Free My Dearest Cal by Sherryl Woods

into laughter as he muttered his excuses and scrambled away from the table, leaving them to their coconut cake and coffee.
    Cal tilted his chair back and watched Marilou grow increasingly nervous. She fussed with her napkin andavoided his gaze as if she’d just realized the new intimacy of their relationship.
    “Settle down, girl,” he said gently. “I’m not out to ravish you.” Yet, he amended silently. He’d never taken a skittish woman yet, and the past few months on the farm had taught him a lot about patience and calming nerves. Unfortunately it had also been a time of celibacy, and a woman as pretty as Marilou could make a man in that condition a little crazy.
    “Maybe that’s what’s bothering me,” she said, clearly emboldened by his disclaimer.
    His whole body tensed at the unexpected taunt. That flash of daring in her nature was far more dangerous than she realized. “Careful, Marilou. I could change my mind real easy.”
    She smiled knowingly. “I’m not worried.”
    “You ought to be, sweetheart. I’m no saint.”
    “Oh, I know that,” she said breezily. “But I also know you’re not about to take a chance on involvement, not with a woman who’s already underfoot.”
    “Meaning?”
    “That your type of woman probably has one foot on a plane before you dare to kiss her.”
    The tart observation was so close to the mark, it astounded him. It also worried him a little that she could read him so well, while he couldn’t figure her out a bit. She was like a diamond, showing off new facets depending on which way it faced the light. That made her a challenge, and he knew himself well enough to recognize that made her the most dangerous woman he’d met in a long time. Still, instead ofkeeping his distance, he asked, “What about you? What’s kept you single all this time?”
    “I’m only twenty-five.”
    “I’m still surprised some man hasn’t snapped you up.”
    “I’m not running, if that’s what you mean. I suppose, if anything, I’ve just been waiting for the right man to come along.”
    “What would he be like?”
    “Intelligent, adventurous, maybe even a little wild,” she said with a grin that reminded him of a teenager sharing secret confidences. “Know anyone who fits those qualifications?”
    “What does a woman who bakes corn bread and coconut cake want with a man who’s wild?”
    “You know what they say, opposites attract.”
    “Maybe so, but do they last?”
    “You’re asking the wrong person. I haven’t met a man like that yet, much less tried to make the relationship work.”
    “You could always practice with me,” he offered.
    He watched as she swallowed hard, then worked to hide her sudden nervousness. “I’m not so sure you’re as wild and daring as you’d like me to believe. In fact, I think you might be surprised at just how domesticated you could become if you gave yourself half a chance.”
    He found himself grinning. “So, based on your analysis, we’re not opposites at all?”
    “Not deep down.”
    “Then, according to the theory, there should be no attraction.”
    “That’s right,” she said with that devilish gleam reappearing in her eyes.
    That glint, like moonlight on emeralds, was yet another challenge he couldn’t refuse. He reached out, hooked his hand around a rung of the ladder-back chair and dragged her to him. Before she could recover from the sudden movement, his lips were on hers, catching her soft gasp of surprise. His fingers curved around her bare shoulders, savoring the smooth texture that was like silk against the sandpaper roughness of his calluses. Her hands were pressed against his chest. After one startled push, a faint flutter of protest, they gentled against him. Her tongue, shy and hesitant, touched his lips, then retreated, as if she were afraid to dare more. It was the touch of an angel with the impact of Satan.
    No more experienced kiss had ever awakened such wonder, such desperate wanting in him. No sweet