"I'll have to be gentle with you." Clare cupped his cheek in her hand and stood on her toes to kiss him.
"That sort of gentle might just make me forget my injury altogether."
Clare kneeled to unlace his shoes, then helped him remove his jacket and shirt. Every time her fingers brushed his skin, her heart raced a little faster. She ached to run her hands over his body, kiss every bit of him.
His hands went to the zipper on his pants and he paused, eyebrows lifted. "How come I'm the only one getting undressed?"
"I was just enjoying the view. Anyway, I want you to undress me, darling." She stepped into his arms and linked her hands behind his neck. His lips came down on hers, firm and warm, but tentative. She had to keep reminding herself that this gorgeous man was inexperienced in love.
He soon deepened the kiss and she guessed he'd be a fast study.
His hand slipped under the hem of her T-shirt and grazed across her ribs. She pulled the shirt off over her head and shook out her hair, giggling at his expression. "Am I taking things too fast for you?"
"Is there such a thing as too fast?"
Luka's breath caught in obvious pain as he joined in her laughter.
"Careful, Luka. Sit down." He did as she said, his face tight with discomfort.
"I think I'd rather lie down."
"Trousers off first." She helped him drag the fabric over his badly bruised knees. Then he climbed into bed in his boxer briefs.
"I didn't realize how often I used my stomach muscles."
Clare toed off her sneakers and pulled down her jeans, kicking them onto a chair with Luka's jacket and trousers, then stretched out on the cool sheet beside him.
His dark gaze caressed her body and he traced a finger across her ribs and belly. "So beautiful," he said. "I wish I felt well enough to make love to you."
She pushed up on her elbow and studied his face, still not quite able to believe they were finally together and safe. His gaze flared as it settled on her mouth.
"If I'm gentle, can I kiss you?" she said.
"You need to ask?"
Careful of his wounded belly, she leaned over and kissed his chest and neck. Trailing her lips across his skin, she kissed each one of the healing cuts and bruises Monique had inflicted on him.
His breath whooshed out and she moved higher, dropping tiny kisses along his jaw until she reached his mouth. His arms came around her and he took control of the kiss, drawing her closer.
After a few minutes, she pulled back, breathless. "How are you feeling? Do you want to go to sleep now?"
He gave a little grunt of incredulity. "You can't be serious."
She tingled with expectation as his hands cruised over her back and he released the clip on her bra.
"You are everything I've dreamed of," he whispered. "Everything I could ever want, my beautiful Clare."
As his hand glided over her skin, Clare kissed him again and ran her fingers through his hair. Sensation overwhelmed her. This love was so all-consuming. She'd never dreamed of such a feeling before Luka. "Will it hurt you too much to make love to me?"
"I want you so much, I don't care about pain."
She pushed the hair off his forehead and smoothed her fingers along his brows. "Let me do the work."
"Just this time," he agreed.
She wanted to give this man she loved pleasure. He'd suffered so much over the years. This first time would be special—something they would always remember.
As she made love to him, she checked his face for any sign of discomfort. She wasn't sure if his short, catchy breaths were from arousal or pain. "Luka," she said softly. "Am I hurting you?"
"No." Their gazes locked. A moment of pure understanding passed between them—it would never feel this wonderful with anyone else. Clare let go of her tenuous control and pleasure rose up to melt her bones.
As soon as she fell back from the place of bliss, she jumped off him and kneeled at his side. His face was crumpled with pain. "We shouldn't have done it. I didn't want to hurt you," she whispered.
Luka dragged in a breath, released it slowly, and opened his eyes. "Believe me, it was worth the pain."
She settled at his side and stroked his shoulder as he drifted off. After days of missing sleep to sit by his bedside, she should have found it easy to join him in slumber, but a sense of foreboding lay heavy in her chest. Tonight was time out of time for them. Tomorrow, when Pablo realized Luka had returned, everything would change.
***
Clare woke with a start. Where Luka had lain in bed beside her was rumpled and empty. Sleepily, she sat up, rubbed her eyes, and glanced around. Early morning light flickered between the curtains as the breeze stirred them. She was alone in Luka's room and the connecting door leading to Pablo's room stood open.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed. Luka walked through the door wearing only his boxer briefs. He ran his eyes over her naked body with a smile as he grabbed a dark red robe off the back of a chair. "Sorry to disturb your beauty sleep. Pablo woke and called me."
He came to her and put his lips against her ear. "I need to speak to him alone. Is that all right, darling?"
"Of course."
"Thank you for being so understanding." He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her.
"It's obvious I'm in the way," Pablo said. The connecting door slammed.
Luka straightened, glancing over his shoulder with a curse. "He'll get used to the changes. But we must give him time."
"I know." Clare squeezed his arm. "Go after him. Make sure he's okay."
Clare watched him disappear into the adjoining room, leaving the door open. She slipped on a bathrobe and went to close the door, but instead curiosity got the better of her. She leaned a hand on the door frame and peeped around.
Luka sat on the edge of the bed, his hand rested on Pablo's shoulder.
"Luka." Pablo's voice cracked. "I thought I was helping you…all those years…" He threw his forearm over his face.
"You did help me." Luka squeezed Pablo's arm, his face a mask of distress. It was obvious he had no idea how to make the Spaniard feel better about what Monique had said.
Clare ached to help Luka and Pablo, both victims of her grandmother's spite. Caring for Luka had been Pablo's raison d'être. Luka might be the one with the cuts and bruises, but Monique had wounded Pablo as deeply. In her final minutes of life, she'd destroyed everything he believed in.
A tense silence stretched, then as if Luka had been fighting an internal battle and come to a conclusion he released a heartfelt sigh, stretched out on the bed beside Pablo, and wrapped an arm around his friend.
Luka caught sight of her and pushed up on his elbow. "It might be best if you give us some space, give Pablo time to recover. Head back to New York for a few weeks. I'm sure you've got a lot to catch up on. I'll call you."
That was it? He was sending her away? She held his eyes, looking for the same loving gaze he'd cast her way earlier. Now he just looked tired. A premonition of loss passed through her like a ghost.
Clare felt suddenly self-conscious, standing there naked beneath the robe. She stepped back and did what she should have done to start with—closed the door.
The two men had a strong bond, one formed over many years. She couldn't expect Luka to forget that. The two men were bound to need time to adjust. But how much time? Once she left, would Luka's feelings for her fade? After all, she'd only been in his life for a few weeks.
She bit her lip and willed away the tears that threatened. She'd known all along the situation between the three of them would be difficult to resolve. But maybe, just maybe… She wouldn't give up hope yet.
She went to her room, showered, and changed, determined not to make things worse by being unreasonable. She had a coffee, then went outside and took a breath of the fresh morning air.
Clare walked between the rows of grapevines down to the River Cher and sat on the same bench she'd occupied with Luka a week earlier. That memory
seemed like a lifetime ago.
She hooked her heels on the front of the bench, hugged her legs, and rested her chin on her knees. The river surged and swirled around the reeds. The last few days her mind had been occupied with thoughts of getting Luka better. Now she had to face her long-neglected responsibilities. Moray Skincare needed her attention. With both her and Edward gone, there was bound to be a heap of problems waiting for her.
Faceglo would have to be reformulated. If they were to proceed with Bodyglo, the product would need to be developed with regular ingredients. On top of that, there'd be the legal complications of Edward's disappearance. She had no idea where Moray stood now one of its shareholders was missing.
An overwhelming sense of responsibility stole her breath. A lot of people worked for Moray, their livelihoods depended on her. How had Luka run so many businesses from a distance? There must be a knack to getting others to do everything for you.
For the foreseeable future, her responsibilities lay in New York. She couldn't stay in France, even if Luka asked her to. Maybe she'd manage an occasional visit when she had time. Clare wandered back to the château, feeling sick and hollow at the reality of her life.
When she mounted the stairs to the second floor corridor, she was greeted with complete silence. She went into Luka's room and pressed her ear to the connecting door. Quietly, she turned the handle, put her head through the opening, and crept closer to the bed. The men's dark heads were side by side on the pillow, Luka's chestnut brown next to Pablo's black. Luka lay behind Pablo, his arm around him. Her heart contracted to see them. An onslaught of conflicting emotions clogged her throat and tightened her chest until she couldn't draw breath.
"Luka," she whispered.
He opened his eyes, sleepily.
"I'm leaving now."
"If there were another way." He pulled his arm from beneath the cover and reached out. "I wish I could take you to the station but I can't leave him yet."
She clutched his hand, desperate to touch him after being so long deprived of that pleasure. "I love you."
"Give me time," he whispered and glanced down at Pablo. "I will resolve matters."
"Okay." Clare bent and kissed him, memorizing the feel of his lips. As she left, a sense of loss swamped her.
With mechanical efficiency, Clare packed her bag and called a taxi on her mobile phone, then headed down the stairs and back to her life.
Chapter Nineteen
Clare stepped out of the elevator at the Moray office in New York and paced across the black marble tiles with a satisfying rap of her heels. She smiled to herself. The afternoon meeting she'd attended with the advertising agency had gone well. The schedule for relaunching Faceglo was all set. They were on track for a big push in the New Year. It had been a hectic but satisfying two months since her return from France.
She stopped outside her office and propped her briefcase between the potted ferns on her personal assistant's desk. "Anything I need to know?"
Susan looked up from her keyboard and leafed through a pile of message slips. "There was one call I thought you'd be interested in." Clare's heart did a skittish jump as it always did if she thought it might be Luka. He'd called to make sure she'd arrived home safely from France, then a week later to check her again, then nothing for six weeks. She'd tried to reach him at the château because she didn't know his mobile phone number, but he was never there. She'd begun to wonder if he were avoiding her calls.
"Anything important?" she asked, trying not to sound as desperate as she felt.
"David Goldberg." Susan glanced at her watch. "He wanted you to meet him at the Palace Hotel at four. I told him you were in a meeting and might not make it. You've only got a half hour. Do you want me to call and reschedule?"
Clare frowned. David was her attorney and she usually saw him in his office. "Did he tell you what it's about?"
"No, sorry. I did ask but he wouldn't give anything away."
The only matter he was currently handling was the sale of Edward's shares. Luckily, Monique's will had been quite specific; if Edward resigned his position at Moray, his shares reverted to Clare. David had advised her it would be prudent to sell some of the shares and spread her investments. She'd instructed him to use his contacts to discreetly put out the word and look for a buyer. Maybe he'd found one.
Clare glanced at her watch. "I should make it. Can you let him know I might be a few minutes late." She put her briefcase inside her office and strode down the corridor.
"Hold up," Susan shouted as Clare reached the elevator. The woman picked up a narrow white box, ran down the corridor, and handed it to her as the bell dinged and the doors slid open. "Looks like flowers. You must have a secret admirer."
Clare grabbed the box and checked her watch as she traveled down in the elevator. She hurried across the reception area and hailed a taxi outside the building.
Once she was on her way, she turned the shiny box over in her hands, only mildly curious. She didn't have the time or inclination to get excited about a secret admirer. She unfastened the white ribbon and eased off the lid. Five roses lay nestled among pleats of heavy white silk, beaded with freshwater pearls. Very mysterious. She couldn't think of anyone who'd send her flowers, unless…
The sun slanted down between gaps in the skyscrapers and gave the red petals a rich velvet gloss. Something inside her flexed and woke. Something she'd nearly given up on. Hope. Her mind flashed to Luka. Heart beating a hollow tattoo in her chest, she searched through the silk for a card. Nothing.
Why would he suddenly send her flowers now? And if he had, there'd be a note. She released her breath slowly and stared out at the traffic as they drove along Fifth Avenue.
The taxi double-parked beside a limousine outside the Palace. She wedged the flower box beneath her arm as she climbed out, paid the driver, and strode into the hotel.
David Goldberg was seated in the baroque splendor of the lobby on a gold velvet chair, which didn't look sturdy enough to support his weight. "Clare." He sprang up and offered his hand. "Sorry for the short notice. These guys flew in this morning and want to make a deal on your Moray shares. It was too good to pass up."
"Fine." She looked around and tapped her fingernails on the flower box, eager to get this over with. "Where are they?"
"They want us to go up to their suite." He put his hand on her back and guided her towards the elevator. "Some of these Europeans are real whackos. But they're loaded whackos. So I advise you to go for it." He patted his briefcase. "I've got their offer here and it's as good as you'll get."
A small tremor of anticipation started in Clare's stomach. Two Europeans. Was it possible? They stepped into the elevator and the doors hissed closed. She gazed at herself in the mirrored wall and checked her hair and makeup just in case. "What country in Europe, David?"
He shrugged. "Europe's a crap shoot. Can't remember." He straightened his glasses. "The guy with the money is some kind of big shot businessman. They both speak English and they've got a top New York attorney. They're definitely legit. Anyway, you'll still have the majority shareholding."
Clare's heart beat so fast she couldn't draw breath. As she stepped out of the elevator, she felt light-headed. "Which way?" she asked and had to clear the husky burr from her voice.
David pulled a note from his pocket and his chunky fingers fumbled to unfold it. He pointed along the corridor. "Near the end, I think."
Clare stroked her fingertips over the silky ribbon on the flower box as she paced along the thick carpet. If Luka was here, the roses must be from him. But why the secrecy?
They arrived at the door, and as she raised her hand to knock it opened. A room service waiter pushed a trolley out, and Clare caught the door behind him. She splayed her fingers against the white wood and took a moment to compose herself.
Luka and Pablo stood in profile against the window, framed between blue and gold drapes and silhouetted against the sea of green treetops in Central Park. Clare quivered like a newborn
lamb, unable to move. The afternoon sun picked up the chestnut highlights in Luka's hair and gilded each glossy black strand of Pablo's. Pablo had his arm around Luka's shoulders, their heads bent close as they spoke.
"Look like a couple of queers," David said softly behind her.
She hardly heard him. Her heart beat so hard it threatened to burst out of her chest. Pablo looked striking in white slacks, a navy blazer, and a horizontally striped navy and white collarless shirt. In contrast, Luka wore a classic charcoal gray suit, white shirt, and burgundy tie.
"Hi there." Clare grinned as their heads snapped around.
"Clare!" Pablo came to her first, striding across the tan carpet, all flashing white teeth and sexy grin. On unsteady legs, she walked forward and dropped the flower box on a table beside an ice bucket. He slid his hands beneath her arms, picked her up, and spun her around. "I've missed you so, mi amor."
She was relieved to find Pablo happier, and pleased to see him again, but her attention was on the man standing quietly beside them.
Pablo set her on her feet and kissed her cheek.
"You're obviously back to your normal self."
His lips quirked into a smile that was pure happiness. "Luka and I have spent weeks in Spain researching my family. I have lots of relatives in Andalusia, some in Barcelona, two in England, and five I haven't traced yet here in America." His eyes sparkled like a little boy on Christmas morning. "I have lots of family who want me to visit."
Clare reached up and patted his cheek. "They'll love you, Pablo." Clever Luka. He'd given Pablo a new direction to focus his emotions.
She gently disentangled herself from Pablo's arms and took a step towards Luka. His complexion was tanned and he looked much healthier. "You've been busy since I left."
He inclined his head. "The past is laid to rest, the future beckons us."
David Goldberg cleared his throat. Her attorney stood in the doorway, his expression curious.
"As you can tell, David, I know the two mystery Europeans."
Cursed Kiss (Paranormal Romance) Page 17