by Carol Rose
"Well, what about this one?" The sweetheart neck and the bow in the back were a tad ordinary, but perfectly suitable.
Luke shook his head.
"How are we doing?" Marge asked archly as she swept into the room. "Are you finding everything you need?"
"We're fine--" Lillie started.
Luke smile ruefully at the saleswoman, turning on the charm. "I'm helping to pick out the dresses for my sister's wedding, but I can't seem to visualize how they'll look when they're just hanging on a hanger."
"I understand completely," the woman assured him, her expression warming under the influence of his masculine appeal.
Lillie resisted the urge to grind her teeth.
"If I could see them on someone...," Luke murmured, his dark eyes gleaming as he glanced in Lillie's direction.
"Why don't you try them on, Ms. Parker?" the saleswoman suggested as if on cue.
"I don't think--" she started hastily. There was no way she was going to parade around in front of Luke Morgan, looking like she was advertising her wares.
"You have such a perfect figure, you could be a model anyway," Marge gushed.
Lillie smelled a set-up. If there had been anyway for Luke to have planned this awkward situation, she wouldn't have put it past him. "I think it's a much better idea to see the dresses on the person who'll wear them," she tried in her most composed, businesslike voice. "We'll get the attendants and come back later."
"But we're here now," Luke put in silkily. "And with getting ready for my meeting with this new corporate client, I'm not sure when I'll have time later."
Lillie glared at him.
"Well, that's settled," Marge declared with satisfaction. "Just come find me, Ms. Parker, when you've decided on the one you want to order." The woman scurried off to her other customers.
They stood there facing each other like gunfighters at the O.K. Corral--Luke seeming as comfortable as an old pro, Lillie feeling like a wet-behind-the-ears novice. She searched his face, furiously trying to think of a way out of the situation.
For a week now, she'd struggled with the sense of estrangement between them. She didn't understand him, and yet she couldn't get him out of her mind.
Her nights were a tangle of dreams and longings that jarred her soul. How could she let Luke affect her so much when she knew he wasn't the man for her?
She had no illusions about that. But just the thought of Luke's eyes on her body, his gaze scrutinizing every curve and hollow, made her feel flushed and achy.
"Shall we get started?" The corners of his mouth lifted.
"I suppose so." Reluctantly, Lillie turned toward the racks of dresses. She just needed to get it over with.
Intent on grabbing up the most likely dresses and hurrying through this ordeal, Lillie jumped when she felt Luke's hand on her elbow.
"Why don't you go into the dressing room," he suggested, "and I'll hand you the ones I want to see.”
"I don't know," she protested. "I really should help you select the better ones--."
"But Melanie said she trusted my judgment," Luke reminded her with a smile, his hand still warm on her bare arm. "Why don't we try it my way?"
"Fine." She resisted the urge to flounce off to the dressing room. Businesslike, if she could only keep it businesslike.
Either he had terrible taste or the man was trying to torture her, Lillie thought minutes later as she stood in her bra and panties staring at the first gown he'd thrust through the brocade curtains.
The dress was a bilious shade of pink, made of cheap taffeta with a huge pink ruffle that ran from the waist, up over the shoulder and down the back. If she hadn't had ample proof that most men were fashion idiots, she might have wondered if he were serious about the dress.
Shuddering, Lillie put it on. She fought her way through the fluffy underskirt and wrestled to zip it.
"Need any help with the zipper?" he called.
"Not in this lifetime," Lillie muttered.
"What?"
"No," she responded, her tone saccharine. "I can handle it."
"Just let me know if you have any trouble," Luke said, laughter evident in his voice. "I don't mind helping out."
"I'll bet you don't," she muttered again, keeping her voice low as she slapped at the dress's huge ruffle. Once on, the thing rose up like a giant fin, partially obscuring her vision on one side.
Maybe he's fashion-impaired, she cautioned herself. Surely, once he saw this monstrosity on her, he'd let her pick out the other possibilities.
Pinning an optimistic smile on her face, Lillie stepped through the dressing room curtain.
Luke sat waiting in a spindly, pink brocade chair placed just outside the dressing room.
Swatting at the ruffle again, Lillie smiled encouragingly at him as she spun slowly around. Her smile died as she pivoted around just in time to catch an expression of exquisite amusement on his face.
If she hadn't promised Melanie to keep Luke involved in the wedding plans, she might just have walked out of the shop at that moment and left him there, grinning like a fool.
Then again, she'd die before being seen in public in the fin dress.
Luke got up, coming to walk around her slowly, reaching out to touch the cheap, silky fabric at her shoulder.
She drew in her breath with a silent hiss. His hand was warm where it lingered, brushing against her arm.
"Well, it's not bad," he said, finally, a smile hovering on his face. "But let's look at a few others."
"Yes, let's." Relief warred with irritation. If she had to wear the stupid thing, the least he could do was pretend not to enjoy it.
It seemed abundantly clear, however, that Luke was having a great time.
Lillie had the pink fin dress over her head when Luke brought the next dress. She just grabbed out for it, anxious to have him gone from the doorway. Who knew what he could see when he shoved things through the curtain?
Managing to extricate herself from the first dress, Lillie gasped when she lay eyes on his next choice. It looked like something out of Scarlett O'Hara's wardrobe, complete with parasol.
"Luke, you can't be serious," she protested.
"Melanie always loved Gone With The Wind," he mentioned blandly, from the other side of the curtain. "Why don't you just give it a shot?"
"Because I'll look ridiculous," Lillie declared. But she put the dress on. Melanie had been quite specific about keeping Luke involved in everything. If she did anything to shut him out, he might go back to sabotaging his sister's wedding. They couldn't have that.
The apple green dress settled around her like a shower of meringue. Lillie struggled with the underarm zipper and tugged at the low cut bodice that revealed far too much. The hoop swayed like gelatin when she moved and the tiny puff sleeves made her look like she was fifteen.
Lillie pushed the curtains open with grim determination, the parasol clutched in her hands. If he laughed, she was going to hit him with it.
Popping through the dressing room doorway as if she'd been squeezed out of a tube, she stood there glaring at Luke, her eyes daring him to make a comment.
But he didn't. He just sat there on the spindly chair, his dark eyes clinging to her, skimming the snug fit of her bodice, lingering heatedly on the upper swells of her breasts.
The bodice must have been tighter than she'd realized. Lillie felt a sudden need for air. She felt the quick rising of her chest as her lungs clamored, felt Luke's gaze on her body as if he were touching her.
"That's...," he cleared his throat, "that's not quite what I had in mind."
"I should hope not." She turned to glance in the mirror.
"But I bet your future husband would love it," Luke continued, his gaze shifting to her face, a combination of mockery and challenge.
Lillie swung around to face him. "What?"
"Your future husband, the knight on a white horse. The perfect man who'll match up to all your expectations and meet all your emotional needs." He sat back in the sma
ll chair, a razor-thin smile on his mouth.
"I'm not sure what that has to do with anything," she said, puzzled by the sudden jab of his comment. Turning, she opened the dressing room curtains, preparing to fight her way back through the doorway.
"It has to do with everything," Luke answered, more than a hint of mocking anger in his voice.
Discretion was the better part of valor, she decided, not replying. Stripping off the hooped dress, Lillie stared at her reflection in the mirror. She felt as if her heart was getting all tangled up with Luke's, the enticing sense of connection between them cut both ways. How ironic that the man who was determined not to give in to his feelings, stirred every emotion in her.
When she didn't want to strip him naked and have her way with him, she was torn between wanting to comfort his hurts and wanting to shake him till his teeth rattled. Like now when he was acting out his hidden anger in having her try on ridiculous dresses. She'd tolerated his game up to this point, but she wasn't sure Luke knew when to stop. Did he even care that he had her heart on a roller coaster?
"Here's the next one." Luke pushed yet another hanger through the curtain.
Caught up in her thoughts, Lillie had stripped off the hooped dress and was halfway into the red outfit he'd handed her before she realized exactly what she was putting on.
The cocktail dress looked like two sequins and a scarf. Most bridal wear shops wouldn't have even carried such a revealing dress. Unfortunately for her, this shop combined bridal with a wide variety of formal wear.
Lillie stared at herself in the mirror, her temper boiling like a kettle. How dare he? He had to know she wouldn't appear in public in an outfit like this. Of course he knows. And he thinks you're too chicken to let him see you in it, too.
Outraged and determined to throw his dare back in his face, Lillie slung back the curtain before her courage deserted her. She stalked out of the dressing room and stopped a foot in front of where he sat.
Luke felt the breath knocked out of him as if he'd been tackled by a lineman.
She stood in front of him, her glorious body more revealed than concealed by the sexy red dress. He'd never thought she'd actually put it on.
Tiny sequined triangles cupped her rounded breasts, her pale, creamy flesh lusciously exposed. The short skirt clung to her hips, parting seductively over one gorgeous thigh.
He curled his hands into balls, controlling the overwhelming itch to touch her. Need coursed through him, the irresistible ache to kiss every inch of her, to thrust her back into the seclusion of the dressing room and thrust himself into her heat.
He saw the rapid rise and fall of her chest, the tight kernels of her nipples through the red material. Her blue eyes were dilated. Her breath came in little pants, and Luke knew that beneath her anger, the same hunger gripped her.
Swallowing, he fought the urge to yank her into his arms, feeling himself hardening to readiness. Damn, this wasn't the time or place, even if the lady was willing. And the lady probably wasn't willing, even though her body seemed to be.
Clearing his throat, he said the first thing that came to his mind. "Honey, you look good enough to eat. But don't wear that with anyone else. One of those sensitive guys you talk about would have a heart attack."
The blossoming passion died out of her eyes, quenched in an instant. Her soft face seemed to harden. "It's none of your business who I do anything with."
She turned and flounced into the dressing room.
"You might want to be careful," he couldn't resist saying. "Even really emotional men can turn into animals like the rest of us."
"Go to hell." The curtain barely muffled her words.
Luke sighed roughly. He hadn't meant to make her angry. He'd only insisted they come look for the dress today because he'd been unable to resist giving her trouble for poking her nose into the situation with his mother.
This whole thing with Janet was becoming a pain in the rear. Lillie seemed hung up on it, as if she couldn't just act on the attraction between the two of them.
"Is there something else you'd like me to try on?" Her voice was honey-laced strychnine.
"I'll get a couple more," he responded, heading straight for the black chiffon on the first rack.
He shouldn't have given in to his anger and frustration. What had started out as a subtle game was turning into something uglier.
Strangely enough, now that he'd managed to rouse her to the same level of anger he'd been wrestling with for days--he found his own wrath subsiding. The woman riled him faster than the speed of light, but it wasn't anger he wanted between them.
Despite her idealistic bleeding heart, he wanted her. She made him laugh, made him want to spend every night making hot, hungry love to her.
Luke could remember every detail. He felt again the texture of her mouth beneath his, the velvet stroke of his tongue on hers. Just thinking about the way her breath caught as he pulled her close, heated him to the core.
He ached to arch her to him again, to sink with her to the floor and take possession of her body and soul. His ultimate fantasy now involved spending days and weeks making love to her in that white eyelet bed while she wore the lavender bra that had hung from her shower rod.
She had all the characteristics he wanted in a woman, the intelligence and warmth, the constancy.
They could have a future together if she'd let them. Somehow he'd have to make her see that quickly. Because once he'd shaken some sense into Melanie and put an end to the marriage plans, he'd lose any leverage to keep Lillie in his life. If she'd even speak to him after he tore his sister out of Scott's arms.
CHAPTER SEVEN
One thing was clear, Luke thought as he sank into his chair and stared at the telephone on his desk. He hated fighting with Lillie.
A little skirmish now and then could be interesting, but this open warfare thing was no fun. All the way back from the bridal shop she'd treated him to her imitation of a freezer.
She'd had no right to interfere with his mother, but he knew she'd meant well and he didn't have a doubt that Janet had made it difficult to refuse her.
In an unbidden flash, Luke remembered the hurt in his mother's eyes as she'd stood in the church, begging him to forgive her. Yes, the mess she'd made of her life had hurt Melanie and him. But they'd gone on, put the misery behind them. Why couldn't she?
Melanie had been younger, so she naturally had some curiosity about the woman who'd given birth to her. But Luke saw no point in reestablishing any significant contact.
There was nothing left between them and hashing it all over couldn't change that.
Was it too much to expect Lillie to accept that, even if she couldn't understand it? Still, his little attempt at revenge had backfired on him big time. In the few days since then, they'd had no contact and he had to admit he'd missed her.
Luke lifted the receiver. Groveling was out of the question, but his conscience had been nagging at him. Maybe he'd pushed her a little too far.
He tapped in Lillie's phone number.
"Hello?"
He envisioned her in her ruffled, feminine office, wearing tiny shorts with her feet bare.
"Hi." A husky note crept into his voice.
There was a fractional pause before she responded with a cool, "Hello."
"I'm calling to offer an olive branch," Luke said, getting right to the point.
"You are?" Her skepticism radiated over the phone lines.
"Yes. I'd like us to declare a truce."
"I can't imagine why," she said coolly.
"Maybe your Pollyanna-ness is rubbing off on me. Don't you think it would be good if we could come to a compromise of sorts?"
"Oh, so you're not waving the white flag?" she asked, a thread of humor in her words.
"Not exactly."
"I didn't think so," Lillie said. "You're probably constitutionally unable to do that."
"Who knows? I'm developing new talents all the time," he said, knowing she thought him under-
worked in the personal growth department.
"That sounds interesting."
"Why don't we talk terms over dinner."
"Dinner?" she repeated, as if he'd caught her off guard.
"Yes, you know. We dress up, I take you to an obscenely expensive place and we let snobby waiters talk down to us."
Her gurgle of laughter warmed Luke.
"Shall I pick you up at seven?" he asked.
"Ummm. I'm not sure what I have going tonight," she stalled. "Just what kind of terms are we going to talk over?"
She wasn't going to make this easy for him. "I think we'll probably start out with an apology," Luke said, more anxious to see her than he'd realized. After all, if he was going to convince the woman to give up her idealism, he had to see her.
"Okay," Lillie agreed softly. "Pick me up at seven."
* * *
Smoothing her hand down the powder blue chiffon dress, Lillie took a deep breath as the doorbell rang again.
Turning the knob, she pulled the door open to reveal Luke standing on her front steps wearing a dark, well-tailored suit.
She felt her mouth drop open.
Luke seemed to be suffering a similar reaction. His eyes widened and then narrowed as his gaze skated over her bare shoulders, down to where her skirt ended at mid-thigh. Lifting his scrutiny slowly to her face, Luke extended his hand. In it he held a spray of delicate Stargazer lilies, their creamy petals dotted with pink.
"I come in peace."
"Thank you," she said, feeling shy as she accepted his gift. "I'll just put them in some water and we can go."
The drive was quiet as Luke steered the car through the growing dusk. Lillie didn't ask where they were going. Her thoughts kept her too distracted. Even though she'd spent long hours this last week sending hostile thoughts his way, she'd never thought he'd call to make peace.
It was too much to hope that Luke's attempt at reconciliation would extend as far as him becoming supportive of Scott and Melanie's marriage. Lillie knew his offer of a truce had more to do with the two of them than with their siblings. And truthfully, her anger with him had little connection to their sibling's wedding.
Lillie's reverie was broken when Luke turned into a drive marked only by a discreet sign that announced "The Chateau." Swiveling around to look at him in surprise, she remembered his comment about going somewhere "obscenely expensive." At the time, she hadn't thought he'd meant it so literally.