The Man From her Wayward Past

by Susan Stephens

  ‘It does,’ Luke agreed. ‘It tells me Margaret has no option, because she has nowhere else to go. It tells me the Sundowner isn’t just failing—it has already failed. And what are you going to do about it? You don’t have any money. You’ve given it all away.’

  ‘Says one of the biggest charity supporters in the world.’

  ‘I can afford to give. You can’t. You’ve got no practical skills.’

  ‘I learned a lot on my degree course,’ she argued.

  ‘Like what?’ he scoffed. ‘Fifty ways to fold a napkin?’

  ‘That’s it!’ Lucia exploded, completely forgetting the disparity in their size as she sprang up.

  Luke stood too. ‘Before I go anywhere you’re going to hear some home truths, and you won’t like them, Lucia. You’re great at starting things, but you’ve never finished anything in your life.’

  ‘Get out!’ She was beyond anger now. ‘I should have known better than to think you are any different to my brothers. Go on!’ she yelled with a furious gesture, pummelling impotent fists against Luke’s stone chest. ‘Get out of my caravan.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere without you.’ He planted himself in her way.

  ‘So what are you going to do? Throw me over your shoulder and carry me out?’

  ‘If I have to.’

  They glared at each other. Passion had never run higher between them, but she wasn’t prepared for what happened next—not nearly. Yanking her close, Luke kissed her, and his firm, sexy lips worked their magic.

  Of course she fought him. Of course she tried to push him away. But Luke was a rock—a fierce, ravenous, hot rock. Her nipples tightened and heat pooled between her thighs. She’d thought she’d never be able to feel this way again, but her reaction to Luke was like the plug of a volcano blowing after centuries of hot lava building up. She had to hold her hand across her mouth when he abruptly let her go, as if that could hide the proof of her arousal. She was shaking—and not from fear. Luke hadn’t given fear time to set in. She was shaking with shock, with anger and with desire.

  ‘You’re vulnerable,’ Luke said flatly.

  ‘And you were just proving your point?’ she demanded incredulously. Her brain cells clinked feverishly into line. That hadn’t been a brush, a tease or even a trial kiss. That had been a full-on, body-melting, fear-destroying sensual assault that could never, ever be mistaken for a brotherly peck.

  ‘I’m just putting you back in touch with reality,’ Luke said, managing to look sexier than ever as he leaned back against the door.

  ‘Nice technique you have for doing that. Am I supposed to thank you?’ It was hard to do battle with her very insistent pulse throbbing, but she drove on. ‘I think you should go now.’

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until you calm down.’

  ‘Please yourself.’

  Her chest was heaving with … yes, passion. But as they glared at each other she thought of her own climb back, her fight to regain her old self, and Margaret’s dream to restore her guest house. Plus, wasn’t Luke’s offer of a job the perfect opportunity to take that first step on her own emotional to-do list?

  ‘Maybe I have found it hard to finish what I’ve started in the past,’ she admitted stiffly, ‘but I’m totally committed to what has to be done here. It means a lot to me.’

  ‘As it does to me,’ Luke said quietly, his stare dropping to her lips.

  ‘Okay,’ she said, coming to a decision. ‘I’ll make a deal with you. When I’ve proved myself, maybe—just maybe, mark you—I’ll kiss you back.’

  Luke laughed, and the tension between them started to ease, but they both knew that any thought of them being like brother and sister in future was out of the window. Lucia only wished she could tell Luke that she would never be able to make good on all the sexual tension between them, but how could she admit that she was damaged and tainted and frightened? Or that she could handle a business relationship, but anything else between them was impossible?

  ‘At least life won’t be dull from now on,’ he remarked, eyeing her with humour. ‘Though whether it will match up to your experience in London …’

  She flinched. Damn it, she actually flinched—and Luke saw it. She hadn’t seen that one coming. She should have known Luke would never let it go until she told him the truth about the day that sleazy concierge had decided a pampered Argentinian princess would be easy pickings. Just thinking about it now made her feel sick.

  ‘Lucia?’

  She must have paled. ‘What?’ she said, swallowing back bile.

  ‘Why won’t you tell me what happened in London?’

  ‘You still don’t get it, do you, Luke? I can handle it.’

  He held his hands up palms flat in apparent surrender, and in fairness to Luke she had relied on him and her brothers for so long it was no wonder he felt the need to ride in and save her like the White Knight. But she had changed, and things would be different from now on. She needed no one to save her.

  ‘When you speak to Nacho, just tell him you’ve seen me and I’m safe. You can also tell him that I’ve got a roof over my head.’

  ‘A leaking tin roof.’

  ‘And that I won’t do anything stupid,’ she added firmly.

  Unfortunately these were famous last words. As she moved towards the door she somehow managed to spill the contents of the birthday gift bag from her friends, and as Luke stared down in dumb amazement, he saw laid out in front of him, like some offering to a yoni god, an industrial-sized packet of condoms, a pair of red crotchless knickers and a very adult toy.

  ‘Nothing stupid?’ he murmured.

  ‘Goodbye, Luke.’ She had no intention of explaining her gifts to him. Where the job was concerned Luke could call her to account, but the gifts from her friends were none of his damn business.

  ‘Let me know if you’re going to take the job, Lucia.’

  ‘I think you know I will.’

  ‘Then as soon as I have an agreement from Margaret I’ll have a contract drawn up for you,’ he said, giving her a keen glance before opening the door.

  She closed her eyes as Luke left the van, but she could still feel him in every fibre of her being. Being with Luke was like brushing the edge of a storm she longed to be swept up in. But if she allowed that to happen everything would be out of her control and under Luke’s dominion. She could work for him. She would just have to keep her feelings in check. She must. She couldn’t bear for Luke to know the humiliating truth.

  CHAPTER NINE

  I’m not doing so well when it comes to ticking goals off my list—but that’s only because I’m impatient and try to take things too fast. And I have my heart set on one man.

  So, what have I learned?

  I’m frightened of sex.

  I’m frightened of Luke finding out I’m frightened of sex and why …

  Were I not frightened of sex there would still be a problem, because sex with Luke Forster is never going to happen. I’m obviously not his type—maybe I’m not good enough for him. Luke has sampled several kisses and shows minimal enthusiasm at the prospect of sampling more. Fair enough. If he tried more than kisses I’d probably run a mile.

  So it’s back to the start of my list with an open mind. If I remain focused I should reach number ten in no time. And if number ten doesn’t involve sex with Luke, that’s no big deal. The way I feel about sex right now, I’d sooner have an ice cream.

  The new plan:

  Concentrate on practical matters and forget about my heart. Unlike the path of Cupid’s arrow, practical can be planned out in bullet points.

  • I have a job at the guest house.

  • The guest house has nine bedrooms.

  • Sort out the smallest of them for live-in staff.

  • Live-in staff—that’s me! My new quarters will be fabulous when they’re finished. ‘When’, being the operative word.

  TAKING the engine to its limits, he aimed a blow at the steering wheel. Nothing helped ease the frustration insi
de him.

  ‘Thanks, Nacho,’ he murmured, adding a few more choice curses.

  If he hadn’t gone looking for Lucia he wouldn’t have found her—wouldn’t want her as he did. He wouldn’t have danced with her, touched her. He wouldn’t have the mystery of her time in London driving him insane right now.

  There was only one way forward. Once he was sure she was physically safe, he was going to retrace Lucia’s tiny footsteps inch by scrupulous inch until he found out what she wasn’t telling him.

  The attraction between them had been on the back boiler for years. It had simmered at the wedding and boiled over in the caravan. His primal instinct told him to carry her off. Not to listen to any excuses. He could just imagine Lucia’s response if he tried that approach.

  Might be fun …

  Lucia gave a happy sigh. For a girl who had grown up slaving over brothers as soon as she could hold a mop, there was nothing more satisfying than cleaning up after herself. The caravan might still be shabby, but at least there were no more dusty glasses lurking on forgotten shelves. It even smelled fantastic. She kept telling herself that cleaning would help channel the energy left over from Luke’s visit. It hadn’t even scraped the surface.

  Flopping down on the bench, she glanced at his poster. She grabbed a magazine. Now it was just a case of finding a page that wasn’t devoted to ‘Different Sex Positions for Every Day of the Month …’ ‘Sex Positions for Your Sign of the Zodiac …’ ‘Hot Sex in Surprising Places …’ ‘Is that all anyone thinks about?’ she demanded, glaring at Luke’s centrefold.

  Probably, Lucia concluded, thanks to posters like Luke’s. Flinging the magazine aside, she leaned back against the bench, trying not to think about sex or her hang-ups. And then she leapt up again, colliding with the shelf.

  ‘What the …?’ She jumped around, nursing her head. ‘Luke?’ Her heart roared into action as a vehicle door banged.

  Was Luke back?

  What could that mean?

  She knelt on the bench to stare out. Her excitement evaporated. It wasn’t Luke with his sexy, brooding look, let alone Luke bearing armfuls of flowers with an adoring expression on his swarthy, disreputable face. It was Luke in practical mode, climbing out of a humungous pick-up truck. There was a hook on the back of the truck which he was now attaching to a fixing on the front of the caravan.

  He might have warned her! Bracing her hands against the walls as the van rocked up and down, she finally made it to the door. She had to bounce off it a couple of times before she could force it open, by which time she was stoked.

  ‘What the hell are you doing?’

  ‘You might want to wait in the truck while I do this,’ Luke suggested, without bothering to glance up.

  ‘I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what you’re doing.’

  Luke’s tousled head lifted and his fierce gold stare pierced hers. ‘What does it look like, Lucia?’

  ‘You’re hitching up the caravan. And taking it where?’ she demanded. ‘If this is just another ruse to get me to move out—’

  Luke straightened up to his full ridiculous height. ‘There’s no subterfuge involved in what I’m doing. I’m going to tow the caravan a safe distance away from the cliff.’ His eyes narrowed. ‘You must have felt the wind lifting it?’

  The cliff did seem dangerously close, now she came to look. ‘I have felt it rattling sometimes,’ she admitted, distracted by how thick Luke’s nut-brown hair was as the wind tossed it about, making it catch on his sharp black stubble.

  ‘And the jacks are broken so the caravan is resting on three wheels.’

  That did not sound good. ‘Okay, thank you.’

  ‘Go and get something on before you freeze to death. You’re soaked through. Your clothes are sticking to your body.’

  They were?

  And her nipples were nicely puckered too.

  ‘I’ll pack the breakables,’ she called back, retreating into the caravan.

  ‘Here!’ Luke called her back. ‘Before you come outside again put this on.’

  He reached out to hand her his jacket, but before she could take hold of it he draped it round her shoulders.

  ‘Now, let me go and hitch this thing up,’ he said brusquely, turning away.

  Wind and rain apparently made no impact on Luke’s mighty jean-clad frame. She leaned her head against the doorframe for a moment, watching him, waiting until he had disappeared round the side of the caravan. His clothes were nicely moulded to his body, and as she pulled his jacket close she could only be happy when she found that it was still Luke-warm.

  She packed up quickly and then went to wait in the pick-up. Resting her head against the worn leather seat, she listened to Luke’s music tracks as she absorbed the scent of truck oil, spice and soap. The warmth in the cab, with its overlay of Luke, made her feel all homey and contented. Her imagination soon took flight.

  And quickly came down to earth again when Luke joined her in the cab with a blast of cold air and a blaze of energy, following it up by barely acknowledging her before starting the engine. She was taking a chunk out of his day. That was obvious. Luke kissing her was a long-ago fantasy. He’d tried it and parked it.

  Releasing the brake, he inched the truck forward. The sound of creaking and grinding was alarming as the old caravan moved reluctantly off its site.

  ‘Hang on!’ Luke exclaimed as they hit a pothole.

  She gasped as the truck lurched and she fell into him.

  Shrugging her off, Luke turned to glance over his shoulder. ‘Lucky escape.’

  He was probably right, Lucia thought, moving as far away as possible.

  ‘This is the place,’ he said, when they reached the shelter of some trees. ‘I scouted round earlier. The caravan will be private here, and it’s safe on level ground.’

  Which was more than she was, Lucia reflected ruefully. ‘Do you want me to get out and check round?’

  ‘You stay there,’ he said, springing down.

  The caravan was soon unhitched, and when Luke climbed back into the cab he looked at her. ‘Okay, you can go now,’ he prompted, gesturing with his chin towards the door.

  ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘To the Grand for a shower,’ Luke offered, his brooding amber gaze alive with the first humour of the day. ‘Is that a problem for you?’

  ‘No,’ she said, as if she couldn’t care less. She had thought he might stay …

  ‘My jacket?’ Luke prompted as she reached for the door.

  If she was waiting for another kiss that experiment was clearly over, she concluded, tugging it off and handing it over.

  ‘Let this be an end to the risk-taking,’ Luke advised.

  So don’t come round again, she thought, staring him in the eyes. But when her gaze dropped to his lips she was prompted to promise fervently, ‘No more risks of any kind.’

  Slapping the side of the truck as she got out, she walked back to the caravan. She felt hollow as she watched Luke drive away. She shouldn’t have kissed him. She shouldn’t have flirted with him. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to think for one moment that they could be anything but friends. Maybe she’d spoiled even that. Maybe Luke’s offer of a job was just a way of keeping her in one place so her brothers always knew where she was.

  Did she have so little confidence?

  Where Luke was concerned? Yes. It was hard to feel upbeat when she felt as if she’d lost him—when she felt as if the Luke she’d used to know didn’t exist any more. And she missed that man.

  Lucia’s heat remained in his jacket all the way back to the hotel. He tried to ignore how that made him feel, and settled into accepting some facts that couldn’t be changed. Lucia was his best friend’s sister. She was the closest thing he had to a sister. But he wanted her.

  And Nacho?

  He would tell Nacho the truth—that there was no quick fix for a woman of Lucia’s temperament, and that her brother would just have to be patient for once.

  And how
patient was Luke?

  Some things never changed, Luke reflected as he glanced into the rearview mirror, as if he might catch one last glimpse of Lucia. He would always care about her.

  He smiled as he wondered how long it would be before the parcels arrived, and if she would send them straight back.

  She was about to leave for the guest house when there was a knock on the door. Throwing her weight against it, she stood staring in blank surprise at the man in uniform standing outside a big green van.

  ‘Delivery for Ms Acosta?’ the man said, checking the label on one of the packages he was holding.

  ‘That’s me,’ Lucia confirmed, ‘but I haven’t ordered anything.’

  ‘Then it must be a gift,’ the delivery man said, sticking a clipboard beneath her nose. ‘Sign here, please.’

  There was only one person in the world who would order a hamper from London’s most famous luxury goods store. There was only one person who knew her address in Cornwall.

  As soon as she had loaded everything inside, she picked up her phone and called Luke. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded the moment he picked up. ‘Why are you sending me food parcels? I’m not that desperate.’

  ‘I can’t send a few treats for you and Margaret to share?’

  ‘We don’t need charity.’

  ‘My PA handles returns—speak to her.’

  She sat back, stung.

  ‘Goodbye, Lucia. Enjoy the bacon and eggs.’

  She stared at the dead phone in dismay. This Luke was far removed from the Luke she had provoked, teased and taunted when they were younger; she didn’t even know him.

  Hadn’t she changed too?

  And it wasn’t just a hamper of food. There was everything anyone might need if they were starting out on their own for the first time—good towels, sheets, throws, decent pillows.

  ‘This will all have to go back,’ she told Luke’s poster. But as his arrogant face sent a scorching challenge back and she lifted one of the pillows and held it to her face she wondered if she wasn’t being just a little hasty.