His stance relaxed a bit, but his eyes narrowed on her in suspicion. “Fiona, what are you up to?”
Slow it down, she told herself. Shaking her head, she said, “Nothing. Honestly. It’s just that we’ve been talking about this since we met, and I decided to research it. Some kids are being digitally distracted from the real world.”
“And you think that’s what I’m doing?”
“Not deliberately, of course not.”
The wind slapped at them both, whipping her hair across her eyes, and she pushed it free. Luke stood in front of her like a glowering giant, readying for battle. “We’re selling screens. Tablets. We’re not even trying to get into the video game market.”
“But you sell reading games and swirling color games for toddlers,” she argued. “Isn’t that priming them to want to play as much as they can, and to want more involved games later?”
“Maybe.” That glowering frown deepened. “I hadn’t considered it, but I guess there is a case to be made for what you’re saying.”
“Luke, why don’t you talk to your grandfather about all of this? I’m trying to see both sides and maybe your grandfather is feeling that his company is about family. And that you’re walking away not just from the business, but from him. You never know. He might be more willing to compromise now that you’ve been gone for a while.”
“No. Pop knows I love him. This isn’t about that.” He snorted and started walking toward the house again. “I’m willing to give on a couple of points you made. And I’m going to look into the research more deeply. But when it comes to my grandfather, you’re wrong, Fiona. You don’t know him like I do.”
Fiona had to hurry her steps to keep up with him. Had she pushed too hard, too fast?
“People change, Luke.”
“Not him, Fiona.” His voice was low and almost lost in the driving wind and the throaty roar of the ocean. “I’m not saying you’re completely wrong.”
That was something, she told herself, so she gave him more to think about. “That article I read, it had a lot of really interesting points. The doctor wrote that screens are bad for kids, because they need to communicate face-to-face with other people. That it’s essential for their social and emotional development.”
He stopped right outside his home’s enclosed patio. Plexiglass panels lifted off what looked like adobe but was probably stucco walls, to allow the view while protecting people on the patio from the fierce wind. There were chairs and tables and even a pizza oven tucked into one corner of the patio. But at the moment, all Fiona could see was Luke.
He tipped his head to one side and stared at her. “Did you memorize this article?”
She winced. “Sounds like it, doesn’t it?”
“Sounds like you’re trying to convince me that my grandfather’s right.”
Fiona stepped in close to him and laid one hand on his chest. “In a way, I guess I am.”
He curled his hand around hers and held on. The faint wash of lights from his house fell across them. From somewhere nearby, a stereo played, and music drifted almost lazily on the wind.
“He’s not right to turn his back on the future,” Luke said softly.
“No, he’s not.” There must be a compromise, but he and his grandfather had to really talk to find it. “I’m not saying you’re completely wrong, or that he’s completely right. I’m just saying that maybe the world has enough room for technology and teddy bears. Imagination is important, too, right?”
“Of course it is,” he agreed with a half-smile. “But my toys don’t destroy imagination.”
“No, but your designers make such great games and tech toys, the kids don’t have to use their own imaginations because your guys did it for them.” She moved in closer and hooked both hands behind his neck. “Maybe there’s a middle ground.”
“If there is,” he muttered, as his arms snaked around her waist, “I haven’t found it yet.”
Tipping her head to one side, she met his gaze and asked quietly, “Have you really looked?”
He stared into her eyes for what felt like forever. She couldn’t read his thoughts, but the expression on his face clearly said he wasn’t happy. Finally, he said, “No, I guess I haven’t. I was so busy trying to prove I was right, I never really thought about meeting him halfway. Or even if there is a halfway.”
She smiled at him and told herself not to celebrate. This didn’t mean he’d go back to his family company. But it did mean he was willing to consider his options and maybe that was enough.
“You could talk to your grandfather...”
Nodding, he admitted, “I do miss that old hardhead.”
She grinned. “I envy you your family, Luke. I never had that. When I was a child, I would have given anything for a family of my own. And, like you just said, he’s getting old. Do you really want to let this keep you apart until it’s too late to fix it?”
His features tightened, and she could see that she’d given him more to think about. She was glad. Everything she’d said hadn’t just been to serve this job. After Jamison hired her, Fiona had done research on kids and electronics, and some of the statistics had worried her.
She knew Luke was excited about this road he was on, but she thought that maybe he hadn’t considered all the ramifications of pushing kids too hard into a digital world. If he was going to rethink some of his opinions, that was a good thing.
And maybe, she thought wistfully, one day, he’d look back on this time with her and smile. Maybe he wouldn’t hate her once he’d found out she’d lied to him. Maybe...
“Why am I listening to you?” he asked, shaking his head.
“Because you’re brilliant and insightful?”
“Yeah,” he said, bending his head to kiss her. “That must be it.”
Eight
The taste of her put everything else out of Luke’s mind.
He liked talking to her. Even liked arguing with her, because she wasn’t afraid to state her opinion and then defend it. She made him laugh. Made him think. Even about things he didn’t want to consider.
But there was nothing like touching her. The rush of heat that overtook him every damn time kept him coming back to her. He didn’t want or need a relationship. But for now, he needed Fiona.
He’d never meant for this—whatever it was between them—to continue beyond that long weekend in San Francisco. But the more time he spent with her, the more time he wanted with her. That thought should have worried Luke, and maybe it would. Later. But at the moment, all he could think was to feed the need devouring him.
Luke lost himself in Fiona just as he did every time he kissed her. Her scent, her taste, the hot, lush feel of her body pressed to his. He wanted it all. Wanted her more every time he had her.
Even with the icy ocean wind pummeling them from all sides, even with the lights of the house illuminating them for anyone to see, even with the fact that she’d just shot down some of his theories on technology for kids, he wanted her.
This kiss in the night wouldn’t be enough. Tearing his mouth from hers, he looked down into chocolate-brown eyes that were swimming with passion and the kind of need that was nearly choking him.
“Come inside with me,” he said, voice low and tight.
“Yes.” She leaned into him more fully. “Oh, yes.”
He gave her a quick grin, then grabbed her hand and tugged her along behind him. Across the patio, through the front door, and locked it after them. Up the stairs on the right to the landing and then down the hall to his bedroom.
Luke pulled Fiona into the room, then kicked the door shut behind them. She was laughing. Damn it, she was laughing and something inside him turned over. That wide smile, her bright brown eyes sparkling with humor and heat.
Of course he wanted her.
“In a hurry?” she finally asked, moving into his arms.
<
br /> “Damn right I am,” he assured her, pulling her in tight, using his hands, up and down her back to mold her body to his. He held her against his aching groin so she could feel exactly why he’d nearly run her legs off to get to this room with its massive bed.
“Me, too,” she said, sliding her hands across his chest until he grabbed those hands and held them in a tight grip.
While they stood there, she looked around quickly. “I like your bedroom.”
He knew what she was seeing. Pale gray walls, bookcases, flat-screen TV, forest green duvet covering his massive bed, and wide windows that overlooked the ocean. Because of those windows, Luke reached over and hit a switch on the wall. Instantly, heavy, dark green drapes slid soundlessly across the windows, throwing the room into darkness.
“Wow. A housekeeper. A cook. And you don’t even have to close your own curtains,” she whispered.
He grinned. “I did flip the switch.”
“You’re right. You’re practically a frontiersman.” She laughed again and everything in Luke fisted.
“Enough talking,” he announced, and picked her up. She was tall, which he liked, and curvy, which he really liked, and she felt great in his arms.
He dropped her onto the bed and that amazing laugh bubbled out of her again. He’d never been with a woman who laughed before, during and after sex. He liked it. It was somehow more because of that ease, that companionable laughter.
Luke switched on a bedside lamp because damn it, he wanted to see her. She lay stretched out across the bed like a beautifully wrapped present. Her black slacks and green long-sleeved shirt were like the wrappings, and he couldn’t wait to undo it all.
As he watched, she undid the buttons on her shirt and then sat up to shrug it off, leaving behind only a pale pink lace bra that barely covered the breasts he wanted to indulge himself in.
“You’re amazing,” he muttered.
“I’m happy you think so,” she whispered.
Luke tore his clothes off and tossed them onto a chair in the corner. Her eyes widened as she looked at him, and the expression on her face only fed the fires building inside him. Reaching down, he unhooked her slacks and slid them down and off her beautiful legs. The pale pink panties were next, and she lifted her hips to help him get them off. And then she was there, spread out before him like a feast.
Luke didn’t waste a moment. He dragged her closer, then took her with his mouth. She gasped, lifted her hips again and cried out his name.
Sweetest sound he’d ever heard. Luke took his time, tasting, licking, nibbling at the core of her. Her heat swamped him, her shrieks and groans fed the need to give her more. To take more. He drove her to the ragged edge, while her fingers threaded through his hair and held his head to her. His hands cupped her butt and squeezed, his tongue swept over her innermost depths, and when he felt her nearly ready to shatter, he stopped.
“No, don’t. Don’t you dare leave me hanging like this.” She lifted her head and fired a hard stare at him.
He grinned at her, then with a quick move, flipped her over onto her stomach. “Just getting started, Fiona.”
She whipped her hair out of her face and looked back at him over her shoulder. “You’re making me crazy.”
“Well, it’s about time. You’ve been doing that to me since we met.”
Amazingly enough, she laughed again, and Luke told himself there was no one else like her. But who had time for revelations now?
“Up on your knees, Fiona...”
She stared at him for a long moment, then licked her lips in anticipation and did what he asked.
Still holding her gaze, he inched back off the bed and stood there a second or two before pulling her back toward him. When her butt was close enough, he smoothed his palms over it, squeezing, kneading, until she was moaning his name and rocking her hips in a futile search for the release he kept denying her.
Luke grabbed a condom from the bedside drawer, sheathed himself, then pushed himself deep inside her. Instantly, he groaned, and she gave a soft sigh of completion. It wasn’t enough. It would never be enough. Being inside her heat, a part of her, yet separate, felt right. But the aching need to shatter pushed at him and Luke responded.
Again and again, he took her. He held her hips steady and moved his own, claiming her body, giving her his. He set a rhythm that she eagerly raced to meet. The only sounds in the room were their combined groans and the beautiful slap of flesh against flesh.
Luke gave himself over to the sensations pouring through him. He looked at her, listened to her and let her reactions multiply his own. When her gasping cries and shuddering body told him she was about to climax, he pushed her harder, faster until she called out his name on a high, thin scream and shattered in his hands.
A moment later, Luke let himself find the same shaking release, and he knew that nothing else would ever compare to what he shared with Fiona.
And as he swept her up into his arms, then lay down on the bed with her cuddled in close to his side, Luke realized that that admission should scare the hell out of him.
* * *
Later that night, Fiona stopped at Laura’s because she had to talk to someone. Having that argument with Luke, fighting to make him see her side—his grandfather’s side—had been nerve-racking. If she didn’t push hard enough, nothing changed. If she pushed too hard, she’d lose him—even before she’d managed to complete her job and get him to go back to his family.
Then being with him, making love in that beautiful beach house, wrapped in his arms, feeling her own world shatter again and again. The whole night had filled her with an anxiety she didn’t know how to deal with. She wanted this to be forever. And she knew it wouldn’t—couldn’t be. Because to stay with him, she’d have to confess to her lie. And if she did that, she’d lose him anyway. His was a world of black-and-white, right and wrong. And lying was wrong.
Mike answered the door. “Hey, Fiona.”
He was wearing worn jeans and a black T-shirt. His hair was rumpled and whiskers stubbled his jaws.
“Hi, Mike. Sorry it’s so late.” Not really all that late. About eleven, but she still felt guilty for showing up out of the blue. Especially since Mike worked construction and would be out of the house at the crack of dawn.
“No problem.” He pushed the screen door open and waved her inside. “Laura’s in the kitchen baking cookies.”
When Fiona looked at him in confusion, he shrugged.
“I don’t ask why anymore.” Smiling, he said, “Go on back. Have a cookie.”
“Right. Thanks.” She walked through the living room and found Laura, as promised, taking a tray of cookies out of the oven. Fiona wasn’t even tempted to grab one, which only proved how torn up she was inside.
Laura looked up and blew a lock of hair out of her eyes. “Hey, you’re home early. Usually when you’re with Luke it’s a lot later—or even,” she said with a grin, “the next morning.”
“I’ve got an early job in Lakewood tomorrow.”
Laura nodded. “Cookie?”
“No, thanks.” She slid onto a barstool beneath the island counter.
“Uh-oh. If chocolate chip cookies can’t tempt you, something is seriously wrong.”
“Pretty much.” Fiona braced both elbows on the granite counter and covered her face with her hands. Too many different emotions were stirring inside her at once. The memory of being with Luke made her blood burn, but the memory of talking to him, trying to make him change his mind about his family, his business, made her want to come clean. Her lie of omission was tearing at her. “It’s a mess.”
“Start talking.” Laura set the hot tray onto the stove top to cool off, then went for a bottle of wine in the fridge. She poured two glasses, handed one to Fiona, took a sip of her own and waited.
“I don’t even know where to start.” She was in so dee
p now, she couldn’t imagine a way out. Even if she told Luke the truth now, would it be enough to make up for lying to him for so long?
And wouldn’t it put him and his grandfather at odds, too, if he found out the older man had hired someone to bring him back to the business?
Fiona stared at the sunlight-colored wine and finally drank some, if only to ease the tightness in her throat. “It’s Luke.”
“Yes.” Laura leaned both elbows on the countertop. “I cleverly deduced that. What about him?”
Fingers absently twirling the stem of her wineglass, Fiona muttered, “I think I’ve about convinced him to make up with his grandfather.”
“That’s good news,” Laura said, until Fiona’s gaze met hers. Then she added, “Or not.”
She gave her friend a strained smile. “No, it is. It really is. I mean, that is why his grandfather hired me. So that’s good. But, Laura, there’s a problem.”
“You’re in love with him.”
Gaping at her best friend, Fiona could only nod. “I don’t know how you know when I only just figured it out myself on the way home.”
Laura patted her hand. “Oh, Fiona, it wasn’t hard. You light up when you see him. You talk about him all the time. And you look at him like I look at Mike.”
“Oh God.” She scooped one hand through her still-windblown hair and took another drink of her wine. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”
“Everybody says that.” Laura took another sip of wine and shrugged.
“This is different, though.” Shaking her head, she had another sip of wine and felt the cool slide through her system. “This started out as a job. I wasn’t supposed to care about him, let alone love him. Plus, I’ve been lying to him, Laura. Right from the beginning.”
She shrugged. “So tell him the truth.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why not? It’s not exactly a wild idea.”
Jet Set Confessions Page 11