'Hello?'
'Mike?'
Even though she'd half guessed it would be Luke, the sound of the deep voice still caught her off guard, made her heart skip a painful beat.
'Are you still in the car park?'
She inclined her head.
'Are you nodding or shaking your head?' he enquired drily.
'I'm still in the car park,' she said coolly, in no mood to share the amusement in his voice.
'Good.' There was a long pause. 'We need to talk.'
'I suppose so,' she admitted reluctantly. They couldn't continue as if nothing had happened tonight. The tension between them at work tomorrow would be unendurable. 'Shall I come back over to the office?' she asked uneasily.
'No. If I see you again tonight, I'm not going to be able stop myself from making love to you.'
The blood rushed to her head and a tremor passed through her body. He didn't even have to touch her, she thought resentfully, to evoke a response from her. He could seduce her with words alone and the mental image they conjured up.
'I'm in love with you, Mike.'
'What?' she muttered incredulously. Had she heard correctly? He sounded so calm, so matter of fact, as unemotional as if he were relaying the latest weather forecast. Was this his idea of a joke? She needed to see his face, needed to see the expression in his eyes...
'You intrigued me from the start.' His voice was huskier now. 'But falling in love with you was the last thing I intended to do. I didn't even realise that I was until the day I collected you from Heathrow, and by then it was already too late to do anything about it. I was a hopeless case.'
'You realised you loved me the afternoon I was nearly sick all over you?' Mike felt a mounting hysteria.
'Who said the age of romance was dead?' he murmured and vividly she pictured his face, could almost see his grin. 'You suddenly seemed so vulnerable. I found myself wanting to protect you... take care of you. ..' There was a catch in his voice and suddenly all Mike's doubts vanished.
He loved her. She gazed wildly around her, the adrenalin pumping through her. Luke Duncan loved her.
'Why...why...?' She stopped, swallowed hard and tried again. 'Why didn't you tell me this just now?'
'Because you wouldn't have believed me,' he said quietly. 'You'd have thought it was just a line to persuade you to share my bed for the night.'
Would she have thought that? Perhaps she might have initially, Mike admitted, although deep down instinct would have told her that Luke would never resort to such despicable tactics with any woman.
'I'm going up to Manchester tomorrow on the early evening flight and staying overnight. I'd like you to come with me.' He paused. 'And stop pursing your lips,' he admonished teasingly. 'I'm going to visit my parents.'
'You want me to meet them?'
'I want you to be part of my life, Mike, and that includes my family,' he said quietly. 'You will come, won't you?' There was a note of uncharacteristic hesitation in the deep voice.
'Yes.' Curiosity alone would have compelled her to accompany him.
'Drive home carefully. Goodnight, Mike.'
Dazedly, she replaced the receiver and stared down at it. Was she going insane? Had Luke actually called her up on the car phone and told her he loved her? A bubble of laughter welled up in her throat. A car park was hardly the most romantic of settings in which to receive a proposal! She flinched the moment the words formed in her head, her whole body stiffening. Luke hadn't mentioned marriage, she told herself fiercely, appalled by her unconscious blunder. He hadn't once referred to the future or suggested any permanent commitment. Neither, she reminded himself, had he even asked if she reciprocated his feelings.
She drew a long, deep breath and slumped back in her seat. For pity's sake, what was the matter with her? Luke had told her he loved her. What more did she want?
But for how long would he love her? The tortuous doubts crept insidiously into her mind. Were Luke's feelings as transitory as her father's, who fell in and out of love with monotonous regularity, and each time with a younger woman? She mustn't keep comparing the two men, she thought uneasily... but they were so alike. Throughout her life, she'd witnessed women's reaction to her father, a reaction that seemed to be magnified in Luke's case. Her throat tightened. She couldn't bear it if she was just a passing infatuation, couldn't bear to have been loved by Luke and then lose him to another woman.
'I want you to be part of my life.' His words reverberated through her head. That was the fundamental difference between them. Despite her repeated avowals to the contrary, she knew with dreary certainty that Luke would form the nucleus of her entire existence. She would love him to the exclusion of everyone and anything else. But she would only ever fill a small slot in his life, would always be competing for his time with the ever increasing demands of his business empire. And inevitably she would be the loser.
The tap at the window made her start, and, turning her head swiftly, Mike saw the dark figure looming over the car. Without thinking, governed solely by instinct and driving need, she flung open the car door and launched herself into Luke's arms.
Their bodies and mouths fused together, passion flaring instantly and mounting into a burning inferno that threatened to engulf them completely.
Mike moaned a throaty protest as Luke dragged his mouth from hers, and eased her arms from around his neck.
'I want you, Mike.' A shudder passed through the muscular length. 'But I want you without any reservations.'
So he had guessed at those tortuous doubts that had assailed her, knew about that deep well of insecurity. Slowly, Mike raised her eyes to his, and in the dark grey shadowy depths read the question being asked of her. With all her heart she longed to tell him that she trusted him implicitly, that she loved him unequivocally... but she couldn't do it. The words stuck in the throat. No longer able to meet his intense gaze, she lowered her head unhappily.
'Get back into your car and drive home before I change my mind.' The strain on his face was reflected in the gruffness of his voice as he pushed her away from him and walked with uncharacteristic jerkiness across the car park.
* * *
'How far are we from the centre of Manchester?' Mike asked as Luke drove the hire car they'd collected on their arrival at Ringway Airport through a small, picturesque village.
'Just a few miles.'
'Good heavens,' she murmured wonderingly, gazing out of the window. 'But it's so quiet and peaceful.'
'What were you expecting? A huge, industrial sprawl?' Luke was clearly amused by her surprise. 'The Peak District, which has some of wildest country in Britain, is only a short drive away. I used to cycle over there at weekends when I was a boy.'
The fields gave way to urban development as they reached the outskirts of Altrincham where Luke had told her his parents lived. Not normally apprehensive about meeting strangers, Mike was disconcerted to discover that she was beginning to feel quite sick with nerves.
Luke drove along a wide, tree-lined avenue and swung into the drive of a pleasant, red-bricked house, set back from the road in what appeared to be extensive grounds.
'Relax,' he murmured quietly as he helped Mike from the car. 'My parents rarely eat guests on Thursdays.'
Before Mike had time to inform him coolly that she wasn't in the least bit nervous, the front door was flung open and a golden Labrador tore down the path, greeted them rapturously, and hurtled around the side of the house. A slight woman, her light brown hair streaked with grey, followed more sedately, shadowed by a black and white border collie.
She hugged Luke and then, after he'd made a brief introduction, kissed Mike unceremoniously on the cheek, the warmth radiating from her deep blue eyes making formal words of welcome unnecessary.
'Come on in.' She linked her arm through Mike's and guided her into the house, the collie trailing faithfully behind them. 'We're having a drink on the terrace before dinner as it's such a lovely evening. Lisa is here, too, by the way,' she added over he
r shoulder to Luke who was following with the two overnight cases. 'She's making a guest appearance in that detective series they film up in the Dales.'
Mike had a brief impression of a wide, airy hall before being led through a large, comfortable' lounge and out through open french windows on to a patio, bathed in evening sunshine.
'Peter, darling, this is Michaelia.'
Mike's eyes were riveted to the tall, grey-haired man who, after gently tipping a small tortoiseshell cat from his lap, rose to his feet courteously and extended a lean, tanned hand towards her.
'How do you do, Mr Duncan?' The resemblance between father and son was almost uncanny. The lines etched around the dark grey eyes and firm mouth of the older man merely added even more character to the rugged, compelling face. It was as if she were seeing Luke as he would look in thirty years' time.
'I believe you've already met my niece, Lisa?'
'Yes.' Mike exchanged smiles with the fair woman lounging elegantly in a wicker chair, rather wishing she could obliterate the memory of their first encounter from her mind, and wondering a little uneasily just how much Luke's parents knew about it.
'Hi, Lissy.' Luke walked across and kissed his cousin on the cheek. 'Tom not with you?'
Lisa shook her head regretfully. 'He was hoping to come down this weekend but he's pretty tied up at work.' She gave a light, not wholly convincing laugh. 'Do you know that in the six years Tom and I have been married, we've only actually spent about half of that time together? Either I'm away on location or he's out of the country on a business trip.'
'You must miss him,' Mike said sympathetically, sitting down beside her as the two men moved over to the drinks tray and Luke's mother, murmuring something about needing more ice, disappeared into the house, followed inevitably by the collie.
'I do. Desperately.' Lisa sighed. 'But even if I gave up acting, we'd still spend weeks and weeks apart while Tom was abroad.' She took a sip from her glass and surveyed Mike thoughtfully over the rim. 'I suppose that you and Luke are going to be in much the same position. Or do you intend to travel with him and spend half your life living out of a suitcase and waiting around in strange hotels?'
'I... That is, we haven't actually...' Mike floundered to a stop, at a total loss at how to answer the question. She wasn't even certain she had a future with Luke, let alone knew what form it might take. Her embarrassment increased as she was suddenly aware that Luke had rejoined them and must have overheard Lisa's last words and her own stumbling attempt at a reply. Cautiously she flicked him a glance, dismayed by the coolness in his eyes. He was angry...
'What would you like to drink, Mike?' he asked expressionlessly. 'Wine? Or there's some home-made lemonade if you would prefer it?'
'That sounds lovely,' she answered brightly, immeasurably relieved as Luke's mother emerged from the house and the conversation became general. Luke, she noticed with growing unease, took little part in it but sat motionless in his chair, his eyes dark and remote. Was he regretting bringing her here with him? she wondered unhappily.
'I expect you'd like to freshen up before dinner,' Luke's mother murmured gently. 'I'll show you where your room is.'
'I'll take Michaelia upstairs,' Lisa offered, rising to her feet in a swift, elegant movement, and implanting a swift kiss on the top of her aunt's head as she passed. They were a very affectionate, tactile family, Mike mused, wondering how it would feel to really belong to such a warm unit.
'Be careful of Tilly as you go up, dear.'
Tilly turned out to be large tabby cat curled up in a large somnolent ball halfway up the stairs. Mike stooped to stroke her, was rewarded with an appreciative purr, and then hastily followed Lisa on up to the landing.
'Here you are,' Lisa announced opening the door into a small, attractively decorated and furnished bedroom. 'Bathroom's first on the left.'
'What a beautiful garden.' Mike was drawn to the window that overlooked the large grounds at the rear of the house. Below her, Luke's parents were strolling arm in arm across the lawn, talking animatedly together.
'They've been virtually inseparable for over forty years and yet they never seem to run out of things to say to each other,' Lisa murmured, peering over Mike's shoulder. Her eyes softened as they rested on her aunt. 'She gave up her career for him, you know. Apparently she was quite a brilliant musician and had a glittering future ahead of her. And then she came up to Manchester to give a concert, met Uncle Peter and they were married a month later.'
Mike frowned. It might sound incredibly romantic—but what an appalling waste of talent. 'Surely she could have combined a career with marriage?'
'I don't think she could bear the thought of being parted from my uncle when she went on concert tours.' Lisa smiled. 'My aunt doesn't exactly give the impression of being a frustrated woman suffering from burning regrets, does she?'
'No,' Mike agreed slowly. Luke's mother was one of the most serenely content persons she'd ever met. 'I suppose Luke inherited her talent.'
'You've heard him play the piano?' Lisa sat down on the edge of the bed, watching as Mike began to unpack her overnight case.
'Only once,' Mike admitted, hanging up her bathrobe.
'He was one of those nauseating child prodigies. The type that can play Chopin with their eyes closed before they can even walk.' She grinned. 'Maybe I'm exaggerating a bit, but he really was exceptionally gifted.'
'So why did he give it up?'
'Didn't he tell you?' Lisa surveyed Mike curiously, making the latter acutely aware of just how little she knew about the man she loved. 'He broke three fingers on his right hand when he was at the Royal College of Music and that virtually put paid to any chance he might have had of being a top concert pianist. It was such a stupid accident too. He slammed his hand in a car door.' Lisa's eyes darkened reminiscently. 'He was very cut up about it, but, of course, being Luke, he wouldn't even talk about it.'
Mike's heart constricted with pain, finding it almost unbearable to have to imagine Luke's mental suffering.
'Then one day he just calmly announced that he was going to America and the next thing we knew he was on his way to making his first million.' Lisa stood up. 'It's odd how life turns out, isn't it? When we were children, the last thing I'd have ever imagined Luke being was a successful business tycoon.' She walked across the room to the door. 'See you back downstairs.'
Mike nodded vaguely. Lisa was right. It was odd the way life turned out. If a completely avoidable accident hadn't prevented him from pursuing his initial choice of career, it was very doubtful that Luke's and her paths would have ever crossed. Whatever happened, however much pain she might ultimately have to endure, Mike suddenly thought fiercely, she would never regret meeting Luke, never regret loving him. Shaking herself mentally, she picked up one of the towels laid out for her on the bed and headed for the bathroom.
Not wishing to be late for dinner, she had a quick wash, brushed her hair and swiftly reapplied her lipstick. Feeling fresher, she started to make her way back downstairs, pausing en route to stroke the tabby cat again who was still sprawled lazily on the stairs. Hearing the sound of voices from below her, she glanced over the banisters and saw Luke and Lisa emerge from the living-room and walk across the hall.
'You still haven't been down to the Cotswolds to see our cottage.'
Mike smiled slightly at the admonishing tone in Lisa's clear voice.
'Tom and I are hoping to go down there next weekend. Why don't you and Michaelia come then?'
'Sorry, Lissy,' Luke murmured regretfully, opening the door of the dining-room and standing aside to let her enter first. 'I'll be in the States then. I'm flying back to New York next Tuesday.'
Mike's knuckles whitened as they clutched hold of the banisters, her whole body shaking with shocked anger.
CHAPTER EIGHT
'More coffee, Michaelia?'
'No, thank you.' Mike smiled across the lounge to where Luke's mother was seated on a large leather settee beside her husband, presi
ding over a silver coffee-pot. Did this warm, charming woman have any idea of what a loathsome, devious, selfish swine she had for a son?
Mike's face was beginning to ache with the effort of maintaining that forced, bright smile. Somehow she'd managed to get through dinner, which, judging from the appreciative comments around her, had been excellent although she herself hadn't tasted any of it. She'd spent most of the time gazing down at her plate, concentrating on avoiding Luke's enquiring glances, knowing that if she looked at him directly she would probably explode and disgrace herself completely.
'Another brandy?' Peter Duncan rose to his feet and moved across the russet carpet to a large, old-fashioned sideboard on which were arrayed several decanters.
Mike refused politely, conscious of Luke's dark eyes resting on her face. She had sensed his amazement when she'd not only accepted a brandy with her first coffee, but had then tossed it back recklessly in one long gulp, miraculously managing to avoid choking as it burnt the back of her throat. However, instead of having the calming effect she'd hoped for, it had been like throwing petrol on to a bonfire and had simply refuelled the anger scorching through her. Her gaze rested momentarily on the tall, grey-haired man. Why couldn't Luke have resembled his father in character as well as physical appearance? She had witnessed the tenderness in Peter Duncan's eyes as they followed his wife's every movement. A warm, caring, considerate man. Totally unlike his son. Instinctively Mike glanced towards Luke, and saw his dark eyebrows knit together as he met her icy glare.
'Anyone feel like a breath of fresh air?' Rising abruptly to his feet, he addressed the room at large, but Mike was fully aware that the invitation had been directed at her.
'Count me out.' Lisa stifled a yawn. 'I'm off to bed in a moment. The car's coming to collect me at the crack of dawn.'
'Mike?' Luke towered above her. 'Fancy a walk?'
The Labrador stretched out on the hearthrug sat up instantly it heard the magical, canine word, its tail wagging furiously. In contrast, the black and white collie crouched protectively by his mistress's feet made it quite evident that nothing would induce him to desert his post.
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