by Maddie Jane
‘Not yet,’ she said, taking a step back to discard her tight jeans with a wiggle and then she stood before him in nothing more than her underwear and a sweet, self-conscious smile. His eyes lapped her up. Pale skin contrasted with black underwear—fairly utilitarian, with just the barest hint of lace at the edges—her arms and legs slim and toned, the skin there slightly more tanned than the white of her stomach. He reached out a hand and caressed his finger slowly downwards, following her curves, the flare of her hip. This time she didn’t push his hand away, but moved closer to stand in between his thighs, her hands brushing up gently into his hair, fingers massaging his scalp.
A thousand tingles shot through him and he closed his eyes, leaning his head back into her hands to absorb the neck-dissolving pleasure. He might’ve groaned slightly but he wasn’t sure. He pulled her towards him, his hands tight on her hips, his face drifting across her cleavage, breathing in her warm, musky scent. Her hands swept across his shoulders, pulling his T-shirt up and over his head, never stopping the circling movements that sent ripples buzzing through his veins. ‘Your hands are magic,’ he said, a lingering huskiness to his tone.
‘Your hands are naughty.’
His had wandered again; without his knowledge they’d strayed up her back, now caught in the act of undoing her bra strap. ‘My hands have no concept of slow. They find you too irresistible. Look, they’re still at it.’ Harper’s bra flicked down her arms and across the room. Luke sighed in ecstasy as her naked breasts, released from lace and underwire, bobbed before him. Irresistible, the sight of her, the scent of her, the feel of her warm body beneath his hands. He could never get enough of her.
‘God, I love you.’ The words broke from him in a hoarse whisper. He wanted her to know how much she meant to him. He wanted her to understand he’d loved her almost instantly when they met. She was all he’d ever need.
He wanted to hear her say it back.
Instead, he felt her paralysis. It pushed against him for the barest of seconds, as if he’d hit the kill switch. Even as she continued to hold him, to kiss him, there was distance between them. Distance he’d created with the shit timing of his confession. He should’ve kept his big mouth shut. Was it too late to pretend he suffered from Tourette syndrome?
All he wanted was for whatever lay frozen inside her to thaw. For love to be welcomed, embraced, and returned. Instead, it seemed his words terrified her and although he felt her heart hammering as erratically as before he spoke, he saw the anxiety she tried to hide flickering in her eyes.
The knowledge dulled the pleasure that coursed through him even as they continued in the physical act of giving and receiving; even as his body shuddered in completion. He lay with her in his arms, breathing heavily, damp and sated, but assaulted by a bitter dismay that of the two people in this bed, only one was committed to this relationship.
Chapter 14
‘You’re sure you don’t want to meet for lunch today? I’m going to be on your side of town about then,’ said Annie.
Harper shook her head as if Annie could see her down the phone. ‘Sorry, I’ve only got a couple more days with this class and we’ve still got loads to get through. I need every minute I’ve got to stay ahead of everyone. They’ve proved a really keen bunch.’
And staying ahead of anything right now was almost impossible. Thoughts of Luke kept intruding. Popping up at impossible times. Replays running through her head like crazy video clips on an endless loop.
God, I love you.
His words were out there now and it changed things between them.
She’d hidden her shock, determined he wouldn’t see her succumb to the old fears and inadequacies. But they were too ingrained to let her believe him, just because he said so.
She’d scrunched her eyes shut to avoid the heartbreaking tenderness in his gaze and twisted into his arms, feeling her way with feverish hands and lips, drowning her fears and his words, locking her legs tightly around him and dragging him with her to an explosive release.
Harper closed her eyes. Remembered how afterwards they’d held each other and she’d nestled into him, the length of her nakedness against him. There but not there. Barely sleeping a wink all night and aware that Luke tossed restlessly beside her.
Her hand gripped the telephone.
‘Harper? Are you still there?’ Annie. Harper’s mind raced to catch up.
‘Are you going to take a holiday soon? It’s over halfway through the summer and you haven’t been to the beach once,’ said Annie.
‘More importantly, it’s over halfway through the summer and I still don’t have a plan for the year. I’ve got a classroom full of enthusiastic women, wobbly bench seats, and a few extra dollars in my pocket—hardly enough to build a future on.’
Much like Luke’s blurted expression of love … yet something deep inside her fought to believe it was true.
She stood with the phone in her hand long after Annie rung off, staring out the window at her newly stacked firewood. She was still standing there when the phone rang again, jolting her from her reverie. An unknown number flashed up.
‘DIY Divas, Harper speaking.’
‘Hello Harper. This is Cathy George from Cliff King’s office at King of the Castle.’
Harper’s mind went blank for a second before revving into overdrive. Cathy George from Cliff King’s office. Her heart pounded in her chest and her hand shook slightly as she reached across the kitchen bench for a pad and pen. They’d read her brochures, seen her proposal and taken her idea seriously!
She did a little fist pump in the air before taking a deep breath.
Professional voice, professional attitude. She took another deep breath, hanging on Cathy’s every word.
‘—calling to set up a meeting between yourself and Mr King. He can see you next Tuesday at three o’clock at his offices.’
‘That’s great, thank you.’ Harper’s feet wanted to dance. ‘How long is the meeting?’
‘You have thirty minutes.’ Use them wisely. The unsaid words echoed down the phone at Harper.
‘Thank you so much for returning my call and giving me this opportunity. I really appreciate it,’ she said.
‘Don’t thank me. Thank Mr Colton. He’s the one who persuaded Mr King to see you.’
‘Mr Colton? Luke Colton?’ Harper’s hand clenched the phone, pressing it hard against her ear. ‘Did you say Luke Colton persuaded Mr King to see me?’
‘Persuaded. Engineered. Pulled strings. Something like that. Anyway, see you on Tuesday at three.’ Click. Harper was left standing at her kitchen counter, phone in hand, her mouth hanging open.
What just happened? One hand pressed against her stomach where a lead weight had taken up residence. The other hand, palm sweating, shook slightly as she dialled Luke’s number. It rang for a long time, the dial tone drowned out by the pounding in her ears.
‘Harper?’ Luke’s deep voice, warm and familiar sent a ripple of longing through her. She fought against it, hardening her heart.
‘I had a call from Cliff King’s assistant, teeing up a meeting. She said you’d pulled some strings on my behalf. Is that right?’ She hadn’t realised until she said the words aloud how much she hoped it wasn’t true, that Cathy had made a mistake.
‘I told you the day we met at King of the Castle I knew the owner. I used to play rugby with his son—’
‘But did you wrangle a meeting for me? I need to know.’ She snapped at him through gritted teeth. Please say no.
‘Yes. What’s this all about Harper? I thought you wanted to meet with him. You were so disappointed he’d cancelled on you. I wanted to make sure he didn’t do it again or that he didn’t fob you off to one of his underlings.’
‘So you what, bought him a drink? Promised him a great deal? Slapped each other on the back and congratulated each other on your importance? How do these things work, exactly?’
There was a hefty silence from Luke’s end of the phone. Followed by an audible exha
lation of breath. Luke spoke quietly now. ‘I thought I was helping you out. It’s what people do in business.’ Even through her anger, Harper felt the chill down the phone. ‘It’s called networking.’
‘I can do my own networking, thanks.’ What was she saying? She had no contacts and wouldn’t know a network if it sat on her face.
‘Seems you’re quite the one-woman success story.’ There was a cold edge to his voice now. ‘Hope you don’t find it too lonely at the top.’ And he was gone.
Lonely at the top? She’d deal with that when she made it to the top.
And she would make it, but not because Luke Colton had done a bit of back slapping over drinks at the old boys’ club.
She’d make it on her own. On her merits. Harper loosened her grip on the phone and placed it carefully down on the benchtop, shaking her fingers out to relax her tense hands. She closed her eyes and made an effort to roll the tension out of her neck and shoulders. How dare Luke do this to her! Belittling her efforts and accomplishments by stepping in and taking over. She’d never once asked for his help and he had no right to interfere.
More than anything, this confirmed how different they were. This proved he didn’t know her at all. If he understood her—if he loved her—he’d never have gone behind her back to talk to King, to poke his nose into her business. How could he think she’d be happy to get ahead riding on someone else’s coattails?
Stuff him. Stuff them all. She wouldn’t go to the meeting. Cliff King could sit there and wait for her the way he’d made her wait for him. She didn’t want to do business with someone who didn’t take her seriously, someone who hadn’t bothered to show up the first time and was only seeing her now because another man had twisted his arm.
***
Luke checked his watch for the thousandth time. He sweltered, stuck in the truck after leaving his office way too early for the drive across town to pick his mother and Joan up from their last DIY class. He turned up the aircon power until it belted out cold air. Now it was too cold, but there was no way in hell he wanted to get out of the truck and walk into that classroom.
Ten minutes later he took another look at his watch. Where were they? Class had finished now, damn it.
He’d spent the morning at work, looking over a new contract, talking to his lawyers and interviewing a possible new recruit for the senior management team. It felt good to be busy and to have something constructive to do to take his mind off Harper.
Harper. He tried not to think about her. But when she’d phoned him, his hopes had leapt sky high, only to crash as she chewed his ear off about the King thing.
Harper should be thanking him, not going ballistic he’d made her life easier.
‘Where are they?’ Luke growled aloud. He looked at his watch and switched off the engine. He had a meeting back at his office in forty-five minutes and he wasn’t in the mood to muck about. He got out, shoved his keys into his pocket and strode into the community centre. His footsteps echoed down the empty hallway as he stomped along the wooden floor towards Harper’s classroom. At the door he paused, loitering, his hand jingling his keys in the front pocket of his jeans.
Last time ever, he thought, as he took a deep breath and pushed the door open.
Inside was carnage. It had been a few days since he’d entered the classroom and one side of the room had a couple of completed bench seats pushed against the wall. On the other side, the A-frames were set up for wallpapering practice, a ladder off to the side. Joan and Shelia were here, enthusiastically slapping paste on the wallpaper. Neither one looked as if she intended to go home any time soon.
He tried to catch his mother’s eye, but as fate would have it, it was Harper’s gaze who met his; her big brown eyes narrowing at the sight of him. She stopped what she was doing and made her way over.
They stood silently for a bit; he not trusting himself to speak, Harper with her jaw clamped tightly shut. He fought his overwhelming need to pull her into his arms and kiss some sense into her. Powerless to resist the appeal of her DIY ‘uniform’ of white T-shirt, faded jeans, leather boots—even accessorised with a nail gun pointed straight at his heart.
‘I thought class had finished,’ he said, with a tight shrug of his shoulders.
‘Last day. They don’t seem to want to leave, so I said they could do one final activity.’ She fiddled with the nail gun.
Luke held his ground, pretending to observe the activity around him as he searched for something to say. ‘When’s your meeting with Mr King?’
Harper’s eyebrows rocketed up her face. ‘I can’t believe you brought that up here.’
Neither could he. His Tourette’s again. But now that he had, the floodgates opened and it seemed as good a time as any to let rip. Hell, it might be the last chance he got to speak to her again. The words hissed out of him, aware of the women in the classroom going about their business.
‘I called Cliff King because I know him well—well enough to know he wouldn’t have called you back for months and maybe not even then if you’d left it up to him. I didn’t tell you because I thought it would make a great surprise.’
‘I was surprised all right. Surprised it didn’t occur to you that I’d want to run my business my way. It’s irrelevant now, anyway. I’ve decided not to go to the meeting.’ Harper had put the nail gun down and stood with her hands on her hips. She tossed her head.
‘You’re kidding.’ Filled with dismay, Luke took a step forward. ‘You’ve got the meeting, you have to go. You won’t get another chance to wow him. You should try to see it from a different angle.’ He reached out to her but conscious of curious glances from the students, pulled away again.
‘I refuse to work for someone who does business that way.’
‘What way’s that? The successful way?’
‘The boys’ club way. No girls allowed.’ Harper’s voice rasped at him, as she shot a look at her class. Over the other side of the room Luke saw Shelia moving the ladder closer to the A-frame but turned his attention back to Harper. ‘So,’ she said, her eyes blazing, ‘I’m not going. I’ll save my presentation for someone more deserving.’
He’d have laughed at her naiveté if he wasn’t so damned angry with her. ‘That’s just chopping off your nose to spite your face. Tell me you’re not going to do that, just to get back at me.’
‘It’s got nothing to do with you. Why would it have anything to do with you?’
‘Because you can’t even look me in the eye. I’m up here, Harper, not in your boots.’ He stared at the top of her beautiful, difficult head. Her hair was glossy and he remembered how soft it felt beneath his fingers. She lifted her head and glared at him, opened her mouth to speak and was drowned out by a shriek from the other side of the room.
Luke’s gaze darted towards the source of the sound and for a second he froze, his blood pounding in his ears. ‘Mum!’ His voice was a roar as he lunged across the room, pushing his way forwards, panic rising at the sight of an overturned ladder.
His mind flooded with the memory of crimson drenching the ground around a too-still body, the sound of an ambulance siren arriving too late, the taste of bile choking his throat. With his heart slamming violently in his chest he pushed his way to where his mother lay on the floor. In desperation his shaking hands found her throat and groped for her pulse point under the back of her jaw.
Shelia groaned—thank God—batting his hand away as she tried to sit up. ‘I’m not dead.’ She winced, jerking away as he patted her down for injuries. ‘Ouch,’ she squeaked. ‘My arm.’ She sat on the floor on a bed of ripped and crumpled wallpaper, her face pale, cradling her left arm. ‘I think I’ve broken my arm.’
Hot, pent-up anger ripped through Luke. Black spots danced before his eyes. Beside him Harper was making soothing noises to Shelia as she helped her to her feet and onto a chair. ‘There’s a first aid cabinet in the storeroom. Could someone please get Shelia a glass of water,’ she said. Joan put the ladder to rights and another woman he di
dn’t know started clearing away the wallpaper.
How could they all be so calm? His words shot out of him. ‘This is all your fault, Harper.’ He saw her gasp, her eyes widen. ‘This would never have happened if you’d listened to me. I said you needed extra help here or someone would get hurt and I was right.’
‘I’m so sorry.’ Harper’s hands shook as she passed the water glass to Shelia, spilling several drops, which landed on the paste-covered floor.
Shelia looked shocked even through her pain. ‘Luke, that’s enough.’
‘No,’ he said. ‘I’ve stood here for weeks and thought Harper was stretched too thin. She’s been a disaster waiting to happen, all because she’s too proud to ask for help. She’s independent to the point of dangerous and she thinks she can do everything herself. Well, she’s just been proved wrong.’ Luke knelt down beside his mother’s chair and gently took the water glass out of her hand and placed it on the floor. ‘Are you okay to stand now? I’m driving you to the hospital.’
A white-faced Harper peered at Shelia from the other side of the chair. ‘I’m coming too, just to make sure you’re all right.’
‘No you’re not,’ said Luke. ‘You’re not going near her. Joan, take Mum’s other arm, we’re going now.’ Without a backwards glance at Harper, Luke led his mother and aunt towards the door, his arm wrapped around his mother, instinctively protecting her injured limb. The people in his life were all that mattered to him. He’d wanted Harper to be one of them but she’d made it clear she didn’t want anything he had to give.
The classroom echoed with their footsteps as they made their way past the stunned and silent women who’d been Shelia and Joan’s classmates for the last couple of weeks. Several of them shot him puzzled looks, but he ignored them, disregarded Harper’s apparent distress and focused on his mother.
Chapter 15