Lucifer's Lover

by Cooper-Posey, Tracy

  “Why?”

  “Have you ever noticed, people who make you laugh instantly feel safe, warm, acceptable to you? You let them in a lot quicker than anyone else.”

  She frowned. “Yes, I see what you mean, I think.”

  “When you have to make a new set of friends every six months, instant acceptance is as valuable as gold.”

  “Oh…” It was all starting to make terrible, appalling sense to her. Luke’s superficial, easy charm, the constant one-liners, the comedian with the sharp, observant gaze and the obsidian eyes that gave away nothing.

  “Making people laugh has another advantage too,” she said. “As long as people are busy laughing, they can’t learn anything important about you. You hold people away from you Luke, just like I do. Only you use jokes and I…well, I just intimidate them with my intellect, mostly.”

  Abruptly, she heard an echo of her mother’s voice. Don’t blind them with science, sweetheart.

  She mentally shrugged. Too late, Mom.

  Luke’s face sagged a little, his eyes widening. “My god…” he said, his voice low. After a moment, he gave another small, weak smile. “We’re a hell of a pair, aren’t we?”

  “We are indeed,” she whispered, her heart suddenly beating hard. “Stay there.”

  She hurried through to her sitting room and picked up the small wrapped package on the table there and took it back. She held it out to Luke, who was standing again, waiting for her. “Merry Christmas, Luke.”

  He looked a little stunned. “You went shopping this afternoon,” he muttered, almost to himself.

  “Yes, how did you know? Oh, Timothy.” She put her hands behind her back, suddenly nervous. “I hope…you don’t mind, do you? That I bought you a present?”

  He fingered the gilt bow with a gentle touch, like it was a precious piece of china. “No. No, not at all.” He lifted his gaze to her face and smiled but there was a peculiar furrow in his brow, almost like he was in pain.

  He made no move to open it.

  “It’s okay—you don’t have to open it now,” she hurried to assure him, just in case he was in a dilemma about it. An idea occurred to her and she acted on it instantly, before she could change her mind.

  “In fact,” she told him, plucking the package out of his hands, “it’s probably better to leave it right here.” She walked over to the tree and placed it beneath. “Then it’ll be there for you, Christmas Day.”

  “Christmas Day?”

  “I’m inviting you to join us for Christmas, Luke.” She hesitated. “Or do you have other plans? I know it’s very late notice.”

  He turned away from her, with a low curse.

  “What?” All her courage was trickling away at high speed. “Luke, what is it? Am I forcing you into something you’d rather not have to deal with?”

  She could see his profile and the grimace that contorted his face.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t mean to—”

  “It’s nothing you’ve done!” he said, whirling back to face her. “I came here to tell you something…and this is just making it harder still.”

  “Tell me what?” Alarm trickled through her. No, it wasn’t simple alarm. It was fear.

  I don’t want to see you anymore. I don’t like you. It was all a game. I had another side bet with the guys and now I’ve got you into the sack, the bet’s over, so sayonara, sweetheart.

  All of it and more—all the little treacherous whispers her paranoia had produced over the last couple of days—it all filtered through her mind in the small moment she stared at him, feeling that fear.

  She knew where the fear came from.

  Luke must have seen and recognized her fear, for he stepped closer to her and took her face in his hands. “No, no, Lynds, don’t look at me like that,” he begged. “This is hard enough.”

  “Are you here to tell me we’re through?” she asked, barely able to voice the words. She was trembling. He must be able to feel it.

  His thumb caressed her cheek. “Hell, no,” he whispered. “I’m not exactly sure what we are, Lynds but we’re not through. Do you know what you’ve done to my life so far?”

  So great was her relief that she could only shake her head a little. Words had deserted her.

  His hands dropped and he ran one of them through his hair. “It’s like having a tornado rip through your house. You start off hating the tornado and what it has done to your life, the wreckage it leaves behind. But while you’re standing there surveying the wreckage there’s a wild, pure exhilaration in you. That comes from having survived it. That’s before the new excitement kicks in—when you realize that you can start to build your life again, that this time you can build something better, that the tornado has given you a second chance to get it right.”

  He sat on the sofa suddenly, as if all his energy had run out on him. “That’s a really bad analogy.” He shrugged.

  “I’m the tornado?” she whispered.

  “Yeah, well…” Again, the quick nervous push of his fingers through his hair. Then he sighed. “I don’t know if I could ever explain it to you, Lynds. You used to irritate the hell out of me—when you weren’t making me furious instead. Life hasn’t been easy while you’re around. Interesting, yes. Easy, what a joke.” He closed his eyes for a moment.

  “For someone who can barely talk about his feelings, you’re surprising me, Pierse,” she said, deliberately using a light tone, despite her heart beating hard enough to hurt.

  “That’s because I’m procrastinating,” he said bluntly, opening his eyes. “I’m putting this off. Even talking about this stuff is more attractive.”

  “Than what?” she whispered. For someone like Luke, what could possibly be worse?

  He stood up again, with the sudden convulsive movement of someone who was fighting an inner battle and had suddenly come to a decision.

  “Do you remember I said I would destroy your life, Lynds?” he asked and there was a bleak expression in his eyes that suddenly terrified her. Despite his backward declaration of a moment ago, Lindsay’s fears came flooding back.

  “Like a tornado?” she asked.

  “No, not like a goddam tornado,” he said, with an aggressive chop of his hand. “I’m the four horses of the apocalypse. There’s no exhilaration with me. Just death, decay, ruin.”

  “You’re frightening me!”

  “Then tell me to go!”

  “No.”

  “Goddam it, Lynds, I’m not the person you think I am.”

  “No, you’re not,” she shot back. “You’re better than that. You’re better than me in so many ways. It took me weeks to figure this out but I finally did it. You keep pushing happiness away from you, Luke. Happiness and the people who might bring that happiness to you.”

  He rubbed his temple wearily. “Why on earth would I do that?”

  “Because you think you don’t deserve it!” she railed at him. “You’re convinced you’re this no-good son of a bitch who shouldn’t ever get anything good out of life.”

  “That’s crazy.”

  “Yes, it is, isn’t it?” she agreed. “Except that’s what you do and you’re not crazy. You’ve just never let go of the conviction you’re a bad person. Now I know where you got it from. Your father had you convinced you were bad and that’s why the people in your life kept going away.”

  She spread her hands. “You went out of your way to get a date with me. Did you ever stop to wonder why you worked so hard for that date, Luke?”

  He laughed a little. “I like long-legged women.”

  “No. It’s because you were utterly convinced I’d say no. The bet was a safe one too, because there was an odds-on chance you’d lose and you’d be safe that way too. Even if you won and got a date with me…well, I’m the woman who irritates you when I’m not making you angry. What a perfect match for the man who doesn’t deserve anything good.”

  Luke took a deep breath. “Saving me some analyst’s bills, Lynds?”

&
nbsp; She shook her head. “I’m doing this for me,” she said. “Your plan backfired, didn’t it, Luke? I’m not going away as easily as you thought I might and I don’t irritate you as often as you’d like me to.”

  “That’s…” He shook his head. “You make me sound like a monster.”

  “I’m trying to show you that you’re not. I know you’re not. The reason I know that is because I love you.” She took a deep breath, her trembling worsening now that the truth was out.

  Luke buried his head in his hands with a groan and Lindsay sat on the sofa next to him. “You’re a much better person than me, Luke. You’re very clever. You have huge potential. You could find a better person than me if only you’d let yourself. But for what it’s worth, you have my love. If you want it. If you can convince yourself you deserve it and reach out and take it.”

  He reached for her, his mouth searing a brand on her lips in one hot, hard kiss and he rested his forehead against hers, his long fingers curled around her neck. She saw his eyes were closed.

  She kept very still, her lips tingling and her heart trip hammering frantically.

  “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “So sorry.”

  “Why…?” she began but suddenly he was on his feet and striding to the door.

  It wasn’t until she heard the front door slam shut that she realized she still wore his coat.

  Stiffly, she rose and crossed to the French doors to shut them, numbness spreading through her.

  Halfway back to the sofa she felt the ground swaying beneath her, then swing up to collide with her. Then nothing more.

  Chapter Thirteen

  This time, Luke thought, flaying himself with the vicious repeat. This time you have to tell her.

  He pulled the steering wheel around savagely and the car went into a leisurely four wheel drift across the icy road, dropping his heart into his stomach and forcing him to be a bit more gentle on the wheel.

  He had enough to feel sick about. He didn’t have to write off his car into the bargain.

  He crept around the last corner to Lindsay’s place. It was still early and quite dark but he wanted to get there before she left for the office. The last thing he could afford to do was let her reach the office.

  The driveway where she usually parked her big Land Cruiser was empty.

  “Damn.”

  Well, he could always race into the office now and catch her before she saw anyone else who might spill the beans. He swore again under his breath and headed the car back to the downtown area.

  What a mess. What a disaster.

  She loves me.

  The thought kept creeping up on him, catching him by surprise. It would send a hot nugget of warmth through him, before the pleasure was dashed by the chill of what he was about to do to her.

  So just walk away. Leave. Let someone else do it. Get on a plane. Go home.

  But he couldn’t. As much as he longed to get on that plane and fly out of here and away from all his problems, he couldn’t let someone else chop Lindsay’s legs out from under her.

  Not now.

  He parked the car haphazardly and raced through the public foyer, for the elevator. He stuffed his staff card into the security slot and jammed his finger on the key for the administrative floor, then seethed until the elevator cranked its way up to that floor. At this time of day, any other office complex would be deserted and he’d be whisked up to the appropriate floor in a nanosecond. But in a hotel, not long after breakfast, he was battling morning rush hour in the elevator banks.

  He grit his teeth and mentally steamed until he could step off and start striding down the corridor toward the marketing department and slap his hand on Lindsay’s door and thrust it open.

  Lindsay’s office was empty.

  Where the hell was she?

  Luke flipped open the management directory on her desk and dialed her home number.

  “Edward Eden.”

  “Uh…hi…Edward, it’s Luke Pierse. Sorry to call at such an uncivilized hour. I’m looking for Lindsay. Do you know where she is?”

  “I don’t, sorry. She left a bit early—said she had some errands to do.”

  Great. He sighed. “Okay. Thanks. Sorry to bother you.”

  “No bother.”

  Luke hung up and stared out the still dark window. Where was she? And why the hell didn’t she use a cell phone like every other blessed executive in the United States?

  * * * * *

  It was fully light by the time Lindsay reached the hotel and the lobby was very quiet.

  Then she remembered. It was Christmas Eve. Not too many people were touring or on business trips right now, which meant fully sixty percent of their primary clientele was back at home with their families.

  In the rush of extraordinary events this morning, she had forgotten it was the day before Christmas.

  She bumped into Doug Anderson on the office level and he took her hand in a gentle handshake. “Finishing off loose ends?” he asked.

  “Medical appointment,” she said, puzzled.

  He frowned, his hand going limp in hers. “Did Luke catch up with you yesterday?”

  “In the office? No.” She’d gone shopping.

  “Oh.” His hand slipped out of hers and he cleared his throat.

  “What’s up, Doug?”

  He looked at his watch. “I can spare you ten minutes. Would you come to my office, please?”

  “Sure,” Lindsay answered, following him along the corridor. What did Luke have to do with this?

  * * * * *

  Luke arrived back at the office by ten and went straight to Tim. “Is she in?”

  Tim dumped his files on his desk and stood up. “No, and do you want to tell me what’s going on round here? She left Doug’s office looking as white as a sheet and sailed passed me without a word. I haven’t seen her since.”

  Tim grew up next door to Lindsay, Luke reminded himself. His concern was genuine.

  Luke took a deep breath. “If what I think has happened did happen, then Doug let Lindsay go this morning.”

  It took a minute for Tim to process it. “They fired her?” His tone held total disbelief. He looked at Luke and frowned. “And you let them do it?”

  “Tim, what the hell could I do?” Luke asked reasonably, even though his gut gave a guilty jump.

  “You could have defended her. Lindsay’s damn good at her job. She’s just as good as you, even without the two-faced charm.”

  “Thanks,” Luke said dryly. “They’re not firing her for lack of performance.”

  Tim threw his hands out. “Then I don’t get it!” he declared angrily. “Why else would you fire someone?”

  Luke rested his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “If you want the truth, Tim, I think it’s because she’s too good at her job and won’t ever compromise or back down. She threatens the wrong people.” He squeezed a little. “But you’ll hear different, officially and unofficially. Anything else you hear is wrong.”

  Tim stared at him for a long moment and his eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  “Who’s getting Lindsay’s job?” he demanded.

  Luke let his hand drop. “It…hasn’t been decided yet.”

  Tim’s mouth curled up in a sneer. “But they offered it to you.”

  It would be much easier to say no, he knew. He stared at Tim, willing the little word to come out. But something held him back.

  However, his silence gave him away.

  Tim sat in his chair, slowly, like a man wounded. “I thought you were her… I thought you two were…friends.” The look he sent him was loaded with disgust.

  Luke writhed under that expression. The condemnation in it was a touch of days gone by. A quick parade of disapproving relatives flickered through his mind. All the court officials, state and federal authorities he’d ever got into trouble with—all wearing that scowl.

  In days gone by he would have shrugged and dismissed the disapproval. But he couldn’t do it now. Just like he found himself unable t
o lie a moment before. He rested his hand on Tim’s desk.

  “It’s not what you think.”

  “No?” Tim’s expression was sourer than lemon.

  “I’m going to fix this. For Lindsay.”

  “How? You gonna make Doug give her her job back?”

  Tim’s patent disbelief prodded him. “Have faith, dammit!” he told him. “Lindsay does. She’s the last person on this earth I’d let down.”

  Tim stared at him silently for a long time. “All right,” he said at last. He nodded. “Okay.” He frowned. “If she really did get canned, shouldn’t you be going after her?”

  “I am.” Luke pulled his gloves out of his coat.

  * * * * *

  Experience told Luke to try his place first.

  Lindsay was sitting at the tiny table, drinking Perrier, a pensive look on her face.

  “When are you going to get a cell phone?” she demanded as he tossed his keys on the table.

  “For you, I’ll get one this afternoon.”

  “There’s coffee if you want some. I made it.”

  “But you didn’t drink it?”

  She sipped the Perrier water and grimaced. “I thought I’d find out what this stuff is like.”

  “Not to your taste, obviously.” Luke sat on the other chair, which put him more or less eye to eye with her. She was still white, he saw. Pale, despite the light makeup she wore. And she looked tired.

  “I’m sorry,” he said.

  She nodded. “I know.”

  “You can yell at me if you want.”

  When that didn’t get a response from her, he added, “I tried to tell you last night.”

  “I know. I can reconstruct almost all of it now. You came around last night to tell me I was fired. But you couldn’t do it, could you?” She smiled grimly. “I made it hell for you, didn’t I? That untimely confession of love. Christmas trees and presents.”

  “Don’t.” He gripped her hand. “It’s not your fault I chickened out.”