The Bride's Choice. Sara Orwig

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СКАЧАТЬ gazed into her large blue eyes and wanted to put his hand behind her head and pull her the last few inches. He wanted to taste her full lips, to feel their softness, to invade her mouth, yet the logical side to him warned against get- ting involved. Keep the whole arrangement impersonal. It could get incredibly sticky if he didn’t. And he could end up permanently committed, a married man with a wife and three boys, when he had no such intention. Or he could end up as he had with Andrea—getting his heart torn apart.

      While part of his mind argued, the other part had one desire. He gazed again into fathomless blue eyes, full, rosy lips that were slightly parted, and knew that under any other circumstances he would lean the last few inches and taste her tempting mouth. Caution, common sense screamed.

      “I have to give this thought.” But in her heart, Juliana knew she’d been thinking about marrying Caleb ever since he’d asked her to dinner. How could she not think about it, considering all the good it would mean to the boys? Juliana moved impatiently to the sliding glass door, once again seeking the softer lights on the deck. She brushed past him, bumping against him. As he steadied her, an enticing scent coaxed him to forget what was sensible.

      “Sorry,” she said, her cheeks turning a delightful pink. He moved away as swiftly as if he had grasped a burning skillet.

      “Just think about the money, Juliana,” he said, follow- ing her out to the deck.

      Annoyed, she glanced at him. “I’m thinking about my nephews. At least you should make a good father figure for them. Would you give them some of your time?”

      He was silent for a while, as if he was weighing her ques- tion. Faint light shone on the angles and rugged planes of his face. “Yes, I’d do that,” he answered finally, and she felt he meant what he said.

      Silence descended once again, the darkness enveloping them, moonlight splashing across the yard while shadows danced in the faint breeze. Crickets were chirping their night song, but Juliana barely heard them. “If you give me your word, I expect you to keep it. Trust is important to me.”

      “I’ll remember that,” he answered quietly, and she stared at him, unable to see the expression in his eyes in the dark- ness. He hadn’t answered that he would keep his word or that she could trust him—merely that he would remember that’s what she expected. His answer disturbed her, and then she brushed it aside as she went back to considering his proposal. What did she have to lose? Surely she could resist falling in love with him. All that money—the boys would be completely cared for. She could afford to send them to col- lege. All she had to do was live one year under the same roof with Caleb Duncan.

      Marriage to Caleb Duncan. Her stomach fluttered, her pulse raced and she felt dazed at the prospect. She sat down at the patio table, determined to try to look at everything objectively.

      Cal sat across from her, waiting.

      “Cal,” Juliana said finally, aware that calling him by his given name sounded intensely personal, even though he probably had not given it a thought. “There’s something that’s worrying me. You said that if we marry, that after a year we can dissolve this whole thing. But suppose by that time, the boys think of you as a father?” she asked.

      Cal felt torn between relief and anxiety because it sounded as if she was sincerely considering accepting his proposal. For the first time, he thought about her nephews actually getting attached to him—something that hadn’t occurred to him.

      “Quin is in counseling now because of losing his par- ents,” she continued when Cal didn’t answer her. “I don’t want him to lose someone he loves again.”

      Cal rubbed his jaw while he tried to come up with an an- swer. “It’s difficult to imagine that they would really think of me as a father. I don’t see myself that way.”

      “It could happen.”

      “All I can do is promise to do my best to avoid hurting them.”

      Juliana felt torn between wanting to accept and wanting to say no, unable to say the words because they would be ir- revocable.

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