Lies That Bind

by Shirley Wine

‘And the next time you have a bad day, or I express my opinion, or relay my observations?’

  The question hung in a moment of fraught silence before Luke lifted a hand palm outwards.

  ‘Fair comment,’ he said, his voice gruff, his gaze unwavering. ‘And just so you know, you’re not the only person concerned about Rose.’

  Brooke frowned but didn’t look away. ‘I didn’t mean to imply that you were uncaring of your niece’s needs.’

  Luke sighed, the sound echoing in the hot air. ‘I overheard the kids talking a couple of days ago, and Rose finally admitted to me that she’s a vegetarian.’ He was again assailed by a scorching beat of shame. He knew he’d failed the girl, miserably.

  ‘Oh my.’ Brooke sucked in an audible breath. ‘She confided in you?’

  ‘Not willingly. It took a lot of prompting from Otto before she told me. It sure as hell never occurred to me.’ He took a slow, deep breath that did little to mitigate his pain and confusion. He was Rose’s uncle, the adult in their household, and he should have noticed that the girl didn’t like the food he’d served up.

  I did notice, but I chose to ignore the signs.

  He fiddled with the mower’s starter cord, unwilling to meet Brooke’s eyes. The silence seethed with questions Luke hadn’t the first idea how to address.

  Brooke was first to break it. ‘So how will you cope with Rose’s dietary needs?’

  ‘I’m damned if I know.’

  ‘Have you considered my suggestion about employing a housekeeper?’

  The quiet question hit Luke hard. Did Brooke think he was unmindful of Rose’s needs? ‘Charlotte has offered a solution, and I’ve already hired Rio Jacobs to cook and housekeep for us.’

  ‘A man?’ Brooke was unable to mask her surprise. Her mobile eyebrows almost reached her hairline. ‘And how do you think Rose will react to yet one more male invading her home and her space?’

  Her reaction mirrored his own thoughts, so it wasn’t entirely unexpected.

  ‘That’s the reason I’m here.’ He spread his hands in a wide jerky movement. ‘Rose was upset.’

  ‘And you’re surprised?’

  ‘No!’ He met her eyes as he rubbed at his chin. ‘The thing is, I’ve told Rose that you and your father have decided to come and live with us at Whitby Downs.’

  The words dropped into a pool of incredulous silence.

  ***

  Brooke just stared at Luke and slowly shook her head. ‘You did what?’

  ‘You heard me.’ He met her gaze steadily for a moment before he bent to examine the mower, removed a part and rose to his feet. ‘Here’s your problem: the mower needs a new spark plug.’

  Brooke stood and advanced a step closer. ‘Forget the mower, Calloway. What do you mean?’

  He gave her a fleeting glance, his discomfort obvious.

  ‘Out with it,’ she demanded, her breasts rising and falling on every ragged breath. Did he really say what I thought he did?

  ‘Problems, Brooke?’ a cheerful female voice said.

  At the unwelcome intrusion, Brooke looked over her shoulder and groaned. Pat Brewster approached at a fast clip, her gaze flicking from one to the other, her eyes as greedy as a hungry bird’s.

  ‘Bloody hell,’ Luke muttered. ‘We need privacy to discuss this.’

  ‘A bit late now,’ Brooke said in a tart undertone. She shrugged and turned away.

  Luke started this; let him deal with the nosy woman.

  Only a man would ever think that the front lawn of her father’s house, on the main street of Sweetwater, was the right place to drop such a bombshell.

  ‘Can I help?’ Pat stopped shy of stepping on the crispy grass.

  ‘Not unless you happen to have a spare lawnmower spark plug in your pocket.’ Luke nudged the mower with his boot. ‘That’s the only thing Brooke is likely to ever want from you.’

  Pat flushed scarlet.

  Brooke risked a glance at Pat and somehow managed not to laugh. Luke sure had her measure, but the woman was either too thick, or she didn’t want to heed the barely concealed warning. Brooke suspected it was the latter.

  ‘Sorry, I can’t oblige.’ Pat’s sly glance darted between them. ‘It’s good to see you helping each other after all your recent troubles.’

  Brooke stiffened, her back going poker-straight. Luke gripped her arm, and one glance at his expression and the slight shake of his head was enough to silence the hot words hovering on the tip of her tongue. Rising to Pat’s probing and malice would be a mistake.

  ‘Your concern is so touching, Ms Brewster,’ Luke drawled.

  The biting irony was lost on Pat. Her eyes gleamed. ‘How are your wards doing? That accident was such a terrible, terrible tragedy.’

  Brooke sucked in a sharp, horrified breath as she stole a glance at Luke. Pat was freaking unbelievable.

  ‘Good grief! What are you on about?’ Brooke’s harsh question broke the taut silence. ‘Otto and Rose are recovering well. There’s no need to talk about them as if they’re dead.’

  ‘Nothing about my wards is any concern of yours.’ Luke’s eyes narrowed to gleaming slits as he gave the woman a studied look from head to toe.

  Intercepting that look, Brooke shivered, intensely glad it was not directed at her.

  Pat was trolling for gossip, pure and simple. Didn’t she realise she should quit while she was ahead?

  ‘I was merely concerned.’ Pat gave him a simpering smile.

  ‘Your concern is unnecessary. My wards have the benefit of Ms Galbraith’s expert care.’

  Pat hastily muffled a snort of laughter.

  Apprehension had Brooke’s heart doing a little one-two skip in her chest, her palms suddenly damp. She silently willed the woman to just go away.

  ‘Would you care to share your amusement?’ Luke’s silky question echoed as he stepped closer to Pat.

  Brooke sucked in a shuddery breath, nervous of this woman.

  ‘It’s not important.’ Pat’s smile was as coy as it was insincere.

  ‘Oh, but I think it is.’ Luke stepped closer still.

  Brooke knew that if Luke levelled that look at her, she’d run a mile.

  Finally, Pat seemed to grasp the controlled menace radiating from Luke. Her smile faded and she took a hurried step backwards.

  Luke followed her, stepping so close he was right in her face. ‘Ms Galbraith already has Otto up on crutches,’ he said, his voice razor-sharp. ‘She and her father are moving in with us at Whitby Downs so my niece has a live-in female companion.’

  Brooke swallowed her instinctive protest.

  She appreciated his attempt to curb Pat Brewster’s slanderous tongue, but his unilateral statement was a step too far.

  More than a bit presumptuous, Luke, especially as I’m not at all sure I’m prepared to consider your proposal.

  Pat glanced at Brooke, her expression decidedly feline. ‘Will Brooke find a stray wife tucked under your bed?’

  The bitch!

  Pain, sharp and exquisite, shafted through Brooke. She avoided so much as glancing at Luke.

  He took half a step closer to the odious woman. ‘Tell me, what business is this of yours?’

  The question pricked Pat’s self-confident bubble. She backed away, finally seeming to realise she’d overstayed her welcome, and she turned and fairly sprinted down the pavement.

  With a disgusted grunt Luke turned to Brooke. ‘I’m sorry about that.’

  ‘Why?’ She shrugged and turned away, humiliation a burning brand. She refused to look at him. ‘It’s true enough.’

  Luke stepped closer, placed a hand on her arm and turned her to face him. He curved a gentle hand around her cheek and lifted her face upwards so he could look into her eyes. ‘You told me you didn’t know Thornton was a married man, is that the truth?’

  ‘Yes!’ Brooke’s hand clenched. ‘I never knew he was married until it was flashed all over the press.’

  ‘Then that’s Thornton’s shame, not yours.�
�

  Despite her distress, she found comfort and reassurance in Luke’s tender touch and kind words. This surprised her. For the first time since the ordeal of the police interrogation she’d endured after Brad’s death, she didn’t shrink in helpless fear from a man’s touch.

  ‘You’d be alone in thinking this,’ she said with considerable bitterness.

  ‘I’ve heard the official version.’ He brushed a thumb over her hot cheek and pushed a wayward strand of hair back behind her ear. ‘But I’ve been around long enough to understand that there’s far more to any situation than appears in an official report.’

  He’s read the official reports?

  Humiliated heat surged through her. She pulled away, crossing her arms around her midriff and tucking her hands under her armpits. ‘And you still wanted me to work with Otto and Rose? Or did you only employ me because there isn’t another physio within a bull’s roar of Sweetwater?’ She flung the reckless challenge at him without pausing to consider the consequences.

  ‘What do you want me to say?’ He lifted his hat and raked his fingers through his hair. ‘You know the answer to that, as well as I do.’

  ‘You don’t believe that I lured a good man to the dark side, that my influence turned Thornton into a drug dealer who had no compunction at selling drugs to his kids’ friends?’

  She cringed at the raw pain echoing in the shrill words. Mortified, she covered her hot cheeks with her hands and spun away, unable to bear seeing his condemnation.

  Luke caught her shoulders and gently but firmly turned her until he could see her face. ‘Or maybe it’s that no-one has ever asked or actually listened to what you have to say.’

  Brooke stared at him in disbelief.

  ‘Before I left the Force,’ he spoke so quietly she needed to lean closer to catch his words, ‘I worked undercover. I’ve seen things so depraved that very little surprises me anymore.’

  Looking directly into his eyes, she glimpsed that disturbing darkness she’d sensed once before and, in a moment of insight, she understood that his time working undercover had left an indelible mark on him.

  ‘I can imagine.’

  ‘Can you?’ He shook his head, his expression grim. ‘It’s like nothing that you can imagine, Brooke.’

  The flat, harsh words made her uncomfortable.

  She needed to escape and grabbed the mower, pushing it ahead of her. Luke prevented her leaving by the simple expedient of stepping in front of the mower.

  ‘For what it’s worth, I want you to know that I never blindly believe everything I hear or read.’ He spread his hands in an impotent gesture. ‘I’ve worked crime scenes, then later read the official reports, and wondered if they related to the same event.’

  Brooke sucked in a shaky breath at this unexpected admission. A gust of hot wind blew hair across her face. Luke lifted a hand and pushed the wayward lock back behind her ear.

  ‘Sometimes reports can lack one critical factor that skews a whole investigation,’ he said, his voice quiet, that shrewd gaze never faltering. ‘Is this what happened to you?’

  She moistened dry lips with the tip of her tongue.

  Instinct warned her that Luke was a man who would be hard to deceive. She sensed that he would pick and pick and pick until he breached all her defences. And this was enough to scare her witless. ‘Near enough.’

  His eyes narrowed at the faltering admission. ‘I prefer to reach my own conclusions.’

  Discomfited and unnerved by this thought, she inhaled another shaken breath and pushed past him with the crippled mower, the stench of oil and grease lingering on the hot air.

  Luke refused to be shaken off so easily and, undeterred, kept pace at her side.

  She parked the mower by the door of the detached garage and turned on him. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We still have something to decide.’

  ‘Do we?’ Her chin lifted. ‘You made that outrageous statement, you deal with the fallout.’

  ‘This isn’t about me, Brooke. It’s about Rose.’

  Concern for the girl tempered her anger. ‘If all else fails, try layering on a good dollop of guilt.’

  ‘I’ll do whatever it takes to help Rose,’ he said through his teeth, ‘unless you also want to add her to the list of people you’ve failed.’

  She jerked her hand free and her lip curled in a sneer. ‘Spoken like a true cop: judge first, listen later.’

  Luke’s hand clenched and when she heard the rasp of his indrawn breath, she knew she’d made him angry.

  Good! That makes two of us.

  ‘What will it take to persuade you to move out to my house at Whitby Downs? If it’s money—’

  ‘Money?’ She fairly spat the word. ‘This isn’t about money.’

  ‘Funny. And here’s me thinking you were broke while you’ve put your life on hold to help your father.’

  She stiffened. ‘You have a bloody nerve.’

  ‘I know.’ He gave a gusty sigh. ‘If I’m to employ the housekeeper Charlotte has found for us, I need to have a woman in the house, too.’

  Brooke bit down so hard on her lower lip that blood bloomed in her mouth.

  I will not weaken.

  ‘I’m not asking for myself, I’m asking for Rose.’

  ‘Was this Charlotte’s idea?’ she asked, horrified.

  Just thinking that one of Luke’s bosses may have suggested that Brooke move out to Whitby Downs with Luke was more than disturbing. It was bad enough that dyed-in-the-wool gossips like Pat Brewster thought nothing of spreading rumour and speculation, but the thought of the Daintrys doing so made Brooke squirm.

  ‘No!’ Luke raked a hand through his hair and hesitated a moment before saying, ‘Rose and I were talking about the housekeeper Charlotte recommended. Rose was upset and on the spur of the moment I told her you’d agreed to move in with us.’

  She inhaled an indignant breath, but her protest died when he held up a hand.

  ‘I lost a sister I loved dearly,’ he said in a harsh undertone. ‘I don’t think I could survive losing Rose, too.’

  His desolation was raw and exposed his vulnerability. Shadows clouded his features and distress thinned his sexy lips, but it was the emptiness in his vivid eyes that threatened to break her heart. Luke, for all his male stoicism, was struggling beneath a crippling burden of grief.

  Brooke swallowed hard to dislodge the lump blocking her airways. Instinctively, she knew that this admission had cost him dearly.

  ‘Rose is fragile,’ she admitted, her resentment softening.

  ‘Believe me, I am very aware of this.’ Luke rubbed a hand across his eyes. ‘While I need someone to cater for the girl’s finicky diet, I’m also very mindful that yet one more male in the household could be irrevocably damaging to her. She needs another woman and she likes you, Brooke. It’s for Rose that I’m asking, and for no other reason.’

  Luke was very much a man’s man and for him to display so much sensitivity surprised her. ‘Is this why—’

  ‘Partly,’ he cut her off, his expression turned grim. ‘But there’s also a very real possibility that Ian’s parents are about to challenge my custody of Rose and Otto.’

  ‘And this would be a bad thing?’

  Luke raked a hand through his hair. ‘My sister and brother-in-law were both adamant that they never wanted their children to have to suffer the hideous atmosphere he endured as a child.’

  ‘You don’t like them?’

  ‘Duncan and Margaret McLellan are cold, controlling and obsessed with keeping up appearances, their own. They aren’t concerned about Otto and Rose, their welfare or their needs; they’re only concerned about how their lack of involvement in their grandchildren’s lives reflects on them and their standing among their friends.’

  ‘That’s a damning indictment.’

  ‘It’s true enough,’ he said grimly. ‘They never considered my sister good enough to marry their son, and yet Jenn was the kindest, most caring person you could
ever wish to meet.’

  Brooke caught the echo of grief in his words and her defensiveness softened. ‘Was this why you told Rose I was moving in with you?’

  ‘Partly, but mainly because I’m gravely concerned about my niece and her wellbeing,’ he said, his voice gruff. ‘Rose needs a woman in her life, Brooke, and for some reason she’s connected with you. Will you help us, please?’

  It was the please that made her weaken. Nothing else.

  Trying to convince myself it’s all for Rose, don’t I mean. The uncomfortable inner voice made her rush into speech. ‘What about Dad? There’s no way I can leave him.’

  ‘I would never ask you to. The foreman’s residence on Whitby Downs is huge. There’s room enough for you, your father and half a dozen more kids to boot.’

  Her startled laugh lightened the tense atmosphere. ‘I can assure you that I don’t have a tribe of kids secreted away somewhere.’

  ‘There are ways we can rectify this omission if you’re willing.’

  He chuckled and the wicked sparkle in his eyes set her stupid, reckless heart racing. ‘In your dreams, cowboy.’

  He pushed his hat back on his head and with one large hand splayed across his lean hip, he smiled at her, a smile that was pure sin.

  ‘Oh, I dream, Brooke.’

  The husky words made her pulse race even faster.

  Moving into his house, sharing the same space, was suddenly imbued with a delicious sense of danger. Sure, her father, Otto and Rose would be there to act as chaperones, but too clearly she recalled the intense flare of heat she’d seen in Luke’s vivid eyes. This inconvenient attraction was not one-sided.

  With his attention fully focused on her, Brooke knew she could very easily succumb to his charisma; knowledge that left her vulnerable.

  ‘Will you help me to help Rose, please?’ He laid a tanned hand on her arm.

  The unabashed plea melted her resistance, and she covered his hand with hers. ‘What does this position entail? I hate to break it to you, but I’m probably no better at cooking than you are.’

  ‘But you’re a woman.’

  ‘Spoken like a man.’ She smiled, shaking her head. ‘You do realise that gender doesn’t necessarily translate into home-making skills.’

  ‘I don’t expect you to cook,’ he said gruffly. ‘Rio Jacobs will do this, but I would appreciate your assistance with Rose’s diet.’