Trouble In Triplicate (4 page)

"Then I think we should do everything in our power to straighten things out between them," she said thoughtfully.

He smiled. It was the first genuine smile that Juliet had seen from him, and it had a devastating effect upon her senses. Her stomach lurched and her pulse raced. She seemed to glow inside. It was impossible not to smile back at him.

"That's what I was hoping you'd say," he said huskily. She was smiling at him, a warm, sweet smile, and he felt his breath catch in his chest. His gaze was riveted to her face and he couldn't seem to look away. She was so beautiful—that exquisite bone structure, that flawless complexion, those intriguing eyes. Warning signals went off in his head. He'd never reacted so intensely to a woman's smile!

"I'll talk to Sophia," he said, struggling to sound cool and nonchalant. "I'll let you know what she says."

Juliet nodded. "You know," she said thoughtfully, "even if Sophia did cause the breakup, it's not going to be all that easy to get Grant and Randi back together again."

"I know. They've been apart a whole month, they've gone through the trauma of a canceled wedding—and there's the serious matter of

Miranda's total lack of trust in Grant. It's not going to be easy, Juliet, but I think we've got to try."

"If only to avoid listening to 'Send in the Clowns' forty-three more times, hmm?"

He laughed. "Shall we shake on our tentative alliance?"

He held out his hand. Juliet hesitated a moment, then placed her small hand in his big one. With one fluid movement, he pulled her toward him. Still holding her hand, he cupped her chin with his other hand and took her mouth with his.

Juliet was too stunned to protest. She hadn't expected Caine to make that kind of a move. Nor had she expected his hard, sensual mouth to feel so soft and gentle upon hers. For a split second she stood stock still while Caine's lips moved lightly, questioningly over her own. And then, as if of their own volition, her eyelids fluttered shut and her lips parted.

His tongue slipped into her mouth to probe the moist warmth within, and rubbed against her own tongue with a seductive intimacy that made her limbs go weak. A hot swell of excitement rolled through her, and she trembled with awakening urgency.

She was vaguely aware that Caine had dropped his hands to fold her deeply within his embrace. Her body surged against his and a small, soft moan escaped from her throat. Her breasts swelled and her nipples tightened as they pressed against the muscular wall of his chest. His warm hands smoothed over her back, massaging and stroking, sliding around to her sides to tease along her ribs, stopping tantalizingly, maddeningly, at the undersides of her aching breasts.

The kiss deepened, insistent and intimate, and pure, raw pleasure filled her. Her senses were full of Caine, of the taste and feel and scent of him.

Driven by a compulsive need to be even closer, Juliet's arms wound around his neck, and she molded herself to his hard frame.

Her mind was clouded. There was no time to think or reason. She was lost in the cloudy, shadowed world of sensation. When his lips moved to her neck she tilted her head to give him greater access. When his big hands cupped her bottom and lifted her slightly she settled herself snugly into the cradle of his thighs.

"Juliet." He groaned her name. His lips were buried in the silken, scented hollow of her throat. His whole body was taut with an aching urgency that had swept over him, unexpectedly and unconditionally, the moment he'd felt her soft, sweet mouth open under his.

The force of his own desire left him reeling. When was the last time a woman's kiss had so thoroughly shattered his control? Caine Saxon had always been the master of his passions. As an athlete, he had trained his body to obey his mind, and his iron self-control extended to any situation in the physical realm.

But this time the driving need that surged through him was beyond his mind's control. He held her tightly, possessively, as he trailed a path of stinging little kisses along the slender curve of her neck. Her sweetly feminine scent intoxicated him. The feel of her rounded softness pressed hotly against him totally clouded his rational thinking processes.

Juliet felt the urgency within him, felt his hands become more demanding, his caresses more intimate. His breathing was rapid and shallow, as was her own, and his heart was thundering beneath her fingertips. She sensed his control was tentative at best, and a heady power warmed her. He wanted her. He was aching for her, throbbing for her. She could feel the full force of his arousal.

"Juliet, I want you." His voice was hoarse and he clutched her fiercely. "I've never wanted any woman as much as I want you this moment."

His own admission floored him. It was true, but he'd had no intention of telling her\ The words had simply slipped out, another symptom of his shocking loss of self-control. Caine Saxon was not given to passionate declarations. The fact that he'd made this one alarmed him.

Juliet snuggled closer to him, filled with a sudden surge of tenderness for him. She'd never before inspired such unabashed masculine need. The men she'd known were so calm and controlled. None had ever been swept away with passion, nor had they inspired a similar abandon in her. But Caine . . .

"This is crazy!" he exclaimed. His hands closed around her shoulders and he drew back slightly to look at her. It was a major tactical error, he admitted to himself with a silent groan. She looked incredibly, sensually appealing. Her lips were softly swollen from his kisses, her dark hair was slightly tousled,and her eyes were a deep violet shade. "Juliet, I—I'd—we—" He cleared his throat.

She was looking at him in a way that blotted out his thoughts. "I think I'd better leave now," he finally managed to say. He began to back slowly away from her. Her steady gaze was mesmerizing him. He had to get away before he was totally consumed by her . . . power?

He was afraid of her! Juliet thought. The dawning realization filled her with incredulity—and amusement. But the look on his face, the way he was moving away from her, as if willing her not to drag him back, was unmistakable. Caine Saxon was a full foot taller than she and outweighed her by well over a hundred pounds, but he was afraid of her!

"Caine," she called sweetly, experimenting with her newly discovered power. She held out her hand to him and watched in fascination as he visibly struggled to resist taking it. He wanted to come back to her. He was waging an internal civil war to stay away from her. The knowledge thrilled her. She felt as irresistible as Delilah, as influential as Eve. He made her feel unique, and as one of three identical sisters, she'd never felt unique in her entire life! She was always part of a matched set.

"I'll talk to Sophia and . . . uh, be in touch," Caine said. He turned and headed for the door. Damn, what was the matter with him? he wondered. She was the virgin, but he was the one running away in a state of nervous anxiety! Why, he'd faced two-hundred-eighty-pound defensive linemen in his football career and had never felt this urge, this need to run.

It was a protective instinct, he consoled himself as he stepped onto the wide front porch. Look what her sister had done to his brother! Grant Saxon had been a cheerful bon vivant who'd been reduced to listening to endless refrains of "Send in the Clowns" after he'd tangled with Miranda Post. And look at the way Bobby Lee Taggert always trailed after Olivia Post. Like a faithful puppy dog!

Caine couldn't fathom himself in either role. He did not carry torches and he was not a tagalong. Those Post triplets were dangerous! A must to avoid. He would do what he could for Grant, but he intended to steer clear of Juliet Post.

"Scared?" A voice asked softly, tauntingly, as he stepped off the porch.

He whirled around to find Juliet standing in the open doorway, watching him.

He managed a choked sound of protest. That the little demon should have guessed what he was feeling! Never had he felt so mortified, so at a loss as a man.

"You needn't be," she went on. "I have no interest in aging playboy athletes, remember?"

"And I have none in violet-eyed virgins who are cloned three times over!"

"Good!" She grinned at him. "Then let's reinstate our truce. After all, neither of us is susceptible to the other's . . . uh, charms."

"How true!" Caine unlocked his car and climbed in. As he pulled away from the curb, he glanced in his rearview mirror. Juliet was still standing on the porch, and he had the uncomfortable feeling that she was laughing at him.

"Julie, it's for you," Olivia called, tucking the telephone receiver in the crook of her neck while she continued to deftly arrange pink and white buttercream roses on the iced chocolate fudge cake.

There was no reason for her heart to begin thumping so violently, Juliet admonished herself as she retrieved the receiver from Olivia. The call could be from anyone. From a potential customer wanting to hire the Post Sisters' Catering Service, from any number of friends, or . . . from Caine Saxon. Her pulses careened wildly.

"Hello?" she said into the phone.

"Is this really Juliet?" It was Caine Saxon, and he sounded suspicious. "How do I know it's not Olivia or Miranda pretending to be Juliet? Hell, you all sound exactly alike. Even your voices are cloned!"

"You're paranoid, Saxon. Why would Liwy or Randi pretend to be me? They don't want to talk to you."

At the mention of the name Saxon Olivia mangled a buttercream rose and stared at Juliet with wide blue eyes. Juliet stretched the phone cord as far as she could to slip around the corner and out of sight.

"Hmm, I guess you must be Juliet at that." Caine gave a slight laugh. "The nasty, sharp-tongued one." His voice lowered. "I talked to Sophia today and I'm sorry to say my suspicions were correct. She was the one who left the message on your answering machine and she arranged for her friend to call your sister. She even had Darla Ditmayer ready to say she was in Richmond with Grant, in case Miranda called to inquire."

Juliet gasped. "How could she?" The calculated cruelty of the other woman's acts appalled her. "Why would she do such a thing? And to her own brother!"

"I don't think she expected your sister to break the engagement," Caine said slowly. "But I'm not making any excuses for Sophia and I told her so. I also told our mother what happened and she's as furious and disgusted as I am. We both had a long talk with Sophia." His voice hardened. "My sister is ready to make a full confession—and apology—to both Grant and Miranda."

Juliet guessed that Sophia Saxon had been given little choice in the matter. It must have been a thoroughly unpleasant scene with Caine Saxon letting his sister know the full vent of his fury and disgust. Not that she felt a bit sorry for the scheming Sophia. What misery she had caused both the Posts and the Saxons!

"Mom would like Miranda to come over to her house at seven tonight if it's convenient. Grant will be there too. Do you have a catering job tonight, Juliet? Do you think your sister will come?"

Juliet swallowed. She knew how her sister detested confrontations and scenes, and this one promised to be a dandy. Poor Randi. On the other hand, she deserved an apology from that miserable Sophia Saxon. And Grant would be there. . . .

"We're not working tonight," she said. "And maybe Randi will come—if Liwy and Bobby Lee and I come too."

"A Post never travels without her entourage, eh?"

"One can never be too careful when wandering into Saxon territory," she retorted.

"It seems you have good reason to distrust the Saxons," Caine said soberly. "At least one of them. I'm sorry my sister did this, Juliet. I'm ashamed and appalled and deeply sorry."

She hadn't expected an apology from Caine. It wasn't his fault, after all. She found herself warming to him in spite of herself. He was genuinely concerned about his brother's happiness, and she could certainly relate to that.

"You don't owe anyone an apology, Caine. If it weren't for you, we would never have learned the truth."

Her voice was soft, and he felt his body respond with a growing tautness. He was instantly on his guard. The image of her calling to him, her hand outstretched and beckoning, rushed vividly to mind. He'd wanted to take her hand, to pull her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless and trembling and clinging. And then . . .

He forced away thoughts of that tantalizing prospect with the same willpower he'd used to keep himself from returning to her arms. He refused to get involved with the sexually inexperienced identical triplet sister of his brother's ex-fiancee! There were enough strings in that one to ensure a hopeless tangle—and he wasn't about to get caught up in it!

"I did what I had to do for Grant,'" he said brusquely. "I wouldn't have exposed Sophia for anyone else but him."

"I understand." Empathy surged through her. It would be dreadful to have to admit that your own sister was scheming, jealous, and cruel. But Caine Saxon had faced it and dealt with it. "Thank you, Caine," Juliet said quietly.

Her voice seemed to burn him through the telephone wires. Caine felt the heat surge through his body and was thoroughly alarmed. How could the mere sound of her voice bring forth such a response from him? It was a phenomenon he didn't care to explore.

"Tonight at seven at my mother's house. Make sure Miranda is there," he said gruffly, and quickly hung up.