She should have known.
Of course Luke DeVries was a VIP. Her own very important person.
So why didn’t she feel better just seeing him? Look at him, so relaxed, so sure of himself…so glued to every word spoken by the woman at his side. It disgusted her! And when he took Helen Rhodes in his arms and slow-danced her to the center of the crowd, his hands wandering down her back, touching every inch of flesh he could, her own stomach clenched.
That should be her out there in his arms. He should be looking down at her as if he were entranced. She should be the one driving him mad with desire.
Maybe if Helen was out of the way…
9
THE NEON LIGHT and music and raucous crowd faded into the background and all that was left was them in each other’s arms. Helen snuggled up to Luke and decided to close her eyes and let her fantasies soar.
Through a euphoric haze, she saw them clinking glasses surrounded by candlelight…walking hand in hand through a forest preserve…shopping in a gourmet market and filling a single basket…experiencing every activity couples enjoyed, except for sex.
Her eyes popped open and it took her a minute to reorient herself. Her heart beat so hard she swore she could hear it rush through her head.
What in the world was wrong with her?
Why wouldn’t her mind cooperate, get down and dirty the way she wanted?
Helen’s mouth went dry and her body felt cold with sweat. The last fantasy in the world she should be indulging in was having a relationship with any man, and this man in particular.
The very thought made her want to choke. She wasn’t going to allow herself to enter that trap. She was simply feeling sentimental after seeing Nick’s homage to the woman who had become everything to him.
She didn’t need that in her life.
All she needed was a little sex. And soon.
Helen pulled herself together, and leaning in to inhale Luke’s very manly scent, she forced her mind to more prurient interests by remembering things he’d done to her already. Her body followed the path cleared by her mind and, before she knew it, she was getting into second-date mode.
Sighing in relief, Helen melted against Luke and tucked her forehead against his cheek. In return, he pulled her closer and splayed a hand across the base of her spine, his fingers meeting the bare flesh just above her low-slung skirt. Then his fingertips wandered downward, probing their way beneath the material, and Helen’s pulse trilled from head to toes.
That was more like it!
She imagined the glorious things he could do to her with those fingers, one at a time or all together. And with his mouth, she thought with a smile. And with his…no, this was only their second date. She wouldn’t go there, not yet.
But apparently Luke was already there. His erection pressed against the hollow between her thighs. Each small movement along the dance floor rubbed his hardened shaft against her sensitive flesh, the series of minute strokes quickly setting her on sexual edge. Her nipples tightened and wet warmth pooled between her thighs and she longed to be alone with him.
An exquisite torture.
They might as well have been having sex.
When the slow number ended, Helen pulled herself free of Luke’s arms. “All right, then,” she murmured, “let’s get back upstairs.”
“What’s the hurry?” Luke murmured as the next selection, a slow and sultry number, began.
He reached for her, but she skittered away from him and headed for the winding metal staircase. Luke followed, pressing up against her back. He still had a hard-on. For a moment, she stopped and pressed back against him. His answering groan whispered through her hair, sending gooseflesh careening down her neck.
Knees suddenly weak, Helen moved to the side, saying, “You first,” not wanting Luke behind her all the way up the stairs.
Eyebrows raised, he brushed by her and ran a hand along her tush, making her knees go even weaker. Taking a deep calming breath, hoping to be in complete control of herself by the time they got back to the table, she followed him up the winding metal staircase…one step at a time.
Nearly halfway up, her heel caught on something, and when she tried to free it, her foot wrenched sideways, throwing her off balance.
Even as she flew backward, Helen grabbed onto the rail with one hand to stop her fall. Her body followed and her hip plowed into the metal support with a painful thwack. A movement from below, through the open space between two stairs, caught her attention, but she was wincing and it was dark and all she saw was a woman’s form in silhouette retreating.
And then Luke was all over her.
“Are you all right?” At her side, he scooped one arm around her waist to right her. “What the hell happened?”
“I’m not sure.”
A few other people who’d seen her almost fall gathered round to make certain she was okay.
“You need to make out a report,” a young woman said. “Obviously these stairs are dangerous.”
Helen was looking down now, to see what her heel could possibly have caught on. Damned if she could tell.
“Want me to call the club manager?” a lawyer type asked.
“No, really.”
“You’re sure?” Luke asked, slipping an arm around her waist and providing support.
“I’m fine.”
But as she started up the stairs, she realized her sandal wasn’t fine. She stopped to remove it.
“What’s with the shoe?”
The dainty sandal was ruined, Helen realized. “The heel—it’s broken.”
It was, in fact, half-hanging off the sole.
“You must have caught it on the edge of the step,” Luke mused.
“Maybe.”
That might explain what happened.
Either that, or someone below the stairs had grabbed onto the heel and torqued it hard enough that it gave under her weight.
Disturbed by the thought, Helen wondered if she should say something. But what? That maybe someone had purposely tried to make her fall?
Who?
And why?
Having barely gotten a glimpse of the shadow moving below the stairs, she couldn’t describe her supposed attacker. If she had, indeed, been attacked. The incident had been so subtle, she simply wasn’t sure.
And so when they arrived back at the table and Annie frowned up at the sandal in Helen’s hand, then asked what happened, Helen said, “I had a case of clumsy.”
“That’s what you get for wearing these ridiculous pieces of…well, whatever it is,” Nick said, taking the sandal from her hand. “Let me go see if I can work some magic.”
“You think you can find a shoemaker at this time of night?” Luke asked.
“No, but I have connections here.” Nick slid away, sandal and Isabel in tow.
“Connections?” Luke echoed.
“Name’s Gideon,” Helen told him. “The owner. Although I’ve never heard that shoe repair was one of his specialties.” She sighed. “And those were my favorites.”
“Who cares about a shoe,” Luke said.
“Sacrilege,” Annie warned him.
“I care about the woman.”
The statement made Helen feel warm inside. “I’m all right, really.”
“But if you hadn’t caught yourself, you could have broken something.”
“Well, nothing is broken or even sprained,” she assured him. “I might be a little stiff in the morning and have a bruise or two, but—”
“Bruise where?”
“My hip rammed that railing.”
Luke said, “Maybe we should get you to a doctor.”
“Not necessary. Really.”
Helen was touched by Luke’s worry, and certainly she would seek medical attention if she were hurt. Thankfully, he didn’t press the issue, merely sat close, arm around her back, and lent his silent support.
“So what do you think about Nick’s video?” Annie asked. “Was that really simply a declaration of love�
��or a proposal?”
“Proposal?” Helen echoed.
The thought stunned her. Nick in a relationship was difficult enough to fathom. But Nick married?
“C’mon, you have to know he’s serious about Isabel. And Nick says things best with his camera.”
“Maybe.”
Maybe both of her friends would be getting married soon—that was sure to change the dynamics between them. It would be great for her friends, of course. Not so great for her. She depended on them being there to cheer her on, listen to her gripes and keep her honest.
Helen tried to force away any negativity. She shifted in her seat, then was hard-pressed not to grunt in discomfort lest she worry Luke. If she was this sore now, what would she feel like in the morning? Thank God, she’d had her wits about her or she might have broken something.
Which prompted her to rethink the incident more closely. The thought that it might not have been an accident nagged at her.
“You know,” she said suddenly, “I’m not really sure what happened on the stairs.”
Annie frowned. “I thought you said you got clumsy.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You’re not sure?” Nate asked.
Now he looked worried, as well. And Helen felt Luke’s arm tense against her back.
“My heel caught somehow, but when I looked to see on what…nothing.”
Annie said, “It is pretty dark on those stairs.”
“It is,” Helen agreed.
Luke gave her an intent look. “I hear a but.”
“I’m probably imagining it.”
“What?”
“That someone grabbed hold of the heel of my sandal. I mean, it kind of felt like that. And then afterward, when I looked through the opening between stairs, a woman was moving away pretty fast.”
“What woman?” Luke asked. “What did she look like?”
“Got me. If you think it’s dark on the stairs, it’s even darker beneath them.”
“You think someone simply had too much to drink and was playing a prank on you?” Annie asked, sounding hopeful.
“That must be it, right?”
“All right, what am I missing here?” Luke asked.
“Our ladies are being extra paranoid,” Nate told him. “Just because Annie had a stalker—”
“Stalker?”
“I don’t think I have a stalker,” Helen protested. “This is an isolated incident.”
“If you don’t count the things that have been happening at the café,” Annie countered.
“What things?” Luke gazed at Annie intently. “You mean the espresso machine breaking down?”
She nodded. “And right before that someone left lines of white powder in the rest room—talcum powder that looked like cocaine. And then there was the spoiled food and the electrical problem.”
“Now you think someone caused the electrical problem?” Nate asked.
“Well, it’s possible,” Helen said, wondering if her friend could be on to something.
“And it’s possible your paranoia has hit a new high, Helen.”
At which point her friend turned on her fiancé. “Nate!”
“Well, come on, Annie!”
Helen grimaced. “Please, stop. Don’t argue on my account.” Bad enough that her supposed accident had spoiled Nick and Isabel’s big night. She didn’t want hurt feelings between Annie and Nate, as well. “I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Luke leaned in and nuzzled her hair, then whispered in her ear. “We should talk about this later.”
Helen didn’t argue, though she had other things in mind for later. If she could move, that was. Her back was starting to stiffen.
Nick and Isabel returned, followed by the dark-haired owner, whose deep blue eyes were filled with concern.
“What can I do to make you feel better?” Gideon asked, returning her footwear with a flourish.
“I’m fine,” she assured him. “And you already did it. You fixed my sandal.”
“Super glue. It should do long enough to get you home, but be careful walking. Don’t take any chances. Let a professional fix it properly. Better yet, buy yourself a new pair on me. Don’t spare the expense.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“All right. Then call it a whim. Indulge me.”
Realizing that if she objected she would be making a big deal over a nice gesture, Helen shrugged. “All right.”
Everyone at the table clapped, except for Luke who squeezed her shoulder. Helen tried not to wince. Another sore spot. How many would she have?
Gideon ordered the table another bottle of champagne on the house, then took his leave.
Helen tried to clear her mind of the accident on the stairs, but the confusing thoughts lingered and, for her, the evening was tainted.
Some second date.
HELEN HAD GROWN unusually quiet after the discussion about her continuing bad luck. Having known none of this but for the espresso-maker problem, Luke now was seriously troubled. Was Helen simply having a string of bad luck, as Nate had suggested, or was something else going on?
Was this a repeat of the things that happened to those other competitors who had gone out of business after a Hot Zone moved into their territory?
While the thought had occurred to him before, he’d always put their failures to bad business or bad luck. He’d never seen their points of view from the inside. He’d never been connected to another owner as he was to Helen.
He’d had nothing to do with her bad luck, not personally. But what if…
When Helen set her champagne glass on the table, Luke noted she winced. Knowing she wouldn’t agree to an emergency room visit—and truth be told, it really did seem unnecessary—Luke had an alternate idea.
“Hey, darlin’, you look a little tired,” he murmured, his lips in her hair.
“It’s been a long day.”
“Just say the word.”
“The word,” she echoed softly. Then louder, she said to her friends, “I think we’re going to get going.”
“Already?” Annie asked. Then her eyebrows shot up knowingly. “Have fun with the rest of your evening.”
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” Nick said with a wicked grin.
“I would need another set of morals to compete with what you wouldn’t do,” Helen jibed.
The friends all hugged and kissed and then he and Helen were out of there.
As they exited the club, Luke thought he certainly would like to take Annie’s advice and have some fun—he’d been counting on it earlier—but his first concern was for Helen. Her spine appeared stiff and she was walking a little too carefully.
He flagged down a taxi, got Helen settled inside, then gave the driver the address.
“You’re taking me to Hot Zone?” she asked.
“For a completely therapeutic reason. The hot tub checked out A-okay this morning. A good soaking will loosen you up a lot.”
“Hmm. In what way?” she asked softly.
Luke couldn’t help his perfectly natural reaction to her suggestive question. “You decide,” he murmured, running his hand down her arm.
She shuddered slightly under his touch, and his response was so intense that Luke thought he might go out of his mind with wanting her.
He’d never wanted anyone more. Chances were, he never would.
She cleared her throat, moved closer, and in a low voice said, “I, uh, don’t have a swimsuit on me.”
“No problem,” he said, his lips once more in her hair. “You are wearing underwear, right?”
For a moment he thought that maybe she wasn’t, for she didn’t immediately respond.
Then she cleared her throat again and murmured, “Um, uh-huh,” in a way that made the small hairs on his arms stand up at attention.
Must be some underwear!
The thought made him shift in his seat. He couldn’t wait to see why Helen was so uncomfortable about her undergarments. Then as the taxi pulled o
ver to the curb, Luke remembered the type of shop her best friend owned. Heat flushed through him, and his imagination was already engaged as he handed the cabbie a bill and waved away the change.
He helped Helen out of the taxi and guided her to the front door where he fumbled with the keys, all the while trying to keep that imagination in check. Once inside, he turned on only enough lights so they could walk across the main floor of the café to the hot tub in safety.
For the first time, he thought the building had too many windows and too much light.
If Helen was going to strip, he didn’t want anyone seeing her exotic lingerie—or anything else—but him.
10
HELEN CHECKED HERSELF OVER in the mirrored wall and fought her nerves. The peach-colored bra was of a thin material, but everything that mattered was covered. The matching panties were a high-thigh cut and rose to her waist, nearly covering the bruise starting to bloom on her hip, a reminder of the accident. If it had been an accident…
Other than the sensual color, the lingerie seemed fairly conservative and showed no more flesh than did her two-piece bathing suit.
At least not yet, it didn’t.
She’d looked forward to Luke peeling off her clothing and discovering the lovely undergarments, had anticipated his pleasure when the mood-altered material did its magic. But waltzing out to the hot tub next-to-nude for Luke’s inspection was somehow intimidating.
Helen flushed with anticipatory heat. Then, giving herself a last glance in the mirror, she started—was it her imagination, or had the peach tone faded slightly? She grew even hotter.
What would happen to the material when it got wet?
Wrapping a luxurious bath towel around her, Helen decided it was time to find out.
Luke was already in the hot tub, which was big enough for a dozen people. Immersed to his chest, he rested his back against the wall of the tub opposite the entry as she approached. She stopped at the edge of the hot tub and—feeling something like an exotic dancer in a gentleman’s club—removed the towel and let it puddle to the floor.
His eyes were on her every movement. He didn’t hide his thoughts, that was for certain. As his gaze flicked over her, his handsome features grew taut with hunger.
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