by Carol Rose
"Hello, Mother," he drawled, his voice as cold as a desert night.
Lillie's head snapped around to stare at him. This woman was his mother?
He stood unmoving on the porch next to Lillie, his face like granite, his eyes hard and flat.
Confused, Lillie glanced between mother and son, questions crowding her mind. Somehow she'd gotten the impression from Scott that Melanie and Luke's mother was dead. But here the woman stood in the flesh.
"Luke," Janet Howard repeated tremulously. "I wasn't expecting you here."
"Obviously." The single word held both contempt and dislike.
Lillie frowned up at him. Why was he being so hateful? Belatedly, she realized that the woman hadn't immediately recognized her son. How long had it been since these two had seen each other?
"I saw the announcement of Melanie's engagement in the newspaper," Janet said haltingly. "Weddings take so much work. I thought I might be able to help."
Eager to turn the conversation to steady ground, Lillie jumped to say, "That would be nice--"
"It won't be necessary," Luke interrupted. "Since Melanie's off at college, I'm taking care of the wedding details with Ms. Parker's help."
"Oh." Disconcerted, the older woman stared at him helplessly.
The hurt in her eyes skewered Lillie's heart. Impulsive words tripped off her tongue. "It would be nice to have a mother's touch, we could--"
"I'm sure my...mother is too busy." Steel couldn't have been colder than Luke's tone. "We'll be able to handle things quite well ourselves."
"Of course, you will." A touch of bitterness entered the woman's voice. She raised her chin. "Could you give me Melanie's address at school? I seem to have mislaid it."
"How...unfortunate." Luke's sneer was obvious as he recited the address while his mother quickly scribbled it on a scrap of paper.
"Well, thank you." She turned to Lillie, offering her hand once more. "It was nice to meet you, Ms. Parker. I hope we meet again soon." She threw her son a last pleading look as she turned to go.
"Nice to meet you, too," Lillie murmured, feeling as though a sunny August day had taken on tones of the Twilight Zone. In the flash of an instant, the laughing, teasing man beside her had turned into a chunk of stone.
She looked up at him, profoundly disturbed by the lingering anger in his eyes as he watched his mother walk away. The woman was his mother and he'd barely given her the time of day. What could she have done to deserve such hostility from her son?
"Luke?" Lillie reached out, her hand touching his arm. "Are you okay?"
He glanced down, impersonally. "Of course. Listen, I'll get those brochures later. I need to get back to work." He turned to leave.
"Wait a second," Lillie said, halting him in midstride. "About your mother--"
"Never mind her." His face was expressionless. "Call me if you need help with that lock."
Lillie stared after him, feeling as helpless and shut out as his mother had looked. He'd dismissed the woman as if she meant nothing to him. And just as readily discarded her own concern.
Even two years after her parents' death, Lillie would have given anything to see them again, to hear their voices, to be held in their arms. Luke's mother was still alive and obviously eager to heal whatever hurt had separated them. Yet, Luke wanted nothing to do with her.
It seemed unfathomable.
Lillie absently wrestled the front door lock open and went inside, her mind a tumble of questions and conjectures.
In the few weeks that she'd known him, Luke had managed to disturb, puzzle and irritate her more than any other human being. No matter what she did, he refused to be relegated to a safe distance.
It made no sense, but the scene with his mother haunted Lillie. He couldn't be happy with the state of affairs. She couldn't shake the feeling that he harbored a terrible pain in him, one that he refused to share and declined to address.
His problems weren't her business. He hadn't asked for her help with his family dynamics and wouldn't appreciate her interference. Still, she couldn't stop feeling as if she had to do something to make sense of his reactions.
Dropping her purse on the couch, Lillie reached for the phone. With any luck, she'd catch Scott on his lunch break.
"Hello." Scott answered on the second ring.
"Hey." Lillie smiled into the receiver. Just the sound of his voice brought a rush of affection. "Studying chemistry?"
"No," he said dryly, "I'm watching the soaps. What are you up to these days?"
"Not much. Just running a business and trying to set up a great wedding for some guy who thinks he's related to me."
"How are things going?" he asked perfunctorily.
Lillie grinned to herself. Despite growing up with a wedding consultant for a mother, Scott couldn't care less about the trappings of matrimony, even if the event was his own.
"One step forward, two steps back," she admitted. "Listen, I was wondering about Melanie's mother. Does Mel ever talk about her parents?"
"Hmmm," he seemed to think for a moment. "Well, her dad died four or five years ago. I get the idea he wasn't much of a father."
"What about her mother?"
"I don't think they have any contact. Why do you want to know?" he demanded, his curiosity finally kicking in.
"Melanie's mother came to see me today."
"She what?"
"She saw the engagement announcement in the paper and just showed up at the house."
"How'd she know to come to you?" he asked, sounding baffled.
"I always put myself in as coordinator," Lillie reminded him. "Genteel advertising."
"Oh. So, what about her mother?"
"She seems like a nice enough person, but the strange part was Luke's reaction. He treated her like the family's black sheep."
"His own mother?"
"Yes," Lillie said, exasperated.
Scott chuckled. "So it's not just me he hates."
"This isn't funny. He acted like she was a stranger. That's why I called. What do you think happened between Mel and Luke and their mother?"
"Beats me," Scott said. "I know it was a bad divorce. Both the kids were pretty shaken by it. But Mel was only three or four when her parents broke up. She's never really said much about the divorce. I don't get the idea that she hates her mom or dad, though."
"I don't know." Lillie chewed absently at a nail. "This whole thing is too weird--working with Luke instead of Melanie, now this mother thing."
"Don't bail on me now, sis," Scott protested. "We need you to handle this, do what you can to influence Luke."
"Dream on," she said gloomily.
"I kinda got the idea that he has the hots for you," Scott teased slyly. "Why don't you use your feminine charms to persuade him?"
"Don't be ridiculous," she said irritably. Lillie wasn't about to get into a discussion of Luke's attraction to her "feminine charms." Certainly not with her baby brother.
"Hey, why shouldn't he give you the eye?" protested Scott. "My friends have always talked about what a babe you are."
"I think I need to hang up now," Lillie said with a dry note in her voice.
"Okay. I know you're busy," he said easily. "I'm counting on you, sis. Bye."
Lillie grimaced at the receiver as she lay it back in the cradle. He was counting on her for more than wedding arrangements. Scott firmly believed she could coax Luke into accepting Melanie's marriage. And Luke called her optimistic.
She'd hate to shake her brother's faith in her abilities, but at this moment, Lillie couldn't understand Luke, much less know how to change his mind.
* * *
Luke looked around the room, ignoring the celebrating wedding guests as he searched for Lillie. Picking up a wedding consultant "after work" was a different kind of experience. The rented hotel party room was decorated in vibrant splashes of color instead of the pastels used at most weddings.
At one end of the room on a raised dais, a big band played dance tunes from the forti
es. The mellow strings floated each note out like helium balloons.
Skirting the dance floor, Luke continued his search. The tables were topped with magnificent bouquets that mixed red and orange with a deep purple. Even the tables that held the food were unique, skirted in a jewel-toned fabric that seemed almost medieval.
He wasn't sure how he'd locate Lillie in such a throng, but that was the plan. After his vetoing half a dozen bland churches, Lillie had finally, reluctantly, agreed to use the gardens. Tonight, they had a date to check out musicians for Mel's wedding.
Even though he was still determined to keep her from making this mistake, he'd play along with the wedding preparations for a while. Melanie had begged him.
It should be an interesting evening. Luke could still hear the cool tone of Lillie's voice when she'd called him. The result of his mother's sudden reappearance, he knew.
Unfortunately, he'd been surprised into a reaction that day. One that shook Lillie's idealistic picture of familial relationships and made her even more wary of him.
He'd probably given Lillie an inaccurate impression in that sidewalk meeting. Truthfully, Janet Morgan Howard didn't have the power to hurt him anymore. In the seventeen years since she'd left the family, Luke had come to terms with who she was. Her showing up out of the blue at an awkward time was annoying, but he didn't doubt she'd disappear as quickly as she'd come.
Luke's concern now was how to make up lost ground with Lillie. Her ideal man would probably be an attentive and loving son, sending cards and flowers at the drop of a tear.
It was long past time for Lillie to be cured of her idealism and he was the man to do it. The longer he knew her, the more convinced he was of their basic compatibility. She'd talked of her eagerness to be an aunt and of how involved she planned to be in Scott and Melanie's children's lives.
If Luke had anything to say about it, Melanie wouldn't have a husband, much less children for ten or twelve years.
Since the rainy afternoon in Mac's garden, Luke's determination to have Lillie had grown like a drought-hardy weed. He knew of at least ten good reasons not to go after her. But there was too much sizzle between them. Too much potential for tremendous sex once she cleared the cobwebs out of her head.
Besides, he liked her. Liked the way her eyes sparkled when she got riled, liked the way she didn't back down. Lillie made him laugh. Made him hot and hungry and, in the face of such a combination, he was willing to work at winning her away from the false god of romanticism.
Love lured a man like the call of a sea siren, tempted like the glitter of sun on shattered glass. Never mind the cost to others, never mind the destruction in its wake. There were much better things to base your life on.
Ever since the break-up with Angie he'd known he didn't want a marriage subject to the emotional roller coaster. It seemed that loyalty and affection, respect and liking, built a stronger bond between a man and a woman than romance. But he'd never intended to give up passion. The desire that made a man's heart thunder, his body quicken like a bugle call.
No woman had ever affected him like Lillie. Ever.
Luke moved toward the serving area. It seemed the most likely place to find her.
He spotted her in a second, the tumble of her blond curls standing out like a beacon. Wearing a soft dress of deep wine, she looked like an exotic flower, her lovely face sparkling. She was engaged in an animated conversation with a small woman who was apparently directing the caterers.
Luke wound his way through the wedding guests, catching fragments of Lillie's conversation as he drew nearer.
"...anyway, it worked out fine," she said, satisfaction lacing her voice.
"I certainly wouldn't recommend their business anymore," the smaller woman sniffed. "Having a wedding cake collapse before the reception is just the kind of disaster we try to avoid."
Luke moved nearer, slipping between the guests. Lillie hadn't seen him yet, he knew.
"I think we have to give Maud credit for her promptness in coming over to redo it," Lillie said, her face serene despite the apparent near-disaster. "Neither the couple nor their guests knew what happened. The cake looked lovely when Maud was done."
"Yes," the caterer agreed reluctantly. "She does have a flair for cakes, and if you can handle the heart-attack, I suppose no harm was done. I'd be reaching for a shot of scotch at this point if I were you."
Lillie chuckled. "You get used to it. Crazy things always happen when you coordinate weddings. There's a high 'roll with the punches' quotient."
"Well," the other woman brushed her hands against her white apron, "I need to get busy. Things will be winding up here now that the bride and groom have left." The caterer bustled away.
Luke glanced out at the dance floor. The numbers of guests were clearly dwindling, just since he'd arrived.
"Yep, time for us to get to work...," Lillie's voice trailed off when she caught sight of Luke.
He almost chuckled at the transformation in her face, the laughter disappearing from her eyes like bubbles from old champagne. No doubt about it, he had his work cut out for him if he was going to win his way into her good graces and into her bed. But he didn't doubt she'd be worth it.
"Good evening, Luke," she offered, turning slightly away from him as she fussed with a bow at the corner of the cake table.
"Good evening, Lillie," Luke said, determined to charm the stiffness out of her face. "This is a nice reception you've arranged."
"Thank you. Are you sure the setting isn't too tame for you?" She lifted an eyebrow, clearly alluding to his determination to use Mac's wild garden for Melanie's wedding.
"I think you've done a wonderful job," he said softly. "But don't you need to do something about the air conditioner?"
"Air conditioner?" She glanced around the room as if checking for uncomfortable guests.
"Yes," Luke murmured. "There seems to be a definite chill in the air."
Lillie's head swiveled back to look at him, a lethal gleam of comprehension in her eyes.
"Brrrr." He shivered, keeping his face straight.
"The temperature seems perfectly fine to me," she said, still cool, but clearly more self-conscious about it.
Luke smiled. In some ways, she was such an innocent. Any ruthless thief of hearts could play on a woman's ideal of the perfect man. Unfortunately, he had his own peculiar brand of integrity. Winning Lillie through foul means didn't suit his ego.
"Did you have any trouble finding the place?" she asked politely as if they were strangers.
"No." His glance skated over her face, her chilly attitude poking at him like a thorn. He'd come to anticipate the parade of emotion across Lillie's face, her openness as refreshing as the unfurling of spring. Now it seemed she was shutting him out, closing the door to herself.
Luke felt the back of his neck itch just like it had when he was a kid about to pick a fight. So much for using charm to win her over.
"So has your brother found himself a new roommate?" he asked with a mocking note. "We wouldn't want him to have trouble sleeping at night."
Lillie's eyes darkened, the change in her expression like a flash fire melting a glacier. "What exactly does that remark mean? Scott is very capable of sleeping by himself and taking care of himself."
"Good for him. Do you want to dance?"
"What?" She frowned, clearly startled by his change of subject.
"Dance," he repeated, drawing her into his arms without giving her a chance to refuse. With one quick maneuver, he shifted onto the dance floor with an armful of insulted woman.
"If you're trying to infer that my brother only wants to be with your sister--"
"I don't even want to talk about your brother," Luke said with what he hoped was a disarming smile. "I just wanted to wipe that iceberg expression off your face."
Lillie felt her irritation sputtering like a dying candle. How did he manage to push all her buttons? Sensing his gaze on her face, she struggled to subdue the tumultuous emotions in her c
hest. Never before had any man rubbed her wrong in so many ways.
She had to admit he moved well to music, his steps sure as he held her close. That surprised her. Most testosterone-laden men were afraid to learn to dance. They usually had a fear of looking foolish and couldn't be coaxed into the activity even though their women longed to dance.
She'd never met a more contradictory man, Lillie thought as Luke guided her into the flow of the music. He'd puzzled her from the start.
Gradually losing her initial stiffness, Lillie relaxed in Luke's arms, unwillingly inhaling his scent. He felt so good against her, strong and confident, leading without the aggressive push-pull that some men needed. She swallowed, trying to ignore the awareness rising in her. Her pulse felt like a rising drumbeat and she prayed that he couldn't feel its thrumming beneath her skin.
Remembrance was a dangerous thing with him holding her so close. His kiss, the drugging sensuality of his touch.
The room seemed warm now, a heady, soft heat that owed nothing to air conditioning or the lack of the same. Scrambling to locate a fraction of her earlier coolness, Lillie closed her eyes for a moment as she swayed in his arms.
The music ebbed around them, rich and soft. She felt it in her blood, a heavy throbbing that had little to do with the orchestra's rhythm. Beneath her fingers, Luke's jacket felt warm and rough, its texture almost coarse.
He was too close, too overwhelming, too much everything.
She struggled to remember all the reasons she shouldn't let this man get to her. But every flaw she plucked from her memory seemed pale when she looked up into his face. The determined square jaw ought to have warned her away, the hungry roving brush of his dark eyes should have shouted caution.
As he bent nearer, their bodies swaying in unison, she caught the scent of his aftershave, an unnameable combination that wove its way into her senses. Why couldn't he have worn a loud and aggressive cologne? It should be a rule. Macho, insensitive men shouldn't be allowed to wear cologne that just teased a woman, whispering images of tumbled sheets and sexy smiles.
He held her gaze as he drew her closer, his intent written in his dark eyes. She had all the time in the world. Eons of time to pull away...but she didn't. Something held her, a wicked, self-destructive throb of excitement, a hunger to feel his lips again on hers.