Cristo's, an hour's drive away, constituted serious wining and dining. "The Steak and Shake is fine."
"Not for you. Not for tomorrow night. For the next week, Cristo's is testing a dining theme. In the spirit of a dinner theatre, their patrons are to dine in disguise. I thought we could wear our costumes since I missed the party Friday night." Adam preened. "I rather fancy myself as a swashbuckling pirate."
Panic nearly blinded Olivia. That pirate's costume again. Could she sit across the table from Adam, with him wearing what Luke had that night…? Olivia drew a calming breath. Of course she could. No big deal. It was dinner. And really, what did it matter whether they wore costumes? She'd tell him she couldn't see him any more over dinner.
"That sounds fine."
Luke walked up as the last words left her mouth. He bent at the waist in a sweeping bow, his eyes alight with devilment. "Good morning, Lady Olivia." His mocking voice slid down her spine.
Her stomach flip-flopped. What streak of perversity deep inside her found him so physically appealing she could barely catch her breath?
"Hello, Luke."
"Ready to start work? Olivia and I were just planning dinner out tomorrow night in our costumes, since she missed me in my pirate outfit."
The twinkle in Luke's eyes disappeared. "That should gather a crowd at the Steak and Shake."
"Cristo's." Adam dropped a wink at Luke. "Only the best for my girl."
"Once you've had a taste of the best, it's hard to settle for less. Isn't that right, Liv?" Luke's eyes glittered, his face hard and mocking.
His words evoked a barrage of erotic sensory memories. The exquisite pillage of his tongue deep in her mouth. The salty flavor of his essence. The velvet warmth of his mouth and tongue against the back of her neck.
Her blood rushed on a mad course of desire at a pace and to places it had no business rushing in the middle of a Monday morning in the Colther County Library in the midst of a crowd.
Marion Turner's arrival saved Olivia from responding to Luke's provocative comment. Despite their exchange yesterday, Olivia could've kissed her. "Marion's here. We can move forward with the groundbreaking now."
She preferred a cool reception from Marion to Luke's hot tension and Adam's romantic tenacity.
The sun shone brightly despite the brisk bite in the air as the photographer hustled them outside and shuffled the group around.
"Tallest on the back row. That's it." With a harried expression and his camera dangling from a strap around his neck, the photographer lined up his back row.
A tremor of excitement shook Olivia. They were one step away from starting the new addition to the library. A year of lobbying, months of fund-raising and it was about to happen. She wanted to shout and indulge in a few steps of an Irish jig. Instead, she mentally wrapped her arms around her happiness.
Luke glanced at her across the shuffling group. Time stood still. The corners of his lips curled in the faintest of smiles as he nodded his head, sharing her joy as surely as if she'd announced it. Olivia smiled back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world, sharing this unspoken connection with him. Startled, Olivia caught herself. It was one thing to feel the flow of sexual energy between them. It was terrifying to sense an even deeper bond.
"Okay. The rest of you fill in on the front." The photographer caught her arm, pulling her front and center. "You're the librarian, right? Okay, let's get the chamber president and the builder down here."
He placed Adam to her left and Luke to her right. Someone handed her a shovel.
"Right-o. On the count of three, everyone say cheese."
* * *
10
« ^ »
"Easy. This truck looks bad enough already." Dave, his dispossessed partner, leaned against the hood, as Luke tossed a defective two-by-four into the truck bed.
He was in a helluva mood and not particularly good company for anyone. At least Adam had finally left to work on his Rotarian speech or whatever it was he did behind his respectable desk inside the respectable bank their respectable family owned.
"Don't you have anything better to do with a day off?" Luke checked off the last of the supplies. Only a few problems out of the whole shipment—not bad.
"Thought I'd check out what prompted a last-minute schedule change. You know this was my project, pal." Dave pulled a bagel out of a bag. "Bagel? Just got a shipment." The scent of garlic wafted across to Luke. You could take the man out of New York, but you couldn't take New York out of the man. Dave's family shipped him fresh bagels three days a week. Dave smeared on cream cheese. "And don't tell me you yanked the project to be near your family, 'cause that dog won't hunt."
Dave had made a hobby of collecting and using, on a regular basis, every Southern colloquialism known to man. Most of the time, Luke enjoyed the way Dave's brogue twisted around the phrases he'd grown up on. Today it wasn't so amusing. What the hell was Olivia thinking, going out to dinner with Adam?
He grabbed a doughy bagel out of the bag and didn't bother to answer.
"Could it be…" Dave looked past Luke's shoulder, a flirtatious smile on his face. "Well, if it isn't my favorite librarian. I'm going to pretend it's my incredible charm that draws you out and not garlic with a double order of lox."
Olivia smiled at Dave as if she'd discovered a long-lost friend. She damn sure never looked at Luke that way. No, she eyed Luke like she'd just caught a glimpse of the bogeyman.
"When I heard you wouldn't be on the project, I hoped you'd at least stop by." She reached for the white, wax-paper bag, and grinned. "With your bagels."
Luke's bite stuck in his throat. He swallowed the lump. "Dave's engaged." It came out bald, blunt and unadorned.
Olivia pushed her glasses up onto the bridge of her nose and speared him with a reproving look. "Cynthia. I've seen her picture. She's quite lovely."
"Just wanted to make sure you knew." Luke snatched up the plans. "Now some of us have work to do."
He did have work to do and it was a damn sight better than standing around watching the mutual admiration society at work while he made an even bigger jackass of himself.
Dave laughed and called out as Luke stalked around the corner, "I'll look you up before I leave."
Luke bit back yet another surly comment. Every man he knew seemed eminently acceptable to Her Highness. Except for him. Luke approached the flatbed truck and pitched in unloading the supplies that hadn't fit on a pallet. Nothing like back-breaking physical activity to put things in perspective. Unfortunately, physical activity brought to mind rumpled sheets and Olivia beneath him. And on top of him. And beside him. Warm and naked, her hair loose, tangled about her bare shoulders, her pearls wrapped around one succulent—
"Make sure you don't strain something," Dave instructed from behind him.
Luke straightened and left the crew to finish up. "Through already?"
Dave grinned, not the least bit daunted by Luke's abruptness. "Man, you've got it bad."
"Take a hike, Klegman."
"I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes. The mighty hell-raisin' Lucas Jasper Rutledge has succumbed." Dave appeared to be thoroughly enjoying himself. He chuckled all the way back to Luke's pickup.
"I thought Olivia might have something to do with the sudden change of plans. Quite a switch from your usual bar babe."
"I hate to shoot your theory to hell, but Lady Olivia has an aversion to me."
"I'd say she had something for you, but I wouldn't call it an aversion. But then again, you didn't see her eyeing your sorry excuse of a butt when you stomped off."
Luke crossed his arms over his chest, even more annoyed by that news. She eyed his butt and made out with him, but still planned dinner out with Adam? "Yeah, well, I'm not some piece of meat, ya know."
Dave threw back his head and laughed. "God, you sound like a woman."
He was losing his mind. Olivia was driving him crazy. He pushed his hard hat back and grinned sheepishly
. "Yeah, I guess I do."
"Have you tried wooing her?"
For one crazy moment, Luke thought he said screwing her. That hadn't worked. Maybe that was the problem. They'd skipped the wooing and gone straight to screwing.
"I can see by that dumbfounded look on your face, that hasn't occurred to you, Romeo. Get with the program."
"Who are you, The Love Doctor?"
"Might I remind you which one of us is happily engaged to the woman of his dreams and which one of us is Mr. Only Lonely with a bad attitude?"
Dave had a point. A smart-aleck point, but a point nonetheless. "You have my undivided attention."
"What seems to be the problem?"
"She's dating my brother."
"So, she's had a little lapse in judgment. Show her the way. You're dealing with a woman of substance."
Luke looked past the row of trees lining the parking lot. "She's too classy for me. She always has been."
"That's where you're wrong. I'd say she's just what you need. And don't sell yourself short. You've got something she needs—and not necessarily what you're thinking. There's fire brewing beneath her cool exterior and I think you're just the man to stoke the flame."
A van with Carson's Floral Delivery detailed on its side panel pulled into the parking lot. A kid who barely looked old enough to drive got out and went around to the back, pulling out a crystal vase filled with roses and little white flowers.
"Someone's got roses."
Why the hell did Dave feel obligated to state the obvious? "Looks that way." The kid walked past them on the sidewalk and hoisted the vase in a salute. "Take note, gentlemen. The ladies love this. A dozen red roses and she's putty in your hands." Smart-ass kid.
"Maybe those are for me," Dave quipped.
The kid smirked. "You don't look like Olivia Cooper to me." He didn't break stride as he headed to the front door.
"Maybe next time, huh?" Dave turned to Luke, indicating the flowers with his head. "Her family probably sent them."
"Yeah. And maybe there really is a Santa Claus. It would never occur to her family." With Bennett, it'd more likely be a quart of Wild Turkey so he could offer to drink it for his teetotaling daughter. "Nah. It's Adam." His scum-sucking, lowlife, respectable brother.
"A dozen roses." Dave whistled. "He's pulled out some big guns there, partner." Dave laid a considering finger alongside his nose. "But, then again, it's fairly cliché. You need to come up with something original. Something that speaks to her." Dave raised his brows, "Think you're up to it?"
Luke had just the thing in mind. "No problem. My gun's much bigger than his."
* * *
Olivia sat propped on a bar stool in her kitchen, relieved to be home. Alone. No, really she was. She was ecstatic her day was over at the library. Thank goodness she wouldn't look up and see Luke watching her or catch a glimpse of him working side by side with his men. She wouldn't catch a note of his voice and flush at the sound. No glimpse of him in a hard hat to render her weak-kneed. No lingering scent particular to him to tease her hormones into a frenzy.
At least not until tomorrow morning.
She pushed off the stool and went to the back door, gazing through the window at the wine-red roses on the patio table. Too bad she was highly allergic. She could've sworn she'd mentioned that to Adam. Apparently her allergy had slipped his mind. Mentioning it when he'd called to make sure the flowers arrived would've been rude.
Dinner at Cristo's. A dozen long-stemmed roses. Three brief days ago—which felt more like a lifetime—she would've been floating on a cloud. Well, at least she'd have been pretty darned happy. Now she fought off a panic attack. Guilt had to be the culprit. Between now and tomorrow night she needed to come up with a polite, forceful, diplomatic way to dump Adam.
Easier said than done. She sipped a mouthful of tepid tea and reached for a notepad and pen.
I don't think we're right for one another. Forget it. She'd never convince Adam he wasn't right for her. Cross that off.
I want to see someone else. Ditto on the he'd-never-believe-it thing and in a town this small, she'd have to stage a public fling or Adam would know within days she wasn't seeing anyone else. And Olivia didn't fling in public. No go.
Let's just be friends. Strike three. It'd probably make him more determined than ever. She nibbled on the end of her pen.
I've taken a vow of chastity. Nah.
I'm frigid. Don't go there.
You're too good for me. Bingo. That wouldn't be such a hard sell for Adam. She underlined it twice and circled it.
The doorbell rang. It couldn't be Beth. Beth would come to the back door. And if it wasn't Beth, she really didn't want to talk to anyone else. She could pretend not to be home, but the car in the driveway was something of a giveaway. Perhaps they'd simply go away.
The bell chimed again, killing that theory. A nice, polite knock followed. What if it was some sweet little Girl Scout standing on her front porch, gathering her courage to pitch thin mints and tagalongs? What if she, Olivia, was missing out on s'moas and trefoils because she wouldn't rouse herself and answer the doorbell?
She catapulted off the stool, hurried through to the front door and threw it open. Luke.
"You're not a Girl Scout."
"You're right."
He only had to stand there and her body responded. She needed serious help. "I bet you were never even a Boy Scout, were you?"
"For a day. I got kicked out." His voice lowered to a beguiling caress. "Let me in and I'll tell you why."
Olivia blocked the door, her breath in her throat and her knees in a less than steady state. Rationale and reason, ousted by lust and lasciviousness, flew out the window when he was around. "I don't want to know why."
"Okay. I won't tell. But I have something for you."
For the first time she noticed he held a professionally wrapped—expensively wrapped—package.
She unobtrusively pinched the back of her thigh. Ouch! Yeah, she was awake. This was real.
"Come on, Liv, let me in. There's nothing to be afraid of."
Her nipples tingled and tightened in response to his low, husky urging. Easy enough for him to say. She'd acquired a voice-activated libido with Luke that frightened her almost as much as it excited her.
The rigid thrust of her nipples against her silk blouse caught and held his attention. His confident demeanor shifted slightly. The deep breath he drew gave him away.
Power surged through her. Testing the waters of her feminine wiles, she ran the tip of her tongue along her upper lip. His hands holding the package trembled. Turning him on was turning her on. It was heady, exhilarating. Something wild and reckless inside her rose to the surface.
She stood aside. "Come in." Where was her better judgment when she needed it?
"Where do you want it?"
Muscles deep inside her body clenched in anticipation. "Where would you like to give it to me?"
"Your choice."
Olivia led him to the den. Every nerve in her body seemed tuned to him. Each breath seemed to be filled with him, his scent, his presence. Stepping through the doorway, Luke's arm brushed against her shoulder blade. Even that minimal contact sent a shiver down her spine and notched up the heat low in her belly.
Olivia skirted a stack of books and sat on the couch. Instead of following, Luke positioned himself behind the sofa. She looked at him over her shoulder. "I don't bite."
His gaze raked over her, the heat in his eyes searing her. With slow deliberation, he leaned forward until his breath mingled with hers. "I can't guarantee that I won't."
He placed the package in her lap. It was heavier than she'd thought, and thick. The backs of his fingers pressed against her thighs, stirring a longing so intense she shook. Luke continued to lean over her, bracing his arms against the back of the couch. "Go ahead. Open it."
His warm breath stirred wisps of hair that had escaped her chignon against her nape.
She ran her fingernail beneath
the edge of the paper, loathe to rip into the elegant wrapping. She preferred to take her time and savor the anticipation. Tension radiated from Luke. She bit back a tiny smile. Was he nervous? She was. What would an unpredictable, sensual man like Luke give a woman like her?
She folded back first one edge of the paper, then the other. A set of sheets. Not pima cotton. Not percale. Not flannel. Silk. Apricot silk sheets. Sensuous, luxurious, decadent silk. "I love them," she breathed.
"I hope the color's okay. It's one of my favorites." His lips almost brushed the shell of her ear.
It was the same color as the shirt she'd worn yesterday. The same color as her nipples, according to Luke. She turned her head to look at him. His overwhelming maleness made her ache. "They're beautiful." Her voice rasped.
His heavy-lidded glance caressed her aching tips. "Yes, they are."
She meant the sheets. He obviously meant her breasts. His mouth hovered mere inches away. Unbidden, she recalled the sensation of those firm lips suckling her.
She swallowed convulsively. "You didn't have to do this, but thank you." No way should she accept such an intensely personal gift from him, and no way was she letting them go.
"I owed you a set of sheets." Luke reached down to her lap, his thumb brushing against one puckered nipple on the way. His brief touch arrowed to her womb. He pulled out a pillowcase, his thumb once again flicking against her nipple.
"Feel it." He gentled the material against her neck.
Olivia closed her eyes and dropped her head to the back of the sofa. She gave herself over to the sensation of silk sliding against her neck. The male scent particular to Luke mingled with cherry tobacco further aroused her.
"Mmm," she moaned her appreciation.
Luke deliberately released the pillowcase. It slithered between her breasts, puddling against her thighs. "I looked at a lot of sheets. I touched a lot of sheets. But these felt like you."
He hadn't picked up the phone and ordered flowers she was allergic to. He'd thought about his gift and taken the time to shop and paid attention to detail.
BARELY MISTAKEN Page 13
