Burning Up

by Sarah Mayberry

  He could feel Sophie’s body trembling with fear beneath his, and he gripped her tight, trying to reassure her wordlessly. If anything were to happen to her…He didn’t want to think about a world without Sophie in it.

  Somehow her hand found his, and they gripped each other in terror as the fire roared around them. His back stung from the heat, and he pressed his face closer to Sophie’s nape, concentrating on her smell, on the feel of her beneath him, on how precious and generous and funny she was.

  That was when it hit him, with more force than a thousand bushfires. He loved her. Despite all attempts to keep her at arm’s length, despite his lifelong mistrust of love and all it entailed, he’d fallen in love with Sophie Gallagher.

  He was still reeling from the realization when the heat eased and the roar of the fire died. All in all, the front had taken less than a minute to pass, but they had been the most profound sixty seconds of Lucas’s life.

  He clenched his fingers into the fabric of Sophie’s jeans as he thought about how close he’d come to losing her. If she’d been caught out alone, changing her tire…If he’d kept driving and not turned around…

  He wanted to protect her with every fiber of his being. He wanted to wrap her tight and never let her go again. He loved her. Against every self-protective instinct he had, he loved her.

  “I think it’s passed,” she said, her voice muffled.

  She wriggled, indicating she wanted him to let her go, and Lucas forced himself to unclench his fingers and roll away from her. The tarmac was hot from the fire and he winced and quickly sat upright, coughing in the still-thick smoke.

  “We should go, in case the wind changes again,” Sophie said.

  She kept her face down, and he used a finger to tip her chin up so he could see her expression.

  “Are you okay?” he asked.

  She grimaced and held out a hand to show him it was trembling.

  “Apart from seeing my life flash before my eyes, sure.”

  “Come on.”

  He grabbed the wombat box and they crossed to the Porsche. It had survived the fire intact, give or take a little blistered paint. Sophie slid into the passenger seat and he passed her the box before getting behind the wheel.

  He drove more cautiously, remembering the kangaroo’s headlong rush from the bush. The last thing they needed was a close encounter with a hundred-and-fifty-pound ’roo. All the while, his thoughts churned over and over, circling around the profound revelation the fire had brought him.

  Unfamiliar words choked his throat, but he held on to them until they’d cleared the police block and made it to the lowlands, well beyond the reach of the fires.

  His gut tight with apprehension, Lucas pulled over onto the side of the road at the first rest stop he found. Cutting the engine, he turned to face Sophie.

  She stared at him, eyebrows raised, one hand resting protectively on the wombat’s furry body.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked.

  He swallowed and said the words he’d always promised himself he never would.

  “Sophie, I love you.”

  17

  LUCAS’S WORDS SEEMED to echo around the interior of the car. Sophie stared at him, noting the way he gripped the steering wheel as though his life depended on it, and the frantic, giveaway pulse beating at the base of his neck.

  He’s terrified, she realized. Absolutely terrified.

  “You love me,” she repeated slowly, not quite ready to let herself believe it yet. It was what she wanted to hear, more than anything. But he looked as though he was about to face a firing squad.

  “When I thought you were trapped back there…When the fire front came through…All I could think of was protecting you. And how much you mean to me,” he said.

  His grip on the steering wheel was white-knuckled now. Sophie frowned, keeping a tight rein on the hope blooming in her heart. This wasn’t exactly the declaration of an open and loving man. But she already knew that about Lucas, didn’t she? That intimacy and love were difficult things for him.

  “You know how I feel about you,” she said quietly.

  He nodded. “Yes. Which kind of leaves us in an interesting position.”

  “Does it?” she asked carefully. “How so?”

  All she wanted him to do was kiss her. Kiss her and hold her and look into her eyes and tell her he loved her as though it was something to celebrate.

  “We need to work out what happens next. How this might pan out,” he said.

  She frowned, not understanding. “We spend time with each other. We enjoy each other. We build on the love we both feel,” she said.

  “Sure. Okay. I guess what I’m thinking is that I move around a lot. It’s going to be hard to make this work.”

  “We’re resourceful. We can find a way,” she said.

  Why wasn’t he just kissing her, for Pete’s sake? Why were they even having this conversation?

  “I guess you could travel with me, but I don’t want to drag you away from your life. It’ll make it harder afterward.”

  Sophie narrowed her eyes. “After what?”

  He shrugged, avoiding her gaze.

  Suddenly she got it.

  “You mean after it’s over, don’t you? After we break up?” she asked.

  “Yeah. I guess.”

  The hope in her heart shriveled before it had a chance to fully flower. She’d thought that hearing Lucas say the words would be enough, knowing that he was willing to risk loving her and all that that entailed. But how could they have a relationship when he was already looking toward an end date? What kind of a foundation was that for them to build on?

  She stared at him, her gaze traveling over his beautiful features. Did he really think he was that unlovable? Had his childhood damaged him so deeply, so irreparably that he could never truly trust another person with his vulnerability?

  She wanted to reach out and hold him and reassure him with everything in her that she loved him and she wasn’t going anywhere. She wanted to move heaven and earth to convey the depth of her feeling for him. But she knew in her heart of hearts that it would never be enough—not if Lucas couldn’t come to terms with his past.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head.

  “No, what?” he asked.

  “No, we’re not doing this. We’re not going into some kind of half-assed, grudging, reluctant relationship based on fear and the anticipation of failure,” she said firmly.

  He stared at her. “That’s not what I was suggesting,” he said stiffly.

  “Yeah, it was. You think we’re going to fail before we’ve even started. You don’t even want to love me, do you? You love me despite yourself. Admit it to yourself, even if you won’t admit it to me,” she said.

  She felt very calm, very sure all of a sudden. She’d wasted years of her life with Brandon for the wrong reasons. She could try to make things work with Lucas, try to outlast his uncertainty and caution. But she deserved better. And, at the end of the day, so did Lucas.

  If they were ever going to have a future, he needed to understand his past. She turned to face him fully, twisting awkwardly with the wombat box in her lap. Capturing both his hands, she held them in her own.

  “If we’re going to do this, Lucas, you need to deal with your childhood,” she said bluntly. “I don’t know what form that might take—talking to someone, talking to me, whatever. But you can’t keep squashing it into a corner and pretending it’s not there anymore.”

  His expression darkened and he shook his head automatically.

  “Will you let all that stuff go, Sophie? It was shitty, but it’s over. I’ve moved on. I want to move on with you,” he said, his voice growing in confidence as he talked himself into it.

  Sophie took a deep breath and took the gamble of her life.

  “I can’t be with you if you won’t deal with this, Lucas. It’s no way to start a life together.”

  He flinched, his frown deepening. “Is that—Is that an ultimatum?”
he asked her incredulously.

  She stared at him, then slowly nodded. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

  They stared at each other in silence. She could see the anger in him, the frustration he felt at having risked enough to declare himself to her, only to have her set the bar even higher. Almost, she relented—but she knew that his past would haunt them forever unless he dealt with it.

  Without saying a word, he started the car again and pulled back out into traffic. Sophie’s stomach danced with nerves as she waited for him to say something, say anything. Surely she hadn’t misjudged him? He’d been willing to acknowledge his love, surely he would be prepared to acknowledge his past if she was standing by his side, helping him every step of the way?

  He waited a full ten minutes, and when he spoke it was calm and measured.

  “I love you. I want to be with you. Why isn’t that enough?” he said.

  If he’d said the exact same thing to her last night, she would have thrown herself into his arms. But she knew what she was up against now. She’d seen the depths of his fear when he’d used Derek and Camilla to push her away.

  “If it’s not a problem, talking about it shouldn’t be a big deal,” she pointed out quietly.

  “It’s not up for grabs,” he said, his tone clipped, no-nonsense.

  She stared at his profile. She felt sick about what she was about to say, but she had to stick to her guns. She knew she would be letting him down if she didn’t.

  “Then you know my answer.”

  His jaw tensed, and the car picked up speed. For the remaining half hour of the drive to her apartment, neither of them said a word. A dozen times Sophie opened her mouth to retract her challenge. But each time she bit her tongue. She wanted all of him, not the small portion of himself that he was willing to risk. Maybe that made her greedy, even stupid, to risk so much, but she wanted him to love her as openly as she loved him. And if the past hour had taught her anything, it was that he was nowhere near ready to do that. But she hadn’t given up hope yet.

  Parking out in front of her apartment, he carried the wombat up the stairs for her. She took it from him in the hallway and slid it inside her open door, then turned to face him.

  “I love you so much, Lucas. Please try for us,” she said.

  His face creased with confusion, and she caught a flash of fear in his eyes. “Then why are you making this harder than it needs to be?”

  “Because I want to set you free of that nightmare,” she said. “Can’t you understand that?”

  He stared at her, his jaw clenched. She stood on tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips. His hands came up and cupped her face as he deepened the kiss, his tongue stroking hers, his body moving closer, seeking comfort and heat.

  He nudged a knee between hers, one hand sliding onto her butt to encourage her into close contact with his thigh. The other hand slid up her ribs and found her breasts. The familiar need built inside her, but she forced herself to slide her hands between them and push him away. She knew exactly how charming he was, and how susceptible she was to that charm. She needed to stay strong.

  “Think about it. Don’t give me your answer now,” she said, taking a step away from him.

  “My answer’s not going to change, Sophie,” he said, and she heard the finality in his voice.

  She stared at him for a long, long beat. This was her moment of choice, then—take what he was offering, or walk away. She loved him so much, it was tempting to take the crumbs from his table. But she knew she would wind up so wounded, so hurt at the end of the day. The pain she felt now would be nothing compared to how she’d feel when she was forced to walk away from him in six months, a year, two years because Lucas was too closed off to invest in their relationship.

  “Then I guess this is goodbye.”

  He looked shocked for a second. Then a shuttered expression slid over his face and she lost all sight of his emotions.

  Without saying another word, he turned on his heel and left.

  She stared after him, even took a step to chase him. But she stopped before she’d really started, tears welling in her eyes as she registered that she may have just made the biggest mistake of her life.

  LUCAS WENT HOME to his stark, white house and went straight into the gym. Ignoring his doctor’s instructions to take it easy on his newly healed knee and ankle, he pulled on a pair of workout pants and trainers and hit the treadmill.

  He ran, his feet pounding the track, his body falling into a familiar rhythm despite the long break in his training.

  He wasn’t prepared to give up on Sophie. He hadn’t waited thirty-five years to fall in love for the first time, only to walk away at the last hurdle. She had a bee in her bonnet over his nightmares, but he knew from experience that they would pass. He just had to wait them out, and they’d fade away. He was confident that if he could show her that, convince her of it, then they could take up where they’d left off.

  Slowly a plan formed in his mind as his muscles warmed and his body loosened.

  Sophie loved him. And he’d already charmed her into bed once. He could do it again—hell, everything was in his favor, after all. And once he had her naked, he’d make sure she never walked away again.

  By the time he’d burned up an hour on the treadmill, his churning thoughts had settled into ordered determination.

  The next morning he sent her flowers and a case of French champagne. He waited till the end of the day to follow up with a phone call.

  “Come to dinner with me,” he said.

  “What are we going to talk about?” she asked.

  He frowned. “Sophie…”

  “Then my answer is no.” And she hung up on him.

  The next day he sent chocolates and a box of organic fruit and vegetables, then turned up in person to seduce her into coming out on a date. She answered the door wearing a pair of purple flannel pyjamas with monkeys on them and a floppy sweatshirt, and he got hard on the spot.

  “Come out with me,” he said, leaning one hand on the doorframe and eyeing her beautiful breasts hungrily.

  “As soon as we talk about your parents.”

  He growled and straightened, throwing his hands in the air in frustration.

  “I have no memory of them,” he said. “I was made a ward of the state when I was four years old. They mean nothing to me.”

  “I wish that were true,” she said, and she shut the door in his face.

  He stared at the bright red wood and kicked it, hard. “Sophie!”

  She didn’t answer, and he was forced to walk away.

  He tried silence for a few days before following up with another visit to her doorstep. When she didn’t respond to his knocks, he charmed her neighbor into revealing Sophie had gone to stay with her parents.

  Effectively removing herself from his sphere of influence. When he returned to his place, Derek was waiting for him, a glass of Lucas’s best scotch in hand.

  “I’ve got next week’s shooting schedule for you,” Derek said. “And there’s a new three-picture offer on the table for you with Paramount. It’s a nice price. I think you’ll be happy.”

  “Look, can we talk about this later?” Lucas said, running a hand through his hair. Derek was the last person he wanted to see right now.

  Derek tossed back some of the scotch. “They’re giving you director and producer approval, although I had to fight for the last one. You can also develop your own projects, if you want.”

  “Derek. Not now,” Lucas warned.

  Derek’s expression turned pissy. “If not now, when? You’ve been zoned out ever since you got back, and I’ve been holding these guys off for weeks already.”

  “I don’t care,” Lucas said.

  “You don’t care. Since when did you not care about your career?” Derek asked, incredulous.

  Lucas crossed to the bar and poured himself a drink. Derek snorted as though he’d just worked something out.

  “Please tell me this is not about the quirky little re
dhead,” his manager asked. “Please tell me that’s not why your head is up your ass at the moment, Lucas.”

  Lucas shot him a dark look and took a pull from his drink.

  “You’re freakin’ kidding me,” Derek said, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ve lost it over the chef. This is priceless.”

  “I really don’t want to get into it,” Lucas warned him.

  “Buddy, you’ll get over her, don’t worry. Let me call Keira or Camilla up. Hell, let me call them both. Once you’ve exorcised the ghost, so to speak, things will be back to normal.”

  Derek was already reaching for his mobile. Lucas studied him. He’d already acknowledged that he didn’t like this man. So why on earth was he paying him large sums of money every year?

  Not a single good reason leaped to mind.

  “Derek?”

  The other man looked up, finger poised over the call button on his phone.

  “You’re fired,” Lucas said.

  Derek’s eyes bugged for a second. “What?”

  “You heard me. I’ll pay out your contract, or whatever we have that binds us together. You’ll get your cut of any deals you’ve brokered. But I don’t want you in my life anymore.”

  Derek’s face flushed a dull red. “What about our relationship? All the years I’ve put in for you?”

  “You’re a rich guy. Throw a party,” Lucas said, crossing to the front door.

  Flinging it open, he waited for Derek to leave.

  “You’ll regret this,” Derek said.

  Lucas just eyed him silently, and Derek slid his glass onto the nearest flat surface and strode toward the door.

  “Wait a minute,” Lucas said as Derek was almost out of range.

  Derek turned around, a look of intense satisfaction on his face. Clearly he thought Lucas had had second thoughts.

  “Your house key, please,” Lucas said, holding out his hand.

  Derek’s expression soured abruptly. Pulling a key ring from his pocket, he slid off a number of keys and threw them onto the pathway between them.

  “Go screw yourself, Grant,” he said.

  Then he was gone.

  Collecting his keys, Lucas went inside and set himself to the task of finding Sophie’s parents’ phone number. Eventually he tracked it down via Julie Jenkins, who’d bullied it from a reluctant Brandon.