Taboo (10 page)

"Okay, Audrey," he said, "now here's the tricky part. We don't want to hurt the fish, or scare him too much, since we want to play this game again."

"Again and again, Uncle Grant! And I know how to let him go nice. See? Just like this." The sound of a switch clicking brought a gurgle of laughter from the small five-year-old girl.

"Very good, Audrey."

"I did it right!"

"You did it perfect. Look at him swim away now. After they get used to this and know you'll let them out of the net, maybe the fish will decide they like the game too."

"I want to do it again, Uncle Grant."

"Okay, and this time you can try it all by yourself."

Cammie watched as Grant released Audrey's small hands to work the simple controls of the two-foot-long rod and reel—minus the hook. A pulley worked by a flip switch either expanded or contracted the opening of the net, which "caught" the goldfish without the need for bait.

"I did it! I did it!" Audrey squealed in delight.

"You most certainly did, young lady. I think you must be the best fisherman I ever met under four feet tall."

"Wow, and that's a lot."

Grant's deep chuckle brought a smile to Cammie's lips. Trish was right. He'd always been wonderful with Audrey, trying to fill her father's shoes the best he could. He had a natural knack with kids. Not that he didn't lose his patience sometimes, but he genuinely liked them, and they always seemed to gravitate in his direction.

She had known that, and yet she had never quite seen him in this light. Today he seemed more paternal, the kind of man any child would be blessed to have as a father. She could just envision him giving a toddler a piggyback ride, wrestling with a couple of kids on the floor, coaching Little League, or even changing a diap—

What in the world was she thinking about? She knew she should get the hell out of there before she asked him to be a sperm donor—minus the doctor's assistance.

"Going somewhere, Cammie?"

Her hand froze as she reached for the knob, his voice seeming to drift temptingly down to her heart. She felt as though something languorous and dizzy and sweet had just replaced the blood in her veins.

"I was afraid they would miss me at the party," she said weakly.

"Not nearly as much as I'd miss you being here."

She turned, and that was her fatal mistake. Their eyes met and held, and as if he had an invisible lure of his own, he reeled her in closer... closer.

Chapter 6

Grant had been hoping she would come to him. He was so starved for her, a touch of her hand on his arm would be sheer delight. He clamped down the impulse to rush to her, crush her to him, and reassure himself that last week's miracle was actually real.

With infinitely more patience than he was feeling, he lifted Audrey as he stood, then carefully set the girl back down on the stool. She was so absorbed in her new toy, she simply grinned and flipped the latch to release her newest catch.

"Hi, Aunt Cammie," she said while skimming the line through the water. "Watch me get the guppy this time."

"I'm watching," Cammie assured her in a breathy voice that wasn't lost on Grant. "He's a big one, Audrey. A real trophy winner."

"Maybe we should have him mounted," Grant suggested, forcing himself to keep it light when all he wanted to do was back her into the wall and take the kiss that was way past due. The one he'd been kicking himself all week for not taking, in spite of her maddening refusal.

They stood close, Audrey suddenly forgotten. Grant couldn't look away from her face any more than he could stanch the immediate surge of desire, culminating in a familiar pain around his heart and radiating down to his groin. Her pupils dilated. He could feel the hum of mutual need and remembrance, so strong and electric it was a wonder it didn't roll off them, connect with the water, and shock them both.

"This has been about the longest week of my life," he murmured, low and intimate. "I've missed you like hell, Cammie."

"I've... it's been a long week for me too, Grant."

He wanted more, but it brought him face-to-face with the battle he knew lay ahead. His strategy was plotted, and he wasn't wasting a minute assaulting her defenses.

"Long enough to think about what happened... and what didn't?"

"Long enough to realize—" she glanced away, then back, as though she was too hungry for the sight of him to deny herself that much. "To realize we—I—should have behaved more responsibly."

"Do you regret it?"

"No. But that doesn't make it right."

"Not being true to yourself isn't right. Hiding from your feelings isn't right. They catch up to you sooner or later, Cammie. Avoiding the inevitable is a fool's game."

"Just as fooling around is a very
dangerous
game."

"Who's fooling around? This is serious business and you know it as well as I do."

Because he couldn't stand the abstinence another second, because he couldn't forget how her hair had wrapped around his hands like silken chains, binding him irrevocably to the only woman he could ever love, and just because he wanted to, he stroked his hand over her flushed cheek and into her thick hair.

Her response was immediate—the heady catch of her breath, the smoky turbulence in her gaze, which obliterated the caution he would stop at nothing to destroy.

"Uncle Grant, why are you playing with Aunt Cammie's hair?"

Damn, he thought. Cammie pulled back instantly. He gripped the nape of her neck, refusing the distance and holding her prisoner.

"I'm fixing it for the party, Audrey. Isn't it pretty?"

"Sure is. I want hair just like Aunt Cammie's. Will you fix mine too, Uncle Grant?"

"Okay, under one condition. You skedaddle so I can tell Aunt Cammie a secret."

"Ohh," Audrey moaned. "Do I have to? I wanna fish some more."

"You can. But I'll bet Uncle Brian could give you a few pointers on catching that algae eater we couldn't get off the side. Why don't you go show him your new rod and reel and find out what we should do? When you come back, we'll give it another try."

"Well..."

"I'll bet you a dollar you can't do it."

"A whole dollar?" Audrey promptly reeled in her line and hopped off the stool. "Oh boy! I'd be rich!"

The second she was out the door, Cammie whirled on him. "You bribed her, Grant."

"Damn right. And if the dollar hadn't worked I would have gone for a candy store. Audrey should have held out."

"She knew something wasn't right," Cammie said urgently. "Even as young as she is, she noticed. What does that tell you about how long it would be before other people started to catch on?"

"Let them." In one swift, fluid motion he reversed their places so she was right where he wanted her, with her back to the wall, a bookcase and the aquarium on either side. "If we're lucky we've got ten minutes alone. That's not much time, Cammie. Let's make the most of it."

"What are you thinking, Grant? The entire family's on the other side of the wall. Let me go."

"Not on your life. I've waited all week to get this close. Hell, I've waited forever. You can scream if you want to, but considering you want to be so secretive, I don't advise it."

"Don't you have any principles? Don't you even care?"

"I've got principles. Not that I need them, since you seem to have enough for us both. And yes, I
do
care. I care too much to ever let you get away." He leaned into her, forcing her to endure what he knew was an excitement she didn't want. "Quit squirming. I'm still so hard from last week I'm hurting, so do us both a favor and be still before I do something rash. All I want right now is to talk."

She went suddenly still. "Then move away. We can talk better if we're not in each others' faces."

"Why? So you can think some more while you keep me at a distance? No way." He cupped her face in both hands when she tried to give him her cheek. "How can you talk about the problem when you're afraid to confront exactly what it is?"

"Okay, Grant," she said, her voice shaking. "We
do
have a problem. A very big one."

"Yes," he agreed with an ironic chuckle, "Indeed it is a
big
problem. But it goes a lot further than that. We can work better as a team than we can playing hide-and-seek. Let's quit hiding from reality, Cammie, and seek some solutions to make it work."

"I've thought, Grant, believe me. I don't see how it can work. Not without doing a great deal of damage that could possibly never be repaired. It's very selfish of us to let something as superficial as passion make decisions that can never be taken back."

His anger was swift and deep. Grant struggled to keep his voice even, struggled to keep his hands off her arms so he could shake some sense into her.

"Is that what all your thinking this week netted you? The realization that we were caught up in some temporary kind of hormonal rush?"

"I..." She paled. "I told myself that, yes. We've known each other so long, Grant. It's—it's insane."

"Insane? I've got news for you, lady. This is as real as it gets. Feeling you move against me was
real,
making you so hot you were melting into my hand was
real.
Hearing you moan my name while I found out you were so tight you could be—"

She suddenly thrust away from him, her face ashen. Grant pushed her back against the wall, blocking her escape.

"Stop it, Grant. I don't want to hear anymore—"

"Too bad, because you're hearing me out." He anchored her face between his hands, forging mercilessly on. "You're right, all that was passion. It was the most incredible physical desire I've ever felt in my life, though God knows it was just enough to whet my appetite. But to hear you say it was no more than that makes me sick. All my life I've been waiting—"

The door suddenly opened, the roar of voices spilling over the heat of his outrage.

"Grant? What are you and Cammie up to?"

"Hi, Mom," he said, his frustration barely contained. "I was just—"

"Helping me get an eyelash out of my eye." Cammie bolted with spring-action reflexes, rushing past him and refusing to meet his gaze. "Thanks, Grant. Much better. Mom, can I give you a hand in the kitchen? I know you've been working nonstop all morning."

"And loving every minute of it. And no, you may not help me on
your
day. Besides, I've already got too much help in the kitchen. Wash up, Grant, it's time to eat. I just came to call you both to dinner."

"Thanks, Mom," he muttered as the door shut behind them. "Thanks a whole hell of a lot."

* * *

Cammie wondered if the agony that was passing itself off as dinner was ever going to end. Grant's constant stare was sandwiched between Dorothy's motherly concern about where her appetite was and admonitions that she needed to put on some weight. The only relief she found was in the sympathetic squeeze Trish gave her hand under the table before she commanded everyone's attention with a vivid recounting of a scandal at school.

One grueling ordeal rolled into another. As soon as dessert was served, everyone gathered around to sing "Happy Adoption Day to You," then took turns presenting her with a gift.

"Aunt Mabel, how sweet of you. White Shoulders talc and body lotion. I can't wait to take a bath and put some on."

Without looking up, she could feel Grant's eyes boring into her. She could hear his thoughts— the idea of smoothing it on her mingling with the anger she knew was still simmering close to the surface.

Grant was a man of purpose, and in spite of his independent thinking, his moral fiber was equally strong. She had offended him with her absurd suggestion that the power surging between them was only a physical whim. That was a crock and she knew it, but she'd been grasping at straws.

"I drew it just for you," Audrey said as Cammie opened the girl's gift. "Mommy bought me new colors. I liked the purple for your hair. Don't forget, Uncle Grant, you promised to fix mine like Aunt Cammie's."

Cammie snapped out of her trance, the crayon drawing barely registering as she hugged Audrey, not risking a glance at her parents for their reaction to the innocently spoken words.