The Detective's Dilemma (23 page)

Her house smelled of cinnamon. Brennan met them at the door and actually wrinkled his aristocratic nose and stepped back when Walker nodded a greeting.

Julianna took off her hat and gloves and put them on the carved walnut-and-marble hall tree.

“Isabelle and Peter are out on a walk,” Brennan said. “I was about to go to the attic and organize the crates of items still left to sell, but I’ll stay here instead.”

She shook her head. “That won’t be necessary. After all, Mr. Walker no longer poses a threat.”

“Are you sure?”

Walker had to admire the guy’s desire to shield Julianna. The way he glared at a family guest, Brennan obviously had forgotten how to be a servant.

“It will be fine,” Walker answered. “I won’t try anything.”

Julianna’s face went pink. What could she be thinking?

After Brennan closed the door behind him, Walker asked, “You must tell me why you blushed just now.”

Her hands went to her cheeks, and she gave a little laugh. “You said ‘I won’t try anything,’ and I almost replied, ‘What a disappointment for me.’ One day with you, and I have lost my polite conversation.”

He grinned at her. “A disappointment, eh? And that makes me happier than you can imagine.” He moved toward her and cupped her chin with his palm. She licked her lips, and his body jerked.

Pale as cream with the pink upper lip, she reminded him of all the sweetest fruit. His mouth watered.

Julianna rested her fingers on Caleb’s wrist but didn’t shove him away. “This isn’t what I hoped for when I invited you over.”

“No, of course not.”

“But I don’t regret it. Not at all.” She pushed herself into his arms then. “Nothing more than kissing,” she murmured against his neck. “Brennan might appear or the others might come home any second.”

They stood in the middle of her sitting room and kissed until she was breathless and her mouth grew oversensitive to touch. She ached with need. This felt more urgent because now she knew. The time in Mrs. Calder’s apartment had taught her about the possibilities, the delight of passion.

Hunger for his skin made her slide her hand into the back of his trousers, just for a touch of that warmth.

The smell of him, his soft sigh as he tasted her jaw, his solid form against her, and those wicked hands. God, she remembered those hands on her. Her heart raced as if she had run or danced for hours. She longed for more dancing and kisses.

She sighed, trying to drive off the need for him, without success. “I thought after everything went back to normal, this desire would dissipate. My regular life would pull me back in.”

“Those kisses changed me too,” he said.

“Really? You don’t kiss women every day?”

“Certainly. Seven days a week, twice on Sunday. Different ones every time.”

“What a lot of time you must put into the effort of seeking partners,” she said with a laugh.

“No, you silly woman, I do not put my mouth on every lovely female I find.” He pressed his lips to her temple, her cheek, and her mouth. “I can’t remember ever kissing anyone as much or in so many ways. Small ones like this, and then those deeper ones.” He demonstrated, brushing her lips with his, then settling in for something demanding with his tongue. When he pulled back, his eyes were glazed with the same sort of longing she knew she showed him. “We have a special gift for it.”

“I opened Pandora’s box.” She trailed her fingers along his skin, rough despite the fact that he’d shaved recently. She was used to the feel of Peter’s unbelievably soft baby skin, but Caleb was hard, warm, and so large.

More kisses followed and soon she gasped, and he did too. They sank to their knees on the floor. Caleb’s body loomed, urgent and ready for her. She slid her hand down his trousers and he pushed against her, arching to her touch. She’d always supposed the main reason she’d enjoyed James’s contact had been the gentle way he’d taken her. But when greed filled her she delighted in the demanding groans and touches and the way Caleb seemed ready to tumble her ungracefully on the floor.

She stroked all of the skin she could reach and he hiked up her skirts and palmed her bottom with only the thin linen between his hands and her. Their scrabbling, awkward contact thrilled her.

“Please,” he whispered into her hair.

“Yes, oh, yes.”

“You’ll marry me?”

“What?” Befuddled, she reared up, onto her knees. “At a time like this you think of…” She blushed because that should have been her line of thinking.

He half lay on his back, resting on his elbows, and grinned up at her. “Especially at a time like this.”

She nodded glumly. “You are correct of course. I’m supposed to be a civilized woman, not an animal filled with lust and no thought of the future.”

He smiled up at her, his brown eyes lit and his hair untidy. “You are glorious,” he said. “A glorious thinking animal.”

She couldn’t help grinning. “You do know how to flatter a girl.”

The front door slammed. Her head jerked up. “Oh dear.”

He scrambled to his feet tucking in his shirt and fastening his trousers.

Julianna’s body thrummed with unfulfilled desire, little pings of need, even as she hurriedly felt her hair and straightened her gown.

“You look fine,” he whispered.

She went out to the hall to greet Isabelle before she led Peter back to the sitting room.

When she brought Peter into the room, she instructed, “Mr. Walker is a visitor, so you might offer him a hand or bow to him.”

Peter only glared at Caleb and refused to shake hands or speak, though he might have ducked his head a bit. She knelt by her son.

“Could you greet our visitor?” she whispered, flustered that Peter showed his most grouchy nature.

Peter only pressed against her and whined.

She went to a chair and pulled her son onto her lap. For the next few minutes, he was so out of sorts, conversation became impossible. Peter cried when she wouldn’t let him grab the glass bird from its display on the table next to them. In short, he acted like a tired, cranky child.

Caleb watched, silent, with his head tilted to the side. Julianna imagined he could only thank his lucky stars he could walk away from this unpleasant creature. Her heart sank with disappointment, and she felt ready to stomp her own foot.

But then she caught sight of Peter’s confused, angry, miserable face and forgot about impressing Caleb. She gave her boy a hug, which he rejected by pushing at her.

“Dan’l, Dan’l.” His voice rose. “Dan’l!”

Caleb spoke over the din. “What does that mean?”

“He wants Brennan. Daniel is his first name.”

From the hall, Isabelle called, “I’ll fetch Mr. Brennan.”

A couple of minutes later, Brennan appeared in the doorway. Peter slid off Julianna’s lap, ran over to Brennan, and clutched his leg, whimpering.

But when Brennan reached down for him, Peter threw himself backward and careened to Julianna again.

“I expect he’s hungry,” Brennan said with a fond smile.

Of course, and Julianna should have known the signs immediately. If she’d been a good mother—one aware of objects and people in her surroundings other than Caleb—she’d have understood Peter’s behavior at once. She licked her still swollen lips.

“Would you mind bringing him some food?” she asked Brennan.

“Here?” Brennan did not approve of food served anywhere other than the dining room or kitchen.

She ignored his disapproval and nodded. “Yes, please. Just a piece of bread or some such.”

Brennan gave a small bow, as formal as any he might have shown when he worked for her parents, and vanished.

Peter gave a howl and ran out the door after him. Brennan called. “I’ve got him. I’ll just give him a snack downstairs.”

“That introduction went terribly,” she said after a minute’s silence.

Caleb didn’t contradict her. “He was quieter yesterday when I saw him.”

“He was asleep yesterday,” she said gloomily. “He’s a sweet-natured boy—I’m not just saying that because I’m his mother. But when he’s hungry, he turns sour.”

“I know the feeling.” Caleb added, “He seems attached to Brennan.”

“Yes, I suspect he always will be.” She rose from her chair and began to pace; walking helped her think, though her toes hurt a little from their long stroll the day before. She did not dare go close to Caleb, for he might distract her again.

“What’s the matter?” Caleb rose to his feet as well.

“This thing.” She could not imagine giving up the pleasure of those kisses, and what if Caleb grew tired of her need to put her son first?

“Thing?” he asked.

“Whatever you might call it—me, with you. It’s not fair to Peter or you.”

“Sure it is.” Caleb sounded unconcerned, even jolly.

“What can you mean?” She almost snarled the words.

“He’s a little kid. He’ll get used to me.”

She wasn’t sure if she was glad he was unconcerned or worried that he didn’t seem to care about Peter’s misery. And then there was Brennan. She’d told him often enough she had no plans to marry again.

“You’re not the first widow to move on with her life,” he said.

Caleb was right, of course. “Yes, but for some reason, that doesn’t seem to lessen my worries.” She sighed and wished she could lean against him, but she’d been independent for so many years. “I am not used to thinking of anyone’s needs other than Peter’s.”

“Especially not your own, I’ll bet.”

Before she could retort, he went on, “No, that sounded as if I mock you, and I don’t.”

“And I didn’t mean to sound so overwrought.”

He said, “Naw, you have a right. You’ve had a rough day or so.”

“You too.” She stopped her pacing and perched on a gold-and-rose damask-covered sofa.

He rubbed the side of his neck and she noticed she’d left a mark with her mouth there. Good Lord, she really had been out of control. “I had less to worry about. You worried about your boy all day yesterday, I know that. That kind of fretting takes it out of a person.”

“For a corrupt thug of a cop, you’re rather perceptive.”

He laughed and walked to the door. “I suppose I should go,” he said, and she thought she heard reluctance, a plea of
ask me to stay
—or perhaps that was her own hopeful thought.

She rose, went to him and rested a hand on his arm. They both looked down at her pale skin on the gray sleeve. The moment threatened to grow too strong, so she moved into the hall, pretending she hadn’t felt yet another stomach-clenching lurch of desire. “No, don’t leave. Let’s go to the kitchen and try again to introduce you to Peter.”

Brennan perched on a stool with Peter on his lap. Peter chattered about cows, one of his favorite topics at the moment. His face and chin were smeared with milk and crumbs, and the plate in front of him was already empty.

Brennan got to his feet, placed Peter on the stool, then stood behind him so the boy wouldn’t tumble off. Brennan smiled at Julianna, but then his gaze flicked between her and Caleb. His glare spoke volumes, and so did his cold tone as Brennan asked, “Can I help you?”

He acted like a jealous man. When she was young and in love with Brennan, Julianna would have given a thousand dollars to have him respond to her suitors like this. Now she only felt annoyed and decided to ignore his ill manners. Perhaps Peter’s grouchiness had proved contagious.

“We’re here to see Peter.” She waved at her son, who waggled his fingers back at her. “Are you feeling happier, darling?”

He nodded and patted the silver cup next to him. “Moo,” he announced. “They make milk and moo.”

“Cows?” Caleb asked.

Peter nodded solemnly. “Pigs oink. They smell awful.”

Brennan’s hands rested on Peter’s shoulders. “He likes animals,” he said as if Caleb had challenged him or Peter.

“I expect he does,” Caleb said.

Isabelle came into the room and stopped dead at the sight of Caleb.

“Isabelle, this is Mr. Walker.”

The nanny’s sunny smile vanished, and she smoothed her apron with pudgy fingers. “Good day, sir,” she said flatly.

His pleasant face and figure should have made the cheerful Isabelle even more prone to smile. Though she was over forty, she liked men, particularly good-looking ones. Instead, she eyed him with suspicion. Clearly, Isabelle and Brennan had discussed this particular man.

The nanny walked over to Peter’s stool. “Come along, Petey, let’s clean you up.” She gave Brennan a nudge on the shoulder to move him aside, grumbling, “He’s got crumbs and butter all down his front.”

“And milk,” Peter said proudly as he held his arms up to her. He looked at Julianna and ordered, “Mama come soon.”

“Yes, I’ll come see you, I promise.” She turned to Caleb and made a face. “Not such a fine opportunity for you to get to know him after all.”

“Probably for the best,” Brennan said. He stared at Caleb again.