’Don’t be such a cynic, Luke,’. Rachel admonished impatiently before turning back to Leonie. ‘Do you see a lot of your family?’ she asked interestedly.
She grimaced. ‘Not as much as I should, I’m afraid. My grandfather is wonderful, but—I’m hesitant to make the universal cry of “my parents don’t understand me"—!’ She felt, and looked, rather embarrassed; she was sure Rachel and Luke weren’t in the least interested in her relationship with the rest of her family, that Rachel’s initial enquiry had merely been a politeness.
‘Even if it’s true?’ Rachel said shrewdly. ‘Luke and I have always had the closest of relationships—yes, we have, you irritating boy,’ she reproved lightly as Luke gave a disbelieving snort.
‘I don’t think you were of the same opinion the time I took a couple of years out from our relationship,’ he reminded dryly.
‘You were twenty-five, and rebelling against—well, against everything really,’ Rachel acknowledged indulgently. ‘Besides, it did you the world of good to stand on your own two feet for a while. He did the equivalent of “starving in a garret” for two years, just to prove he could do it,’ she confided in Leonie.
Obviously this was the time that Luke had claimed he hadn’t lived with that ‘silver spoon’ in his life. Although taking ‘a couple of years out’ of their relationship must have been very hard on Rachel…
‘And could he?’ Leonie couldn’t resist asking.
‘Of course,’ Rachel answered ruefully. ‘He wrote a successful screenplay, and scooped an Oscar, before deciding that being my son wasn’t so bad, after all.’
‘There was never anything wrong with being your son—’ Luke began harshly.
’Darling,’ Rachel cut in firmly, ‘we really shouldn’t air our dirty laundry in front of Leonie in this way.’
‘Why the hell not?’ he rasped. ‘After all—’
‘This smoked salmon is absolutely gorgeous; how are your prawns?’ Rachel prompted Leonie brightly.
‘The same,’ she answered a little dazedly, totally thrown by how intense the conversation had suddenly become between mother and son.
‘I was about to say, Rachel,’ Luke continued determinedly, ‘that as Leonie is writing your biography, it may be as well if she knows your life hasn’t always been one of champagne and roses. And, if anyone is interested, my escargot are excellent!’ he added with obvious impatience.
Leonie found herself slightly resenting the fact that he might have thought she had assumed any such thing; after all, although Rachel made light of it, it really couldn’t have been all that easy for her to continue smiling through single-parenthood all those years.
But that resentment faded as Rachel caught her eye, repressed laughter twinkling in merry green eyes. At Luke’s expense, Leonie realised; he really had sounded like a rather truculent little boy who didn’t like being left out of the conversation!
Rachel was the first to laugh, quickly followed by Leonie, and then—surprise, surprise—Luke began to chuckle throatily too.
‘Okay, okay.’ He held up his hands defensively. ‘I admit my conversation was far too serious while we’re eating. But the escargot really is excellent,’ he added self-derisively. ‘Would you like to try one, Leonie?’ He held up his fork, with the snail firmly speared on the prongs, enticingly in front of her.
No, she would not. Snails, even cooked in garlic to hide the fact that was what they were, had never appealed to her. But, then…she didn’t doubt that Luke already knew that—which was the precise reason he was offering her one!
She held his gaze for several seconds, knowing he had turned his laughter around on her. They would see about that!
She leant forward slightly, delicately taking the snail off the fork with her teeth, chewing once, before swallowing hard. Thankfully, she could taste nothing other than the garlic. Although her stomach rebelled slightly at the fact that her brain knew precisely what she had just eaten.
‘Wonderful,’ she said with complete—and obvious—insincerity.
Luke arched darkly mocking brows. ‘Like another one?’
‘No, thank you,’ she assured him primly before turning to Rachel. A Rachel who had been watching the exchange with amused green eyes… ‘I really am sorry about the weekend.’ Leonie deliberately changed the subject. ‘But it will give me a chance this next week to read through the diaries.’
‘Make sure you’re alone when you do,’ Luke advised dryly, continuing to eat his snails himself. ‘My mother assures me she had an uproarious time when she first went to Hollywood, and I would hate for anyone to see your blushes!’
‘Of course I will be alone when I read them,’ Leonie answered tartly. ‘As I have assured Rachel, anything she gives me, or tells me, is completely in confidence at this stage.’ Although she knew Luke had been half joking in his remark, there had been an underlying element of seriousness in the warning, and she deeply resented the fact that he might doubt her integrity.
‘What about later?’ Luke challenged, confirming that he had indeed been serious in his warning. ‘Can Rachel rely on your—discretion, if you should read or discover anything she would rather didn’t go into the book?’
‘Of course.’ Leonie gave up all idea of finishing her first course, placing her knife and fork down beside the half-eaten food as she met Luke’s hard gaze unflinchingly. ‘This is, after all, Rachel’s book; I’m merely the person filling in the blanks.’
‘You—’
‘Darling, I trust Leonie implicitly,’ Rachel assured her son huskily, giving Leonie a reassuring smile before turning back to Luke. ‘Let’s just enjoy our meal, hmm,’ she encouraged him lightly.
Which, on the surface of things, was exactly what the three of them did during the next couple of hours, the conversation becoming more general after that. But that Luke still didn’t trust Leonie, or this biography, was more than obvious. To her, at least…
But she was also well aware that there was nothing she could do or say at this stage that would reassure him. Only the fullness of time, and the finished biography, would be able to do that…
* * *
’Thank you for these,’ Leonie told Rachel in the hotel suite three hours later as she prepared to take her leave, the briefcase full of diaries held securely in her hand. ‘I promise I’ll take very good care of them,’ she added for the benefit of the brooding Luke as he stood across the room watching them with enigmatic green eyes.
‘I’ll drive you home,’ he offered abruptly even as he moved to join her by the door.
’I drove myself here,’ Leonie instantly refused; she had been very conscious of the fact that she had driven here in her own car this evening, refusing any more champagne after that first glass, to move on to mineral water. A fact Luke, she was sure, was well aware of; not much was missed by that razor-sharp gaze.
‘In that case, I’ll walk you down to your car,’ he insisted firmly. ‘It’s almost midnight,’ he rasped as she would have refused a second time.
‘I am not Cinderella!’ Leonie snapped back resentfully, fully aware that she was going to lose this particular argument—but refusing to do it gracefully. As far as she was concerned, Luke was far too keen on having his own way!
‘And I’m not Prince Charming!’ Luke came back as sharply.
Leonie turned to look at Rachel as the older woman gave a choking sound, her own sense of humour returning as she saw the laughter glowing in those bright green eyes, Rachel obviously trying very hard to stop herself from laughing.
It was a battle she was destined to lose!
In fact, Rachel laughed so long and so hard, there were tears streaming down her face, and she had to put a hand on the wall to support herself.
‘Was it something I said?’ Luke mused dryly as Leonie also began to laugh.
‘Oh, Luke!’ Rachel reached up to cradle his face in both her hands. ‘You are priceless!’ She kissed him warmly on both cheeks.
‘But certainly not Prince Charming!’ Leonie chuckled.
‘No,’ Rachel agreed wryly. ‘But he has been the love of my life for the last thirty-seven years,’ she added seriously, that love shining brightly in her eyes now as she looked proudly up at her son she so obviously adored. ‘There have been so many times when I don’t know what I would have done without him.’
Leonie shifted uncomfortably, feeling like an intruder, as if Rachel’s conversation were for Luke alone. As, indeed, she was sure it was…
Luke returned his mother’s gaze intently, searchingly. ‘The feeling is reciprocated,’ he told her huskily.
Rachel held his gaze for several long seconds before stepping back, smiling brightly. ‘Run along now, darlings; some of us need our beauty sleep if we have to start filming in three weeks’ time; television can be just too honest at times!’ She was once again the glamorously assured actress who had ruled screen and stage for over fifty years.
‘You’re already far too beautiful to play Elizabeth the first,’ Luke assured her. ‘From all accounts she had a face like the back end of a bus!’
Rachel laughed softly. ‘Not when I play her, darling,’ she drawled dryly.
Luke smiled. ‘Probably not. I’ll call you tomorrow, hmm?’ he added gently.
‘Fine.’ Rachel nodded dismissively before turning to Leonie. ‘Have a lovely time at your parents’ party tomorrow evening,’ she said warmly.
Leonie shot Luke a questioning look as he took the briefcase from her hand as they walked down the hotel corridor together towards the lift, but she could read nothing of his thoughts from his grim expression.
‘My car is just parked outside,’ she told him huskily as they stepped out into the reception area together, moving to reclaim the briefcase.
’I said I’ll walk you to your car,’ he bit out tersely.
‘Luke—’
‘Independence in a woman is admirable,’ he rasped harshly. ‘Stubborn stupidity is something else entirely!’
Leonie felt the two wings of angry, embarrassed colour that instantly warmed her cheeks—and she wasn’t sure which emotion was predominant!
Luke looked down at her with mockingly raised brows. ‘Silence in a woman is also something to be admired,’ he drawled derisively.
She glared at him, glad she had worn the high-heeled sandals now as she found herself only a few inches shorter than Luke’s own considerable height. On her evenings out with Jeremy, only five feet ten himself, she always wore flatter-heeled shoes so that she didn’t tower over him; but there was no danger of that with Luke. And with this man, she had quickly learnt, she needed every advantage she could get!
She drew in a harsh breath. ‘You—’
‘Even when it never lasts very long,’ he added dryly, those green eyes openly laughing at her now.
Was there any way to win a verbal battle with this man? Leonie wondered as she turned and strode forcefully towards the revolving door that led out of the hotel, all the time aware that Luke was following behind her at a much more leisurely pace. She had tried returning sarcasm with sarcasm, reasoning with him, or just ignoring his taunts, but somehow she didn’t feel she had emerged the victor in any of these encounters.
Whether it was just lack of attention because of her angry preoccupation with Luke, or the unaccustomed high heels on her sandals, Leonie was never afterwards sure. All she was aware of was completely losing her balance, of Luke’s cry of alarm as she pitched sideways, before falling hard onto the pavement outside, the sudden pain in her left ankle making her feel sick.
‘What the—?’ Luke was at her side in seconds, the doorman quickly joining him, both men endeavouring to raise Leonie to a sitting position.
The shock of finding herself on the pavement instead of on her own two feet was quickly receding, embarrassment quickly taking its place. ‘I’m fine.’ She pushed away their supporting hands feeling utterly foolish as several other people, in the process of leaving the hotel, turned to stare at her. It was obvious from their amused or disgusted glances that they were attributing her prostration to something other than a mere fall! ‘Really,’ she assured the two men tartly, attempting to get back onto her feet unaided.
Luke, as she might have known, refused to be dismissed, his arm about her waist as he helped her to stand up.
In truth, Leonie was grateful for his help, her left ankle proving extremely painful when she attempted to put any weight on it.
‘Lean on me,’ he ordered grimly, his arm like a steel band about her waist as she had no other choice than to do exactly that, her left ankle unable to support her for the moment.
‘How stupid of me,’ Leonie muttered angrily.
‘I’ll order a taxi for you,’ the doorman offered worriedly.
‘I—’
‘We have our car here,’ Luke arrogantly assured the other man, looking across to where Leonie’s car was conspicuously parked beside the hotel. ‘Perhaps if you could carry the briefcase for me…?’ he added less harshly, bending down to easily lift Leonie up into his arms.
‘Of course, sir.’ The doorman was only too happy to oblige.
He probably wanted to get her off the forecourt of the hotel, Leonie acknowledged self-disgustedly as Luke walked along with her in his arms as if she weighed nothing at all, unable to even glance at him in her acute embarrassment.
‘Thanks,’ Luke tersely dismissed the other man once they had reached the car and he was able to put Leonie down, holding out his hand now for Leonie to give him her car keys. ‘I’m driving,’ he announced in a tone that brooked absolutely no argument.
Leonie, leaning on the bonnet of the car, looked at the car and then back to Luke. ‘You’ll never fit in it,’ she said doubtfully.
‘I will with the roof down,’ he assured her dryly, unlocking the car with the keys she had given him. ‘I had the older model of this car when I was a student,’ he added dryly as Leonie continued to look sceptical. ‘It will be a bit breezy with the roof down, but I will fit in. Besides,’ he added as she would have continued to argue, ‘I doubt you’re capable of driving yourself…?’
She wasn’t. They both knew that she wasn’t. But even so… ‘I could always get a taxi home,’ she told him stubbornly.
‘You aren’t going straight home,’ Luke said grimly even as he opened the passenger door and helped her to get inside. ‘You need to have that ankle X-rayed—’
‘It’s only sprained—’
‘I thought your doctorate was in History?’ Luke challenged as he straightened.
Her mouth firmed as she instantly got his point. ‘It is. But—’
‘I’m sure you’re right about the sprain, Leonie.’ Luke’s voice had gentled as he deftly dealt with putting the roof down and sliding the driver’s seat all the way back so that it would accommodate his length. ‘But I don’t think it will do any harm to have it X-rayed, anyway. Okay?’ He turned to her, having, as he had claimed he could, managed to get in behind the wheel of her car.
‘Okay,’ she agreed unhappily, knowing, with Luke behind the driving wheel, that she didn’t have any choice in where he chose to take her. In fact, she was surprised he had bothered to consult her at all!
‘Cheer up, Leonie; I’m really quite a good driver!’ He reached over and squeezed her hand reassuringly, before turning on the ignition, putting the car in gear, and driving them away from the hotel.
He was enjoying himself, Leonie realised after a few minutes, watching him surreptitiously beneath lowered lashes; his eyes gleamed with pleasure, a wolfish grin curving those sculptured lips as he manoeuvred the little car in and out of the traffic.
He was also right about it being ‘a bit breezy’, Leonie acknowledged with a shiver, desperately trying to sink down lower in the seat so that she didn’t feel so much of the cold wind whistling about her bare shoulders. After all, it was only May. May in England to boot.
‘Are you cold?’ Luke glanced at her, seeming to sense her discomfort, not even waiting for her answer before pulling the car over to the side
of the road, completely unconcerned by the other drivers as a couple of them tooted their car horns at them. ‘Here.’ He began to shrug out of his jacket.
‘I couldn’t—’
‘I thought we had already discussed your unnecessary stubbornness, Leonie?’ he reminded grimly, leaning over to drape the black jacket about her shoulders. ‘There.’ He nodded his satisfaction. ‘Is that better?’
Leonie had to admit—to herself, at least!—that it was infinitely warmer snuggled inside Luke’s over-big jacket. But the black material also carried the essence of the man with it, the smell of his tangy aftershave, the warmth of his body…!
‘Now you’re going to be the one that’s cold,’ she muttered ungratefully.
‘I can take it.’ Luke shrugged dismissively, his attention distracted as he manoeuvred the car back into the flow of traffic.
The inference being that she couldn’t. But…it was much warmer enfolded in his jacket, and she would be a fool to claim otherwise. And Luke had already made his views clear on female foolishness this evening too!
Thank goodness she wouldn’t be seeing any more of him this weekend. She—
‘Oh, no…!’ she groaned as a sudden realisation hit her.
Luke glanced at her sharply. ‘What is it?’
‘I’ve just realised—my parents’ anniversary party tomorrow.’ She grimaced frustratedly. ‘I know it’s a surprise party, but even so, I don’t think it’s going to look very good if their only child isn’t even there!’
‘Of course you’ll be there,’ Luke dismissed impatiently.
Leonie turned to him frowningly, shaking her head. ‘I don’t think I’ll be able to—’
’I’ll drive you to Devon, of course,’ Luke cut in dismissively.
‘You’ll—? No.’ She gave a firm shake of her head, horrified at the suggestion. ‘I don’t think so. Thank you,’ she added belatedly.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Leonie,’ Luke told her tersely. ‘Even if that ankle isn’t broken, it’s still going to be sore for a few days. Too sore for you to be able to drive.’
Leonie’s eyes were wide at the thought of Luke driving her anywhere tomorrow, let alone to her grandfather’s house in Devon. ‘It’s very—kind, of you to offer, Luke—’ she swallowed hard as she saw the way his mouth twisted derisively at her hesitation over the word ‘kind’ being applied to him ‘—but I really don’t think that would be—’
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