Trouble In Triplicate (16 page)

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It was one of those October days that seemed more like summer than fall, and when Juliet spied the swimming pool in Caine's backyard, she decided that she wanted to spend the afternoon in it.

They bought cheeseburgers—two for Caine, one for Juliet—fries, and shakes at the drive-through window of a restaurant, stopped by the Post house for Juliet to pick up her swimsuit, then had lunch on the screened-in porch overlooking the pool.

The water was heated, making the transition from dry to wet an easy one. Both Caine and Juliet were strong swimmers, and they swam a few laps for the sheer fun of it before challenging each other to races. Caine won at freestyle and breaststroke, but Juliet beat him badly at backstroke.

"Show-off," he grumbled as she hung, grinning, on to the side of the pool while waiting for him to join her. "How did such a little thing like you get such a strong stroke, anyway?"

"Race you again? Backstroke," she challenged.

"Forget it. My ego is already in shreds." He reached out and pulled her to him, lifting her up so that she had no choice but to wrap her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. "But I'll let you make it up to me."

"And how shall I do that?"

His fingers slipped beneath the straps of her modestly cut black and yellow maillot. "By taking off your suit and swimming nude?"

"Not a chance, Saxon."

"No?" He nibbled sensuously on her shoulder. "I think I have a damn good chance, Juliet." His hands closed over her bottom and began to knead with strong fingers.

The desire that spun through her was heightened by the provocative position in which he was holding her. The feel of his wet, hair-roughened skin against her added another sensual dimension. Juliet exhaled on a moan as his lips and tongue teased the sensitive curve of her neck. She wanted him.

It was awesome, this power he held over her. He could make her want him with a look, a touch, a few huskily spoken words. The awareness of her vulnerability to this man unnerved her. She didn't want to be controlled by anyone. She was her own person with a mind and will of her own. A separate person.

"Take it off, sweet," Caine breathed against her ear. "Take off your swimsuit for me. I want you, Juliet."

"Now?" She gulped. "Right here, in the water?"

He laughed deeply, sexily. "Yes, my little innocent. Right here in the water."

It would be so easy to do as he asked. The newly awakened, passionate woman within her was hungry for him—and curious too! But the need to assert her independence was stronger.

"You'll have to put me down first," she whispered. "So I can pull it off." Had Caine been looking into her eyes, he would have seen the unholy gleam that suddenly lit them. But his own eyes were riveted to the sight of her erect nipples, straining against the slick material of her swimsuit.

The moment Caine set her on her feet, Juliet used the heel of her hand to blind him with a splash of water, then took off in a fast and frantic backstroke. In the few seconds it took for him to gather his scattered wits, she was halfway across the pool. But when he did come after her, it was in an amazingly swift freestyle stroke that enabled him to reach the side of the pool in time to snatch her ankle as she was trying to climb out of the water.

"I beat you again. I won!" Juliet was laughing triumphantly as she tried to kick out of Caine's grasp. Her momentary internal civil war was over. She'd won that too.

But Caine held on fast, his fingers locked around her slender ankle like a manacle. "I'm not laughing, Juliet. I don't like what you did."

She cast one glance at his stormy eyes and her laughter abruptly ceased. "You're angry because I beat you across the pool?" she asked, deliberately obtuse.

"That has nothing to do with it ... as you well know." k

She didn't care for his tone of voice. "Caine, let go of my ankle."

"No."

She gave a forceful but useless kick. He continued to hang onto her ankle. Her own temper began to flare. "Are you angry because I didn't strip and—and have sex with you the moment you demanded?"

His smile was hard. "Maybe."

"I suppose that Sherry Carson and all your other playmates would have whipped off their suits and jumped on top of you."

"Probably. They weren't the least bit prudish. Or childish either."

Juliet felt a rush of pure fury surge through her veins. "Like I am?"

He shrugged, let go of her ankle, and hoisted himself out of the pool. "You said it, I didn't." He walked toward the house, pausing to call over his shoulder, "Enjoy your swim, Juliet. You have the pool all to yourself."

"Good!" she flung after him, and spent the next twenty minutes swimming laps at near Olympic speed. When she finally climbed out of the pool and collapsed on a nearby chaise longue her heart was hammering and her breathing was labored from the strenuous exercise. She lay there for a while, until her pulse rate subsided and she was sure that she wasn't about to have a cardiac arrest.

"I brought you a glass of wine." Caine stood above her, a glass of white wine in his hand. He was dressed in cutoff jeans and an old Steelers T-shirt.

"We childish prudes don't drink wine," she said. "Bring me chocolate milk."

He sat down on the chaise alongside her outstretched legs. "I didn't call you a childish prude, Juliet."

"The inference was certainly there, Saxon."

"I was . . . irritated."

"To say the least."

"Okay, I was made as hell at you. I wanted you and you splashed water in my face and took off, laughing. I realize that you're inexperienced, Juliet, but take it from me, such tactics are never appreciated."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said stiffly, fighting a sudden urge to burst into tears. "Anything else?"

"One more thing. Stop dragging other women into our relationship. No more cracks about my past playmates, as you so bitchily put it. What's past is past, Juliet. There is no one now but you and me." He ran his hand lightly along the length of her leg, and his tone lightened. "I was watching you swim. That was quite a workout you put yourself through. Ever thought of swimming the English Channel?"

He handed her the glass, and this time she took it and sipped the wine. Her hand trembled. "You're not angry anymore?"

He shook his head. "Are you?"

She drank some more of the wine. It was pleasantly cool to the taste, yet left a trail of warmth within her. "No, I'm not angry."

He smiled. "It looks like we've just survived our first lovers' quarrel."

"Is that what it was?" She felt confused. "I didn't want to fight, Caine. I—wanted—" She broke off. What had she wanted? She'd wanted to make love, yet hadn't wanted to surrender herself to the sexual power he held over her. But she'd given him that power willingly. She loved him!

Caine saw the confusion in her eyes and his voice softened. "It was just a lovers' quarrel, Juliet. Nothing more, nothing less. Two strong personalities are bound to strike sparks occasionally." He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "Are we friends again?"

She nodded. Caine turned her hand over and pressed his lips against her palm. She felt the effects of his touch deep in the very core of her.

"And lovers?" He took the glass from her and set it on the ground, then drew her into his arms.

"Oh, yes, Caine!" This time she made no attempt to fight the passion flowing through her. Deep within her there was a knot of desire twisted so tight that it hurt.

He stood up and scooped her up in his arms. She clung to him. "Where are we going?"

"To bed." He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead.

"No. I—I want to go back into the pool." She looked up at him and blushed. "In the water."

"You don't have to, honey. You have nothing to prove. You're not prudish or childish simply because you prefer to make love in the bedroom."

She cast him a mischievous glance. "How do I know what I prefer? I need to do some experimenting before I can accurately state a preference, Saxon."

"Hmm, that's true. And you want to begin your research in the pool?"

"In the pool," she affirmed. "Caine?" Her hand lovingly smoothed over his cheek. "I'm sorry about what happened earlier."

"So am I, honey, but there's one positive aspect about fighting that you're about to learn." He smiled down at her, and there was a wealth of warmth and humor in his eyes. "Making up."