Before I could stop myself, my hand flew to his hair, and I brushed the dark strands off his forehead. He closed his eyes and sighed, his neck craning over the couch as his shoulders sagged. “I’m worried about my father. He will get the wrong idea from those photos because I used to get into fights at football matches.”
That poised, dignified Luke would do something so pedestrian made me want to laugh. The two images clashed horribly. It made little sense. It was like seeing the Queen of England throwing back a pint at a dive bar.
“Maybe you should call him now and explain it all before it’s in the papers.”
Luke made a dissenting sound. “It’ll just make it worse if I bring attention to it.” His eyes opened and blazed with intensity. “I don’t have to explain myself to him.”
Luke sighed as I stroked his hair, dragging my fingertips across his scalp.
"I'm going to take it off for a few minutes." I set the ice pack on the coffee table and smiled at Luke's grumpy expression. My hair fell like a curtain between our faces as I gave him a kiss on his frozen cheek. His skin was so cold it burned my lips. The blue eyes watched me as I leaned back and resumed my stroking of his hair.
“Why are you doing this?” His voice was as chilly as his skin.
“You know, not everyone has an ulterior motive revolving around screwing you over.”
“Not in my world.” He shook his head. “It's rare for someone to approach me without expecting something in return.”
A dull longing throbbed inside my chest. I would never take advantage of you. “You don’t give people a chance.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Luke, the first night we met you shoved an NDA in my face.”
He looked bewildered. “So?”
“If you do that with everyone you meet, you will never trust anyone. Sometimes, you have to take a risk to get what you want.” I spoke more about myself than him. My cheeks heated as Luke gave me a shrewd look. “I was always afraid of men. Well, ever since my childhood. Being alone with men made me panic, so I didn't date. I never had boyfriends. I avoided the whole thing, even though a part of me was desperately lonely. It wasn’t reasonable.” I looked at him. “Just like it’s not sensible to make everyone you know sign an NDA.”
He sighed and waved me off. “For all I know, this is part of your con.”
“You’re the one who interviewed my foster parents,” I said in a shaking voice. “I’m not lying about that. I’ve had a lot of bad experiences, Luke. They warped my perception of people, just like yours have. A part of me knows that they ruined me.”
Heat flushed under my skin, and my hand fell from Luke's neck to clench into a fist at my side. I hated what they had done.
His thigh bumped against my leg as he slid closer and rubbed my back. “They didn’t ruin you, Jess.”
“How would you know?”
“Because I spent the whole day with you, didn’t I? You’re funny, low-maintenance, and easy to get along with. Not to mention gorgeous.”
The grittiness in his voice curled between my legs. Gorgeous.
“You kept kissing me at every opportunity.”
I turned my head, feeling Luke’s hot breath on my cheek. “That’s my job.”
“I wasn’t supposed to want you while we’re alone.”
The lines are fucking blurred.
“Do you want me to stop?”
I didn’t want to stop touching him, or for the warmth on my back to disappear. I looked at him. He seized my head, almost forcing his lips over mine. I fell backward onto the couch and gasped as his heavy weight fell over me. I registered nothing but shock.
Holy crap, what’s happening?
My heart pounded somewhere in my throat. All I could focus on was the sharp contours of Luke’s body over mine, his mouth devouring every inch of my flesh as he kissed a hot trail down my neck.
I heard myself murmur a small oath as his lips and tongue brushed hotly over the top of my breast. A small moan ripped through me as he teased the delicate flesh, sending sharp, electrical signals down my spine. I marveled at how strong the response was in my body; it was jarring. My fingers tangled in his dark head, roaming up and down his lean back.
He let out a small moan as he pulled back, teasing the buttons of my blouse out of their holes one by one. “God, you are incredible.”
I said nothing. I couldn’t speak—I was confused. Desire and fear were mingling together in a whirlwind of emotion, crashing against my ribcage like an animal clawing to get out.
I want him, but am I ready for this?
An impatient voice inside me told me to shut the hell up.
His face had that drowsy look, infused with lust. I sat up and allowed my shirt to roll off my shoulders. Every sound was amplified as it dropped to the ground with a harsh whisper. I felt the bulge of his cock vivid against my thigh. The roar of my blood pounding in my ears was deafening. I wanted his hands all over my naked flesh. My imagination took his hands moving inside the waistband of my jeans and forced them to curve into my wetness. My stomach trembled. Oh God, I wanted this. My legs moved on either side of his waist.
He groaned and leaned forward, his lips kissing at my breast and his fingers scraping my shoulders, the thin bra straps falling down my arms. With every kiss, I was being healed. It was as though Luke was reaching inside my core and mending my pieces back together.
Why did I wait this long? This feels so good.
“Dammit,” he hissed as pulled back from me as though he burned. “This isn’t right.”
It was like falling into an ice bath, and the euphoric feeling dissipated like gas. "What?"
His face was hot and bothered, his lips still swollen. He held me in his hands and stroked my cheek. “I really want to, Jessica. But it’s not right. You’re an employee.”
“To hell with that! I want this, too.”
He shook his head and moved away from me. I think he wanted to distance himself as much as possible.
He leaped up from the couch, terrified by how close he had come to losing control. Luke dashed out of sight, and I was left with the searing heat of his hands all over my flesh, slowly fading away.
LUKE PARDINI CAUGHT IN FOOTBALL MATCH BRAWL
Under the bold headline was a rather impressive photo of Luke clocking the West Ham supporter with a terrific right hook.
Years of boozing finally seems to be catching up to young Luke Pardini, as he was caught fighting a West Ham supporter earlier today at Boleyn Ground.
Not wanting to read anymore, I set down Brandon's smart phone. Luke leaned back in his chair and his cheeks filled with air, looking like he was past caring about anything at all. A small bruise bloomed on his cheek, but I covered most of the damage using my makeup.
I didn’t forget about what happened earlier. I could barely pay attention to the conversation; my mind kept obsessing over how amazing Luke’s tongue was like dancing on my skin and how close we had come toward steamy sex. I felt my chest burn in the same area where his lips had touched my breast. I clenched my fists under the table.
Luke gave no impression he was thinking of the same thing. He raised an eyebrow at me.
“Whatever happens, happens,” he said as the server set down three dripping mugs of cider in front of us.
“Cheers,” Brandon said to the waiter. He swiveled his concerned gaze to Luke, who picked up his mug and gulped it down.
I looked down at the golden liquid and took a sip. It was crisp and light, like apple juice but not as sweet, with a slight kick of alcohol.
This will go great with the pie.
We were in a tavern in London that made great savory pies. This was one of Luke’s favorite spots to eat in London, and that Brandon was on a mission to cheer him up.
It’s time to change tack. “How did you two become friends?”
A slow smile spread across Brandon's face. "Well, we went to the same boarding school. We were in the same year, and both of us had an
affinity for Pokémon cards. We used to play all the time."
I snorted into my cider, and even Luke smiled apologetically. "That's so weird. I did the same thing with my best friend, Natalie. We didn't have the cards, though. We played on our Gameboys."
“There was also Dungeons and Dragons.”
This time, I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. “Oh my God. That’s so nerdy.” I gave Luke a playful swat on his leg. “This is the juicy gossip I would expect on a tabloid. It’s a lot more shocking than reading about you punching out someone. Dungeons and Dragons!”
He gave me a thin smile and zeroed in on me. “How did you both meet?”
My insides froze as I tried not to glance at Luke. Well, shit. We had never come up with a rehearsed plan, and my brain worked, trying to think of a quick, believable lie. Fuck!
“It was a support group,” I blurted.
A stunned silence followed my words, and my face radiated heat.
Oh, God. Why did I say that?
I clutched Luke’s hand under the table and winced at the force of his fingers wrapped around my palm. I hoped that my utter fear would be seen as humiliation from admitting something so private. Luke will kill me.
Brandon was a gentleman to his core. If he felt any stunned disbelief, he kept it to himself. Nothing showed on his face except mild interest. "That's really, well—"
“Yeah,” I said too quickly. “We talked, and we realized that we had so much in common.” I gave Luke a quick glance. He wore an expression appropriate to being clubbed over the head. “I’m sorry, baby. I know you like to keep these things private, but I figured that since Brandon was an old friend, it would be fine.”
“It's okay,” he said in a voice that implied otherwise.
I grimaced at Brandon, who almost looked sorry for me. “I don’t know what to tell people when they ask, you know? I’m a normal person from the Bay Area. Lots of people look at me and him and they don’t really get it.”
Luke stood up, and my hand slipped from his grasp. He gave me one look of extreme disapproval before announcing that he was going to the loo.
"Oh, shit," I whispered as Luke stormed from the table. "He'll be so mad at me."
Brandon patted me on the back, but when I looked up, his face was full of sympathy for me. The pain twisting my guts loosened.
“Luke’s a private person, but I’m glad he’s going to this support group with you. He needs it. Don’t tell him I said that,” he added.
“No, of course not.” Guilt squirmed inside me. Even his friends could see how his father was tormenting him.
“He’s always been my best mate, but he’s never been very happy. It’s hard when you have a dad like his.”
I wasn’t sure if I should be talking to Brandon like this, but I couldn’t resist. “Maybe it runs in the family,” I said, thinking of his mother’s suicide.
He shrugged. “I’m just glad he has someone who has gone through the same thing. By the way, I’m sorry if I came off standoffish when we first met. The girls he usually dates are only with him for the money, but you’re not like any of the ones he’s been with.”
The guilty feeling in my stomach doubled, and I half-heartedly returned his beaming smile.
I am with him for the money—sort of.
I didn’t like lying to him, and I battled an overwhelming urge to confess and tell him the whole truth. My fingers moved around the glass mug. Luke would be upset. I stamped down on my impulse and looked down. For the first time, I felt guilty about this whole arrangement. How many people would I have to lie to? I hoped that they weren’t as nice as Brandon.
“What’s his father like?”
"I've only seen him a few times. He seemed polite. Maybe cold. That's normal, though. I know everything about him through what Luke has told me, and he has told me some terrible things. It's not just him. It's the cousins and his uncle. They all want a piece of Luke's inheritance, and they'll do anything to get it."
My fingers were white around the handle of the mug. “Can’t he get power of attorney over his father?”
Brandon shook his head.
What a mess, I thought. Part of me wondered whether it would be such a horrible thing if Luke’s father wrote him out of his will. Sure, he’d lose his inheritance, but didn’t he have a great deal of money in his bank account already? Didn’t he have millions of dollars worth of property? How many millions does one need, anyways? At least he’d be out of his father’s influence for good, and he would never have to stress about his family trying to usurp his inheritance.
“Would it be the worst thing in the world if he lost it? Wouldn’t it be good to be out of his father’s hair once and for all?”
He stared at me with a shocked expression as if I had suggested that we boil Luke’s head. “What—give up his legacy? Are you mad?”
I shrugged. “It’s just—I would be happy with a million dollars. Why does anyone need that much money?”
“It’s not about the money.”
Bullshit. I rolled my eyes at him. “It’s totally about the money. Look, I understand. Losing that kind of money would make anyone crazy.”
“It’s his inheritance. He deserves it. He’s earned it. It might go to people who don’t deserve it, who aren’t even affiliated with the company at all.”
Despite his assurances to the opposite, I still didn't think Luke would be as motivated if his inheritance were a few thousand dollars. How does one earn five billion dollars? You can’t. Mr. Pardini could do whatever he wanted with his money. Still, it was an asshole move to shove your only son out, especially when he had worked so hard his whole life for his father’s approval.
Hell, who am I kidding? He deserves it. Luke toiled his whole life expecting to take his father’s mantle. To have it ripped out of his hands when this line of work was the only one he knew would be downright cruel.
At that moment, Luke rejoined us at the table, and I was tight-lipped, avoiding his gaze. The waitress brought us three steaming pies surrounded by mashed potatoes and a moat of gravy, and I soon forgot everything I worried about. Brandon laughed at me as I sighed in ecstasy with each bite. The steak and ale pie was dripping with decadence; the meat was slow-cooked for hours so it fell apart and melted in my mouth. The gravy mingling with the mustard seed potatoes was delicious, and I devoured it, burning my tongue. After we had finished, we sat for a while and enjoyed the peace of a warm, full belly. Brandon patted his stomach and stood up to leave.
“I should get going.”
“I hope I see you again,” I said, shaking his hand.
“Likewise.”
Luke stepped forward to grasp Brandon in a one-armed hug and then he turned as Brandon left the pub.
I couldn’t read his face. “Luke, I’m sorry. I didn’t know what to say—”
“Don’t be sorry. That was brilliant, even if it was mortifying.”
My cheeks flushed at his praise, and they burned even brighter when he smiled at me.
Luke's arm dropped from my side the moment the elevator doors closed. He stepped a mile back and focused his gaze on everywhere but me. It was as though I was invisible.
I thought that he believed he could ignore me into nonexistence. After the almost-sex in our hotel room, Luke avoided staying too long around me. For hours, I'd stay in the room, alone. It wasn't too terrible. The money I earned was used to travel. I visited York Minster Abbey and marveled at the Gothic splendor, even climbing the abbey's spiral staircase. It was amazing, but I wished I had someone—anyone to experience it with.
On the weekends, Luke and I went out together on fake dates. We kissed in front of paparazzi, we made out in park benches, and we took trains to Bath, Oxford, to the Lake District. The sexual tension between us was as taut as a tightrope, trembling, ready to snap. It all felt so damn real, but every time we returned to the hotel, Luke was distant. He separated himself from me the moment we stepped inside as though he couldn’t wait to be rid of me.
There was an aching hole inside my chest. I no longer enjoyed going out with him—he made me feel even lonelier than I did when I walked alone. It sucked.
I closed my eyes. “Luke?”
“Hm?”
“I can’t take this anymore.”
The elevator lights beamed with the sixth floor.
Luke looked at me with a puzzled expression. “What do you mean?”
“I can’t go on kissing you every day and acting like it means nothing.”
“Jessica, we made an agreement—”
"Then we almost had sex. I haven’t been able to think of anything else."
A heavy weight settled on my shoulder. His abdomen bumped into my back, and I tried to stamp down the swell inside my heart. His fingers brushed aside the strands of hair on my naked skin, and just that was enough to make the heat between my legs blaze into a forest fire.
“Do you think I want to push you away? I'm trying to protect us."
The bell chimed. Seventh floor.
"Maybe I don't want to be protected."
"You're making this harder than it needs to be. I want you, too. More than you realize. But we can't."
"Says who?"
I turned around, and he looked at me with a lopsided smirk. "Damn it."
He bent his head. His hands fell on my head, and his lips sealed against mine in a slow, long kiss. I moaned into him, and his tongue slipped inside, flicking my tongue as if his head was between my legs. As I imagined that, my hands slid around his back and clenched over his ass.
“Is this what you want?” he asked in a heated whisper when he broke the kiss.
“Don’t toy with me.”
“I’m not toying with you.”
I couldn't think while he touched my breast.
"I was just trying to keep my distance.”
He didn’t seem to care about distance anymore. I gasped as his fingers found the waist of my jeans and groped for the zipper. My heart bashed against my ribs as Luke unzipped my pants, his back to the elevator doors. The cold air stung my skin as my pants fell.
The Secret Arrangement Page 45