‘Oh, that’s so kind of you,’ Luke remarked sharply, reaching forward to release the locks.
The air was charged with tension, and Luke had made no mention of seeing her again. She sure as hell wasn’t going to ask him. But there was a little pocket of guilt inside her that said, Don’t let the evening end like this. You’ll never forgive yourself.
She turned before stepping down. ‘Thank you again for—’
‘It was nothing,’ he interrupted coldly.
‘Well, thank you anyway.’
Luke sat immobile with his eyes narrowed on some distant horizon where she couldn’t reach him. She felt wretched leaving like this. Her birthday night had been crammed with emotion and drama, which Luke had cruised through. He’d bought her a lovely gift and a card—even if at the instigation of her brother. And he had kissed her. Luke had kissed her. Her lips were still swollen.
Darting forward impulsively, she pressed a kiss on his stubble-roughened cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘For goodness’ sake, go,’ he snapped, staring fixedly ahead.
He watched Lucia totter across the rutted field in her totally unsuitable shoes and her flapping yellow rubberised coat. How anyone could look quite so desirable in that get-up beat him. But when he’d danced with her, when he’d held her, when he’d felt how warm and young and supple she was … how vulnerable … When those full breasts had rubbed insistently against his chest. How he hadn’t dragged her to him and kissed the breath out of her lungs, he had no idea.
Raking his hair with frustration, he switched on the engine. Bang went the ‘like a sister’ theory. The urge to bury his face in Lucia’s chest and hear her whimper with pleasure while he made love to her had almost overtaken him. It had even crossed his mind to have her in the car. With her feet up on the dash and endless adjustments available to the seats anything was possible.
Except that. Throwing the off-roader into reverse, he knew he would never throw away years of caring about Lucia for a mindless screw in a field. However much she tried his patience he would always be there for her. He had tried to blank her from his mind—goodness knows how hard he’d tried—but she never left his thoughts. She had her own little space in there.
Not so little, Luke accepted as he swung the wheel and turned the car onto the road. Kissing Lucia had been a revelation and had left him wanting more. Much more. What he needed now was distance from Lucia and a chance to put his thoughts in order so he could work out what had really happened tonight.
He made it half a mile down the road before standing on the brake. He could solve most problems with money, but not Lucia. And he couldn’t trust anyone else to sort things out for her. No wonder she hadn’t wanted him to see the state of the caravan she was living in. Maybe she did have something to prove—but not at the expense of her safety. Throwing the gear into reverse, he headed back.
This had nothing to do with her breasts, he told himself firmly as a mental image of his big callused hands encompassing Lucia’s lush breasts almost caused him to steer into a ditch. Concentrate, he told himself firmly as he tickled the brake pedal at the approach to the Sundowner Guest House and Holiday Park.
St Oswalds had suffered in the recession. This was something he knew a lot about, having rescued his family’s business in a recession before going on to build his own company. Fortunately he had both the means and the practical capability to revive the village he believed in. Those childhood summer holidays were as clear in his mind now as they had ever been. So, however small a project the Sundowner might seem to anyone else, it was worth a king’s ransom to him for the memories alone.
He could see a dim light shining in Lucia’s decrepit van. Cursing softly as an image of a naked Lucia, wet and beneath a shower, flashed into his mind, he turned off the road and drove through rotting gates hanging off their hinges. This was worse than he had imagined. Everything was overgrown and desolate. Lucia’s was the only van on what had once been a well-ordered pitch full of caravans. How could she continue to live here?
With his incredulity stretched to the limit for a moment, he could only think of barging in and dragging her out—but then reason kicked in. Lucia wanted responsibility, something he’d been loaded with at an early age. It hadn’t done him any harm. Perhaps he should keep a watching brief and leave her to it.
He could do something here, Luke realised as his mind turned to practical matters. Energy flashed through him as ideas crowded his brain. He was eager to begin restoring the guest house to its former glory, but first he had to make sure Lucia was safe.
Switching off the lights, he freewheeled down the track. Halting behind some trees, he climbed out. Closing the door with barely a click, he walked up to Lucia’s caravan and walked round it, examining it with the light from his mobile phone. There wasn’t a lot he could do in the dark without tools, but he could improvise. He found rocks to place behind the wheels to act as chocks and, knocking the dirt off his hands, decided that, whether Lucia thanked him for his interference or not, he would definitely be back in the daylight to check everything out properly.
So this has nothing to do with sexual hunger and a desire to see Lucia again?
Not much, he mused wryly.
Staring round, he let his restless gaze linger on the moonlit beach and dramatic cliff line. Everything he could see increased his determination to do something to help the village that had once meant so much to him. It would take money and time, but …
Money he had in plenty. But time?
Maybe he could spare a few more days if Margaret agreed to his plan. He had a team of men who could turn around a place like this in no time flat. And when he went back he could steer the project from a distance, no problem, which would give him some much needed space from Lucia.
Lucia …
His concerns for her were back with a vengeance. Lucia lived in great comfort with her brothers in Argentina, so there had to be a very good reason for what she was doing here. Breaking free of four brothers he could understand, but hiding away in a tumbledown caravan out of season when there was no proper work to be had …
Her reaction to the drunk tonight had made it seem that Lucia was frightened of men, but Lucia, of all the women he knew, could handle men with both hands tied behind her back. There weren’t many men as fierce as her brothers. Something didn’t fit. He was going to hold that next call to Nacho until he’d made his own enquiries.
She woke the next morning, feeling something wasn’t quite right. Then her brain kicked into gear and she buried her hot face in the pillow as the whole wonderful, terrible evening with Luke played out in her head. The last thing she wanted was Luke alerting her brothers to a problem. Or, worse, Luke riding in on his white charger to save her and sweeping her away. This was something she had to do alone.
As the phone trilled she tossed the pillow aside and made a lunge for it, then pulled a worried face when she recognised the number. ‘Luke. I was about to ring to say thank you for last night.’
‘So I beat you to it,’ he said, in the low, husky voice that could always make her toes curl. ‘No big deal. I take it you’ve just woken up?’
‘How did you guess?’ she said carefully, testing her still swollen lips with the tip of her tongue. ‘Last night was wonderful, Luke.’ She held her breath.
There was a pause, then Luke said with matching restraint, ‘My pleasure, Lucia.’
‘So,’ she said, sitting up and raking her hair into some semblance of order, as if her brain cells might oblige and follow suit, ‘what can I do for you, Luke?’
‘Put the kettle on?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Put some clothes on too.’
‘That’s a little high-handed of you. This is my one morning off. What’s the rush?’
‘You might want to take a look outside.’
Wiping the condensation off the window with her sleeve, she felt her heart go into flight mode—though she gave a theatrical groan for Luke’s benefit. ‘Couldn
’t you sleep?’ He was sitting outside in his vehicle.
‘Not as well as you, clearly,’ Luke said dryly.
Luke’s voice sounded so close to her ear a blast of heat spiralled through her at the thought of his touch … his kiss …
Forget all that. Luke arriving in daylight, seeing how she was living, was the last thing she wanted. He couldn’t know that she was going to clear a room for herself at the guest house just as soon as she’d sorted something nice out for Margaret. This was only the start of her new life and she couldn’t risk Luke interfering.
‘Aren’t you going to invite me in, Lucia? Much as I love sitting out here in the rain …’
‘Hang on. I’ll just operate the electric gates.’
She could imagine Luke’s report to her brother. She could even write it for him. But whenever she found herself between a rock and a hard place her choice would always be to stand and fight.
Tossing the phone on the bed, she grabbed her birthday shawl—which she’d slept with all night. Wrapping it round her shoulders, she arranged it carefully over a mountainous expanse of unfettered breast, crimping it into folds over her already Luke-eager nipples. Clutching her chest, as if that would somehow hold her heart steady, she remained frozen in place for around two seconds, and then sprang into action with a frantic scramble to clear up the mess. Not that there was much mess, as she didn’t have many possessions.
Seizing a hairband from the side, she arranged her wild black bed-hair in what she hoped was a sexy, messy up-do—then groaned when she caught sight of herself in the flyblown mirror. How would Luke like her early-morning look? Not a lot, she guessed, fumbling with a tube of toothpaste. There was no time to clean her teeth, but she could rub some on her gums.
A glance out of the window confirmed that Luke had arrived from Planet Fabulous, where no one rose late or looked anything other than their best. Snug-fitting jeans moulded his powerful legs and displayed those alarming contours, while his cowboy boots only added to the sense of a man who didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, let alone cared about fashion. Although the red sweater beneath his heavy-duty jacket gave a surprisingly cuddly twist to a man who looked strong enough to crush a rock in his fist.
Chomping on her lips to make them pinker, she already knew that any preparation she might make was too little too late. Luke looked amazing—even better than last night.
Sweeping a hopeless jumble of empty take-out boxes, crisp packets, chocolate wrappers and soda cans from the table onto the floor, she heeled them under the seat, making it to the door with barely a second to spare.
‘Luke,’ she said, forcing the tin door open with a well-timed kick. She stood, arms crossed, barring his way.
‘Are we going to move inside, or are we going to stand out here getting wet?’ he said, glancing up as a particularly malevolent storm cloud emptied its payload on the impossibly wide sweep of his shoulders.
‘I’m sorry. Come in.’
Luke took in everything as he mounted the steps.
‘Welcome to my world,’ she said, fingers tensely white as she clutched the shawl.
‘I hope you’re joking.’
‘Why would I be?’ she said defensively.
‘Where do I begin?’ Luke cast a critical glance around.
‘Well, you can leave right now if all you’re here for is to find fault.’
Luke only had to ease position slightly to assure her that he had no intention of going anywhere.
CHAPTER SEVEN
He loves me … He loves me not. He loves me … He loves me not. At least not in the way I need him to love me.
LUKE’S expression might be fierce and dark, but she was ready for him. Remembering his teasing kisses, she so wasn’t up for brotherly concern.
‘Why are you here?’ She tried to keep her voice light, remembering her determination that, whatever happened, somehow they must remain friends.
‘Can’t I even visit you now?’ Luke’s black brows snapped together.
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’ He looked angrier than she had ever seen him. ‘Whether I shake my head and tell you how this really looks to me, or if I pussyfoot around and pat you on the back for doing so well for yourself, Lucia?’
‘That’s hardly fair—’
‘Can I sit down?’ he interrupted.
‘I think you better had,’ she agreed tensely.
Luke couldn’t even stand straight in the van, the ceiling was so low. And his shoulders took up most of the width. He was one of the few men, apart from her brothers, who could make her feel small. Bringing the cover down, he avoided sitting on her sheets. She liked that—but not the way Luke was acting. It reminded her too much of her brothers when they were in we-must-bring-Lucia-back-into-line mode.
‘I can’t believe you’re living here, Lucia,’ Luke ground out, confirming her thoughts.
‘And what’s wrong with here?’ she said tensely.
‘I doubt it’s even safe.’
‘Of course it’s safe.’
‘Rubbish.’
‘If that’s all you’ve come to say—’
‘Not nearly,’ he snarled. ‘If you’re working for Margaret, why aren’t you sleeping at the guest house?’
‘Have you been there recently?’
‘It can’t be any worse than here. This caravan’s freezing. It’s damp and the roof is leaking.’
‘The roof can be repaired.’
Luke flashed a fast penetrating glance. ‘By you?’
‘I’ll find someone.’
‘Make it fast. And you’ll pay them how?’ he fired back in quick succession. ‘You’d better ask your miracle workers to remove the spiders while they’re at it,’ he added, brandishing a really leggy one.
‘Don’t kill it.’
‘What do you take me for?’
‘You really don’t want to know.’ She watched transfixed as Luke transported the spider to the door, as if it were a priceless Fabergé egg he was holding in his large fist.
‘You can’t stay here,’ he said, having deposited their hairy friend outside.
‘Says who? You?’
‘I won’t let you,’ Luke confirmed, resting one giant fist on his hip.
She knew that pose. It was like a big cat, kidding you it was relaxing just before it pounced. ‘You can’t stop me living here.’ Tilting her chin, she directed a warning stare into Luke’s eyes.
‘Let me put this another way, Lucia. You don’t have to stay here.’
‘You’re offering to pay for me to move somewhere better?’ she guessed, trying to remember that determination to remain calm.
Luke shrugged.
‘I’ve already told you—I don’t need your help, Luke.’
‘You clearly do,’ he argued.
‘Margaret needs me here on site.’
‘If Margaret needs you why don’t you clear a room at the guest house and move in?’
‘I’m working on that as fast as I can.’
‘Work faster.’
Luke’s amber eyes had turned obsidian black, and they were very close—within touching distance. It would only take a step, a breath, one move by either of them … Luke’s heat licked around her like a possession spell, or maybe a lust spell, showing him to be unashamedly male. It was far too much man for her damaged soul to handle.
She breathed a sigh of relief when Luke turned away to stare out of the window. Luke was her friend and she wanted it to stay that way. He had always been the one person she could confide in when her brothers ganged up on her. She wished she could confide in him now, one last time, and have Luke draw her into the safety of his embrace. But if he did that she wouldn’t know when to stop, and then she would find herself in the ambit of Luke’s world, rather than her own.
‘The guest house is barely habitable,’ she explained, drawing her business persona round her like a protective cloak.
‘And sorting it out will be a long job,’ Luke agreed turning round to f
ace her.
‘Are you about to make a move on the guest house?’
‘Do you have some prior hold on it?’ he said, watching her closely.
‘So you are thinking of investing?’
‘Margaret has expressed an interest and I have money to invest.’
If Luke and his stormtroopers moved in how real would her independence be then? As if she didn’t know. ‘It doesn’t always come down to money, Luke.’
‘Try doing anything without it, Lucia,’ he flashed impatiently. ‘Good intentions don’t mend buildings. How are you going to set the guest house back on its feet?’
‘By working every spare hour I’ve got. I’ve had a lot of extra shifts at the club recently.’
‘I don’t question your work ethic. I don’t question your ability to turn things round, either, if funds are available—and I’d make sure they were. I’ve seen the work you’ve done on the estancia, and on the guest quarters at the family house on Isla del Fuego.’
‘Desperation drove me to do that,’ Lucia admitted, lightening up as she thought back. ‘My brothers would be quite happy for their guests to live like horses in a barn if I didn’t handle the décor and the organisation of the hospitality side of things for them.’
‘Exactly,’ Luke agreed. ‘So I don’t understand why the possibility of us working together here in Cornwall has never occurred to you.’
She couldn’t have been more shocked. ‘What are you suggesting?’
‘Come and work for me,’ Luke explained. ‘I’d trust you to look after my best interests if I’m not around.’
Oh, great. Work for Luke, but without him being around. She would be just one more employee amongst the hundreds working for Forster, Inc.
She should be grateful for the opportunity, Lucia reminded herself. So how come she wasn’t?
Because she wanted to paddle her own canoe, maybe?
‘I’ve always been able to trust you, Lucia,’ Luke continued, picking up on her change of heart. ‘Nothing’s changed where’s that’s concerned, has it?’
‘Of course not.’ She blanked London from her mind.
‘Well?’ he pressed.
The Man From her Wayward Past Page 7