vibrate alarm. I’m not on call. They wouldn’t call unless it’s urgent.”

Understanding inked into his mind about the same moment she reached for the door. She was about to exit when she leaned back toward him and pointed. “We…we…” Exasperation laced her voice, the darkness shrouding her features. “I don’t know what to say.”

She opened the door and darted out. Caleb was about to follow when it slammed on him. He grimaced about the time Kent’s voice filtered through the air. “We decided to start the poker game early. Where’s Caleb? We want his dime involved.”

Oh, crap. The poker game was at the kitchen table, the eat-in table by the patio door overlooking the kitchen. Shay wasn’t trapped, but he was.

“Where is he?” Kent asked.

“In the pantry,” Shay said matter-of-factly.

“Why the heck is he in the pantry?”

“He went in to look for the cookies Mom made for him,” she said, and instantly a lightbulb went off in Caleb’s mind. He flipped the light on and started looking for the Tupperware container Sharon always hid his cookies in so Kent wouldn’t eat them all. He found it on the second shelf and opened the lid.

“That doesn’t explain why the door is shut,” Kent said, suspicious.

“I shut him in to shut him up. He’s a nag, like you. I have to call my service. I have some sort of emergency.”

Caleb opened the door with a cookie in his mouth as Shay headed down the hall, phone in hand. “This is Dr. Shay White,” she was saying.

Caleb eyed Kent. “Don’t even think about touching my cookies.”

Kent laughed and walked toward him, determined to snatch a cookie. “You can bet them on a hand of poker.”

“Forget it,” Caleb said. He’d never been a lucky poker player. The question was, had his gamble with Shay paid off? And how long was it going to be before he could get her alone and find out? He’d come too far to turn back. Soon, he vowed. Tonight, if he had his way. Though it hadn’t been planned like that, her parents would be gone for almost two weeks. A perfect time to get the apple off the tree, and then reattach it permanently. He and Shay were going to work off the fascination. It was a better plan than walking around on pins and needles—the only plan he had.

A flashback of Caleb pulling her into the pantry played in her head. Of the feel of his hard body pressed to her. Good gosh, she was a mess. Shay leaned on the sink and turned off the dryer. Her eyes were glossy with the memory, and she could still taste him on her lips, still feel his hands on her body. His hot-and-cold routine had officially reached extreme levels and so had her body’s demand for satisfaction.
Hot and cold,
she reminded herself. Whatever got into Caleb in that kitchen wouldn’t last. There was no reason to panic. They would put this behind them like they had every other “almost” moment, despite the fact that this time didn’t exactly rank as an “almost” worthy event.

Thank goodness a patient had given her an excuse for leaving the party early. Shay stopped at the full-length mirror and sighed. Faded jeans and a
Sex and the City
T-shirt hardly seemed the right attire for an office visit, but she didn’t have time for a trip home.

Shoving her purse over her shoulder, she headed for the doorway, remembering the night she and her friend Anna—a doctor who worked in her building—had gone to the
Sex and the City
movie for a girl’s night out. Shay had often seen Caleb as her “Mr. Big,” the kind of guy you want but never really have. But then, shockingly, during the movie the heroine, Carrie, had gotten her man—and married Big.

Shay had been happy, sad, confused…irrationally bothered by the loss of her Big/Caleb comparison, which had been oddly comforting but no longer existed.

Shay shoved aside her movie reverie as she entered the kitchen and found Caleb, Kent, her father and several other males sitting at the table, the poker game in full swing. The instant her gaze landed on Caleb, her breath lodged in her throat. Fortunately, she was quiet enough to go unnoticed, which allotted her a second to compose herself. That was, until she noticed who was sitting next to her father. With cards in her hand.

“Mom?” Shay asked in surprise. “What’s going on? You don’t gamble.”

“Hey, sweetie,” Sharon said, setting her cards face-down and then smacking Bob’s hand when he tried to look at them. She smiled at Shay. “Someone has to keep him from losing all our money before Italy.” She held up a wineglass. “Have some wine. It’s excellent.”

The kiss, her mother gambling—had she fallen asleep and woken up in another dimension? Suddenly aware of the warm blanket of Caleb’s attention, Shay said, “Can’t. I have to go to the office and meet a patient.”

“On a Saturday night?” Caleb asked, forcing her to acknowledge him.

“Dressed like that,” Kent added, eying her ripped-style jeans.

Irritably, Shay defended herself. “It’s all I have with me.”

“What in the world is such an emergency that you have to meet the client now?” her father grumbled.

Shay leaned on the island counter. “This client—” she intentionally left out the name for privacy reasons “—lost his wife three years ago in a mugging. The sudden trauma of losing her has created an obsessive-compulsive disorder. Two months ago—”

“Obsessive-compulsive disorder?” Caleb interrupted, his brows dipping. “And you’re going to see him alone in a deserted office building? Is there, at least, a guard on duty?”

“It’s safe,” she answered evasively. “Besides, this client is a kitten. And a kitten who wouldn’t harm a mouse for that matter.”

“So was Jack the Ripper,” Caleb said cynically. “Until they found out he wasn’t.” He pushed to his feet. “I’m going with you.”

“Hey,” Kent said, knocking on the table to get Caleb’s attention. “We need you in the game.”

“You mean you need my money,” Caleb corrected, shoving his chair back into place.

“Can’t have one without the other,” Kent pointed out, but Caleb wasn’t paying him any mind. He had his sights on Shay, and he closed the distance between them with a loose-legged swagger.

“Kent White,” Sharon scolded, “how about some concern for your sister?” Her gaze shifted to Caleb, her voice softening. “Thank you, Caleb, for looking out for Shay. I worry about her. It’s comforting to know you’re here for her while we’re away.”

Feeling the heaviness of Caleb’s keen inspection, Shay squeezed her eyes shut in anticipation of what would follow, silently willing her mother not to issue the oh-so-familiar “she needs a man” line. Not to Caleb, not with Caleb involved. But true to form, her mother added, “She needs a man in her life.”

“I don’t need a man in my life, Mom,” she said, her eyes snapping open to find all six-feet-plus of Caleb towering over her. He arched a brow, amusement in his eyes.

Her mother continued to mean well and make things worse. “I just want you to have a man to take care of you, Shay.”

Mortified despite having anticipated such a remark, Shay looked away from Caleb. “You take women back twenty years every time you make that statement, Mom.”

Several remarks from the males around the table followed, and Sharon banished them all with a wave of her hand. Except for Kent, of course, who waited for silence and said, “If you’d prefer a woman, sis, we are an open-minded family.”

“Enough,” Bob chided. “I don’t want anyone rushing my baby girl to the altar. She has two brothers. You and Caleb. She doesn’t need a husband until she is darn good and ready for one.”

Shay bit her bottom lip, tension rolling through her at the brotherly reference to Caleb. “On that note,” Shay said, “I should take off. I don’t want to be late.”

Kent turned off the attitude. “You need to learn to say ‘no,’ Shay.” He’d often told her she worked too hard and never lived life. It wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have right now. The whole “need a man” one had been enough. “Hurry and get back here.”

Shay pretended they were still jesting. “No,” she said. “See? I’m practicing on you. No poker for me.”

A conversation about how and when to get her parents to the airport the next day followed. Both Kent and Shay lived in central Austin, near their parents, but the airport was a good forty-minute drive south. Since Kent was traveling out of town on business as well, it made sense for him to drive their parents to the airport. And though her parents pointed out that Caleb lived forty-five minutes in the opposite direction of the airport, at the Hotzone facility, he insisted, he, like Shay, would be at the house before they left, to see them off.

Ready to depart, Shay glared at her father. “Don’t let Kent keep you up all night. You have a big day tomorrow.”

“I’ll go to bed,” he said. “I’m not gambling on no sleep and risk missing the alarm and a fancy vacation with your mother.”

“Then we better get to playing,” Kent said, pointing to the cards irritably and then at Caleb. “You hurry your butt back here lickety-split. We have some serious poker to play and not much time.”

“No can do,” Caleb said. “I’m all Shay’s until bedtime. And I have a sunrise jump in the morning.”

His words repeated in her mind.
All Shay’s.
Until bedtime! Shay gulped as discreetly as she could manage. Though the words were innocent enough to the rest of the group, they packed a solid punch to her.

This was hardly headed toward that talk-from-a-distance conversation she’d planned, and Shay’s mind raced for a way out. Turning to him, she said, “This really isn’t necessary, Caleb.”

His jaw set. “It’s necessary.”

Shay knew how uncompromising Caleb was when he made up his mind. He’d made up his mind. “Fine,” she said. “Let’s go.”

With no time to spare anyway, she heaved a sigh, murmured a goodbye and turned on her heels. She rushed to the door, Caleb close behind, so close he was at the door, pulling it open before she could. She didn’t look at him. She darted to the high wooden porch, humidity thick and restricting, her focus on the sky.

The half-full moon hung low in the horizon, the sky a swirl of blue, gray, orange and yellow. But it was all a haze in her midst. She was actually nervous. With Caleb. It was crazy, and the unsettling sensation sent her rushing down the stairs in flight.

Her car was just to the right of the front door. Caleb’s truck was to the left. She had to pause, had to tell him where they were going.

“I’ll follow you, so we don’t have to come back here and risk getting pulled into the poker game,” he said, sparing her the need to figure out what to say.

She dared a look at him. “You don’t—”

“I do,” he said, his jaw set the way it had been in the kitchen. Strong. Determined. Two words that often defined Caleb.

Shay tugged her keys from her purse. “Stubborn,” she added out loud. Another word that often defined Caleb. “You’ve always been stubborn.”

“Determined,” he corrected, a slight lift to his mouth.

Shay turned away, afraid he’d notice she was looking at his lips. His full, sexy lips.
Why
did she keep looking at his lips?
Because he kissed you, Shay, and you want him to kiss you again.

Shay paused at the side of her silver BMW and unlocked the door. The car had been a splurge the year before when her stockbroker fiancé had broken up with her. He’d said she wanted to love him but didn’t. After a few weeks of introspection, she’d known he was right. He’d been more buddy than lover. Comfortable. Safe. And not Caleb, though she barely allowed herself to think such a thing.

Nevertheless, the engagement had ended and Shay had bought herself a replacement for love and happiness—the car. Because she’d worked hard and she could survive—all by herself.

Deep in thought, Shay reached for the door handle when suddenly Caleb’s hand was there. She’d not heard him approach, or maybe he’d been by her side the whole time. Electricity shot up her arm, and Shay reacted, yanking her arm back.

If he noticed her rapid withdrawal, Caleb didn’t react. He opened the door and waved her forward. A gentleman. Nerves subsided ever so slightly as a memory of Caleb repeating his father’s words on many occasions skirted through her mind. “Soldiers are men of honor. They know good manners. Until you piss them off. Then they have none, so—”

“Don’t piss me off,” he finished for her with a grin. “That was my father. He didn’t say a lot, but when he did, he was a straight shooter every time.”

“Kind of like you,” she said appreciatively. “A nice change from Kent’s loud mouth. But I guess that’s why he does so well in sales. He’s always talking.”

They both smiled, and the charge in the air thickened into silence. Shay contemplated about ten things she could say to him, but as she raced through ways to turn them into sentences, nothing cohesive came to mind. Nothing overly coherent, for that matter. There was just her, Caleb and a kiss in the pantry.

“I know,” he said, as if one of the ten things had come out of her mouth when it had not. “We’ll
talk
. Let’s take care of your patient first.”

Silent understanding settled between them, and she nodded, but nerves fluttered in her chest again. Their game of tug-of-war had worked until now—one saying
yes
while the other said
no.
But Shay was really hungering for
yes.
If they were alone together, she feared she’d be weak, that she’d forget the potential fallout of an intimate connection between them. She’d most definitely kiss him again. And again. And, oh, yes, again.

Shay hurried into the car before she kissed him then.