The Family Plan (The McClouds of Mississippi 1)

“How about if we just attend the sympathy, I mean, the symphony,” she corrected herself quickly.

He chuckled. “Careful. The poppet wears off on you.”

“I suppose you’re right.” She settled back into her seat and ordered herself to relax for the remainder of the evening. After all, she told herself sternly, this was merely a date. And he was only Nathan, a man she had known quite comfortably for almost a year now.

So why wasn’t she at all comfortable with him tonight?

Chapter Twelve

The concert hall was crowded, and there were many people in attendance Caitlin and Nathan knew. No one seemed particularly surprised to see them there together. Was it simply assumed they were there as friends and business partners, or did most people already consider them a couple?

Caitlin couldn’t help wondering what was being said about them, but she decided not to dwell on it tonight. It certainly wasn’t as if she had any control over local gossip.

She did notice as they swapped greetings on their way to their seats that no one mentioned Isabelle. Or Nathan’s mother. But maybe that was just as well, she thought, taking her seat and preparing to enjoy the performance.

Of course, it was hard to concentrate on the music when she was so very aware of the man sitting in the seat beside her. His shoulder brushed against hers, and when he shifted his long legs in the narrow space provided for them, their thighs made contact.

She felt ridiculously like a schoolgirl on her first date, so painfully self-conscious that her mouth was dry. When his hand slipped over the shared arm of their chairs to entwine with hers in the darkness, she completely forgot the theme of the program.

Mozart or Mendelssohn? Bach or the Beatles? She wasn’t sure she could have said just then.

How could she have imagined there were so many erogenous zones in her hand? She had never suspected, for example, that the skin between her fingers was so sensitive. And when his thumb rotated slowly in the center of her palm, she felt heat rush through her, pooling somewhere deep inside her abdomen. She kept her eyes focused fiercely on the stage, though she no longer cared who was doing what there.

She made it through intermission by plastering a smile on her face and nodding brightly in response to everything that was said to her, though she wasn’t sure she actually heard a word of it. She was, however, all too keenly conscious of every time Nathan rested a hand at the center of her back or touched her arm or smiled at her.

Her emotions had swung from bemused to despairing. This was not the way she preferred to behave in public! Here she had an excellent opportunity to mingle, to discreetly drop the name of their firm into casual conversations, to make potentially important business connections, and what was she doing? Blushing and daydreaming like a silly schoolgirl. Acting more like a woman in the throes of her first big infatuation than an intelligent, L.A.-quality attorney.

Even that fleeting thought of Los Angeles made her swallow hard. She really should tell Nathan about Tom’s letter. Just as important, she really should give Tom a more definitive response than the vague interest she had expressed thus far.

Nathan held her hand again during the second part of the program. Such a simple little gesture, almost innocently sweet. Yet there was nothing at all innocent about her reaction. She wanted to climb all over him.

They were rather quiet again during the drive back to Nathan’s house. It was getting late, and she could have used the excuse that she was tired, but she wasn’t. She was more wired than she’d been in a long time.

“Come in for a little while,” Nathan said when he’d parked in his garage. “We’ll have coffee or something.”

She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m not sure I—”

“Please.”

She moistened her lips. “All right.”

It was well after 10:00 p.m., so Isabelle was sleeping. Mrs. T. sat at the kitchen table reading. She looked up with a smile when they walked in. “Did you enjoy the performance?”

“It was very nice,” Caitlin replied, fervently hoping she wouldn’t be expected to give any details.

The housekeeper closed her book and stood. “I’ll be on my way now. Isabelle was an angel, as always. A bit quieter than usual, I thought, especially as the night wore on, but I suppose that’s because she’s grown accustomed to having you here with her in the evenings, Mr. McCloud. She’s sleeping now. I just looked in on her. And I made a fresh pot of coffee—decaf, of course, since it’s so late. I thought you and Ms. Briley might like to have a cup while you talk about your evening.”

Nathan smiled warmly. “Have I mentioned that you’re a treasure?”

Her eyebrows lifted in what appeared to be surprise that he felt it necessary to state the obvious. “I’ll see you Monday morning, Mr. McCloud. Nice to see you again, Ms. Briley.”

With a faint ripple of panic, Caitlin watched the forceful, prosaic housekeeper leave. With the exception of the toddler sleeping in the other room, she and Nathan were alone now with the feelings that had been simmering between them all evening, steadily reaching boiling point.

Though his gaze was on her face, as if reading the emotions reflected there, Nathan moved toward the counter and spoke casually, “Coffee?”

“I should probably go soon. It’s getting late.”

“Mrs. T. went to the trouble to make coffee for us. It would be a shame to let it go to waste.”