A dull thoong turned her attention away from the office exit and in the direction of the building’s courtyard, the sound resembling that of a blunt object hitting metal. The muffled song of a child’s laughter cut through next.
Her pulse sped, and her heart swelled.
She eyed the large glass wall, with its full view of the yard. Though the yard had a basketball hoop, she’d never witnessed anyone actually using it. Only now did she register the vision of Luke, all six-feet-something of him, his sincere grin pointed at two children sitting cross-legged on a timber bench along the glass wall.
Her throat tightened, and she swallowed at the constriction. He turned from the children and slung a clean shot through the hoop. She twisted around, in the direction she’d intended to go, out the main door and onto the street, anywhere away from Luke. But just as she second-guessed herself again, her focus caught on his. He stared at her, too, as if instinct guided him, and his smile dropped, the ball bouncing aimlessly behind him.
She lowered her chin and said a silent prayer, even though she wasn’t all that religious. If heaven existed, no one up there would be interested in helping her, and now wasn’t the time to think about the Great Blue Yonder.
At some point, his hair had gotten ruffled from running, he’d rolled up the sleeves of his fitted charcoal shirt, and opened the first three buttons at the collar. All of this worked to make him look downright sexy and approachable, two things she didn’t need him to be right now.
She weighed up whether it would be rude to walk away from someone after catching their gaze, but even a denial queen such as herself knew better. She gave herself a fortifying nod and a silent pep talk, then marched on forward.
The two children turned their little heads as she pushed the creaky courtyard door. The oldest child, a girl around six years old, and the boy, about four, beamed bright enough to rip a hole through her already shredded heart.
“Are you here to play basketball?” The girl’s eyes lit up, a distinct lisp distorting her question, due to her missing two front teeth.
Agathe shook her head, pulse thudding loud in her ears. She avoided children at the best of times. They made her limbs feel weak and everything in her body accelerate, like maybe her heart and mind teetered on overdrive, ready to explode and send pieces of her out into the universe. But these kids weren’t just passing by, and she couldn’t avoid them. Their cheerful stares pointed right up at her, inviting her into whatever it was they were doing with Luke. She couldn’t just run in the opposite direction. It was far too late now. If only she’d chickened out when she’d had the chance…
The girl’s smile spread, gapped teeth on full display. “Good, cos Luke’s hogging the ball, and he won’t let anyone else play.”
“Hey.” Luke pushed his heavy stare from Agathe and gave the girl a playful scowl. “I’m not hogging the ball. Your dad gave me orders not to let you two get grubby before dinner. And I’m not silly enough to mess with your dad.”
His subtle frown returned to Agathe, but unlike what he’d given the girl, this frown was real and hinted that maybe he’d seen the kids throw her approach. Because, of course, Luke noticed everything, which was precisely why she’d ventured out into this courtyard to begin with.
“Don’t be silly, Luke.” The little boy wrinkled his nose with a cheeky grin, his eyes squinting with unfettered mischief. “Daddy won’t be mad.”
Luke leaned in a little, features drawn in playful intimidation. “Maybe not, but your mum will be.”
The little boy dipped his chin low, and as if to rise to the challenge, his bright, blue gaze skipped over to Agathe. “Are you Luke’s girlfriend? Tell him to share the ball.”
Agathe’s mouth dropped open, and her chance of responding evaporated. She flared her eyelids and fixed Luke with a beseeching glare, her conscience reminding her she’d been ungrateful to him earlier and didn’t deserve saving.
“Claire. Dylan.” A middle-aged, balding man waved from the courtyard’s doorway. “Time to go.”
The kids leapt from their seat and ran with loud giggles to the glass door. The girl elbowed her little brother and whispered loud enough for Agathe to hear, “Mum told you to stop asking people that.”
The boy shoved her back. “What? She could be his girlfriend.”
The glass door crashed shut behind the kids, and Agathe stared at Luke in stunned silence. Tram wheels screeched from the streets outside, Tiluma’s red-brick walls not thick or high enough to block the metallic grinding; while the sound spotlighted the lack of words between them. Even the tall maple to her right gave a loud rustle, conspiring against her.
“I. Um.” Her voice cracked, and she straightened her posture to compensate for sounding like a gawky teenager. “I was rude before, and I owe you an apology.”
Luke kept his unbroken attention glued to hers. “No, you weren’t. And you don’t. Please don’t worry about that.”
“I knew you’d say something along those lines.”
The tension across his face eased, his shoulders lowering, like some invisible wall had already dropped from between them. “Am I that predictable?”
She nodded, second-guessing her next words, but saying them anyway. “Predictably nice. Yeah.”
She tried not to wince at her husky tone, much less the enlivened zing of adrenaline rushing through her. Her body seemed unable to decide whether to throw itself at him or run in the opposite direction.
He strode a few meters away in slow, confident steps, to retrieve the ball. When that was done, he stopped in front of her again and bounced the ball twice. “Is that the crux of your problem with me? I’m too nice?”
And even though she so desperately wanted to, she forced herself not to break eye contact. If nothing else, he deserved her honesty. “Seems to be.”
He quirked a brow, but said nothing.
She let out a resigned sigh. He wanted more. Perhaps she owed him more. “You did something thoughtful, and my natural reaction was to behave like an ice queen. Even my ‘thank you’ wasn’t all that genuine. I’m sorry, okay? I get it, I’m a deeply flawed human being. What more do you want me to say?”
He bounced the ball again, his body twisting toward the basket before he shot at the hoop. The ball sailed through its target with a sharp swish.
“No, you acted with suspicion, and given our past encounters, I don’t blame you.” His gaze skated around her face, his features relaxed, when perhaps a defensive glare would have put her more at ease.
Her usually howling inner demons stalled at his understanding, as if they, and she, had no idea what to do with what he offered.
She waited as he turned and raced to retrieve the ball, and spoke only when she had his full attention again. “I think we can safely say my problems run deeper than the few misunderstandings we’ve had.”
He juggled the ball from one hand to the other, his expression a neutral stare. “Yeah. On many levels.”
A mischievous smile curled his lips, a smile that backed up his claims of not really minding her problems so far. If only he knew. Then again, if he did know, maybe he’d be less eager to get to know her.
Her hands curled at her sides, the strain in her body a common reaction to this man and his constant stillness, as if in doing nothing, he could bait her into explaining. The messed-up thing being that it did.
“I’m not getting into my private life with you.” Her icy tone failed to draw even the tiniest flinch from him, and to be honest, a tucked-away corner of her didn’t believe that statement either. Like she couldn’t truly trust herself to shut up around him.
“I don’t expect you to.” He pressed the ball between his hands, his long fingers stretching and hugging a large portion of the bumpy orange surface. He gave a light shrug, bringing her attention to the wide span of his shoulders. “The mistrust and attitude you insist on dishing out to me says about as much as any confession might. You’re doing as much as you can to keep me away, that part is obvious, thoug
h I figure it’s the chemistry between us alone that’s really got you spooked.”
Her tummy clenched. His smug grin nudged her yet again.
“There’s nothing between us. Much less ‘chemistry’.” She ground out her denial, her arms locked and stiff at her sides. “I thought we settled that the day I agreed to work here?”
“No.” He snapped the word out and shook his head, his face losing all humor. “We agreed to not act on what’s between us. I never once said no chemistry or feelings existed, which they most definitely do, and you know it.” He took a step closer, as though what he’d just said was a clear fact and not a contentious point she preferred not to visit. His head tilted to one side, his gaze analyzing her further. She bit the insides of her cheeks, hoping to keep from growling. “And those feelings are also why you’re stonewalling me right now.”
“How am I stonewalling?” Her voice rose, and she threw her hands open on either side of her, gesturing to the space around her. “I’m literally standing here, wanting us to get along. I’m not stonewalling you.”
“Really?” He spun and tossed the ball at the hoop, the third clean shot since she’d come out to see him. This time he didn’t chase the ball, he merely let it fall and turned to her, his breath a light pant due to his long-range throw. “You talk a lot, but you don’t reveal a damn thing. Your silence is intentional.”
Her shoulders stiffened, though her thoughts raced and scrambled for the right words to shut down his accusation.
Sure. Maybe a great part of her did want to be known to someone outside her own head, but her sanity relied on keeping her deeper thoughts locked away. She’d built a fortress of secrecy, one that had taken years of hard work and sacrifice to establish. She sure as hell wouldn’t reveal those secrets to a man she’d met while wandering the fields of Roseford. Never mind that he was essentially her boss.
Besides, if she ever unleashed every hurt and emotion that ran through her mind, the deluge of stuff would never stop flowing. Her outpouring would bury her and anyone who knew her story. So, yeah, keeping her stuff to herself was the best choice for everyone. She wouldn’t subject herself to yet another cataclysmic downfall. Not when the last defeat still reaped its pound of flesh.
“Am I the only one you have this defensive reaction to?” His voice jolted her from her thoughts, his frown setting his jaw into a hard line.
“Yeah.” She hugged her arms around herself. “Pretty much.”
“Why?”
She cleared her throat. “I don’t know.”
He bounced the ball a couple of times, attention on the ground. “Hmm…”
“Hmm… what?”
“Like I said.” He turned and lobbed the ball at the hoop. “Chemistry.” The ball missed its target by miles. He swung back to her with a broad and boyish grin, hinting he’d missed the shot on purpose. “You feel something for me, and that terrifies you.”
She shook her head and took a slow step back. “No.”
His eyes sparkled brilliant, like a man holding a winning lottery ticket, even though Luke Tindall really didn’t need any more money. “It sure isn’t your professional obligations, Agathe.” Though his voice had gentled, her heartbeat leapt, as if trying to outrun the kindness he held out on offer.
“You know…” He grabbed the ball again, both brows raised to her. “I’d never blab to your boss if things didn’t work out between us.”
“I don’t care what you’d do.” She stuck out her chin, her tone hollow because, actually, she did care, and she really didn’t want to. “I don’t want things to work out between us. I don’t want them to even start.”
He dipped his chin, his light-hearted glance seeming to say, Come now, you can’t fool me.
But even her stubborn silence didn’t budge the smooth serenity from his face. “You don’t strike me as someone with poor judgment of character, Agathe. Your job demands an ability to see through people’s façades. You’ve seen me enough, and spoken to my staff enough, to have a good inkling of who I am. And I’ve seen the way you stare at me when you think I’m not looking.”
That last embarrassing detail struck a small inferno in her chest. She took a deep swallow and plastered on her most sarcastic tone. “And what stare is that?”
“The hungry stare you gave me all through yesterday’s meeting.” His eyes glistened anew, his gaze unwavering, suggesting, unlike her, he didn’t mind being caught looking. “That terrified-but-intrigued expression you get. Your eyes go wide like you’re dying to find out what it would be like to get me alone in a room. To not turn me away for a change. To be fair, I wonder the same about you.”
Her face heated, and her ribcage compressed against her lungs. How fucking humiliating. While he’d been busy paying attention, she’d been busy looking like a heavy-breathing lurker. She thought she’d kept her staring surreptitious, but clearly not!
She cleared her throat and shook non-existent hair from her face, set on maintaining her argument because she had no other freaking choice. “My job also demands I keep it in my pants.”
He laughed, his chest trembling with the light staccato of his chuckle. “I’ll make you a deal. I’ll help you keep it in your pants if you tell me the real reason you’re shutting me out.”
“No.” She jerked back. “And you don’t have quite as much power of attraction over me as you think you do.”
“I don’t believe you. That, and I’d go so far as to say what you feel is more than attraction.” He prowled toward her, his gaze blazing.
The man had enough sexual charge to turn her muscles into metaphorical jelly, those same muscles warring over whether to throw herself at him, just so she could re-experience that same scintillating kiss he’d given her in Roseford. “I have as much power as I did the first night we met. Maybe more. And I’m almost certain I could recreate those conditions right now.”
His smile rose another degree, tinged with humor, as though she presented some kind of fun challenge. He loomed over her with his added height, exuding physical clout and his intoxicating scent of citrus and spice.
“Don’t come any closer.” She held up a hand, a guard between their bodies, but even then, her conviction sank. She wanted to reach out to him, to hitch her lips to his, and let nature and chemistry run its course.
His gaze smoldered. He stayed put, just as she commanded. His respect for her wishes somehow endeared him more and worked against her. “Tell me why you’re holding back.”
“I don’t have to tell you anything.”
He leaned down, and clear thought escaped her.
“You want this too.” His voice was a sultry rumble, one that snaked its way through her body and lit up senses she didn’t know she had. The fact his lips were poised inches from her own also didn’t help.
Oh, yes, she did want this.
And him.
A flutter of heat washed over her, while moisture pooled in her lower regions.
“Luke. Please.” She meant to back away again, but her legs refused to oblige, like they’d decided they’d rather be wrapped around his waist than walking her out the door.
And his words, his closeness, his hot breath against her cheek, each small detail broke her down to a weak embodiment of need.
She wanted him. So wanted him! And he did have power over her.
A power she’d give just about anything to break.
He leaned in farther, his lips a hairsbreadth from her own, while the lines of concern over his forehead smoothed out. “I won’t touch you, Agathe. Not unless you ask me first.”
Her muscles bunched. He overestimated her bravery. As if she’d ask anything of him, and especially not touch. Even if touching was exactly what she wanted.
“Then step back.” She flinched at her soft, twisting whisper, the strongest voice she could produce right now.
Since when did she ever plead?
He shook his head. “I won’t do that either.”
“Maybe you’re right. Maybe my holdi
ng back isn’t all about my job, but nothing can happen here.” She eased back, the effort of doing so akin to pulling two super magnets apart. Fuck my life!
He took a step closer, filling the space she’d just made. Shock zinged through her body, icy and sharp.
What was he doing? Why was he trying so hard to affect her? The way her heart thundered in her chest made her feel she might just keel over at his feet.
“Fine. If nothing can happen, then at least tell me why.” His beautiful stare latched onto hers, refusing to let go, no matter how hard she denied her own feelings. “I want you. You want me. Except, I’m the one in the dark here about why all this wanting bothers you so much. Maybe I at least deserve to know a little more about what’s happening here.”
What’s happening? She opened her mouth, ready to argue that her reasons for rejecting him were none of his business, but her voice cracked, and her throat dried. No words came out.
She couldn’t make him understand. Not without cutting straight to the core of her pain.
And she’d promised herself time and time again, there’d be no more tears. If she cried now, she might not stop, when for years, her crying had been near impossible to stem. So, this man wouldn’t break her. She simply couldn’t let him.
No one other than Elsie had ever been able do that. And Elsie hadn’t just broken her, she’d downright destroyed her. Somehow, Agathe would provide just enough information to make him step away.
“Because I’m not free.” She blinked up at him, her tone thankfully clearer now, despite the swell of tension expanding in her belly. “You’re asking for more than I can give.”
“What does ‘not free’ mean?” He jerked back, his face suddenly rigid. At least she now had the distance she’d fought for. “As in, you’re seeing someone? Married?”
She blinked again, sharp urgency piercing her already shredded courage, a stab of pain emanating midway in her chest, her savage heartbeat again. The pure, disappointed shock on his face left her shuddering with an inability to lie about something that clearly hurt him. Then again, her usual reclusive act hadn’t worked, so maybe the truth would.
The Last Heartbeat Page 9