by Ros Clarke
Luke shrugged. ‘You’d have thought so. But they met at Royal Ascot – the most glamorous race meeting in the year. I think she expected her life to be a social whirl of society engagements with the rich and well-connected. Not Huntingdon in the rain.’
‘Oh, Luke. Was it very miserable?’ Fliss sounded genuinely concerned.
‘For her, yes.’
‘For you?’
He didn’t much want to think about that either. ‘I suppose so. I didn’t know any different, though.’
‘What made her leave in the end?’
‘She found a richer, younger, more sophisticated replacement,’ Luke said bitterly. ‘She always did like spending someone else’s money. It didn’t matter if the horses’ tack was falling apart or if Dad was struggling to pay the stable lads’ wages. Mum always took the credit card and spent money like it meant nothing.’
‘Good thing you’ve got millions, then,’ Fliss said lightly.
Luke shook his head. ‘I do now. Dad didn’t then. He barely scraped by, paying Mum’s bills and just about keeping the animals fed. We needed every winner we got back then.’
‘I didn’t know that.’
‘No. You’ve never asked,’ he pointed out. Since she’d first found out about his wealth, Fliss had shown a refreshing lack of interest in his money.
‘I didn’t think it was any of my business.’
Luke told her anyway. ‘I set up a property development company with a mate when I left school. We hit the market at just the right time. Made a million in our first year. He bought me out when Dad retired and I wanted to come back to the stables.’
‘For how much?’
‘Twenty-seven million. Thereabouts. I’ve invested most of it. It means that the stable will be secure for the rest of my life, even if it turns out I’m a hopeless trainer.’
‘You’re not a hopeless trainer,’ Fliss replied automatically. ‘You’re going to win the Derby.’
Just because Fliss said it didn’t mean it was true. But Luke felt warm inside at the thought she believed in him. He leaned down, turning Fliss to face him, and kissed her gratefully.
Gratitude turned inevitably to heat and the whole thing took a lot longer than he had intended. His coffee was stone cold by the time he picked up the mug. Fliss took it from him, emptied it into the sink and set about making him a fresh one.
‘Luke?’
‘Mm?’ He’d picked up the newspaper and automatically started skimming the racing pages.
‘Is your mother happy now?’
‘I wouldn’t know.’
Fliss didn’t say anything. She didn’t know how to help. Her own father had walked out before she was born. Until now, she hadn’t realised that might have been better than the alternative. If he’d stayed, there was still no guarantee that Fliss would have had the storybook happy family she’d once dreamed of. More likely, her childhood would have been as miserable as Luke’s.
‘Sorry,’ Luke said when she brought his coffee over. ‘I didn’t mean to land all that on you.’
‘I’m not your mother, Luke,’ Fliss said softly.
‘I know that.’
‘I’m happy here.’
Luke put down the paper and took hold of her hand. ‘Are you?’
Fliss met his gaze. ‘Oh, yes.’
‘Then will you think about staying? Not forever,’ he rushed on, before she had a chance to refuse. ‘Another six weeks?’
It would be so easy to say yes. So easy to fall into this life that Luke was offering her. To believe it could be real. That it could last.
But Luke was proof that fairytales were never real. The façade always hid something much worse.
‘Just until the end of the summer,’ he was saying. ‘Then you could start your course, or go travelling or whatever. Will you think about it?’
Slowly, she nodded. ‘I’ll take today and tomorrow off. And I promise, I’ll think about it.’
Luke picked up his credit card and silently offered it to Fliss.
She shook her head. ‘Thanks, but no thanks.’
Chapter Eight
Scarlet silk slithered over Fliss's head and down her body, covering her lacy black underwear. She’d had her chestnut hair dyed to give it more of a deep auburn tint that made a dramatic statement against the clashing red of the dress. Jet black jewellery added a note of sophistication and she had splashed out on a stunning pair of black high heeled sandals with bright scarlet soles that showed as she walked.
Fliss had blown over half her winnings from the race on tonight’s outfit. She had one goal in mind: to render Luke speechless at first sight, and then again when she took it off.
She squirted perfume on her wrists and neck, then down her cleavage and behind her knees. The hairdresser had twisted her curls up into a loose knot, careful to leave enough tendrils falling down her face to tempt Luke into touching, tucking, stroking her. Tonight was all about seduction and no detail had been left to chance.
Finally she drew a black sequinned stole over her elbows, picked up her bag and went downstairs.
One glance at Luke’s face and she knew she’d hit the mark. It was a good job he had ordered a taxi because he was in no fit state to drive with his jaw trailing on the floor and his eyes fixed on her cleavage..
She paused halfway down the stairs and smiled at him.
‘You scrub up well.’ Indeed he did in his understated dinner suit and black handtied bow tie. ‘Like James Bond.’
‘So do you,’ he said, dragging his eyes up to her face with an obvious effort. ‘Like Jessica Rabbit.’
Fliss laughed. ‘Is that meant to be a compliment?’
‘Yes. Though I’m not sure you should be allowed out in that dress.’
Fliss let her eyes widen in mock innocence. ‘Why not?’
‘It doesn’t hide very much, does it?’
She descended the last few steps and leaned close. ‘If you’re lucky, Luke Caldecott, I’ll show you exactly what it’s hiding. Later.’
He drew in a shaky breath. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
She was doing it deliberately, Luke decided. Touching people's arms, brushing kisses to their cheeks, batting her eyelashes and teasing with her lips and eyes. Flirting came as naturally as breathing to Felicity Merrick. Luke took a deep breath and told himself that it didn't mean anything. She was only teasing him. There was no way she thought she was going home with any other man tonight. Even if she was determined to dance with every other man in the room.
He turned away and made a concerted effort to concentrate on what Sheikh Hamdan was saying to him. Networking. That was what these events were about. Making contacts. Smiling politely, shaking hands, issuing invitations, bringing in the owners who would fill his stables in years to come.
Sheikh Hamdan paused and waited for Luke to make a response. Luke had absolutely no idea what the question was. In the corner of his eye he could see Fliss's scarlet dress flashing behind a pillar.
He smiled apologetically at the sheikh. 'Will you excuse me for a moment?'
A crowded dance floor took longer to negotiate than he had anticipated. By the time Luke reached the pillar, there was no sign of Fliss. He ground his teeth. Was he going to have to play hide and seek with her all night?
'Looking for someone?'
He turned on his heel. He knew that deliberately slow, husky voice. She thought it was sexy but Luke had long since got over the all-too obvious charms of Antonia de Courcy.
'Yes,' he replied curtly.
'The curvy redhead in the dress that's two sizes too small?'
He glared at her. 'If you mean Fliss, then you’d better not speak of her like that again.'
Antonia raised her eyebrows slowly and deliberately. 'Oh, sweet boy, you have got it bad.'
Luke curled his hands into fists. 'Do you know where she is, or not?'
'You know, she's really not your type.'
'How would you know?' Luke stepped away, scanning the room again for Fl
iss.
'Oh, I'd know.' Antonia was behind him now, wrapping her arms around his waist and letting one hand stray meaningfully to his groin.
'As I recall,' Luke enunciated carefully, 'we were both happy when that ended.' He placed his hands over hers and removed them from his body.
'Hmmm?' Antonia's mouth was close to his ear. 'I remember it differently, darling.'
'I must admit, I rarely remember it at all.' Luke pulled away, dropping her hands deliberately. 'This game's over, Antonia. Find another mug to pick up your bills.'
'While you pick up hers?'
He paused. 'Actually, she pays her own way. It makes a refreshing change, I find.'
'Luke?'
Fliss had appeared from somewhere and was looking up at him curiously. Thank God. 'Dance with me,' he ordered, setting her glass of champagne down on a nearby table and leading her onto the dance floor.
'I thought you didn't dance,' she teased.
Luke pulled her into his arms and held her close, vaguely swaying in time to the music. 'I don't. This isn't dancing, this is an escape manouevre.'
'Is she your ex?'
Luke let out a long breath. 'Very ex. Two years ago. More. I don't remember exactly.'
'She does, though.'
Luke gave her a questioning look. 'Were you listening to all of that?'
'No. But I've met her before.'
'Where?'
'At the races. She was the one who told me about your millions.'
'Ah.'
'She seemed to think it was only a matter of time before you came to your senses and took up with her again.'
Luke twirled Fliss away and then sharply back into him. 'She's wrong.'
'You could if you wanted,' she pointed out. 'Any time after next week.'
Luke stopped dead in the middle of the dance floor. He took Fliss's face in his hands and looked deeply into her eyes.
'That,' he informed her, speaking slowly and clearly over the loud beat of the music, 'is quite possibly the most ridiculous thing you have ever said.'
Then he kissed her. Hard. Long. Making a point. Claiming possession. Something like that. Mostly just releasing some of the desire that had been building in him for long hours since she had appeared like a vision in that dress at the top of his staircase.
Fliss was never one to shy away from public displays of affection, so when Luke kissed her in the middle of a crowded ballroom, she was more than happy to encourage him. She joined in with enthusiasm, sliding her hands under his jacket and pulling him closer against her body. There wouldn't be too many more opportunities to enjoy Luke's fabulous body. Or his incredible kisses. And if that thought sent a pang of sadness through her, it only meant she'd better make the most of it now.
Some time later, Luke pulled away. Mere millimetres but enough that there was space to speak into the air between them. 'Shall we go?' he whispered.
'Anywhere you want,' she responded.
He laughed. 'Get your bag.'
'I'll meet you at the door. Sixty seconds from now. Don't keep me waiting.'
He kissed her forehead and watched her weaving her way through the other dancers to their table. As his eyes followed her, he noticed Antonia sitting on her own, her gaze fixed on him. Luke raised an eyebrow in her direction, then pointedly nodded towards Fliss. Antonia would have to find her millionaire elsewhere. Or start paying for her expensive tastes herself.
Like Fliss did. She might have a hundred pairs of designer shoes, but she’d worked and saved to pay for every one of them herself.
She was nothing like Antonia. She was nothing like his mother.
She was Fliss and she was perfect.
He still had no idea whether he could persuade her to stay for another six weeks, let alone forever. He hoped that barb against Antonia hadn’t been Fliss’s way of telling him her decision.
In the cab on the way home, Luke barely touched her. Fliss smiled to herself. This was part of his technique to teach her patience, and while it wasn't having any noticeable impact on the rest of her life, she had to admit that it really, really worked in bed. And out of it. So she didn't reach across to place her hand on his thigh. Or to curl her fingers into the ends of his hair. She didn't let her foot slide over and toy with his. Instead she leaned back against the seat and sighed pleasurably.
He made the little growling sound he always did when he was frustrated. It was probably a good thing that they didn't have far to go. Fliss reached up to take a pin out of her hair. And then another.
Luke's eyes were riveted on her as she slowly, tantalisingly, deliberately let her hair fall around her shoulders. When the last pin was out, she tipped her head back and ran her hands through her curls.
He growled again and she bit back a giggle. He was so much fun to tease. She'd miss that.
She must have drunk too many glasses of the expensive champagne on offer that evening if she'd turned sentimental. She’d had fun with Luke but she wasn’t going to miss him when it was over. That was not her style.
'When we get home,' she murmured, 'I'm going to pull that tie undone.'
'When we get home,' he responded, 'you're going to make good on your promise.'
'What promise?'
'To show me what your dress is hiding.'
'Ah, that promise. Would you like a preview?'
He swallowed hard. Automatically his hands went to his neck and dragged at his collar to give him more air to breathe.
'I'll take that as a yes.' Fliss leaned down and untied her sandals. Then she reached under her dress for something.
Luke's throat went absolutely dry as he visualised where her hands were going, remembered how soft the skin was on that part of her body, decided exactly what he was going to do with her when they finally had some privacy.
'Here.'
She dropped something black and lacy on his lap. It took a moment to register that it wasn't knickers but a garter belt.
'Are you wearing stockings?' She was going to be the death of him. Black lacy underwear. Garter belts. Seducing him in the back of a minicab.
She grinned. 'Wait and see.'
It was a sight worth waiting for. Worth waiting a lifetime for, Luke thought, when he finally had her where he wanted her, sprawled across his bed, their clothes abandoned on the floor. Creamy soft skin, deep red curly hair, bright tawny gold eyes, all wrapped up in black lace. For him.
He picked up one of Fliss’s feet, circling her ankle with his thumb and finger. The silk slid softly under his touch, tempting his hand upwards. Luke traced every delectable curve, pressing soft butterfly kisses through the thin stockings. And then he reached his goal: the pale, creamy naked skin of Fliss’s inner thigh. He pressed his lips against her soft warm flesh and traced delicate swirls with his tongue. Every shudder, every sigh, every squirm of her body underneath his shot his desire into higher and higher orbit. Calling on the last ounce of his self-control, Luke forced himself to take things slowly. He planned to eke every drop of pleasure out of this evening and he wasn’t going to let his gorgeous, impatient temptress rush them on to the end.
Finally, he pushed her too far and she snapped. Fliss drew herself upright, taking Luke by surprise. She leaned him down onto the bed and straddled him, her eyes gleaming wickedly. Now that she was in control, things were about to speed up.
Luke watched her reach behind her back to unhook her bra. She winked at him when she let it slide off, then tossed the black lacy garment at him. He grinned, but dropped the bra on the floor.
‘Knickers?’ he suggested. ‘You could leave the stockings on.’
She laughed. ‘If that’s what turns you on.’
Luke’s gaze narrowed. ‘You turn me on.’
‘Good to know.’
‘Can’t you tell?’
Fliss wriggled against him, dragging a deep groan out of Luke. ‘So I do.’
‘Fliss,’ he said in warning tones.
‘Oh, you can give it but you can’t take it?’
&nb
sp; Luke growled, driven over the edge by her teasing. He took a firm hold of Fliss’s hips so that he could lift her up to position her over him. She shifted slightly, then slid down in one smooth move as they both sighed with pleasure.
'Damn.' Luke sat up and looked down at Fliss.
'What's the matter?' From where she was lying, the last hour or so had been more than satisfactory. She was definitely going to miss sex with Luke. Sleeping with the boss had proved to have all kinds of delightful, if addictive, benefits.
'There was something I meant to do first.'
Fliss's gaze slid across to the used condom.
Luke shook his head. 'Not that. Something I meant to say. Promise you won't think this is just some sex-induced nonsense?'
He looked so cute when he was earnest. A lock of his fair hair fell down across his eyes. Fliss resisted the impulse to brush it away for him.
'Promise. Unless it is nonsense, in which case it doesn't really matter whether it was sex-induced or not.' She grinned.
Luke raked a hand through his hair, pushing the errant lock back into place but mussing up the rest of it in the process. 'See, this is why I wanted to have this conversation before. You get all bolshie and flippant after sex.'
'And you get sentimental and soppy. So?'
He stared at her for a second, as if trying to work something out. 'Wait there,' he instructed, getting up off the bed. 'I'll be back in a second.'
Fliss dropped back onto the pillows and tried not to panic. That earnest look in Luke's eyes might not mean what she thought it did. It might be something ridiculous. Or wonderful. Or just plain fun.
Since the last time - the first time – the only time – he’d mentioned the L word, Luke hadn't given Fliss any hint that he might have meant it. They had both been equally careful to keep things light between them. He’d asked her to stay, but only for another six weeks. Another temporary arrangement.
Besides, she’d already as good as told him that she wasn’t staying. Though judging by his response to her comment, Luke hadn’t fully grasped the implications of it. Well, she would just have to tell him again, in terms so obvious even a thick-headed man couldn’t miss it.