‘I know.’
Luke looked down at her, her back stubbornly turned away. He hated the distance even though he’d been the one to implement it. He felt a sudden urge to explain. ‘My divorce...it was...hard. I can’t go there again.’
‘I’m not asking you to.’
Luke nodded. He knew that. But a part of him couldn’t help wish that she had. ‘Will I see you tomorrow?’
‘I’ll be round,’ she murmured.
He stared at her back, torn between leaving and climbing back into bed with her—consequences be damned. But he’d learned too much from bitter experience to know the perils of disregarding consequences. ‘Goodnight.’
Whether or not she answered he didn’t hear as he walked back to his room and shut the interconnecting door with a soft click.
NINETEEN
‘Are you okay, dear?’ her mother asked as Claudia dashed past the reception desk on her way to the kitchen to check the hors d’oeuvres were on track to be served in half an hour.
‘Fine and dandy,’ she chirped, before disappearing into Tony’s domain.
Lena looked at Gloria. Avery and Jonah looked at each other. They were all poised to join the cocktail party down on the beach. ‘Oh, dear. I see what you mean.’
‘Yup,’ Avery murmured. ‘She’s all fine and dandy again.’
‘And she’s been like that since Luke left?’ Gloria asked.
Jonah, looking resplendent in a tux, grimaced. ‘Oh, yes. Two whole weeks of her fine and dandiness.’
Gloria tutted as she shook her head. ‘My son is an idiot.’
‘Yes,’ Lena agreed tersely. ‘He is.’
Gloria turned distressed eyes onto Jonah. ‘Can you talk some sense into him? He’ll listen to you.’
Jonah shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, Gloria, some things a man just has to figure out for himself.’
‘When was he supposed to arrive?’ Lena asked.
‘Six hours ago,’ Gloria confirmed. ‘His flight was delayed out of Singapore. Which is why I told him he should have booked an earlier flight, that he was cutting it fine if anything happened.’ Disapproval and anxiety laced her voice. ‘I think he should have landed by now though.’
Claudia strode from the kitchen, her red gown fluttering around her ankles, ‘Okay, are we all ready?’ she asked.
‘You guys go ahead. I’ll wait for Luke,’ Gloria said.
‘All right,’ Claudia said, smiling brightly, refusing to let his looming presence upset her equilibrium.
She’d held it together for the last two weeks just fine; she wasn’t going to let his imminent arrival take the gloss off the night they’d all worked so hard towards. Even if she did feel as if she was about to throw up as the nerves in her stomach knotted ever tighter.
Where was he?
She’d been strung tight as a bow all day as the full gamut of emotions had run riot through her body and she wished he’d just get here already. Get the awkward, stilted greetings out of the way so she could enjoy this night she and Avery had been planning for a month.
Instead of waiting for Prince Charming—à la Captain Sexypants—like some lovelorn teenager.
‘Let’s go have some fun,’ she said to the people who meant the most to her in the whole world.
The people who did love her.
Avery, who was looking as ethereally gorgeous as ever in a smoky silver frock, smiled and looped her arm through Claudia’s. ‘Let’s party,’ she said.
* * *
Luke glanced at the dash clock in his rented car. Damn it—he was an hour late. He cursed the state of the roads and the interminable stops for roadworks. He cursed the airline. He cursed the rental company that had mixed up his booking.
It seemed everything had conspired against him getting to the Tropicana Nights on time.
His mother, who was fanatically punctual, would not be impressed. And Claudia? No two ways about it—she’d be really pissed at him.
So what else was new?
His heart beat a little faster at the mere thought of seeing her again, angry or not. He’d thought about her obsessively for two weeks. Reruns of their last night together had played over and over in his head.
He hadn’t missed the tension; he hadn’t missed the temptation. But he had missed her.
God, how he’d missed her!
A decade in the UK and she’d barely crossed his mind. Three months back in Crescent Cove with her and he could barely think of anything else.
He felt as nervous as a teenager on his first date.
He didn’t know what to expect, what he was going to say, how he would feel. How she would feel. He just knew coming back, seeing her again, had been the one bright spot in these last two weeks, getting him through interminably long days at the office, days that he’d once thrived on and had now lost their lustre.
He knew it was just jet lag and readjusting to the crappy London weather and having to wear a suit and tie again instead of boardies and a T-shirt. He’d fallen out of the groove and was having a hard time getting back into it. But he hadn’t been able to explain how scoring the firm’s biggest account to date—an enormous coup—had left him feeling so...underwhelmed.
How working on Jonah’s low-budget ad campaign had been more satisfying and stimulating than the slick multimillion-dollar one that had taken up months of his life.
Coming back to Crescent Cove, with an office that looked out over the mighty Pacific and was less than a minute’s walk to a beach of the finest powdery white sand, had somehow tripped a switch in his brain that refused to be reset.
A few months ago the only powder he’d cared about was the type that covered the ski fields of St Moritz. Now, he found himself yearning for the sun and the surf.
Another road worker with a stop sign loomed ahead and he raked a frustrated hand through his hair, bringing it down to rub at his smooth jaw as he decelerated. It made him think of Claudia. Of the conversation—the naked conversation—he’d had with her about stubble. He’d shaved on the plane. He didn’t know why—years of conditioning, he supposed—but suddenly even that annoyed him.
Shaving twice a day? What the hell for?
The bored-looking road worker stood aside, flipping the sign around and, ignoring the slow sign, Luke accelerated quickly away.
* * *
‘It’s going great, don’t you think?’ Avery said as she threw her arm around Claudia, who was watching everything from the sidelines.
Claudia nodded. ‘It looks amazing!’
And it did. Avery and her vision had transformed the foreshore, where the avenue of palms met the beach, into a fairyland of lights strung through the trees and the nearby foliage.
A jazz band played on a temporary wooden platform that had been erected on the beach. It was large enough for people to dance and some had already taken advantage. The whole atmosphere was magical, the snazzy couples dancing to smooth saxophone notes against the backdrop of a russet ocean sunset were just the icing on the cake.
A roll of red carpet bordered and lit by flaming tiki torches formed a pathway from the foreshore to the spa where guests came and went exclaiming over the wonders of the posh new facility. Another red-carpeted, tiki-lit pathway led to the nearest luxury tent, drawing more appreciative buzz.
With travel agents and influential tourism representatives here both Claudia and Avery were confident they’d be filling the new luxury accommodation before too much longer.
But it wasn’t just the business community who were kicking up their heels. Avery’s brilliant idea to combine the black-tie launch with a fundraiser for the cyclone-ravaged area had ensured that plenty of locals were also out in force. Prizes of prestigious spa and accommodation packages had been offered and the locals of Crescent Cove had glammed up and brought their
wallets.
And all this serenaded by something that no amount of money could buy. The swish of a calm ocean and the kiss of a gentle breeze. The weather had been the one wild card but even it had bowed to Avery’s superior organisational skills. It was a gorgeous, crisp, starry North Queensland winter night. The quarter moon was on the rise, the horizon glowed with orange and pinks and the first stars in the velvety evening dazzled like diamonds.
After the destruction of a few months ago, the weather gods were smiling.
The only thing that was missing was Luke.
‘I wouldn’t have done half as good a job by myself,’ Claudia said, dragging her thoughts back from the one topic that could cast a pall over her entire evening. ‘Your eye for detail is awesome.’
Avery hugged her harder and they both just watched the spectacle for a few moments. ‘Are you sure you’re okay, Claude?’ Avery ventured after a while. ‘You seem really tense. Are you worried about seeing Luke again?’
‘I’m fine,’ Claudia hastily assured, not wanting her focus derailed. The party was here and now and Luke...
Luke was late.
‘And dandy?’
Claudia glanced at her friend. ‘Avery.’
‘Claude, I love you, you’re my best friend. I hate seeing you miserable.’
Claudia frowned—miserable? But she’d been killing herself to be chipper and chatty and chirpy. Just good old Claude. Business as usual. She glanced at Avery, looked into eyes that knew her way too well.
And she couldn’t deal with it now.
‘When does Raoul’s studio perform?’ she asked, looking back to the beach stage as she, not so deftly, changed the subject.
Avery sighed and checked her watch. ‘During the hors d’oeuvres. So...soon.’
‘Good,’ she said. ‘I’m starving.’
Even though she knew food was never going to sit well inside her squalling belly.
* * *
Luke followed his mother and the jazzy music towards the beach, straightening the bow tie his mother had hastily thrown together for him. The urge to stop in and see the finished spa and the accommodation was strong but he was already late enough. He pulled up short when he entered the clearing on the foreshore.
‘Wow,’ he said as myriad fairy lights dazzled his eyes and the party atmosphere instantly embraced him.
‘It’s spectacular, isn’t it?’ His mother beamed.
‘Amazing,’ he agreed.
‘Claude and Avery have worked so hard,’ she said.
Luke nodded. He’d not been involved in too much of the launch preparations, knowing it was in good hands with Avery. But this...this was utterly breathtaking.
His gaze roamed the classy crowd as his mother chatted about the set-up and the number of local dignitaries that were attending. Luke couldn’t give a rat’s arse that the state minister for tourism was here—he only cared about one person.
One woman.
A procession of waiters filed past him carrying trays laden with finger food, the aromas of garlic and basil lingering in their wake. They dispersed throughout the guests offering a range of gastronomic delights. Jonah spotted him and strode over to greet him, bringing somebody with him.
‘You don’t scrub up so bad, old friend.’ Luke grinned, shaking Jonah’s hand after he’d been introduced to the local tourism council chair.
He shrugged. ‘Avery likes me in a tux.’
Luke felt a pang in his chest at the goofy smile Jonah had plastered to his face. As if he already knew how lucky he was going to get later.
The three of them made small talk about the resort and the long-term recovery of the area as the waiters came around and entertainment took to the stage but Luke was too distracted to eat or be entertained. Too distracted for local politics as he surreptitiously searched the crowd for one particular person. He finally spotted her standing to one side with Avery and, damn, if she wasn’t wearing that dress.
Everything lurched inside him.
For some reason he’d expected to see her in her usual travesty of polyester—ridiculous really, given that they were both at a black-tie cocktail party. Not that it would have mattered had she been in her uniform. She looked equally good in both, not to mention the fact that he’d helped her out of both in varying degrees of urgency.
She had her hair swept up as it had been that night in Cairns, a frangipani tucked behind her ear.
Do not think about that night in Cairns.
But it was hard not to. There wasn’t one part of him that didn’t rejoice in seeing her. That didn’t want to wrap her up in his arms. That didn’t want to drag her away from this party and have his wicked way with her.
Two weeks had felt like two decades and he was gripped by a fierce yearning to be deep inside her again.
Relief flowed through him at his strong physical reaction. He’d been confused by his feelings, unsure of how he felt about somebody he shouldn’t be feeling those kinds of things for. Somebody who didn’t want to feel them either. But sex he understood. Sex he could pigeonhole. Sex was biology and natural urges.
It wasn’t emotional; it was physical.
He’d been lusting after her. And that was an easy fix.
He was just about to stop making polite conversation and excuse himself when a familiar guy in a tuxedo approached Claudia.
Raoul.
A surge of pure possession filled him as Raoul said something to her and both she and Avery laughed.
His heart thudded in his chest as the Spanish charmer flirted easily. Suddenly Luke wasn’t feeling so sure of himself.
Suddenly this was a whole new ballgame. Biology, natural urges, lust—they all felt frivolous.
What he was feeling now, watching Raoul with Claudia, was much more primal.
Much deeper. Much more profound.
He watched as Raoul took Claudia’s hand and led her to the dance floor and he had to suppress a roar of outrage that rose in his chest.
No!
It was like Cairns all over again. Except a thousand times worse because Claudia was the woman he loved—yes, he loved her!—and he wasn’t into sharing.
‘Excuse me,’ he said, interrupting the conversation he hadn’t really been listening to anyway. ‘I’m sorry,’ he apologised. ‘There’s somebody I really have to see.’
Jonah glanced across to where Luke was looking and nodded. He held out his hand and shook Luke’s. ‘Go get her, man.’
Unfortunately Luke was waylaid a couple of times but he managed to get to the stage just as the song was ending.
Perfect timing.
‘Claude.’
Claudia stilled in the circle of Raoul’s arms as a very familiar accent turned her legs to jelly. She leaned in to Raoul for a moment for support and, bless him, he ignored the thunder on Luke’s face and let her.
‘Mi querida. Are you okay?’
Claudia nodded as she pulled away from him. ‘Thanks, Raoul. I’m fine.’
For a moment Claudia thought Raoul was going to challenge Luke, but she gave his arm a squeeze. ‘I’ll see you later,’ she said.
Raoul, ever the gentleman, bowed slightly and took his leave. Claudia watched him weave through the dancers, collecting herself for a moment before turning to face Luke.
Luke in a tux.
Her stomach dropped at the mere sight of him, her heart rattling along like the lid on a steaming kettle. But she was determined to play it cool.
‘You made it,’ she said as he held out his arms and she slid into a polite waltz stance and started moving, careful to keep her distance, hoping he couldn’t feel the flutter of her pulse at her wrist. ‘I thought you must have changed your mind.’
She felt him tense for a moment. ‘I said I would be here. I’m here.’
‘Why, Luke?’
Claudia was proud of the steadiness of her voice, considering she wanted to stamp her foot and beat her hands against his chest like a spoilt princess or a toddler having a tantrum.
‘What’s the point when you’re just going to turn around and go back to London? It’s a long way to come for three lousy days.’
It had been two weeks since Luke had wanted to shake her but only a minute back in her company and the urge returned with a vengeance. ‘Because I love you, you irritating woman,’ he said, then promptly dipped her and pashed her in front of everyone.
TWENTY
Despite her shock, it didn’t take Claudia’s heart—or hormones—long to betray her. Her senses filled up with him and she clung to his lapels, kissing him back, two weeks of sexual frustration bubbling up inside her.
It wasn’t until the racket of applause finally penetrated their passionate bubble that sense returned and Claudia pushed against his chest, struggling for release. He yanked her up and let her go to more applause from the crowd.
She smiled awkwardly for a moment, then glared at him before muttering, ‘Follow me.’
She marched ahead, furious with him and herself. She kicked her stilettos off as she hit the beach, leaving them where they were as she gathered the hem of her dress and made a beeline for the shoreline, conscious of him following more sedately behind.
‘How dare you?’ she said, turning on him when she was close enough to the water to drown him in it should the urge take over.
Luke held up his hands. ‘Claude.’
‘Don’t you Claude me,’ she snapped. ‘Don’t you come here acting all he-man. All...’ she took in his particular brand of delicious in his tuxedo and nearly swooned at his feet ‘...Captain Sexypants and act like a Neanderthal and expect me to drop at your feet.’
Captain Sexypants? ‘Okay.’
‘And don’t you okay me either,’ she seethed, completely oblivious to the romance of the stars overhead and the lapping waves. ‘You expect me to believe that you suddenly love me? That this isn’t about you being a horny, jealous, possessive jerk?’
Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle Page 17