Be My Baby (21 page)

It was late when Beau finally called it a night and went up to Juliet’s room. Sending the man standing guard between the two women’s rooms down to Roxanne’s door, he let himself in.

He half expected Juliet to be asleep, but although she was in bed, she sat up the moment he entered the room. He shed his tux jacket, kicked off his shoes, and made his way over to the bed, sliding his bow tie from beneath his collar. Juliet had scrambled to her knees by the time he reached it, and she reached out to undo his shirt studs. Between them, they had him stripped in seconds flat, and she immediately pressed herself against his chest, wrapping her slender arms around his neck. “Hold me, Beau. Please.”

He did, but it was soon clear she didn’t simply crave the comfort of his arms. She moved against him, pressed restless kisses to his throat and chest, and within moments he was wrestling her down onto the mattress, looking for the same sweet oblivion that she sought.

Foreplay was minimal, and soon he was deep inside her, and it was rough and hot and fast, and the tension that had kept his neck and shoulder muscles knotted all night was finally—finally!—be
ginning to abate when he heard Juliet’s voice, muffled against his throat, begin a soft little chant. Dragging his attention back from its hot, mindless free-fall through space, he tuned in to what she was saying.

“I love you, Beauregard,” she murmured into his skin. “I love you, love you, love you.”

And just like that, the tension was back.

B
eau leaned in the office door. “Afternoon, ladies.”

Juliet and Roxanne, working with their heads together at Juliet’s desk, looked up and returned his greeting. Her pulse rate picking up, Juliet gave him a swift and discreet once-over, wishing she had the ability to read minds. Last night he’d made love to her with a fierce intensity that had left her boneless and able to drift immediately into sleep. But this morning she’d sensed an uncharacteristic reserve, the origin of which she couldn’t begin to pin down. She’d wanted to ask him if anything was the matter, but it was an asinine question that he’d undoubtedly answer with a snort and a where-do-I-start? response. Her life was a Keystone Kops comedy these days—of course there was something the matter.

His professional mask seemed firmly in place this afternoon, too. But no—she had to put a lid on the paranoia. He simply had a lot on his mind.

“You about ready to go?” He stepped farther into the room. “I’ve exhausted the computer files in my search for the antique gun, so we’re going to Cop Central today to check out the records room.”

That startled a laugh out of her. “Cop Central?”

“Police headquarters. You comin’ along, Miz Roxanne?”

“No, I’ve got work here I have to get done.”

“Sure.” Hands in his pockets, he shrugged. “Just in case you’re nervous about being left here alone, though, I want you to know I’ve got a man posted outside your office. I don’t anticipate a problem, but I’m establishing a few precautionary measures now that I finally have some decent manpower to work with.”

“Thanks, Sergeant. You’re a pip.”

Juliet hesitated, then forced herself to say, “As long as you have somebody to stand guard, Beau, perhaps I ought to stay, as well.” It was actually the very last thing she wanted, and yet…“We’re up to our eyebrows in preparation for the Grand Opening, and there’s a hundred details that still need my attention.”

Beau’s gut instinct said to tell her flatly and unequivocally to forget it. Then he thought of the way his long-held fantasy seemed to be getting all screwed up, and that sinking feeling he’d gotten in the pit of his gut last night—as if a steel-barred door were clanging shut behind him—and he took a step back, rubbing his hands down his thighs. “Yeah, okay, whatever. As long as you don’t make a move outside your office without my man dog
gin’ your footsteps.” Hell, the freedom to get some uninterrupted police work done would be welcome—just what the doctor ordered, in fact. “Y’all come on out here with me for a minute, and I’ll introduce you to the guard.”

A few moments later the introductions were complete, and Roxanne disappeared back into the office. Juliet trailed Beau to the front door.

“Well, hey,” he said and edged toward the main entrance. “I guess I’ll, uh, see you la—”

“Would you do something for me?”

He was so surprised to hear Juliet Rose Astor Lowell interrupt anyone that he dropped his hand from the door handle and looked down at her.

“Sure. Shoot.”

“I’d like to invite your sisters to the Grand Opening—”

“Oh, hey, really, dawlin’, that’s not at all necessary.” Panic gnawed his vitals with sharp little rat teeth at the very thought.

“Please. It’s something I’d very much like to do, only it’s quite late to be sending out formal invitations. I apologize for not thinking of it sooner, but…will you invite them for me? Or give me their numbers so I can call them myself?”

“Yeah, sure, okay.” She looked up at him with her serious gray eyes, and his shoulders twitched. “I’ll pass the invitation along, okay? Listen, I gotta go.”

“I know.”

“Then move it, sugar. I’m not budging an inch until you’re in range of the guard dog.”

“He has a name, Beauregard.”

“I know he has a name. Benton, okay? Get over to where he has you firmly in his sights, angel face, so I can go do my job.”

She leaned forward to kiss him good-bye, but with some vague notion that it would be easier to put distance between them if he avoided it, he shifted out of range. “I’ll see you this evening.”

Her chin elevated slightly, and the dignity in her level gaze made him feel like a worm. Then, without a word, she turned and walked away. He watched until she strode like a queen past Benton and the office door closed behind her ramrod-straight back. Then he headed for the car.

She’d be just fine, he assured himself as he steered the GTO through midcity traffic, her and Roxanne both. He’d chosen Benton himself, and besides, he needed breathing room.

Still, he was edgy and out of sorts when he arrived at the records room on the second floor of the HQ building, and the hours spent searching through spool after spool of hard-to-read film failed to improve his mood. He nevertheless kept at it, doggedly threading new reels onto the microfiche and skimming the information that scrolled up the screen until his eyes burned.

And found nothing.

At a quarter to six, he pushed back from the machine and ground the heels of his hands into his eyes. Then he made a note of the most recent date checked, gathered up the latest stack of reels, and returned them to the clerk on duty.

On his way back to the Garden District he decided to stop at home. He’d told Luke he’d make
up with his sister, and he felt a sudden need to touch base with his real life.

The house was closed up and hotter than hell’s anteroom when he arrived. Josie Lee wasn’t home yet, so he grabbed the lone bottle of beer out of the fridge door, turned on the overhead fans, and put T-Bone Walker on the compact disc player. Then he sprawled on the couch with his feet propped on the coffee table as he flipped through his stack of mail.

When the whining guitar licks, tenor sax, and bump-and-grind drumbeat of “Blues Rock” drifted out of the speakers, he looked up from his bills. The instrumental always reminded him of music to take it off by, which made him think of strip joints, which led inevitably to thoughts of Juliet. He looked around the living room and wondered idly what she’d think of his place. It was hardly the palatial digs she was accustomed to.

His feet hit the floor with a thud as he sat up. Shit. Where had that come from? It was stupid, useless speculation—she was never going to see it. And it wasn’t as if he wanted her to, anyway. Plenty of other women would, and he imagined
they’d
like it just dandy. He tipped the beer bottle up to drain the last sip from it.

The screen door creaked as it opened and then slapped shut behind his sister and Luke. Beau winced at the wariness that appeared in her dark eyes the instant she spotted him.

In inimitable Josie Lee fashion, however, she recovered quickly. “Well, well. Would you look what the cat dragged in. How goes it, Beauregard—stop
ping by to check the lock on my chastity belt?”

“Jose,” Luke remonstrated, but Beau shook his head at his partner and climbed to his feet.

He watched his sister assume a combative stance and approached her cautiously. “Nope. You’re too close to the kitchen for that; a guy could get hurt.” Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he stepped up to her and tilted his head to one side. “The truth is, sugar, if I had my way you would die a virgin at the ripe old age of ninety-five. I can’t help it—it’s the way I feel. But Luke said I had to play nice or risk driving you away, so I’m here to apologize.”

The look she gave him was bemused and distrustful, and he nudged her arm with his elbow. “Come on, Jose, let’s kiss and make up, whataya say?”

Her black lashes went into a flurry of motion. “Let me see if I’ve got this straight. You’re apologizing.”

“Yep.”

“To me.”

He bristled. “You act as if I’ve never said I was wrong before.”

Her mouth dropped open. “You’re saying you were
wrong
?”

He was starting to get seriously insulted here. He opened his mouth to blast her, but then she laughed like a loon and threw herself at his chest. Staggering back, he pulled his hands from his pockets and hugged her. He gave the top of her head a noogie with his chin and murmured, “I overreacted, Jose—I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you were a jerk.”

“So Luke tells me.”

She pulled back to look into his face, her own suddenly serious. “I’ve loved him for as long as I can remember, Beau.”

“Have you? Well, you could do worse, I guess. He’s okay.”

“
Okay!
” She punched him. “He’s the
best
.”

“Yeah. He’s a good man.”

“Aw, shucks, all this effusive praise has me shufflin’ my feet in modesty,” Luke inserted dryly. “I’m such a swell guy, I think I deserve a beer. Excuse me while I go fetch one.”

“That might be kinda difficult, since I drank it,” Beau said.

“You drank my last beer?”

Beau narrowed his eyes. “Last time I looked, my name was on the mortgage. And since Jose is an iced tea freak, you’ll just have to excuse the hell outta me if I assumed it was one I’d bought before I got bumped up to the high life at the Garden Crown.”

“Speaking of which,” said Josie Lee, “how is
your
love life?”

I love you, Beauregard
. Beau shut out the voice and set his sister loose. “None of your business.”

“C’mon, Beau! You didn’t hesitate to critique my love life; turnabout’s fair play.”

“Yeah, well, I gotta head back to the Garden Crown now. Otherwise, I’d just love to spill my guts for your amusement. Tell you what, though.” He gathered up his bills and stuffed them in his hip pocket, then stopped to look at his sister. “Juliet
wants y’all to come to the hotel’s grand opening next week. You’re welcome to try your hand at pickin’ her brains.”
And good luck, little sister
. He’d trust in Juliet’s impeccable manners and level gaze to stop rude questions in their tracks any day.

And as he’d hoped, Josie Lee was sidetracked. “We’re invited to the opening? Ooh. Is it formal? I bet it’s formal.”

“Yeah, it’s a golden opportunity for y’all to wow ’em in the aisles, so pass the word along to Camilla and Anabel, huh?”

“I’ll go call them right now.” She stood on her toes to give him a peck and then dashed for the phone.

The wry quirk of Luke’s lips was admiring. “Nice work. How’d you do that?”

“A guy can’t live in a house full of women for as long as I have without learning a trick or two.” He pushed the screen door open. “Tell Jose ’bye for me. I’ve gotta go do something I should have taken care of a while ago. I’ll catch you later.”

The minute Juliet saw Beau’s face, she knew he was going to say something she didn’t want to hear. Her stomach sank, but in her heart she had known there was a problem from the moment he’d avoided her good-bye peck. Beau Dupree—who had probably never passed up an opportunity for some intimate physicality in his life—sidestepping a kiss? Oh, yes, she’d known.

“We’ve got to talk,” he said.

Juliet leaned out the door to peer up and down the hall. “Where’s Benton?” The man had insisted
on following her up to her room to stand guard when she and Roxanne had finally called it a day a short while ago.

“I sent him down to get dinner.”

“Oh.” She stepped back. “Come in.”

He followed her into the sitting room, but when she turned to face him he thrust his hands in his pockets and shifted restlessly.

“Has something happened?” Her instincts insisted this was personal, but she could hope she was mistaken. All she knew for certain was that his mood was beginning to affect her. Heart drumming, she asked, “Did you find the information you were searching for at headquarters?”

“No. No, this’s got nothing to do with the case. It’s just…you and I have never discussed what we expect out of this relationship, Juliet, and I…uh, realized today it’s something we need to talk about.”

“And you look like your dog’s just been run over because…?”

He regarded her with unfathomable eyes. “Look, I just think it’s important that you don’t get the wrong idea.”

For the first time since she’d set foot in Louisiana, she felt cold—cold to the bone. Resisting the urge to hug herself, she inquired coolly, “And what might that wrong idea be, Beauregard? That you care?”

“No, dammit! I do care. It’s just—”

“Will you quit saying that!”

“What?”

“‘Just.’ It’s ‘just’ that we never discussed where
we saw this relationship heading. You ‘just’ think it’s important I don’t get the wrong idea. You care, but it’s ‘just’…”

“Hey, excuse the hell outta me, lady. I didn’t have the benefit of your posh upbringing. Is that one of the things Grandmother taught you during your daily tea parties—never to repeat yourself?”

God, how soon he’d managed to use that against her. Well, she would not let him see her bleed—she wouldn’t. She tilted her chin up. “Tell you what, Beau. Why don’t you
just
spit out whatever it is you want to say?”

He shoveled a hand through his hair and then let it drop to his side. “Look…” He drew in a deep breath and looked around the room, lending his attention to everything but her. Then, suddenly, he exhaled and faced her squarely. “I inherited the care of my sisters when I was twenty-four years old, Juliet. I wanted to do right by them, so except for rare occasions, I pretty much gave up the idea of a love life. You can’t exactly bring lovers home to where your little sisters are living.”

“And it’s very commendable of you,” she said. “Although I’m not certain I comprehend how this is pertinent to our relationship.” But deep inside, she was afraid that perhaps she did.

“It’s pertinent because while I lacked a sex life, what I did have was a plan for the day I’d have my freedom again—and I gotta tell you honestly, it got me through many a night when I didn’t have a clue what the hell I was doing.”

“And that plan involves the little book you’re always collecting phone numbers in, I take it.”

“Yeah. I always planned to go ape-shit as soon as Josie Lee moved out, to date a different woman every night of the week to make up for lost time.”

The awful thing was, she could see the justice of his dream. He deserved to see it fulfilled. But that didn’t help the grinding hurt eating through her heart. “Why are you telling me this now? It seems to me you have a pretty good thing going for yourself here. Regular sex, no pressure. Or—oh, God.” She regarded him with sudden horror. “It’s grown distasteful?
Boring?
”