Intimate (11 page)

“This isn’t a
back door. I told you I was bored with the orchestra and would seriously
consider another possibility at this point.”

He could just
go back on tour doing solo concerts. He had an agent and a manager who would be
thrilled if he did.

But Marissa
didn’t want him to do that, and Caleb wasn’t sure about it himself. But James’s
proposal for a short run in a jazz band—no longer than a year—was intriguing.

James said, “I’m
serious about this, and I don’t want to work with anyone who isn’t equally
serious.”

“Your dad won’t
be happy about it.” Caleb knew that was a low blow, since James’s relationship
with his family was conflicted. At this point, however, he would take any
advantage he could to get the upper-hand.

“When is he
ever? I’ve set it up so I can make it work with my responsibilities. It’s just
a year. I’ve always wanted to do it.”

Caleb noticed
something new in the other man’s eyes, and it made him ask what he otherwise
wouldn’t have asked. “Whatever happened to your dream-girl? The one you were
talking about last time I saw you.”

Something
chilled in James’s eyes. “She was no longer interested.”

There was more
to this story. Caleb could see it clearly. But neither of them was comfortable
sustaining the personal conversation, so he let it drop.

“And, speaking
of,” James continued, in a different voice, “I assume you’d tell me if there
were something going on between you and Marissa, so I would know to back off.”

Not inclined to
miss an opportunity when it was offered, Caleb said carefully, “Marissa and I
have always been friends, but I might be interested in more.”

James smiled,
as if he were pleased with himself. He was probably feeling victorious at
getting Caleb to admit to such a thing. “Is that right?”

Caleb nodded,
hoping that his honesty had cleared things up between them. Wondering if it
could be that easy.

Nothing was
ever that easy.

 “I figured
that much out on my own. Had there been something romantic going on between you
already, I wouldn’t have interfered. But as there’s nothing but friendship at
this point, I consider her fair game.”

Caleb clenched
his fists. Breathed deeply and maintained his composure.

“I’m sure you
won’t mind a little competition.”

Caleb minded. A
lot. He could feel his fingernails dig painfully into his palms. He couldn’t
possibly admit to such feelings, however, so he said as coolly as possible,
“She’s way too young for you, and you’re hardly what I would consider
competition.”

James laughed
in an infuriatingly casual way. “We’ll see.”

With that, he walked
out to the waiting car.

He was trying
to make Caleb angry. He was doing so on purpose. He had found an unexpected
weak spot in his defenses, and he was exploiting it—for fun, or power, or
purely out of boredom.

Caleb would
have done the same thing.

It was of some
comfort that James probably wasn’t serious about Marissa. This was all just a
challenge—a game to him. But what would happen if Marissa took him seriously?
If she became serious about
him
?

If James dared
to break her heart, just when she was at last considering…

Caleb took a
deep breath.

He wasn’t a
fool. Wasn’t a teenager. Wasn’t some hothead who let emotions control his
actions.

He would have
dinner with Marissa and James. He would be cool and polite. He would sustain an
engaging, intelligent conversation. James would be going back to New
York—hopefully tomorrow.

Caleb could
make it through one dinner.

He hadn’t yet
fallen so low that he couldn’t keep his cool for a couple of hours.

He would not
act jealous. He would not be rude or uncivilized. He would not let anyone see
his ridiculously riotous emotions.

And he would
not—absolutely not—beat Baron James into a bloody, mangled pulp.

No matter what
the provocation.

Marissa held Baron’s hand as he
led her to the old-fashioned dance floor at the new Italian restaurant and
actually felt kind of weird about it.

She wasn’t sure
why. It was basically an innocent touch—he simply hadn’t let go of her hand
since he’d helped her to her feet. They were going to be dancing in a few
seconds anyway, so she wasn’t sure what the big deal was.

He was a
handsome, charismatic man, and his hand was warm and strong as it grasped hers.
But it made her feel strange—almost ill—and she had to fight the instinct to
pull her hand away.

She didn’t. She
was a grown woman, who shouldn’t act like she’d get cooties from holding hands
with an attractive man.

But she
couldn’t help but compare her present discomfort with how natural it had felt
to hold hands with Caleb after he’d helped her out of the car earlier.

Not that they’d
actually been holding hands—not like that, anyway. But, still, she hadn’t had
the least desire to pull her hand out of Caleb’s grip.

It was funny—how
familiarity could transform experiences that might otherwise be the same.

Baron swung her
into position, and they fell into step together smoothly, easily.

He danced well,
and he smiled down at her charmingly.

“Why are you
being such a jerk to Caleb?” she asked, as she matched her motion with hers.

“A jerk? Is
that your impression of me? You mean you haven’t fallen under the spell of my
winning personality?”

She chuckled,
enjoying his irony and dry humor. “I don’t really fall under spells very often.
I asked you a question, and I’d like an answer, please. If Caleb is your
friend, why are you making him suffer?”

“And how
exactly am I making him suffer?”

“You’re
flirting with me, even though you know it makes Caleb mad.”

He gave her a
slanting look. “The obvious explanation would be that you’re too irresistible
not to flirt with.” To punctuate the husky enticement of his words, he started
gently caressing her back, instead of keeping his hand still in its proper
location.

The touch felt
nice but had absolutely no effect on Marissa’s insides. It was fake—just
superficial. It didn’t feel at all like sex.

“That would be
the obvious explanation, but it’s not the real one. You’ve been laughing at Caleb
all night, and it’s not very nice. The poor thing is about to explode. Why are
you torturing him like this?”

“I’ve decided
he needs a little nudge in the right direction.”

His tone had
changed, and Marissa realized that at last he was speaking the truth. “A nudge?
In what direction? How does making him furious and overly possessive accomplish
anything worthwhile?”

Baron stared at
her for a minute, as if he were trying to figure her out. “I can’t believe you don’t
already know.”

Marissa felt
dread grow in her belly—like she
did
know what was coming but wanted to continue
ignoring it for as long as possible. “Stop acting all superior and
condescending. If you have something to say, just say it.”

Baron slid both
hands around her waist. Since her hand was left dangling in the air, she
shifted her arms until they were twined behind his neck.

It had been a
long time since Marissa had danced this way with a man.

Leaning toward
her, his lips almost at her ear, he murmured, “Why do you think Caleb gets so
angry when I flirt with you?”

She shifted her
head slightly, knowing Baron was trying to gain some kind of power over her by
his erotic voice and manner. It was starting to make her uncomfortable—sure—but
she wasn’t someone who would turn to mush from the sound of a man’s voice or
his breath on her ear. “He’s jealous, of course.”

Baron looked
momentarily surprised. “You
do
know, then. I wondered if you were as
innocent of this as you appeared.”

Marissa wasn’t
quite sure what he meant by that, but she didn’t like the sound of it at all.
“I know what? That Caleb is jealous? Of course, I know that. I’m not an idiot.”
She pitched her voice to sound worldly and experienced, although she wasn’t
really feeling that way. Rather, she felt baffled and queasy—still with the
sense that something bad was coming. “You’re trespassing on his territory. It’s
some kind of primal alpha-male reaction. Make any move on something that Caleb
sees as his, and he’ll get riled up and immediately launch a defensive
counterstrike.”

Since Baron didn’t
immediately respond, she continued, “I feel jealous of him sometimes too. We’ve
been friends a long time, and that leads to some unavoidable possessive
feelings.”

“I see. So you
actually think he’s reacting as a friend would.”

“Not any
friend, no. But in a friendship like mine and Caleb’s, maybe.”

“Take it from
someone who knows. He’s not looking at you like a friend.”

Marissa stared
up at him—wishing somehow she could go back in time thirty seconds and stop him
from saying those words.

The whole world
had shifted with his voice.

And not in a
good way.

“Don’t be
ridiculous. We’ve always only been friends. He doesn’t even find me
attractive.” When Baron looked like he was about to argue, she rushed on, “I
know
he doesn’t. I’ve had plenty of evidence of that.”

“I wouldn’t
know anything about that. I find it hard to believe any man could not find you
attractive, but if it was true about Caleb in the past, it’s not true any
longer. He looks at you like he wants to swallow you whole.”

Marissa tried
to block his words from her consciousness. Baron was making her confused and
hot and embarrassed.

And he was
wrong. What did he know about it anyway? He’d probably never had a purely
platonic relationship with a woman, so he wouldn’t comprehend it when he saw
it.

But Baron’s
last statement had conjured up certain images in her mind—pictures of how Caleb
had been looking at her lately. Details she'd been doing her best to ignore, to
push back in the dark corner of her mind.

She shuddered,
remembering how she’d felt last night, before Caleb had called her. She’d been
forced to admit the reality of those feelings. Feelings she hadn’t experienced
in a really long time.

No. She wouldn’t
think about it. Things were good as they were. Even
thoughts
about sex
would only mess up their friendship. Sex messed everything up. And that’s not
what she wanted from Caleb.

Baron’s hands
had slid down to her butt, and she blinked at him in surprise. “If you think Caleb
is interested in me—which I’m not convinced of—but if you think he is, then why
are you groping me on the dance floor?”

Easing her hips
into his, Baron murmured, “He's restraining himself more effectively than I’d
expected, so I have to bump things up a notch.”

She shook her
head, about to chide him for his immature baiting of Caleb. But the proximity
of her hips to his was making her even queasier, so she pulled away slightly,
so there was room once again between their bodies.

“I guess that
means you’re not interested in having a good time with me,” Baron drawled,
smiling in amusement.

“You know it’s
not personal.” She cocked her head to one side, studying the confusion on his
face. “Don’t you know? I guess not. You see, the thing is, I don’t have sex at
all.”

Marissa supposed
it was a kind of victory—that her blunt, matter-of-fact statement had caused
the suave, composed Baron James to actually jerk in surprise.

“You don’t have
sex?” he gasped finally, when he’d overcome his shock enough to speak.

She shrugged
again, feeling a little awkward suddenly. “No. I’m just not into it.”

His eyes
widened with dazed awe. Then he smiled slightly and tilted his head to murmur
against her ear. “Poor Caleb is going to have an even harder time than I
imagined.”

Marissa really
wished he’d stop saying things like that. Those thoughts were better absent
from her mind.

She was about
to respond, when Baron glanced over her shoulder. “Hmm. You said Caleb has been
about to explode all night. I do believe the explosion has finally occurred.”

Before Marissa
could react, or even turn her head to look, she felt a hand on her shoulder. A
strong, skillful, familiar hand. And one that felt very possessive.

“I think this
is
my
dance,” Caleb said, his voice thick, gritty, tense.

When she
turned, she could see coiled power and emotion smoldering just under the surface.

Baron smiled
with infuriating nonchalance. “And what if I wasn’t finished with
my
dance?”

“You
were
finished.” Caleb took a step closer to Baron but didn’t remove his hand from her
shoulder.

Marissa
couldn’t remember ever seeing Caleb this provoked. Baron had definitely
succeeded at whatever he was attempting.

“I’ll dance
with Caleb now,” she said quickly, pulling her hand away from Baron. “Fair’s
fair. You already had your turn.”

Baron gave her
a final knowing look. “How diplomatic. Did you actually think I was going to
get into a scuffle in the middle of a crowded restaurant?”

Maybe Baron had
no intentions of doing so, but Marissa wasn’t so sure about Caleb. He looked
like it would take very little for him to erupt into violence, and that was not
something she wanted to witness.

“Go away,” she
said, swatting Baron on the chest lightly. “I’m dancing with Caleb now.”

Grinning, Baron
strolled away, looking ridiculously pleased with himself.

Caleb watched
him depart and made a sound in his throat, one that could almost have been a
growl.

Something about
the guttural sound made her shiver.

“Caleb,” she
began, positioning herself for their dance. “You really shouldn’t let Baron—”

“Shh,” he
demanded, sliding his arm around her waist and pulling her close to him. “No
talking. Just dancing.”

Shrugging, Marissa
decided that would be just as well. She had a lot to think about anyway.

Not that she
was going to seriously consider that nonsense of Baron's. Really. Caleb
couldn’t be interested in her that way. Not sexually.

Sure, he was
acting rather bizarre, but it was probably prompted by the challenge Baron
posed. It was just some silly, masculine, dominance thing. It wasn't actually
about
her
. At least, not in
that
way.

Caleb’s gaze
was mesmerizing in its intensity. It felt like his silver-gray eyes scorched
every part of her body they touched, and they seemed to touch everywhere—all
over her body—as the motion of the dance continued.

She shuddered
again, and at her shudder he pulled her even closer, so that her breasts were
rubbing against his chest every time their hips swayed together.

She could
actually feel her nipples.
Feel
them. Was suddenly scared that Caleb
could feel them too.

They’d danced
together before, but it had never been like this.

He’d never held
her this close or stared at her this deeply. Baron had said that Caleb looked
at her like he wanted to swallow her whole.

Marissa tore
her eyes away. That couldn’t be right. They were friends. Just friends. Had
never been anything else. Why would Caleb all of a sudden want to change
things?

It felt like
she was burning up, and she knew her cheeks must be blazing red. Her lips felt
parched, so she slid her tongue out to lick them nervously. Tried to moisten
them enough so they wouldn't feel like cracking.

Then she caught
a look on Caleb’s face—one she'd never seen there before—and quickly returned
her tongue to her mouth.

This was all Baron’s
fault. He was the one who'd put these ridiculous ideas in her head to begin
with.

If it weren’t
for him, she wouldn’t have thought anything was unusual at all. Wouldn’t notice
the heat radiating off Caleb’s body. The fiery possessiveness of his gaze. The
almost erotic rocking of his hips. The seductive circles his hand made as it
warmly caressed her back.

The same hand
that slowly slid farther down, tracing along the curves that Baron had been
touching only minutes ago. But it didn’t feel like it had when Baron palmed her
ass.

It felt like Caleb’s
fingers were branding her, even through the fabric of her dress.

The dress that Marissa
had bought just that afternoon because it was Caleb’s favorite shade of dark
red.

But she had
done that because she loved him. Loved him as a friend. And he’d been making
her so happy and mushy lately. It had been a silly, sappy gesture, but it had
been innocent.

This—this was
different. This was physical and unnerving and wrong.

This wasn’t how
it was supposed to be. Not with Caleb.

“Caleb?” she
whispered, looking up at his intense face, her eyes pleading for him to make
everything harmless and familiar and secure again between them.

He shook his
head and pulled her even closer, until her body was snugly pressed up against
him. “Not now.”

His body was
hard, strong, and graceful. And familiar. Marissa had always loved being near
it, loved feeling it beside her, against her.

His body had
always made her feel safe.

It didn’t
anymore.

She was almost
crying with confusion and dismay as her whole world slowly, inevitably fell
down around her. Things had been so good. She and Caleb had been getting so
close, so happy. Everything had been so…secure.

Then the rest
of her shattered world tumbled down when she unconsciously pressed into his
pelvis. And felt something there.

Something that
should not be there. Not when Caleb was dancing with
her
.

She gasped as
she felt the bulge of what had to be his arousal. Waves of heat, of
mortification, of bewilderment assailed her, and she briefly hid her face in
his shoulder.