Genuine Lies

herself in the mindless task of cleaning, so she opted to cook.
    Domestic chores never failed to soothe her. During the first few weeks after she’d discovered she was pregnant, Julia had spent endless hours with a cloth and lemon oil patiently, persistently, polishing furniture and woodwork. Of course, clothes had been scattered around her room, shoes lost in the closet. But the furniture had gleamed. Later, she had realized that the monotony of the simple chore had saved her from more than one bout of hysteria.
    It was then she had decided, quite calmly, against abortion or adoption, both of which she had seriously, painfully considered. More than ten years later, she knew the choice, for her, had been the right one.
    Now she put together one of Brandon’s favorite dishes. Homemade pizza that he had come to take for granted. Theextra time and trouble helped her deal with the guilt she often felt during those weeks she was away on tour, and more, for all the times when a book was so involving and immediate that she could do no better than a quick combination of soup and sandwich.
    She set the dough aside to rise and began to make the sauce. While she worked she thought of her home in the East. Would her neighbor remember to knock the snow off the yews and junipers? Would she be back in time to start sweet peas and larkspur from seed? Could she manage this spring to get that puppy Brandon so desperately wanted?
    Would the nights be as lonely when she returned as they were beginning to be here?
    “Something smells good.”
    Startled, she glanced toward the kitchen doorway. There was Paul, leaning comfortably against the jamb, his hands in the pockets of snug, faded jeans, a friendly smile on his face. Instantly she was as tense as he was relaxed. Perhaps he had already forgotten the fevered embrace enjoyed at their last meeting. But it had left a mark on Julia.
    “CeeCee let me in,” he said when Julia remained silent. “I see you’ve met Dustin, the crown prince of chaos.”
    “It’s nice for Brandon to have a friend his own age.” Stiffly, she went back to stirring the sauce.
    “Everyone needs a friend,” Paul murmured. “I know that look.” Though her back was to him, she heard the smile in his voice as he came into the room. “You’re waiting for an apology for my … ungentlemanly behavior the other night.” Casually, he brushed fingertips down the length of her neck, exposed as her hair was swept up in an untidy bun. “I can’t accommodate you there, Jules.”
    She shrugged off his hand in a move she knew was bad tempered. “I’m not looking for an apology.” Her brows were drawn together as she glanced over her shoulder. “What are you looking for, Paul?”
    “Conversation, companionship.” He leaned closer to the pot and sniffed. “Maybe a hot meal.”
    When he turned his head, his face was inches from hers.There were twin lights of humor and challenge in his eyes. Damn him, that quick spear of heat jabbed right into her midsection.
    “And,” he added, “whatever else I can get.”
    She jerked her head around. The spoon clanged against the pot. “I’d think all of those things would be available to you elsewhere.”
    “Sure. But I like it here.” In a move too smooth to be threatening, he put his hands on the stove, effectively caging her. “It’s good for my ego to see just how nervous I make you.”
    “Not nervous,” she said, having no compunction about the lie. “Annoyed.”
    “Either way. It’s a reaction.” He smiled, amused by the knowledge that she would go on stirring the sauce from now until Armageddon rather than turn and chance being caught in his arms. Unless he made her mad enough. “The problem with you, Jules, is you’re too uptight to take a kiss at face value.”
    Her teeth set. “I am not uptight.”
    “Sure you are.” He sniffed at her hair, deciding it was every bit as enticing as the bubbling herbs. “I did my research, remember? I couldn’t find one man you’ve been linked to seriously in the past decade.”
    “My personal life is just that. However many men I chose to include in that life is none of your damn business.”
    “Exactly. But it’s so fascinating that the number is zero. My dear Julia, don’t you know there’s nothing more tempting to a man than a woman who holds her passion on a choke chain? We tell ourselves we’ll be the one to make her lose her grip.” Adroitly, he touched his mouth to hers in a brief, arrogant kiss