Handsome Devil

by Amii Lorin

  The sun was a brazen disk in a cobalt-blue sky. The air was dry, the river placid, and the passengers animated and noisy. Though working to move the raft along, Selena was enjoying every minute of it.

  To her relief and delight, the women writers were not only pleasant, but intelligent, witty and determined to make the most of their research trip. They plied Selena with questions and listened attentively to her answers. Two of them even jotted down notes to refresh their memories later.

  By midafternoon, the temperature was in the nineties, but the women didn’t complain. They laughed as one woman in her forties declared that a good sweat would not only clean their facial pores but melt some of the lard clinging to their hips, as well.

  They were bantering away, Selena laughing with them, when the first rifle shot rang out. Exclamations erupted from each of the women.

  “What in hell was that!”

  “That wasn’t a shot...I hope!”

  “Damn, that sounded like a shot to me!”

  Another shot rang out, silencing the chatter. Selena gasped in disbelief as she felt the bullet whiz past her head. “Good God!” she cried. ‘That shot was aimed at us!” Springing into action, she applied her strength to the oars, heading for the American side of the river, opposite from where the shots had come.

  “Can we do anything to help?” the youngest member of the group asked, wide-eyed.

  “Yes,” Selena grunted, pulling on the oars. “The instant the raft touches shore, dive for cover behind those rocks.” She jerked her head to indicate a jumble of huge boulders close to the bank.

  Without wasting breath on screams, or even whimpers the women scrambled from the craft the instant it scraped the sandy shoreline. Selena was right behind them. Panting, they dashed for the protective cover of the rocks. A bullet chipped a piece from a boulder as Selena followed the last woman around it.

  The oldest group member, a woman in her mid-fifties, swore angrily as she grabbed Selena’s arm and yanked her to safety. “That clown across the river is one sick character.”

  Selena said, “That clown over there is probably one sick drug runner.”

  The startlingly pretty woman in the group groaned. “Larry didn’t want me to come on this trip. Now I’ll probably have to spend the rest of my life listening to him chant “I told you so, I told you so.”

  Selena couldn’t help herself, she had to laugh at the woman’s menacing voice and the other women joined in. Their laughter was abruptly terminated by a bullet zinging overhead.

  “Oh, Lord, what’ll we do?” One woman asked the question, and all of them looked at Selena.

  “We stay put,” she answered. “He’s got us pinned down here, but he can’t shoot through rock.”

  “But what if he decides to cross the river?”

  Sliding to the ground to sit with her back against the boulder, Selena closed her eyes. “Then, ladies, I’m afraid we’ll be in some serious trouble.”

  Luke had deserted his post at the counter. He was seated in his employer’s chair, booted feet propped on Will’s paper-strewn desk. He was bored. He was restless. And he was missing Selena something fierce. The sound of tires screeching to a stop in front of the office drew his eyes to the door. An instant later, Jasper Chance barged into the room.

  “Raphael just ran into the store to tell me that some drug-running bastard has Selena and her party trapped in the rocks downriver.”

  The desk chair tumbled backward as Luke sprang to his feet

  “What do you mean, trapped?” he demanded.

  “The guy’s firing on them with a 30-30,” Jasper said, and turned the air blue with a string of curses.

  Luke froze for an instant. Then he started for the door, his veins flowing with ice. “Can you loan me a gun?” he asked Jasper, pausing beside him. Jasper responded with a sharp nod.

  “Where are you going, Luke?” Will called as Luke strode through the doorway.

  “Hunting,” Luke said without looking back.

  Jasper was right behind him. “I own two guns, I’ll go with you.”

  Luke and Jasper crossed the river a few miles from the tour office. Jasper’s friend Raphael provided horses for them, along with directions to where the sniper was located. Luke hadn’t been on horseback for years. Yet, after settling into the saddle, he handled the animal like an expert

  “Gracias, amigo,” Luke murmured, kneeing the horse to get him moving. He didn’t hear Raphael’s response.

  There wasn’t one man across the river from the boulders, there were three. Following the echo of the rifle reports, Luke and Jasper galloped as close to the area as they could without being heard, then walked their horses even closer. Dismounting, they agreed in whispers to circle around the three men and close in from opposite directions.

  But they weren’t the first rescuers on the scene. There were four narcotics agents, all sharpshooters, positioning themselves for clear shots. Luke, following an unfamiliar desire to destroy another human being, moved in too close. He drew the drug runners’ fire, which revealed their cover. The narcotics agents shot back, and their aim was better. Within minutes, it was all over but the shouting—and some loud yells from a drug runner who had taken a bullet in the leg.

  Leaving the snipers in the agents’ capable hands, Luke and Jasper remounted and swam their horses across the river. Fear rode tandem with Luke.

  “Selena!” he called, as his horse clambered onto the narrow sandy bank.

  “Luke!” Selena cried, darting around a boulder.

  “Oh, God! Are you trying to get yourself killed? There’s a man with a rifle over there!” Unmindful of her own safety, she ran down the bank, flinging herself into his arms as he dismounted.

  Shutting his eyes, Luke crushed her precious body against his thundering heart. “Are you all right?” Pushing her away, he skimmed a wild-eyed look over her trembling body. “You weren’t hit, wounded?”

  “No.” Gasping calming breaths, Selena shook her head. “I’m fine and, thank God, so are my ladies.” She turned to smile at the women, who were slowly emerging from behind the rocks.

  “You ladies okay?” Jasper called.

  A chorus of yesses rang out, accompanied by a dry retort from the oldest woman, “That little incident did my heart good. The old ticker hasn’t beat so hard and fast with excitement since the last time I had sex.”

  The laughter the remark generated was needed, and it was appreciated by Selena, who now faced getting the women back to the tour office. But when she announced her decision to abort the trip, it was met by an outcry of protests.

  “You can’t continue,” Luke said, sweeping the group with a stern expression. His declaration was received with coolly voiced ridicule.

  “You think not?”

  “Wanna bet?”

  “On whose authority?”

  “Watch us!”

  Outnumbered, Luke looked at Selena. Agreeing with the ladies, Selena grinned.

  “There’s your answer,” she said, shrugging off his frown. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

  “I’ll be waiting.” Luke repeated his statement of the day before, then added, “At my place.”

  * * * *

  The rest of the trip went off without a hitch. To Selena’s pleasant surprise, the women were even more animated than before, and proved to be interesting and, at times, hilarious companions. When the trip was over and they were back at the tour office, they told a relieved Will that they had gathered enough research for several books. Then they made Selena promise to read them and provided publication dates for her.

  Smiling, Selena waved them off before jumping back on the bus to return to the warehouse to stow the gear. When the job was completed, she stood staring into space, irresolute and uncertain.

  For over two days, she had refused to speculate on her meeting with Luke. Now the time had come. He had risked his life for her. To Selena’s knowledge, Luke didn’t own a gun of his own. She didn’t know if he even knew how to u
se one. Yet he had managed to get a rifle and ride to her defense. His action said more about his feelings for her than his words ever could.

  He loved her. Selena knew it as surely as she knew that she loved him. But did Luke know it? Perhaps it was time for her to find out. Exhaling, she squared her shoulders and walked to her car. She’d go to his place, as he had asked—no, ordered—her to do. But first, she needed a shower.

  Selena was clean and fresh, her loose hair gleaming with shampooed highlights when she parked her car in Luke’s driveway. Lights blazed from the windows, though there was no sign of Luke.

  Selena stepped from her car nervous, excited and dreading that he’d deny his love, but offer his body in return for the use of hers. The haunting strains of Tchaikovsky’s first piano concerto floated on the evening breeze, wrapping Selena within their sweeping folds. She groaned and closed her eyes.

  She could have handled Handel.

  But Tchaikovsky? She was lost. Like a sleepwalker, Selena followed the music along the side of the house, onto the patio, then through the open doors into the living room. Luke was reclining on a club chair, head back, his eyes closed. She didn’t make a sound and yet, somehow he knew she was there. He opened his eyes and stood up. He didn’t say a word, but she felt him calling to her. She walked toward him. He held out his arms. Feeling like she was going home, Selena walked into his embrace and raised her mouth for his kiss.

  “I missed you.” His words were a whisper against her mouth.

  “I missed you, too,” she murmured.

  “I want you.”

  “I want you more.”

  Lifting his head, Luke stared into her glowing eyes. His smile was warm and loving, and sexy as the devil. “We can talk, later,” he said, nibbling on her bottom lip.

  “If we must,” she replied, sighing.

  “I have explanations I need to give to you.”

  “I’ll listen.”

  Luke exhaled in relief. “There are questions I have to ask you,”

  “I’ll answer them,” she promised.

  “One thing,” he murmured, pulling back to look at her.

  She sighed again. “Will you cut to the chase?”

  “I love you.” Luke held his breath.

  Selena smiled. “I love you more.”

  Laughing, Luke swept her into his arms. “We’ll see about that.” Cradling her close, he strode to the bedroom.

  Epilogue

  “I think he resembles our side of the family, Luke.” Hank Branson made the observation, peering into the solemn face of his nephew who, along with his parents, was making a belated Christmas visit to the Branson’s home in Pennsylvania.

  “Resembles?” Laughing, Hank’s wife, Laura, stared at the infant in her arms. “He looks exactly like Luke.”

  “Yeah.” Luke’s voice was rich with smug satisfaction. “He’s a handsome little devil.”

  “Really?” Selena gave her husband an innocent, thus suspicious look. “I think he looks more like a tiny, wrinkled, grouchy old man. But if you insist that Chase looks like you—well...” She shrugged as her voice faded.

  Luke worked at a scowl, but lost the effort in the laughter ringing through the room. In less than a year, he had lost the knack for effective scowling— a loss that was all due to Selena’s love.

  Absorbing the atmosphere of contentment in his brother’s home, Luke gazed at his wife with eyes glowing from inner happiness. Selena was his everything. The advent of their son, born the month before on Christmas morning, expanded the boundaries of Luke’s everything.

  Luke adored his son, though in truth, he had been hoping for a daughter. He missed his firstborn and knew he would always miss her, but Luke had not wished for a girl to replace the daughter he had lost. No, Luke had hoped for a daughter simply because he thrilled at the idea of a reproduction of Selena.

  “Luke.” Selena’s whisper interrupted his introspection, and the melting softness in her eyes drew him to her side.

  “Hey, Laura and I would be delighted to babysit if you two want to go to your room and be alone for a while,” Hank offered with a suggestive, understanding grin.

  A faint flush of embarrassment invaded Selena’s cheeks. Unperturbed by his brother’s teasing, Luke returned the grin, along with a dry retort. “It’s close enough to bedtime—I can contain my itch until the house is quiet and Chase is settled for the night.” He arched one winged eyebrow. “But, since your little one is already settled for the night, Selena and I will excuse the two of you.”

  Laura sighed and sent Selena a woman-to-woman look. “Do they ever think of anything other than sex?”

  In turn, Selena gave the question due consideration before replying. “Luke occasionally thinks about food.”

  Luke wasn’t offended, he was amused...and reminded. “Now that you mention it, I’m hungry.”

  “Yeah,” Hank seconded, laughing at his wife’s long-suffering expression. “How about a snack?”

  “Yeah,” Laura echoed in a wry tone. “How about that. It must be all of two and a half hours since dinner.” She glanced at Selena as she placed the baby into Hank’s competent care. “Want to help me rustle up something to eat for these two starving males?”

  Selena heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose I’d better. Luke gets sooo cranky when he’s hungry.” She gave him a sweet smile in passing. He retaliated by grabbing her and planting a swift, hard kiss on her surprised lips. Flustered but laughing, she followed Laura into the kitchen,

  Hank’s shrewd eyes didn’t miss a nuance of the scene. “You know,” he murmured, “I haven’t seen you looking this happy in years, Luke.”

  “I haven’t felt this happy in...” Luke’s voice trailed away then. Grinning, he went on, “I’ve never felt this happy.”

  “The bitterness is gone?”

  Luke’s nod was decisive. “Yes.”

  “Good.” Hank sighed his relief, “Now, I have one other question to ask.”

  “And that is?”

  “Where did you and Selena ever come up with the name Chase for the baby?”

  Luke had a flashing, vivid memory of Selena impatiently telling him to cut to the chase that day she had come to his house. A reminiscent smile curved his lips. “The answer to that, dear brother, is classified information.”

  It was late. The house was silent. Chase was sleeping like...a baby. Luxuriating in the warm afterglow of delicious lovemaking, Selena curled into Luke’s possessive embrace and brushed her mouth over his ear.

  “I was only teasing earlier this evening,” she murmured between tiny kisses and nips to his earlobe. “Like you, our son is handsome. But, unlike you, my love, he is not a devil.”

  “No?” Shivering in reaction to her caresses, Luke responded by trailing his fingers the length of her spine.

  “No!” Selena replied on a gasp of pleasure. “Since he is the direct result of our love, I think of Chase as our little Christmas angel.”

  Tilting his head to look at her with devilish intent, Luke grinned and said, “In that case, what do you say to the idea of getting to work on producing a girl for next Christmas?”

  The night, and Luke’s hungry mouth, registered Selena’s eager agreement.

  For

  Rita Clay Estrada,

  Sonny and Jan Reitenauer,

  Parris and Ted Bonds

  and

  Marshall Bonds:

  For their shared companionship and laughter during the Texas research experience.

  Copyright © 1990 by Amii Loren/Joan Hohl

  Originally published by Silhouette Desire [ISBN 9780373056125]

  Electronically published in 2014 by Belgrave House

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  No portion of this book may be reprinted in whole or in part, by printing, faxing, E-mail, copying electronically or by any other means without permission of the publisher. For more information, contact Belgrave House, 190 Belgrave Avenue, San Francisco, CA 94117-4228

  http://www.Belg
raveHouse.com

  Electronic sales: ebooks@belgravehouse.com

  This is a work of fiction. All names in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to any person living or dead is coincidental.