She had to get away. After tonight it was going to be just plain horrible trying to stay in the same house with Calhoun until her birthday.
The next morning she slept late. She usually got up and went to church, but this time she played hooky. She didn’t want to risk running into Calhoun.
But as it was, there was nothing to worry about. When she finally went downstairs at lunchtime, wearing jeans and a beige knit top, her hair in a ponytail, Calhoun was nowhere in sight.
“Good morning,” Justin said from the head of the table, smiling faintly. “How did it go last night?”
“Don’t ask,” she groaned. She sat down and glanced nervously at the door. “Is he here?”
He shook his head and filled his cup with coffee then passed the carafe to Abby. “He’s still asleep,” he said. That was surprising, because Calhoun was usually up early. Justin actually grinned then. “What happened?”
“He thinks I should be in before two o’clock in the morning, even if he isn’t,” she said calmly. “And you’re too old for me,” she added with a faint grin, eyeing him.
He chuckled. “What else?”
“He’s going crazy, Justin,” she said. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him lately. It can’t be his love life—his model seemed to be more than willing,” she added cattily.
Justin looked at her, but he didn’t reply. He poured cream into his coffee. “Oh, I almost forgot. Misty phoned. Something about having an apartment she wanted you to look at today if you want to go with her.”
“Yes, I think I do,” she murmured with a cold glance at the staircase.
“You know I don’t approve of Misty as your prospective roommate,” Justin told her honestly. “But it’s your decision.”
“You’re a nice man.”
“I’m glad you think so. Obviously my brother thinks I’m as big a rake as he is.” He chuckled.
“Thank God you aren’t,” she sighed. “One in the family is enough!”
“If you’re going out, you’d better wear a jacket,” Justin warned. “I stepped out to get the paper and almost froze in place.”
Abby sighed again. “And they keep saying spring is just around the corner.”
She finished her breakfast and called Misty to tell her she’d be right over. Then she returned to her room to get her burgundy velour jacket. She was looping the last button when she turned to the open door and found Calhoun standing there, looking at her broodingly.
He’d just showered. He was bare chested, and his blond hair was damp. But Abby’s eyes stopped at his brawny chest in helpless appreciation of the sheer masculinity of him. He leaned idly against the doorjamb, and muscles rippled under the wedge of thick brown hair that ran down into the wide belt around his slender hips. He didn’t smile, and his dark eyes had heavy circles underneath them. He looked as tired as Abby felt.
“Where are you going now?” he asked coldly.
“Out to look at apartments,” she said carelessly. “In a little over two and a half months I’ll be needing one.”
“How does Justin feel about that?” he asked, his eyes narrowing angrily.
“Justin isn’t the one who’s trying to keep me in a cage,” she replied. She was tired of the whole thing, of his unreasonable anger and even of Justin playing cupid. “Look, Justin just took me out for a meal. He didn’t park the car and try to make love to me. He isn’t that kind of man, and you should be ashamed of yourself for thinking he is. Justin’s like a brother to me. Just…as you are,” she finished, averting her eyes. “I don’t have romantic thoughts about either one of you.”
“And that’s a damned lie,” he said in a cold tone. He jerked away from the door, slamming it behind him, bringing her shocked eyes to him as he advanced toward her. “I’m no more your brother than I’m your great-uncle.”
She backed up into a chair, swerved and made it to the wall. He looked dangerous, and she didn’t know how to handle this lightning mood switch.
“That’s what you want me to be,” she said accusingly, pressing against the cold wall. “You want me to be a kid sister and not get in your way or make eyes at you—”
“My God, I don’t know what I want anymore,” he ground out as he placed his big hands on either side of her head, his body too close, too sensuous, too deliciously masculine. The scent of him filled her nostrils, excited her senses. She could see the tiny golden tips of the hair on his chest now, glittering in the light. Glittering…like the dark, intent eyes that caught hers and held them.
“Calhoun, I have to go,” she said, her voice faltering.
“Why?” he asked.
She could see him breathing. His chest rose and fell roughly, as if he were having a hard time getting air in and out. She felt that way herself. He was too close, and her vulnerability was going to start showing any minute. She couldn’t bear to have him see her weakness and make fun of it.
“Stop it,” she whispered huskily, closing her eyes. “Damn you, stop…oh!”
He had her mouth under his so smoothly and easily that her heart seemed to stop beating. He wasn’t gentle, either. It was as if the feel of her soft body under his made him wild, made him hungry.
In fact, he was starving for her. He leaned down so that his hips and thighs were fully against her, so that his bare chest was against the velour of her jacket. He didn’t like not being able to feel her breasts, so he snapped open the buttons of the jacket and pushed the material aside. He felt her gasp as her breasts pressed against him, and he groaned, marveling at the warm softness of her. Nudging her lips apart, he nipped sensuously at the lower one. That was arousing, too, and he wanted her. He wanted her mouth as he wanted her soft, sweet young body. His tongue pushed into her mouth, past her lips, tangling with her own, and he groaned and gave her his full weight, pressing her against the wall.
Abby was frightened. She hadn’t expected anything quite so adult, and she’d never been kissed by anyone who had any expertise. Calhoun was experienced, and he was kissing her as if she knew all the answers, too. But she didn’t. The feel of his body in such unfamiliar intimacy was embarrassing, and his mouth was doing shocking things to her own. She pushed at his chest, afraid of his lack of control.
“No!” she whimpered.
He barely heard her. His mind was spinning, his body in torment. He managed to lift his head, breathing roughly, and look down at her. But the passion and delight he had expected to see in her pale eyes was missing. They were wide, but not with desire. With…fear!
He scowled. Her hands were on his chest, but they were pushing, not caressing, and she was crying.
“Abby,” he whispered gently. “Honey…”
“Let me…go,” she sobbed brokenly. “Oh, let me go!” She pushed again, harder.
This time he flexed his hands against the wall and pushed away from her, leaving
