“You just did.” She grinned again and this time it warmed more than his insides.
With his semi-hard cock straining against the fly of his jeans, he shot her a rueful look. “C’mon, let’s get out of here.”
***
“Luke knows you’re here.” Vivian didn’t give Josh a chance to reply as she flew through the front door and dropped her purse on the black end table near the couch. She’d forgotten her cell phone at home and, although she could’ve lived without it for a night, the conversation with Luke at the club had rattled her. So much that she’d felt the need to come home and talk to Josh about it.
It was almost comical, the amount of guilt currently weighing down her shoulders like a block of concrete. She was forty-four years old yet she felt like a disobedient schoolgirl who needed to be reprimanded by the headmaster. Lying to Ellie made her feel like slime. No, like a wad of chewing gum under someone’s shoe.
How had she let Josh convince her to keep his presence a secret? She should’ve called Ellie the second he showed up on her doorstep. Instead, she’d allowed him to stay in her home and get under her skin. To take her on a date, for God’s sake. And damn it, it had been a really good date.
They’d talked non-stop during dinner about everything from law to philosophy. There hadn’t been a single awkward silence and she was almost ashamed to admit that Josh Dawson was more mature than most of the men she’d dated in the past. Maybe even more mature than her.
The evening had gone so well she’d had to fight the temptation to blow off work and spend more time with him. Of course, after her conversation with Luke Russell, she really wished she’d given in to that temptation and never gone to the club.
“You told him?” Josh said in surprise. He was sitting on her couch, flipping through a thick legal document. On the coffee table sat a stack of files he’d had his secretary FedEx to Vivian’s house.
“He saw us,” she corrected, sinking down next to Josh. “Apparently Luke was driving by as we were leaving for dinner.”
Josh set the document on the table. “Oh.”
“Oh? That’s all you have to say? It doesn’t bother you that Luke knows you’re staying here…that we’re, you know, together?”
“Why should it?” He shrugged then stretched out his arm and rested it over her shoulder. “Like I keep telling you, we’re both adults. Who cares if Luke knows?”
An exasperated breath flew out of her mouth. “I care. Especially if he tells your sister that I lied to her. Which he won’t, of course.” She frowned. “Not if I do what he asked.”
Josh returned the frown. “What the hell does that mean?”
“He wants me to fire Ellie so she won’t have a reason to stay in town.”
“I agree. Fire her, Viv.”
She stared into his serious blue eyes, flabbergasted. How could he sit there so calmly while they discussed messing up Ellie’s life for no good reason? They had no right playing God and telling Ellie she couldn’t dance anymore. Did Josh even know that his sister’s ballet career was over? He had to know, he was too intelligent not to. So how could he look so unfazed by taking away the only connection to dancing Ellie had left?
“She can find another gig,” Josh added. “If she wants to dance in a nightclub, there are plenty of places in San Francisco that would hire her.”
Vivian sighed. “What if she’s not ready to go back?”
“Look,” he said, rubbing her bare shoulder before pulling her closer to him. “We both know the car accident changed her life, but she can’t hide away forever. She needs to rebuild her life.”
Vivian grew quiet. Maybe he was right. If Ellie went home, she could finally begin putting the pieces of her life back together instead of pretending the accident never happened. And she’d have her big brother to lean on while she did that.
Seeing the situation in a new light, she said, “I think…you and Luke might be right. Hiding away in this town isn’t the answer for Ellie.”
“So you’re going to do it? Fire her?”
She nodded. Tried to look past her own guilt and see the good that would come out of it. “I’ll do it tomorrow.”
“Thank you, Vivian.”
“I’m not doing it for you, Josh.”
“I know. But I’m still grateful.” He brushed his hand over her face again, then slowly drew her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers. When he pulled back, he murmured, “Now maybe it’s time we talk about what’s happening between us.”
Her palms grew damp. She knew it was a conversation they needed to have but it still made her apprehensive. They’d had one great date, sure. A few hot kisses, yes. And she couldn’t forget how they’d nearly had sex in her living room the night before. But what did it all mean? She wasn’t sure.
Josh had made it clear he wanted a relationship from her but could she really give that to him? She had no clue.
What she did know, however, was that she couldn’t have this talk until she figured how she felt about it all.
“I need to go back to the club,” she said, disentangling herself from his embrace. She stood up and reached for her purse, then swiped her cell phone from the coffee table. She glanced at Josh in time to see disappointment flashing across his face.
“You can’t keep avoiding it, Viv.”
“I’m not avoiding anything,” she lied. “I really do need to go. I just came back for my cell. I’ll probably be home late since we close at three, but we can talk tomorrow, okay?”
He rubbed the nape of his neck, looking frustrated, but after a moment his features relaxed. “Fine. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Making it through dinner alive was the hardest thing Luke had ever done in his life. He hadn’t been able to eat a bite, not when Ellie sat across from him in that traffic-stopping dress of hers. And concentration? Well, all that had flown right out the window once they left the restaurant and strolled toward the boardwalk, while his eyes stayed glued to her swaying hips and that enticing way her breasts bounced as she walked. When he’d realized she wasn’t wearing a bra under that damn dress he’d almost made a run for it.
How on earth was he supposed to show her he was in control when he was far from it?
“I haven’t been to a carnival in so long.” There was a little spring to Ellie’s stride as they approached the end of the boardwalk.
The carnival was set up on the outskirts of the little market Luke had yet to visit and as he and Ellie walked up to the entrance, she shot him a smile, looking elated by the noise and flashing lights. She’d been right; aside from a few children’s rides, the enormous Ferris wheel seemed to be the only attraction, its lit-up cars sparkling under the dark sky.
But the game area made up for the lack of rides, offering everything from ring toss to target shooting to a We’ll-guess-your-birthday stand. Luke had always enjoyed carnival games as a child, and immediately led Ellie in the direction of the loud mechanical rings and frustrated shouts.
“Look, the strength-o-meter,” she said.
He followed her gaze and chuckled when he saw a heavy-set man cursing as he slammed a metal mallet against the platform. The meter shot up to Borderline Wimp, making high-pitched ringing sounds, as the man’s date laughed in delight.
“I’d suggest you try it but we both know what a big, strong guy you are, don’t we?” The suggestive tone of her voice caused a rush of warmth to pool in his groin.
So apparently the game was on. All throughout dinner he’d been wondering when Ellie would turn up the heat.
Hiding a smile, he took her hand and stroked it softly. Then enjoyed the way her eyes widened. “Why don’t you pick the game then?”
Mischief danced across her face. “Okay, how about that one? Will you win me a goldfish?”
He followed her gaze to a nearby game stand, which required tossing a ring over a small fish bowl. “Not unless you plan on carrying that bowl around for the rest of the evening.”
“Hmmm. You’re right. Forget it. What should we do then?”
He gestured to the shooting range. “How about you win me a stuffed animal?”
“Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”
He shot her a grin. “I just figured that a feminist like you would like to do the winning.”
“A feminist?” She huffed. “All right, I’ll show you how it’s done.”
They walked up to the counter, where Ellie paid the man and then reached for one of the shotguns. She looked at the owner warily. “These things aren’t real, are they?”
“No, ma’am. They shoot BBs.”
Awkwardly holding the gun, she turned her head. “The feminist confesses she’s out of her element.”
Well, well, it wasn’t like Ellie to admit defeat. He took a step toward her. “Here, I’ll show you how to hold it.”
Unfortunately, in his line of work, carrying a firearm came with the job, and he’d taken dozens of weaponry courses over the years. He didn’t like it, though. He’d never been comfortable with the power holding a gun wielded.
He approached Ellie from behind, and put his arms around her, clasping his fingers over hers. As his chest grazed her back, he heard her breath hitch, and the soft sound nearly caused him to keel over. It pleased him to no bounds how he got that reaction from her.
“Okay,” he murmured. “Put your hands here.” He moved her small hands over the gun. “Lower your head so that you can look through the scope. That’s how you aim.”
She lowered her head, the movement causing a stray strand of her hair to tickle his chin. “It’s heavier than I thought.” She twisted her head to shoot him a look hot enough to melt a glacier. “Harder, too.”
“Is that a good or bad thing?” he returned roughly.
She ran her tongue over her bottom lip. “A good thing, of course. I like it hard.”
Instant erection. Luckily his body was pressed against Ellie’s back, shielding his enormous hard-on from carnival-goers. Then he had to rethink the word
lucky
as Ellie wiggled her ass against his crotch in obvious enjoyment to his predicament.
“What now?” she asked, turning to face the targets.
Now I take you to bed.
“How do I shoot?”
She’s talking about the gun, you sex-crazed idiot.
“Now pick your target, check your aim, and gently squeeze the trigger.”
“Do I have to be gentle?”
Luke thanked the lord above that she couldn’t see the expression on his face. “Yes.”
“Fine then.” The gun made a quick popping sound as Ellie squeezed the trigger. She connected with one of the targets—a small milk bottle—and it toppled over with a crash.
“I hit it!”
The owner of the booth handed her a monstrous pink stuffed bunny and she held up her prize in triumph. Then she gave a slight frown. “I didn’t think this through,” she admitted with a glance at the enormous prize. “I’m not sure I want to carry this thing for the rest of the night.”
He extended a hand. “I’ll do it.”
“No, I have a better idea.” She took a few quick steps and intercepted a passing couple. With a smile, she bent in front of the little red-haired girl standing beside her parents and said, “Hey there, sweetie, how would you like to take this bunny off my hands?”
The girl, who couldn’t have been older than five or six, looked up at her mother with big blue eyes. “Can I, Mama?”
The couple seemed less than thrilled at the prospect of carting that stuffed animal around but obviously neither one could say no to their daughter’s angelic face. Ellie handed the bunny to the girl and the small family strolled off. With another smile, she turned to Luke. “Those parents probably hate me.”
“They didn’t look excited about the three-foot-tall bunny,” he agreed.
Ellie just shrugged and let her gaze roam the lit-up grounds. “Okay, what should we do next?”
“How about the Ferris wheel?”
She blanched. “I’ll pass.”
“Don’t tell me you don’t like Ferris wheels.”
“No, Ferris wheels are fine. It’s heights that bother me.”
He couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice. “Ellie Dawson, scared of heights? Scared of anything, for that matter? Shocking.”
“Everyone has their weakness.”
He had to give her that. His weakness, ironically, was standing right in front of him.
“Come on,” he coaxed. “Let’s go for a ride.”
Ha! Looked like she wasn’t the only one who’d mastered the art of double entendres. He silently applauded himself for the situation he’d just placed her in. If she said no, it would be as if she was saying no to the
other
ride, the one that had the two of them naked, in bed, burning up the sheets.
He almost rubbed his hands together in glee, knowing from the nervous expression on her face that she was about to back down.
Or maybe not.
“Okay. One ride.” She licked her lips again then lifted her hand to his face and ran it along the curve of his jaw. “You’ll protect me, won’t you, Luke?”
His entire mouth went dry but he still managed to give her the cool, confident look he’d perfected over the years.
“Of course I’ll protect you.”
Chapter Nine
“Why aren’t we moving?”
Ellie clung to Luke’s arm in terror as their Ferris wheel car hovered fifteen feet off the ground, swaying dangerously from side to side. Though they weren’t too high up yet, her nerves skittered like a timid hare in the presence of a mountain lion. Just seeing the tops of people’s heads made her uneasy, confirming her belief that human beings had legs and feet for a reason, and that’s so they could stand on solid land.
“They’re still letting people on. The ride hasn’t started yet.”
Luke’s patient tone didn’t soothe her. She glanced up at the inky-black sky, trying to focus on the white stars sparkling overhead. Looking up, however, only strengthened the realization that she was up too. Not down, on land, where she belonged.
“Let’s get off,” she burst out, her head growing light as the car swayed in the breeze.
Really smooth, Ellie. Way to keep up the sexy vixen act.
It just figured, didn’t it? She’d been doing so well, throwing out provocative little remarks, eliciting a hard-on from Luke, and he’d had to turn the tables by bringing her on this damn Ferris wheel.
Luke shot her a sideways look, not bothering to hide his half-smile. “Relax, Elenore. Nothing’s going to happen. You’re safe.”
She wrung her hands together, cursing herself for her fear. Heights had always bothered her, though she didn’t have an insightful story that revealed why. No past experience, no little anecdotes, no deep-rooted trauma. All she knew was each time she was more than two feet off the ground, her body went numb with panic.
She heard a gate slam, and before she could blink, the car soared upwards. Her stomach churned as they continued to rise, dangling hundreds of feet off the ground.
“I might be sick.”
Luke laughed. “You won’t be sick.”
She grabbed his arm and dug her fingernails in his bare skin and the feathery dark hair over it. “Don’t laugh.”
“Why not?”
“When you laugh, the car shakes. And when the car shakes, my stomach hurts and my—”
“Ellie, calm down.”
The car stopped. It did that every few seconds so the passengers could enjoy the view. Ellie, on the other hand, was enjoying nothing. Not even the sight of the ocean, midnight blue under the dark sky, or the quaint little houses and huts in the distance, could ease her nerves. Sucking in a breath, she squeezed Luke’s arm tighter, riddled with anxiety.
“Okay, you need to distract me, Luke. Seriously.”
He sighed. “How?”
“I don’t know. Talk. Tell me something.”
“What do you want to know?”
For a split second, she forgot all about their location after his easy-going answer. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so willing to talk about himself, and no matter how terrified she was at the moment, she couldn’t pass up the chance to get into his head.
Or his heart.
“Are you seeing anyone back in San Francisco?” The question slipped out before she could stop it.
“I was.” He raked his fingers through his dark hair. “But not anymore.”
“What happened?”
Discomfort flickered in his gray eyes, followed by a flash of bitterness. “I broke things off.”
“Why?” When he didn’t answer, she met his gaze. “Please tell me. Otherwise I’ll start panicking again.”
“Let’s just say Robin wasn’t who I thought she was.” He shifted in his seat, and his shoulder brushed against hers. A rush of heat sizzled through her skin, spreading downward until the juncture between her thighs ached. God, would she ever get used to being this close to Luke?
“Who was she then?”
“A wonderful liar, for one.”
She didn’t answer. Just waited for him to continue. Hoped that he would.
“She wanted to marry me.”
“Did you want to marry her?”
His eyes darkened. “Not at first. Not until she told me she was pregnant.”
She bit back a gasp. Pregnant? Luke had gotten a woman pregnant and broken off the relationship?
“She wasn’t, by the way. Pregnant.” He shot her a knowing glance. “That was her big lie.”
“God, Luke, that’s awful.”
She tried to hold back the fury rising in her throat. The rage. His revelation made her spine stiffen. That a woman would lie about being pregnant just to trap a man into marriage sickened her. It was a slap in the face, another reminder that she’d never be able to provide a man with children. While women like Luke’s ex flaunted their fertility and used it for their own selfish gain. If there was one thing she’d learned these last painful six months, it was that children were a gift. Not a bartering chip.
She felt pressure on her arm. Luke’s hand, big and warm. The look of concern on his face told her that her anger was written all over hers.
“You okay?”
She let out a breath. “I’m fine. I’m just…disgusted by what your ex-girlfriend did.”
The car ascended again, until they were at the very top of the wheel. The height was death defying, yet a nagging pang of curiosity distracted her from looking down. She wanted to voice her thoughts and ask Luke the question biting at her lips, but was fearful of the answer. Desperate for it at the same time.
“Luke…” She bit her lower lip. “Were you disappointed?”
His gray eyes looked almost black under the night sky. “About what?”
“Not being a father.” The question choked out of her throat.
He didn’t answer for a long time, just turned his head and looked in the distance. She admired his strong profile as her fingers tingled with the urge to touch him. Five o’clock shadow dotted his jaw, making him appear rugged and very, very masculine. For the first time all evening, she smelled his aftershave, the spicy scent tickling her nose, adding to the attraction building inside her.
He was so different from any of her high school boyfriends. From Scott and his boyish good looks and childish attitude. Luke was all man. Six feet and one hundred and seventy pounds of pure, unadulterated
male.
She shivered. They were sitting so close right now that all she had to do was turn her head, lean forward an inch and she would feel his lips on hers. Yet her question hung in the air, overpowering her desire, and her chest felt tight, as if her entire life depended on his answer.
“Yeah,” he finally said, meeting her eyes again. “I guess I was a little disappointed.”
A long breath seeped from her lungs, tinged with regret. Well, of course he would want children. As strong and powerful as he was, he was also tender. Gentle. Luke would be a good father, she’d never deny that. But she couldn’t control the pain she felt at his reply. Knowing she would never be the woman who gave him a child. Wondering why that was even important.
She suddenly had the urge to confide in him about her own situation, but the reality of her future sunk in and she knew sharing her sorrow with him wasn’t an option. What would be the point? To see the pity in his eyes when she told him she was barren? The sympathy when she revealed her days of ballet were over? No, thank you. She didn’t want or need anyone’s goddamn sympathy or pity. Not even Luke’s.
“It would be nice, I guess,” he continued, oblivious to her turmoil. “A few of the people I’ve protected had kids, and I always enjoyed being around them.” He shrugged. “But my own? Sure, I’d like it, just not now. And certainly not with a woman who’d lie and scheme to get me to settle down.”
A silence fell as the car started its descent. Ellie couldn’t understand what she was feeling or why her chest ached this way. She didn’t speak as the attendant pulled open the safety bar, or when Luke held her arm and helped her off the platform. They walked past the line of people waiting to get onto the ride, silent, until Luke finally spoke.
“It’s getting late. Let me take you home.”
Standing under the glowing yellow porch light of Ellie’s bungalow, Luke realized he didn’t want the night to end. He watched as she rummaged around in her purse for her keys, wondering if she’d invite him in. Three hours ago he would’ve been surprised
not
to receive an invitation, but the moment they finished their stint on the Ferris wheel, Ellie had done a complete one-eighty.
No more flirting. No more sexy grins. No more sinful innuendos. She’d simply clammed up, became distant and made no further mention of the ultimatum she’d given him earlier.
Had she changed her mind about sleeping with him? Funny, how his plan had been all about getting her to back down, but now that she had, he was strangely disappointed.
“Jeez, it’s amazing how difficult it is to find anything in this purse,” she mumbled, rolling her eyes as she pulled out her key chain. “And all I’ve got in here is a wallet and some gum.”
She stuck the key in the lock, turned it, and opened the door. He held his breath, wondering what would happen next. Would it be
Goodnight, Luke
or
Come in?
Goodnight. It had to be that. He had no business wanting to prolong the evening. He’d already won. She’d backed down. Now was the time to return to the motel and devise another way to convince her to come home.
“So…” Her soft voice trailed off as she glanced up at him. The porch light framed her face like a halo, making her blue eyes shine and her dark hair lighten to a deep caramel. “Viv cancelled the second show and I don’t plan on going to sleep yet. Would you like to come in for a cup of coffee?”
Say no.
“Sure.”
Idiot.
He sighed and followed her into the darkened front hall, grateful that at least there hadn’t been any sexual undertones to her offer. She really did seem to have changed her mind. As they headed inside he found himself engaging in his new favorite past time—watching her ass sway as she walked. His mouth watered at each stolen glimpse.
She flicked on the light, and a warm glow filled the living room. He looked around and absorbed the cozy atmosphere Ellie had created. All the cluttered bookshelves reminded him of how much she liked to read, and as he stepped toward her CD rack, his eyes roamed over the numerous classical titles.
Did she put on one of these CDs at night? Mozart, maybe? Did she slip into her old leotards and dance by herself?
“How do you take your coffee?” She slipped out of her sandals, kicked them aside, and then edged barefoot toward the doorway of the kitchen.
“Black.”
Her mouth tilted in a knowing smile. “Of course. I’ll be right back.”
He made himself comfortable on the plush sofa, listening to the sounds of Ellie bustling around the kitchen. She was only gone for a few moments, yet her absence bothered him. It wasn’t until she reentered the room with two steaming mugs in her hands that he relaxed again.
She handed him one of the mugs, then settled on the opposite edge of the couch. “Careful, it’s hot.”
He watched as she blew over the rim of her cup, the cool puffs of air from her mouth blending with the steam rising from the hot liquid. Then, curling her knees beneath her, she took a hesitant sip before placing the cup on the coffee table.
“What did you mean when you said ‘of course’?” he asked. “Is there something wrong with the way I drink my coffee?”
She shrugged, causing her long dark strands to cascade over her shoulders. Her hair looked silky to the touch. Luke’s fingers tingled.
“It just wasn’t surprising you drink it black,” she replied. “You know, how a person drinks their coffee tells a lot about them.”
He looked at her with interest. “Really?”
“Sure. Take Josh, for instance. He claims he likes it black, being the big strong tough guy he is.” She grinned. “But when no one’s looking, he dumps in a few sugar cubes. Tough guy hiding his soft side.”
“What does my preference say about me?”
The tip of her tongue darted out and licked the seams of her lips. “Well, black implies strength, maybe some bitterness.”
“I’m not bitter,” he interjected.
She ignored him. “It hints at stubbornness too. But look at the way you drink it. You hold the cup tightly, again implying strength, but your sips are slow, methodical almost. You like to be in control, even in the way you drink your coffee. But you swallow slowly, as if savoring the liquid, however bitter it is.”
“And what does that say?” he asked, strangely fascinated.
“I don’t know. Respect? Appreciation?”
He set down his mug and folded his hands over his lap. It was a little unnerving how she’d just pegged him completely on the basis of how he drank his coffee. Stubborn, he was that all right. Controlled? Hell, yeah. Though he’d never realized coffee could convey all that.
“What about you?” he said suddenly. “What does your drink say about you?”
“Nothing.”
“What do you mean, nothing?”
She gave an impish smile that lit up her whole face. “I don’t drink coffee.” She held out her cup. “See, tea.”
He rolled his eyes. “On the contrary, I bet tea says a lot about you.”
“Fine. Tell me.”
There she was again, the sassy Ellie he’d always liked. Her blue eyes glimmered with challenge and amusement and before he could stop himself he moved closer to her. His thigh grazed hers. Too close yet not close enough.
“Well, you’re gentle, soft.” He dipped his head and breathed in the aroma of her tea. “Sweet, too.”
She snorted, and the sound brought a smile to his lips. “Gentle, soft and sweet? I can’t say I’ve ever been described as that before.”
He held up his hand. “I wasn’t finished. Give me the cup.” She handed it over and he took a long sip. “See, no sugar. It’s flavored, but a little bitter. Strength.” He took another sip. “With a hint of cinnamon. Spicy.” He finally gave her back the cup.
“You’re pretty good at this.” She laughed. “Maybe we should go into business together, ripping off strangers with fake drink fortunes.”
She placed the cup on the table again and looked at him, her mouth open as if she was about to say something. Before she could, he cut her off, the words slipping out of his mouth before he could stop them.
“Dance for me.”
Her eyes widened. “What?”
“I want to see you dance.” He swallowed against the dryness of his throat. “Do you have any of your old ballet costumes here?”