No Other Love

by Jean Adams

  Jenna finally forced a smile to lips that felt as though they’d been set in concrete. “No apology necessary.”

  “Thank you,” he said.

  Jenna resolved that whatever it took, tonight she’d have another crack at bringing a smile to that sexy mouth. Just once.

  Someone cleared their throat.

  Jenna snapped her gaze away from his tempting mouth to see a face peering over his shoulder at her. “When you two have quite finished canoodling, would you mind moving along?”

  Lucas’ gaze swept over her face. “We appear to be holding up the chow line.”

  “Oh, sorry.”

  Jenna swallowed and dragged her gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes, turning to face forward. Canoodling? If only. Good grief! Another rogue thought. Heat crawled up her neck. She turned, plopped a moist chicken breast onto her plate to hide her embarrassment and moved on, very conscious that Lucas was close behind her. He didn’t speak again as they made their way to the end of the line. When she turned to say something, he was already on his way back to the table. So much for his apology.

  Disappointed he hadn’t waited, Jenna trailed behind him back to the table. But why should she care? She had her own plans, didn’t she? And they didn’t include men at this stage. She’d be all right as long as she kept keep reminding herself of that.

  So why did she get the impression her dream had just tilted a little?

  As far as making Lucas smile was concerned, the evening went from bad to worse. Apart from that one blip in the buffet queue, for the rest of the evening he didn’t speak to her, barely looked at her. Or so she thought. Every time her gaze flicked in his direction he was observing her. He quickly averted his gaze when she glanced across the expanse of white tablecloth.

  A short time after dinner, a ladies’ invitation was announced and Jenna determined to ask Lucas for that particular bracket of dances. But what would she do if he refused? Despite his apology, he might say thanks but no thanks, embarrass her in front of everyone. Maybe it’d be best if she waited a little while, at least until most of the other couples at their table were on the dance floor. Some were slow to rise so by the time they were finally alone, half the first dance was over.

  To her horror, Jenna spotted Steve Collins bearing down on her from the other side of the room. He was a nasty piece of work, whose suggestive innuendoes always made her squirm, feel unclean. He had only one thing on his mind and never missed his chance to make it abundantly clear what he was after.

  She shot a hurried glance at Lucas. He seemed to be studying the dance program. If she didn’t find the courage to ask him now, she could end up at Steve’s mercy for the entire bracket. Hadn’t she come this far, overcome all her personal hurdles by reaching inside herself to do things she wouldn’t normally do? Asking Lucas to dance should be a breeze.

  Sleazy Steve, as some of the women called him, was getting closer, a smug smile on his face.

  Jenna drew in a quick breath and gathered her courage. It was now or never. “Care to dance, Lucas?” she said in a rush of breath.

  He glanced up from the program and right at her. “I have two left feet.”

  Oh no. Now what should I do? Steve was almost upon her. She moistened her bone-dry lips. “I’m willing to risk it if you are.”

  Lucas cocked his arrogant head and, as though he realized something was happening, suddenly got to his feet. “On your own head be it.”

  Thank heavens. Swallowing her pride, Jenna jumped to her feet too, and went ahead of him on to the dance floor just as Steve reached their table.

  “I thought you would’ve asked me to dance?” Steve said, tight-lipped.

  “Sorry. I’m dancing with Lucas.” As she turned, a little smile of feminine triumph accompanied the faux apology.

  Lucas took a step back. “Look, if you’d rather…”

  Jenna flashed her eyes at him and whispered through her teeth, “Don’t even think about it.”

  He flicked his gaze to Steve then back to Jenna, raised his eyebrows a fraction and opened his arms. She sank into them with relief.

  Being in Lucas’ arms brought with it the oddest sensation. He held her protectively, close, but not too close. For the first time in years Jenna felt as though she wasn’t alone in the world, a feeling that had been her close companion for more years than she cared to remember.

  The touch of his hand in the small of her back set her senses reeling and it was all she could do not to lean her body against his. Neither could she keep one arm from snaking around his broad shoulder. Somehow she managed to control the sensation of excitement in her stomach, despite the warm honey flowing through her veins. Goodness, she’d never had such a physical reaction to a man. Her dream tilted a little further.

  He took her other hand in a firm grip. “So, what did you mean yesterday when you said, ‘Today, Los Angeles, tomorrow, the world’?”

  She sighed with relief. At least he was making some attempt at conversation.

  Settling comfortably into his arms, Jenna smiled. “Being accepted on a trial basis into the airline’s secondment program is what brought me to LA.”

  “So what does that mean? In layman’s terms?”

  “That I can be sent anywhere in the world to work for six months at a time. If Claude approves—you know Claude—my trial posting, I’m in.”

  He raised his eyebrows and pulled an interested face. “What exactly does he have to approve?”

  “My knowledge of the job, mainly. My attitude toward the passengers. And my general conduct and behavior go a long way toward approval.”

  Lucas frowned. “It doesn’t bother you that he watches you so closely?”

  “No, I knew the score before I applied. I like to think I can take the scrutiny.”

  “Not many can say that. I hope you’re right.”

  “As long as I know what the choices are then I can make up my own mind. I object to having my choices made for me.”

  “And you choose to meet dukes and earls and movie stars?”

  His sarcasm wasn’t lost on her, even though his eyes glittered with amusement, so she wouldn’t argue the point. Dancing with Lucas, with all his little digs, was better than ending up in Steve’s clutches. “In my job I meet all kinds of people. Even copywriters,” she said, and planted her tongue firmly in her cheek in the hope of lightening the mood.

  One dark eyebrow lifted in a devilish arc as he fought a smile. “Touché.”

  “I make no apology for the choices I make, Lucas. Your sister would probably be in the same boat as me. People like them go with the territory. I’ve worked damned hard to get this far.”

  “Yeah, Bill told me. I applaud you. Here’s hoping Claude gives his approval.”

  “Thank you.” Had her ears deceived her? Was that something like a genuine compliment? Or was it merely lip service?

  The dance came to an end. He let her go and turned to lead the way back to the table, but Jenna saw Steve still hovering there.

  “Um, I haven’t finished with you,” she said after him. Heavens, that was bold.

  He turned back. “Another dance? You’re a glutton for punishment.”

  “This is a bracket of three,” she said, leaving him no doubt she meant to have them all.

  He said nothing more, but took her in his arms again with an inclination of his head. It felt strangely like coming home.

  “So, where do you hope to be posted next?” he asked, as though there had been no break in the conversation.

  She let go a breath with an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, nowhere in particular. Just somewhere glamorous like Monte Carlo. The Caribbean. The Maldives.”

  “Ah, the stomping grounds of millionaires and billionaires. A few princes scattered around, too, I shouldn’t wonder. You’ll be in your element.”

  She should’ve realized she’d set herself up for further sarcasm and decided to change the subject before she trod on his toes accidentally on purpose. “Enough, Lucas.”

 
But something in the tone of his words made Jenna a little uneasy. Was he insinuating she was a gold digger? Great heaven, she’d never considered that possibility before. And now she thought about it, that could be exactly what it seemed like.

  “Sorry,” he said, glancing away. But he didn’t sound in the least apologetic.

  “We’ve talked enough about me. Let’s talk about you.”

  His gaze flicked back to hers. “What about me?”

  “Bill says you don’t go out much?”

  “Sometimes Bill has a big mouth.”

  Effecting an air of nonchalance, she shrugged and looked past him to the other dancers talking and laughing. “Just making conversation.”

  “I’m sure you can find more interesting topics to talk about than me, Miss Blake.”

  Talk about a put down. “Sorry,” she said sarcastically. “I won’t mention it again.”

  “I’d be obliged.”

  Why didn’t he want to talk about himself? What was he trying to hide? She refused to dance in silence, so she tamped down her humiliation and forced herself to smile with what she hoped was something like enthusiasm. “So am I permitted to ask where you’d like to visit? Or is that a state secret, too?”

  Once again his eyes flicked to hers. He opened his mouth as though about to say something sarcastic, then thought better of it. Finally, he said, “I usually go to Greece. My sister keeps an apartment there. It’s mine whenever I want it.”

  That’s more like it. “How wonderful. Whereabouts in Greece?”

  “An island called Poros. Do you know it?”

  She shook her head. “Not that island in particular.”

  One dark eyebrow lifted. “Didn’t expect you would. Not too many billionaires around last time I was there.”

  Billionaires, shmillionaires. He seemed determined to lead this conversation where she didn’t want it to go. Time she nipped this in the bud.

  Jenna summoned her courage. “Are you calling me a gold-digger? Is that how I come across to you?”

  “Of course not. I’m merely pointing out, from what you said yesterday, that—”

  “And what exactly did I say yesterday that gave you that impression?”

  “You mentioned the people you’d met, hob-nobbed with, like they were some kind of trophy.”

  His answer surprised her. “Did I? I didn’t realize.”

  “Sorry if that wasn’t your intention. Hey, two apologies in one night, that’s a record.”

  “Accepted.”

  Nevertheless, the idea made her squirm, but, despite his intended barb, and since Steve was still hovering near the table, Jenna swallowed her pride, deciding to let it pass. After all, he’d said he was sorry. She determined the conversation wouldn’t deteriorate any further. Besides which, despite all the odds, she really did enjoy Lucas’ magnetism, drawn to him like the proverbial moth to the flame, knowing it could destroy her but unable to pull away. She’d better be careful, or she could enjoy his company a little too much for her own good.

  She should’ve suggested they resume their seats, but she didn’t, and dancing continued to the end of the bracket. When it finally ended and Lucas led her back to the table, Steve had gone, his attention having moved on to someone more cooperative.

  “Not too many bruised toes, I trust.”

  She threw him an exaggerated pained expression. “Not many at all.”

  He didn’t acknowledge her joke. He merely grunted something unintelligible and went back to his seat.

  All too soon the evening came to an end. Everyone said their goodbyes and made tracks for home.

  Unable to stop herself, Jenna called out, “Goodnight, Lucas.”

  Somehow he’d heard her above the hubbub and offered a curt response. “‘Night, Miss Blake.”

  Why wouldn’t he call her Jenna?

  He walked toward the exit, but he didn’t look back no matter how much she willed it.

  Well, good. She’d been in danger of making a fool of herself this evening over that man. A man with thick, jet-black hair that fell over his forehead, and sad brown eyes that sometimes surprised her when they glittered.

  A man in whom she had little or no interest.

  She didn’t need another dose of his particular brand of sarcasm flung at her every chance he got. Even though he’d apologized quickly when she tackled him, he had virtually called her a gold-digger. Twice. Heaven knew she was anything but.

  She was merely looking out for herself like everybody else in this crazy world, attempting to put her past behind her, the only way she knew how.

  The best thing she could do for her own peace of mind was to avoid Lucas Nelson from now on.

  Avoid him at all costs.

  Chapter Three

  Lucas stood in the bookshop aisle marked ‘Classics’, browsing the back cover of the volume in his hand, trying to understand the ancient language. It was written in English, just not English as he knew it. He glanced up suddenly and caught his breath when he saw Jenna turn the corner from the aisle marked ‘Romance.’ She was perusing the back cover of a book, and so engrossed in what she was reading she didn’t notice him watching her get closer.

  His gut kicked.

  He hadn’t seen her since the country club’s twentieth anniversary dance two weeks ago, but the effect she had on his body had changed little.

  Back rigid, he waited until she got even closer before he ventured a greeting. “Good morning.”

  She came to a halt, and beamed up at him. Such a lovely, welcoming smile she had. “Oh! Hi, Lucas.”

  “Hello.”

  “Where have you been hiding? I haven’t seen you for a while.”

  She’d noticed?

  He’d landed a high-paying client who’d been so impressed with the work he’d done on investments, he’d offered him more work. Then he’d pulled in an assignment from someone else that needed to be completed ASAP, so he hadn’t had time to go out much, let alone kick up his heels.

  “Been busy.” He closed the book in his hand. “What brings you here?”

  “I can never resist bookshops. I saw this one some time ago and promised myself I’d spend a morning in here when I got the chance. Especially since I leave LA in a few weeks.”

  “A few weeks?” So soon?

  As if it really matters.

  “Yup. Sure do.”

  “Any idea where you go next?”

  “Not a clue. But there’s no rush. I’m perfectly happy with Los Angeles and the friends I’ve made here.”

  Glancing up at the word ‘Romance’ above the aisle she’d just exited, he felt his lips twitch, but managed to keep the threatening smile under control. One dark eyebrow shot up. “So, are you looking for romance?”

  “Not necessarily. I just love books. The feel of them, the smell of them. I love to cruise the aisles of shops like this and let the spirit move me.”

  Not sure that’s what I meant. He inclined his head toward the ‘Romance’ section. “And today the spirit has moved you to...that?”

  Her cheeky grin met his gaze. “Maybe.”

  He rolled his eyes in mock horror. “Don’t understand how you can read such garbage.”

  “You don’t have to.” Her grin widened and she lifted her chin in challenge. “There were a couple of books back there I thought I might enjoy.”

  He balked. “You’d be better off sticking with real life.”

  “Oh really? So what’s that you’re looking at?”

  He handed her the book he held.

  “Lorna Doone? English romantic classic. Hmm, not exactly real life.”

  He straightened and frowned. “Just browsing. I’ve never read any English classics.”

  “When that was first written it would’ve been in the aisle I’ve just come from.” She planted her tongue firmly in her cheek.

  “Is that a fact?” he asked and promptly replaced the book into its rightful gap on the shelf.

  She lifted her chin. “Carry on browsing.”
>
  “I intend to,” he said, just managing to suppress a smile.

  She turned and headed away, then stopped to glance over her shoulder. “Might catch you later then?”

  “Might.”

  He watched her wander slowly away, but her perfume lingered. Hell! He couldn’t shake off how good she’d felt in his arms the night of the dance. Soft. Pliant. Welcoming. He remembered the feeling well. He’d wanted to hold her close against him, kiss her senseless, just as he’d wanted to do just now.

  He should stay the hell out of her way. Especially since she’d just told him she’d be leaving soon.

  ****

  Jenna was enjoying her first full weekend in weeks. She’d been determined to come to this treasure trove of books before going home, but week after week life and work kept getting in the way. Now, of course, she was glad she hadn’t been able to get here before. If she had, Lucas probably wouldn’t have been here.

  Not that it mattered.

  She continued to peruse the colorful aisles. Titles screamed, ‘Buy me’. Authors beckoned, ‘Buy my book’ Latest editions. Histories. Biographies. Travel. Romance.

  Having made her decision on what she wanted to buy, she turned once again into the aisle marked ‘Romance.’

  “You got time for a coffee?”

  On hearing Lucas’ rich golden voice behind her, she lifted her gaze from a back cover blurb and smiled. Inexplicably, her heart raced. “Hi, again.” Despite having told herself she’d avoid him, she wasn’t about to turn down his invitation. They were too rare. “Yes. Yes, I have.”

  He inclined his head at the aisle lined with colorful romance covers. “Thought I’d find you here.”

  “Really? Why?”

  “You weren’t anywhere else.”

  Her breath caught in her throat. “You came looking for me?”

  He squared his shoulders and scowled. “I wasn’t stalking you.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” Her stomach bottomed out at his defensive remark. She tried for something light to say, something inane, but this time nothing came to mind. Judging by the expression on his face, he’d probably take it the wrong way, anyway. “Thank you. I’d love a coffee.”