pile. He hadn’t meant to go on and on, but Caitlan had been so easy to talk to. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such an unreserved conversation with a woman, without the pretense of something more.
He glanced up and found her studying him intently. Growing increasingly uncomfortable under her scrutiny, he asked, “What’s the matter?”
Speculation simmered in her eyes. “I was just wondering ... do you think Randal would try to harm you?”
Something in her gaze made him decidedly restless, a perceptiveness that went as deep as he could see. He knew exactly what Caitlan was getting at, pinpointing Randal as a suspect for his accident, and quickly shook his head. “No. Randal’s hotheaded, but he’s pretty harmless. All talk and no action, I’ve learned. He’s just bitter over his father’s mistake, and the debts he’s responsible for, which is understandable.” But his cousin’s drinking habit was another matter, J.T. thought, especially since it was starting to affect his work.
The ache in his temples had worked its way up to where he’d been hit in the head. He needed rest, he decided, watching as Caitlan stood and walked to the floor-to-ceiling shelves filled with books. Clasping her hands behind her back, she casually examined the titles. Now that the crisis with Randal was over, and an explanation given for his cousin’s odd behavior, J.T. couldn’t help but consider the intimacy of Caitlan alone with him in his office, and the endless possibilities of such a confinement. Shifting restlessly in his chair, he tried to shake off the provocative thoughts invading his mind.
“I see you’re a fan of Stephen King and John Grisham,” she commented. Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at him, and in the next instant an incredible awareness, as vital and hot as flame, settled between them. Fast as lightning, the easy friendship they’d established altered to a sexually charged energy that arced the distance between them.
J.T. saw the awakening glint in her eyes, felt the sensuality of new discovery cloak the room. Her hair feathered softly around her face, and as he dropped his gaze to her mouth, lips moist and slightly parted, an achy emptiness settled deep inside him.
Abruptly, he stood, determined to send her on her way before he took full advantage of the soft invitation and curiosity in her gaze. “It’s been a long day and my head is killing me,” he said, which wasn’t a total lie. His head was killing him, the throb unmerciful. “If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to turn in.”
Caitlan started toward him, concern dissolving the desire of moments before. “Are you going to be okay? Maybe I should check the bump on your head.”
His thoughts took an inappropriate turn as she neared. Damn, the last thing he wanted from her was mothering. He wanted something hot and basic, her warm, soft feminine body to lose himself in. And something more. He longed for the temptation of tenderness and care in Caitlan’s violet eyes. But he’d be no better than a thief if he gave into his greed, because he’d give her absolutely nothing in return. At least not what a woman with her capacity to care truly deserved -- love and affection, laughter and joy. And promises.
She skirted the desk, and before she could touch him he stepped away so his chair separated them. He ignored her perplexed look. “I’m sure this is just a backlash of all the excitement of today. All I need is some sleep. Did Laura show you the guest room?”
Caitlan nodded. “Yes.”
It’s the room beside yours
. “And your sister loaned me some clothes. Your family is wonderful. Everyone has been so nice about me being here.”
“Everyone except Randal,” he stated.
She shrugged. “I’ll just stay out of his way and I’ll be fine.”
J.T. jammed his hands on his hips and held her gaze steadily. “Stay out of everyone’s way, Caitlan,” he ordered, a hard edge to his voice. “Like I told you
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