Smile, dance, flirt a little.
Just because there was an attraction there didn’t mean it had to be acted on. They were both adults, for crying out loud—not some hormone-riddled teenagers. Surely they could merely enjoy the buzz?
The fact they were both aware of it, the fact that it was taboo, ramped up the buzz even further. It felt like some delicious, unspoken secret between them. Made it sexier, somehow. Made her insides quiver and her outsides hyperaware of the way velvet felt against her skin—soft but abrasive at the same time. How it rubbed at her nipples, tickled her belly, smoothed over her hips.
Things shifted inside her and Claudia squeezed her thighs together to suppress the sudden tingle that had started between her legs. She squirmed against the bed to relieve it.
It didn’t help.
If anything it reminded her how damn long it had been since anyone had been between her legs and she wished she were someone who could just go out and find anyone to scratch an itch. If she were, she’d march down to that ballroom right now and drag Raoul back to her room.
And he’d come willingly.
But she couldn’t lie down with Raoul while Luke was on her mind. It wouldn’t be right. And probably not very conducive to a satisfying sexual experience.
But, God help her, if she didn’t have a satisfying sexual experience soon she was going to have to invest some serious cash in a latex boyfriend—the best one on the market.
The phone rang and she groped for it in the semi-dark, snatching it up, pleased to be relieved from having to think about the depressing state of her sex life.
Her non-existent sex life.
‘Avery, if this is you I hope Jonah is there to protect you because I swear to God I’m going to throttle you. The red dress? Bad idea.’
‘It’s not Avery.’
Claudia shut her eyes as the deep tones, made even sexier by the touch of English class, undulated directly into her ear.
Damn.
‘The red dress wasn’t a bad idea.’
She opened her eyes. ‘Luke...don’t...’
‘You looked hot in the red dress.’
Claudia’s belly flopped over inside her. ‘Luke.’
There was silence for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry I was a giant arse,’ he said.
‘No,’ Claudia sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on about stuff that was none of my business.’
More silence until Claudia began to wonder if he hadn’t hung up or nodded off.
‘There’s a Love Boat marathon on cable.’
Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘You’re just screwing with me now, right?’
He chuckled and goose bumps marched down the side of her neck and the length of her arm. ‘Hand on heart, pinky swear, I’m not. Turn on your TV.’
Claudia reached for the remote, which sat beside the phone. ‘Which channel?’ she asked as she pushed the power button.
‘Two six three.’
Claudia scrolled through until she found the channel and there, before her eyes, was Julie with her clipboard. The electronic guide told her they were running back-to-back episodes until six in the morning.
‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ she murmured.
Luke laughed. ‘Tell you what, I have a bottle of wine. How about I come to yours and we watch it together?’
‘You hate The Love Boat.’
‘Consider it my penance.’
‘Lying on a pillow-top mattress in a five-star hotel, drinking wine and watching television is penance?’
‘I know, right?’ he said and Claudia could hear the laughter in his voice. ‘I don’t know how I’ll bear it.’
Lost in the sheer sexiness of his voice all low and smiley in her ear, Claudia didn’t say anything for a few moments.
‘Oh, come on,’ he cajoled. ‘For old times’ sake?’
Claudia knew that could be dangerous. Wine and nostalgia. Not a good mix. But if he was willing to try and put the strange dance-floor incident behind them and get back to where they had been—lifelong friends—then she could at least meet him halfway.
‘Okay, a couple of episodes but I’m coming to yours.’ At least that way she was in control of the situation. She said how long she stayed and what time she left. And she could leave if things got weird again.
Or if her libido demanded she throw caution to the wind and jump Luke’s bones.
* * *
‘You had to wear the dress?’ Luke said as he opened the door to her five minutes later. Was she trying to kill him?
‘You’re still in your clothes,’ she pointed out.
‘Yes.’ But he didn’t look like that in his clothes. ‘I thought you’d be more...casual.’
She shrugged. ‘I let out my hair. What did you do?’
‘I...shaved,’ he said.
Claudia snorted. Of course he had. God forbid his whiskers should ever poke through his skin. ‘Well, it was the dress or my pyjamas.’
Luke stepped aside so she could enter. ‘Pyjamas would have been fine,’ he said as he watched her velvet-swathed derrière sway enticingly back and forth.
‘The dress covers more,’ she said.
Luke’s eyes stayed glued to her shrink-wrapped butt—technically the dress might have covered more. It did, after all, fall to her ankles, but it left nothing to the imagination.
Dear God, in the name of all that is holy, let her be wearing underwear.
‘Pull up some mattress,’ he said. ‘They’ve just started a new episode. It’s one of the Christmas ones. I’ll pour you some wine.’
Claudia should have hesitated about lying on his bed, especially with what had happened earlier but, as he said, it was just like old times. Him, her, some ham and pineapple pizza and The Love Boat.
‘Is there a Hawaiian pizza on the room-service menu?’ she asked as she kicked off her shoes and took the unrumpled side of the bed.
Luke laughed. ‘Nope. Already looked.’
‘It’s okay,’ she said, her eyes drawn to the flickering television screen, which had been muted. ‘I’m too full anyway.’
Luke approached with the glasses of wine. ‘Cheers,’ he said as he handed one over and they clinked them together.
‘Are we supposed to be lip-reading?’ Claudia asked as Luke pushed the remote and TV guide aside and got comfortable on his side of the bed.
‘I thought we could do that thing you see on comedy shows sometimes, where we make up the dialogue as it goes along.’
‘Ha. Funny guy,’ she said, reaching for the remote that was stranded in what she supposed was the no-go zone between them and unmuted it.
He chuckled as the volume returned. ‘You’ve seen these episodes enough to know them word for word, surely?’
‘Shh,’ Claudia said, ignoring his quip. ‘I’m trying to listen.’
And after that they didn’t really speak much. They passed the odd comment about how dated it seemed and about some of the more lurid seventies and eighties fashion.
Claudia yawned as the credits rolled on the second episode. She’d snuggled down amongst the pillows more and was lying on her side, her head propped on her open palm, her elbow bent. ‘I should go,’ she murmured.
She was feeling kind of mellow though after two glasses of wine. The lightning had ceded to rain and it beat steadily against the windows lending a cosiness to Luke’s easy companionship. It was nice and familiar and Claudia was beginning to think she’d imagined the tension earlier.
This was how she remembered her relationship with Luke—nice and easy. Uncomplicated. Maybe this was all they had? All they were destined to have?
Maybe they were at their best when they were stuck in this Love Boat time warp?
‘I really should go,’ she said
again.
But then the opening song finished again and the scene opened with Julie and Gopher chatting. ‘Oh, I always wanted them to get together.’ She sighed. ‘Do you remember?’
‘Yeah, I remember,’ he said.
‘They took their time about it,’ she muttered, her gaze firmly fixed on the television.
Luke chuckled and she dragged her eyes off the screen. ‘What?’ she asked.
‘Nothing.’
Claudia shot him a wry smile. ‘You hate it, don’t you?’
Luke shook his head, his gaze roaming her face. ‘I love watching you watch it.’
The comment should have been sweet. Uncomplicated. But his gaze brushed her mouth and suddenly the nice and easy evaporated.
Maybe this wasn’t all they were destined to have...
‘Pleased I amuse you,’ she said, deciding to just ignore him. She laid her head on the pillow and snuggled in letting The Love Boat take her away to a far less complicated world.
Where a woman with a clipboard could get her man.
* * *
When she woke several hours later the room was darker, quieter. No television to spread a flickering light or fill the room with noise. Only the digital clock numbers cast a pall on the situation.
And the situation was not good. She’d fallen asleep. So had he.
They really needed to stop doing this.
She was still on her side but had wriggled right down and her dress had ridden up a little and tangled around her knees. One hand was tucked under her cheek, the other hand was lying palm down on Luke’s chest.
He had also shuffled down, lying supine with his head rolled in her direction, both his hands lying loosely beside him. His hair was too short to be rumpled but that wasn’t where she was focused. The red glow from the clock drew her attention to his mouth. It illuminated his lips, slack in slumber, and showcased them for what they were—nicely full, perfectly delineated.
Just like the warm muscles she could feel beneath her hand.
Her fingers itched to touch his ruthlessly smooth face. To move along his jaw as if she were reading braille, carefully seeking out any patch that he might have missed with his razor. Even if it was just a single solitary scrape against the pads of her fingers.
His chest rose and fell evenly beneath her palm and she could feel the thud of his heart—sure and regular. The same could not be said for her own. Her pulse tripped madly, knowing this...voyeurism was wrong. Knowing even thinking about touching him was wrong.
Her breath turned ragged at the mere thought of crossing that line. But...
He’d done it to her, hadn’t he? Watched her while she’d slept?
Watched. An angel had suddenly appeared on her shoulder. He didn’t touch.
But you were naked. A devil sat on her other shoulder whispering tempting truths.
And it was true. At least Luke was fully clothed.
That doesn’t make it okay, the angel insisted.
Go ahead, it’s fine, the devil urged.
Claudia had never been more tempted in her life. It was just a tiny touch to his face, after all. Light as a feather. He was sound asleep. He probably wouldn’t even feel it.
And then with no conscious control, her hand was moving anyway. Slowly, tentatively, as if he might wake any second. Her fingers made landfall at hard jaw, the pads practically sliding down the slope of his throat his face was that smooth.
She paused, tensed, waited. Held her breath.
Her heart thundered.
Nothing happened. He didn’t move. He didn’t shift in his sleep. He didn’t wake and demand to know what the hell she was doing.
Claudia eked out a ragged breath that sounded freaking cyclonic in the heavy silence of the room. Then, when she was sure he was staying asleep she trailed her finger from the angle of his jaw to his chin. It was less than a touch, more like a butterfly whisper across his skin, a flutter.
And not a single patch of rough whisker to be found. He was baby smooth, talcum soft. Like his lips. Her gaze zeroed in on the two perfect pillows, illuminated to perfection by the red digital glow.
How many times had she fantasised about kissing that mouth? Too many to count.
And there it was, right in front of her.
Her pulse kicked up another notch as the devil whispered, Kiss him, and she contemplated doing just that.
That would definitely wake him up.
But what if he rejected her advances? It would be embarrassing and awkward. For a very long time. It would probably even kill her. She’d probably die of mortification on the spot.
It would certainly be hard to come back from.
Another sinful whisper. But what if he doesn’t?
Her finger inched towards his mouth, the very tip lightly touching the bow of his top lip. He shook his head slightly as if a mozzie had buzzed him and Claudia froze. His tongue darted out and swiped along where she had touched. But he settled back to sleep again quickly.
Her heart was beating so loudly now she was surprised it alone hadn’t woken him up. Hell, she was surprised it hadn’t triggered a tsunami.
The possibilities of what could happen here scared the living daylights out of her—the number of ways he could reject her and crush her spirit made her cringe. But she realised something else as she waited like a scared rabbit in the shadows for her heart rate to settle. In a few short months Luke would be heading back to London, and the thought that she might never get another opportunity to show him how she felt suddenly scared her a hell of a lot more.
Screw it.
And the devil smiled.
FOURTEEN
Luke drifted up out of the many layers of sleep to a pair of lips brushing along his. Light and gentle but definitely a mouth. Definitely a kiss. His lips responded on autopilot to the pressure before his brain could compute the facts.
He opened his eyes. Claudia?
‘Claude?’ he murmured, her lips so close they brushed against each other again.
Claudia pulled back abruptly, clearly startled. ‘Oh, God,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry...I just...I...’
Every cell in Luke’s body stood to attention. Claudia was kissing him? ‘You just decided to...kiss me?’ he clarified.
Claudia shuffled away a bit, put some distance between them as she rolled back onto her elbow, propping her head up with her hand. She could feel the heat in her face and was grateful it was too dark to see the resulting pink in her cheeks.
‘I’m...I don’t know what happened. I was just...no.’ She shook her head. ‘There are no excuses for it.’
Luke was fully awake now. Claudia had kissed him. A delicious buzz took up residence in his lips as the tension from the dance floor revisited. He rolled up onto his elbow too, facing her, his gaze drifting to her breasts where a decent amount of soft swell made the cleavage interesting.
His breath hitched a little.
His pulse spiked a lot.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he said. ‘I think I’d like to hear them.’
Claudia swallowed as her nipples hardened beneath his blatant gaze and part of her just wanted to grab his hand and bring it to one of them, feel him squeeze it again as he did that night all those weeks ago now.
But she was in more than enough trouble.
‘You’re always so...clean shaven...so smooth...I was trying to find out if you’d missed a patch...or something.’
‘So, you were checking my lips for stubble as well? With...your mouth?’
Claudia cringed at how bad it sounded. She’d known this was going to be humiliating but had that stopped her? No.
Stupid devil.
Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘Your mouth...God...your mouth...’
Claudia shut her eyes. How could she explain this?
Tell him you lost your mind temporarily and apologise, the angel demanded.
Screw that, the devil butted in. Tell him it looked so goddamn pretty and kissable in the glowing red light.
Claudia groaned, wishing they’d both shut the hell up.
Luke felt a leap in his belly as the tortured little moan escaped her mouth. Every one of her words had gone straight to his groin and stroked. He wanted to kiss her very badly, to put her out of her misery, but the moment was too drenched in seething sexuality to let her off that easily.
He wanted to hear what she had to say about his mouth. And then he was going to put it on her cleavage and suck her nipples deep inside it.
‘My mouth?’
Claudia’s eyes snapped open at the prompt that sounded more growl than request. He was really going to make her say it.
‘I was...curious, all right? I’ve thought about it...about kissing it...for ages. And suddenly...there’s this devil on my shoulder and it was saying how pretty your mouth looked in the light from the clock and it did...it really did. And then I was...’
Luke chuckled. He was sure she wasn’t the first person to use the-devil-made-me-do-it defence but she sounded so damned confounded by it, he couldn’t help but be amused.
And flattered. He was flattered all the way to hell and back.
Yeah...he knew a little about that devil.
Luke reached out, bridging the short distance between them, sliding his hand onto her nape, drifting his thumb up and down. It came into contact with the knot at her neck where the halter straps of her dress tied and it took all his willpower not to undo it.
‘How long?’ he asked, his gaze dropping briefly to her mouth. ‘How long have you wanted to kiss me?’
Claudia knew this was the perfect opportunity to lie. He couldn’t see inside her head. He didn’t know the truth. She could just say ever since that day you groped me. Or since last week. Or something flip. But his gaze was heavy and it seemed to bore straight to the root of her honesty.
And besides, this seemed a moment for honesty. No matter how much it might come back to bite her in the butt.
Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle Page 12
