by Mary Campisi
“I started working here because of the food.” She met his gaze, held it, finished with “What can I say? I love moo goo gai pan.”
They didn’t meet again until five days later when Luke’s head was clear, and his brain was synapsing. The woman had occupied his thoughts during waking and sleeping hours since he met her, and he wanted to see her again. No doubt the obsession had more to do with his debilitated state and less to do with reality, and he planned to find out. Actually, he planned to confirm his suspicions that the cold meds and the foggy brain were the reason for his altered reality.
But once he saw her again, he had to admit he’d been dead wrong.
The attraction was real and the heat between them had nothing to do with the coffeehouse’s fireplace. The look on Helena’s face when she spotted him said she felt it too and was just as surprised, and from the frown, just as perplexed. Maybe that’s why she’d nixed his offer for dinner and recommended coffee instead. Tame. Easy. Noncommittal. Yeah, that’s what he’d do if he were trying to get a bead on another person and make sure she didn’t get the wrong impression about accepting an invitation. She’d even bought her own coffee before he showed up. Nothing like making sure he understood this was not a date—or anything. Luke ordered a coffee, unzipped his jacket, and made his way to the leather chair next to hers.
“Hey. I could have sprung for your coffee.”
Helena eyed him. “And I could have sprung for yours if I’d known what you like.”
Ah, a woman with attitude. He laughed, sank into the chair, and set his coffee on the table between them. “Black, the strongest they’ve got.”
“I’m not surprised.”
“I’m guessing you’re a sugar, splash of cream kind of girl?”
Her laughter shot through him, made a beeline to his crotch. “Black, the strongest they’ve got.” The laughter faded. “You seem to have recovered from your cold.”
“Back to normal.” Her eyes were amber, like a bourbon neat.
“You were a lot less intimidating the other day with your raspy voice and your hair sticking out all over the place. Unshaven, dressed in sweat pants with a cough that threatened to contaminate the whole restaurant.”
He shrugged, tried to ignore the heat creeping up his neck. “Yeah, that was not my best moment.” Luke rubbed his jaw, slid his gaze to her. “And yet you helped me.”
“You reminded me of a stray puppy I once rescued.”
“I see.” This woman was never going to let his head swell, that was for sure. Unlike the usual ones who couldn’t wait to tell him how perfect he was, movie-star handsome and sexy as hell. Of course, it was all a setup for whatever they wanted from him. But this one seemed different and that intrigued the hell out of him.
“I didn’t mean that as an insult; it’s just that I enjoyed talking with you the other night. There was no subterfuge, no come-ons...just talking.” Her smile pulled out the dimples on either side of her cheeks. “When you weren’t coughing or sputtering from a hot-mustard jolt. It was refreshing.” She paused, said in a quiet voice, “And that’s why I accepted the invitation to coffee. Usually, I would just say thanks but no thanks.”
And why was that? He wanted to know, wondered if something had happened to turn her off men. She was probably in her late twenties, a few years younger than he was, but old enough to have gotten blown up by a relationship and a guy. “I’m glad you didn’t.” If they were sharing partial truths, he might as well offer one of his own. “My friends’ wives have been trying to match me up with the perfect woman who they swear will change my life. Not that I’ve asked them to, but they’ve decided it’s what I need.”
“How’s it worked out for you?”
Luke winced. “Not well. I’ve been uninvited to almost all my friends’ houses. Their wives say I’m a bad influence who needs taming.”
“Are they wrong?”
The question slipped between his defenses, hovered like a butterfly waiting to land. “The expectations were wrong.” He met her gaze, admitted the truth. “The women were wrong, too. Finding the right one is the key. I never believed that before, but...the premise has value, I see that now.” Helena sipped her coffee, stared at the fire as though contemplating what he’d said. There was so much he didn’t know about her and for the first time in his life, he was curious enough to want to stick around and find out more. Was that crazy? Was he crazy? He’d only just met her...
“Why are you really here, Luke?” She dragged her gaze to his, offered a sad smile. “If it’s to sleep with me, you’ve picked the wrong person.”
“I want to get to know you, Helena. When I met you the other night, I felt a connection, even with a world-class cold and foggy brain. I think you felt it, too.” He waited for her to deny it and when she didn’t he continued. “You’ve haunted me since that night and I had to see you again to make sure it wasn’t the cold meds or the fever playing games with me.” His voice dipped. “It wasn’t.”
She bit her bottom lip, blinked hard. “That is not what I want to hear.”
“But?”
“You’re right...there was a ...connection of some sort.”
Not a joy-filled acknowledgment, but he’d take it. “Okay, then.”
“Okay, then?” Her brows pinched together. “What does that mean?”
Luke stretched out his legs, crossed his booted feet at the ankles, and said, “That means we’ll get to know each other...nice and slow...you set the rules and the groundwork. I’ll follow your lead.” He reached across the small table, clasped her hand. “And we’ll see where it takes us.”
Chapter 2
A woman should never believe a man like Luke whose last name she didn’t know when he told her he’d take it slow and let her set the pace. What he really meant was he’d use his easygoing charm and soft-talking persuasion to convince her she didn’t want to go slow...or pace herself. He would get her so spun up that she’d be the one doing the undressing and touching, she’d be the one who broke the rules and took him to bed—even though she knew she shouldn’t.
And that’s exactly what happened though she’d be lying if she said she regretted it. A woman didn’t regret a night with a man like Luke; she prayed for more. Helena tried not to notice the way her belly fluttered when he spoke her name or the heat that swirled through her when she caught those pale blue eyes watching her. The man was too darn handsome: the perfect nose, the full lips, the golden highlights streaking curls the color of whiskey. And she did not want to think about the tanned and toned body because it was just too distracting, and she was not going to be distracted by any man.
Unless that man looked like the stranger who’d coughed and sniffed his way into her life less than a week ago. Then, she had to reconsider. I don’t even know your last name, she’d said when he asked her to dinner that night at the coffeehouse.
Donovan, he’d murmured, his lips pulling into a slow smile. Lucas John Donovan. What else do you want to know? He’d closed the distance between them, cupped her chin with his thumb and forefinger, and placed a breathtakingly soft kiss on her lips.
What else did she want to know? Nothing, because her brain couldn’t function. He must have known because he pulled back, traced her lips with his fingers and whispered, Just give me your address and I’ll pick you up tomorrow at 6:00.
Helena should have told him she’d changed her mind or given him a fake address, but she hadn’t. Oh no. Not only had she provided him with her real address, she’d given him her cell phone number. Did that not say desperate and dying to see you again?
She wasn’t desperate, but she did want to see Luke Donovan again and there was no pretending she didn’t. It had been thirteen months since her fiancé killed her dreams when he admitted he was in love with someone else. That was a long time to let pain devour her, wasn’t it? Trust would not come easy or fast, but perhaps she could begin a vetting process of sorts: make sure Luke Donovan cared about her and not her money, determine if he really could
invest in a relationship with one woman. If he passed the test, well then, who knew what might happen?
Unfortunately, it was the unknown that petrified her and the fact that she might not be objective where this man was concerned. How could she be when his fresh scent filled the cab of the truck, his voice seeping into her brain, his long fingers just a touch away? They’d dined at a local steakhouse and talked about food, movies, country music, the town. He shared the exhilaration of skydiving, the adventures of hiking through the Rockies, and the peace that comes in the black of night. She talked about volunteering at an animal shelter, finding the perfect cup of coffee, and how music calmed her. When she told him she wrote greeting cards on the side and had even sold a few, he’d called her brave and talented.
If he only knew the truth.
But how could she tell him she and her two siblings had inherited the greeting card company from their parents, or that she’d created the Annabelle Grace card line when she was still in college? That bit of information sharing would highlight the fact that she had money and lots of it. She’d once again become the perfect target for a man set on increasing his wealth through acquisition of a woman, namely her assets. It was much too soon to admit those truths...but she wasn’t the only one holding back. The hesitancy behind Luke’s words told her there was a chunk of his personal life he hadn’t owned up to either. Maybe they were both waiting to see if the other person would earn the right to learn them.
They left the steakhouse and Luke drove her back to the apartment she was subleasing. He parked the truck, turned to her. “I’ve never met a woman who was easier to talk to than you are.” His full lips pulled into a slow smile. “You have a way of making a man feel like he’s the only one on this earth.”
Well, maybe that was because when Luke Donovan was near a woman, there was no other man breathing in her universe. Of course, she couldn’t tell him that so she merely shrugged and said, “I know the feeling.”
“Helena.” His smile faded and he leaned toward her, kissed her.
She moaned against his lips, opened her mouth, and let him deepen the kiss. So tempting. Mesmerizing. Delicious. Helena broke the kiss. “This is really not a good idea.” But oh, how she wanted it.
He planted a kiss on her right temple, held her gaze. “Nope.”
She sucked in a breath, tried to think, but he was too close. “I don’t go in for casual...acquaintances.”
His voice dipped. “Good to know.”
“And I’m not looking for long-term either.”
“Uh-huh.” He fingered the first button of her shirt.
She squirmed, tried to wriggle away. “Maybe you should stop.” She cleared her throat, clasped her hands on his shoulders, and pulled him closer.
“Yeah.” He unbuttoned the first button, dipped a finger inside the opening of her shirt, touched her flesh. “Maybe.” He did stop before he reached the next button, eased away, and let out a long sigh. “I think you’d better go inside.” His gaze burned into her, matched the heat in his voice when he asked, “Can I see you again?”
The sizzle between them made it impossible to say no.
Helena saw Luke the next two nights and at the end of each evening he walked her to the door, placed a soft kiss on her mouth, and headed to his own place—and his own bed. On the third night when he leaned down to kiss her, she flung her arms around his neck, pressed her body against his, and kissed him with all the passion and need she’d been storing up for so many months. “Come inside,” she breathed against his lips.
Luke pulled away, met her gaze, his eyes bright under the glow of the moon. “Are you sure?”
Of course, she wasn’t sure. The man created feelings inside her that were raw and deep and terrifying. But that wasn’t going to stop her from giving him an answer. “Yes,” she whispered, stroking his jaw.
He kissed her again, devoured her mouth, coaxing out tiny whimpers of need as he tasted, teased, and consumed her. When he broke the kiss, his eyes glittered, his voice turned hoarse. “Let’s go inside.”
They stayed in bed for two days, learning each other’s body, talking and not talking. Sharing in a way she’d never imagined and certainly never experienced before, not even with her fiancé. And yet, here she was, naked, in bed with a man she hadn’t known existed two weeks ago. Was she crazy? Desperate? Was any of this real or was it a fantasy that would end once they left the bed?
What if it didn’t end? What if these feelings were real and Luke felt them, too?
Then what?
The next morning, Luke headed home to change clothes before work with a promise to make chicken fajitas for her tonight. Thoughts of spending the night with him, in and out of bed, made her belly jump in ways that had nothing to do with her morning caffeine. Luke Donovan had worked his way into her brain, her heart, and her bed, and if she didn’t slow down, she’d never be able to observe him with an objective eye. How did one observe a person with objectivity when she was sleeping with him? When they were together, he treated her as though no other woman existed, but then didn’t most players possess the capacity to do that?
At least he didn’t know about her business or her financial position, but how long could she keep that a secret? Or rather, how long did she want to keep it a secret? She sipped her coffee and munched on a slice of peanut butter toast as she thought about the man who’d taken over huge chunks of her brain and her heart and shown no signs of leaving either one.
Helena grabbed a pad and started a grocery list for tonight’s dinner. Chicken breasts, red pepper, onions... The phone interrupted her thoughts and she grabbed it, spotted her sister’s number. “Hi, Estelle.”
“Helena? What’s going on? I’ve been trying to reach you since yesterday. Dominic and I were worried about you.”
“Worried? I’m fine.” So much better than fine...
Big sigh and a stern “Why can’t you just come home?”
Were they really going to have this conversation again? “You know why. San Diego isn’t my home anymore.”
“Because of that jerk ex-fiancé who used you? You could move to the other side of the city and chances are you’d never run into him. Besides—” she let out a harsh laugh “—seems Mr. Cheater’s perfect world is about to land on top of him. Guess he has a problem being second to a baby, even if the baby’s his. And I hear the wife thinks real men change diapers and do the grocery shopping.” More laughter. “Mr. Cheater apparently missed the seminar on what constitutes a good partner. Of course, he also missed the one on what constitutes a decent human being, but we already knew that.”
“Estelle, I really don’t care about him.” She’d said that so many times and yet, this time, it really was true.
“Well, I do. I want to enjoy every detail of his crash-and-burn and when he lands in the ashes, I’ll be the first one to cheer.”
Helena rubbed her temple, tried to comprehend what her sister had just told her. “How do you know all of this? And why do you know it?” None of this made any sense unless her sister was projecting her dislike on the man and her desire to see him punished. Or she’d hired a private investigator to provide details. The last possibility clung to Helena, made her ask, “Did you hire someone to investigate him? Please tell me you didn’t do that.”
“Why not? I did have him investigated, and only wish I’d done it before the two of you became serious. Then we’d have known all about him and the other girlfriend, and that he was using you to get whatever he could, especially your money.”
Estelle had never learned the art of protecting another person’s feelings, especially Helena’s. “Gee, thanks, I guess no man would ever want me for me.” She meant to be sarcastic but a tiny piece of her believed the words, and maybe that was another reason she hadn’t told Luke about her business or her money.
“That’s not it at all, but you’ve always been too trusting and much too innocent where men are concerned. You wouldn’t know a player or a con artist if he sat next to you. Do
minic and I have to keep you safe; that’s what family does.”
That last part was debatable, at least in their family. Helena’s siblings wanted to keep her in San Diego so they could make sure she kept producing the greeting cards that paid for their fancy lifestyles. But did they really care about her? Did they want her to be happy? “So, were you just checking in or...”
“Both,” her sister said in a rushed voice. “Dominic and I have never liked you traipsing all over the country, but you said you needed the space to create. Be a wanderer and open your heart to the world, is what you said.” She blew out a sigh of irritation. “You and Daddy were so alike. Mama said he was more comfortable living out of a hotel room than his own house, but at least she always knew where he was. But you? You could be in Anchorage, Alaska, or Mobile, Alabama, and nobody would know.”
“That’s ridiculous.” Why was she being so melodramatic? Had something happened to upset her? “You always know where I’m headed, and I’ve always called you back within a few hours.” Except this time...because I was in bed with Luke Donovan.
“Ha! Is that supposed to make us feel better? Do you have any idea how helpless that makes us feel? I should have listened to Dominic and hired someone to keep an eye on you.”
“Hire someone? Don’t you ever do that, or I swear I will not be happy and then see how many cards I create.” Estelle was the marketing head of the company and Dominic was the business end, but they needed Helena to create, and when they tried to strong-arm their little sister, she reminded them of that not-so-insignificant fact.
“Oh, all right, calm down. We won’t hire anyone.” Silence followed by a softer inquiry. “Helena, where have you been?”
“Still in Colorado. Same small town.”