The Ex Factor

by Anne Oliver

  Every time she looked away hoping to catch a glimpse of Luke on his way back to rescue her, she found Colin’s eyes assessing her and no doubt finding her lacking, if his frown was any indication.

  At the moment, however, he was talking to a press photographer Melanie had seen arrive a few moments ago and a stunning young blonde in a strapless red dress. She saw him beckon someone—Luke, she realised with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach—and introduce them. Saw Blondie smile, saw Luke bend down and speak. So they were head to head.

  Her fingers tightened on her glass and her insides clenched as Blondie pressed against Luke’s side and posed for the camera. Luke’s hand was on her bare shoulder. The flash caught them as Blondie turned her head to smile up at Luke’s face. He said something to her and smiled back.

  Luke’s gaze suddenly switched to Melanie, as if he knew she was watching, but she was already excusing herself to the women she’d been talking to and turning away. She refused to stand here and watch her partner for the evening—hers—photographed with someone else. Particularly someone as gorgeous as that woman.

  Time out. Dumping her glass on the nearest surface, she escaped into the hall. With a quick glance behind her, she headed for the library. ‘Hello?’ she half whispered as she pushed on the heavy door. Only the familiar and faint musty smell of old leather and books greeted her. Thank God.

  Releasing a pent-up sigh, she closed the door behind her, let her head fall back against the polished wood for a few seconds while her eyes adjusted to the pale moonlight streaming like silver through the window.

  Pull yourself together. That was Colin’s doing, not Luke’s.

  Problem was, it was as blindingly clear as that moonlight that Melanie Sawyer was jealous. She’d never been jealous in her life, but she recognised the symptoms. She was jealous because…

  Oh, no. No, no, no. She couldn’t be in love with Luke Delaney.

  Not again.

  A man she’d do anything for—even attend this stupid party she didn’t fit into.

  A man whose world she didn’t belong in.

  No, she’d done ‘in love’, she was not doing it again. It was going to be casual all the way.

  ‘Mel?’

  She almost stumbled when the door opened, propelling her forward. ‘Here.’

  Her heart hammered at the sound of that same man’s deep voice. With his body silhouetted against the light from the hall, all she could see was his familiar shape as he entered the room and closed the door.

  Now she could see his shirt gleaming in the moon’s glow, his eyes glinting with concern. ‘I apologise for Dad’s insensitivity. He was introducing me to a friend’s granddaughter. I didn’t know about the photo shoot.’

  Ignore that burning sensation in your chest, the temptation to blame. Stick to the facts. ‘He obviously thinks you two are well suited. She’s very attractive.’

  ‘I didn’t notice,’ he said, reaching for her, fingers curling around her nape and urging her closer, making her forget about everything but him. ‘You see, I prefer long-legged brunettes.’

  Melanie leaned forward, her own fingers busy undoing the top two buttons of his shirt so she could slip her fingers inside and feel the hot flesh beneath. ‘Ah, so you did notice she was blonde, then.’

  ‘I noticed you leave.’ His hands stroked over her shoulders and down her spine as he walked her backwards until her bottom bumped into the antique desk.

  ‘But I didn’t leave…the party…’

  Her breathing hitched mid-sentence when he cupped her backside in his palms and lifted her onto the desk. ‘No.’ His voice whispered over her face. ‘You didn’t.’

  ‘Want to know why?’ She kicked off her shoes and watched the glint in his eyes turn hot while she tugged at his chest hair. ‘You haven’t checked out my underwear yet.’

  ‘But I’ve been thinking about it all night.’ She felt the texture of velvet, then cool air kissed her thighs as he pushed her skirt up over her knees. Spread them wide.

  ‘Black stockings…’ The rough edges of his fingers snagged nylon as he slid a hand between her thighs and up. ‘Lace-topped,’ he murmured when his fingers finally encountered flesh.

  He inched higher, stopped, surprise and amusement crinkling his eyes. His fingers slid against her moist centre. ‘You came bare-assed?’

  She shivered with desire as heat met heat. ‘I came prepared.’

  ‘So did I.’ He took a condom from his pocket with his free hand and grinned, his teeth white against his skin while his long, skilled fingers continued to slide back and forth over her flesh until she moaned. ‘Want to take a chance, Mel?’

  ‘Here?’ In the library with a hundred guests only metres away? Her pulse leaped and adrenaline spiked at the idea.

  ‘Now.’ He slid her to the very edge of the desk, so her bottom perched precariously. Then cocked his brow. ‘Do you want me to lock the door?’

  She shook her head. ‘Where’s the thrill in that?’

  He shrugged, still grinning. ‘Didn’t think so.’ He unzipped his fly.

  ‘Let me.’ She shoved his hands away and reached between them, tightened her hand around him, feeling him jerk in response. Squeezing, she moved her hands slowly up, then down, watching his jaw clench, his eyes half close on a tight indrawn breath.

  But their gazes locked as she took the condom packet from his fingers. Beyond the door she could hear Beethoven, the distant murmur of conversation, but the only sounds in the room were heavy breathing and the sharp rip of foil.

  Still watching him, she rolled on the condom, then with hands tight on his rock-hard length she guided him closer, until his tip touched her swollen flesh.

  ‘Ah, Melanie, I can never get enough of you,’ he muttered, gripping her thighs as he pushed inside her. Watching himself as he thrust his hips forward, her hands clutching his shoulders to keep herself from slipping off the desk. She watched too, the skin at the top of her thighs pale against his dark masculine power.

  A power that could wring every emotion from her, body and soul. If she let it. Not tonight. Tonight it was only about illicit sex and its accompanying adrenaline rush and how very, very good they felt together.

  The sensual storm erupted around her, a blistering explosion of skin and speed and heat, until nothing but the vortex of pure pleasure remained. She quivered on the edge, then let the pleasure take her. Luke followed her down as she collapsed backwards, letting her head drop back against the desk.

  A lamp tipped and rolled onto its side with a tinkle of glass. ‘Oops.’

  Luke shifted, set the light upright. ‘Just the globe,’ he said. He adjusted his clothing in the dim light, swept up the pieces of broken glass with a tissue, tipped them in the bin. ‘You okay?’

  She smiled, feeling entirely too good to move. ‘What do you think?’

  He slid his lips over hers. Once, twice. ‘I think we’d best get back to—’

  High-pitched laughter was followed by the sounds of the door opening and two voices; one male, one female.

  Quick as a flash Luke whipped her skirt down over her knees as she struggled up. In the anticipatory silence she could feel his hands on her thighs, could almost hear his heart beating over her own.

  ‘I think we’re safe,’ the male voice murmured into the dimness.

  ‘Ah, not quite, I’m afraid,’ Luke said with a private moonlit grin only Melanie could see.

  Meeting Luke’s we’re-in-this-together eyes, Melanie bit her lip, just tipsy enough to want to giggle, sober enough to keep that urge in check.

  There was a pause, followed by a stifled gasp and a quick scuffle as the door closed.

  ‘I don’t know about you but that close call’s made me hungry,’ Luke said, scouring the carpet and retrieving Melanie’s shoes.

  She slid off the desk, smoothed her clothing, stepped into her shoes. ‘I could do with a coffee. Do you think we’ve missed supper?’

  ‘No. It’s too early.’ Luke zipped his
fly, yanked his belt further up his waist then walked to the door, looked both ways. ‘The coast’s clear. What say we check out the kitchen instead?’

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  ‘IS THAT coffee I can smell fresh, Melanie?’

  In the kitchen Melanie’s high spirits plummeted. That arrogant boom could only belong to one man. Smile fixed in place, she turned. ‘Colin.’ And far too close. ‘Yes, would you care for one? Luke’s just gone to the bathroom—’ to dispose of the condom ‘—he’ll be back in a moment.’

  He nodded. ‘If it’s not too much trouble.’

  ‘Not at all.’ She manoeuvred around busy wait staff to set another mug on the bench. ‘How do you take it?’

  ‘Black, no sugar.’

  He leaned an upraised arm on the wall, an intimidating stance and near enough for Melanie to see the pulse beating in his throat, the glint in his dark eyes as they focused on hers. Sizing her up.

  ‘Well, Melanie Sawyer, no more waiting tables, eh?’

  The way he said it, as if hard honest work wasn’t good enough, highlighted what she already knew of his prejudice. Or was it just her in particular he didn’t like?

  ‘No,’ she replied. Yet here I am fixing you coffee.

  ‘I’ll have a few of those fish things—’ he indicated one of the supper dishes with a flick of his wrist ‘—and a couple of sausage rolls. Plates are in that cupboard.’ He leaned down so his breath stirred the hair at her brow and said, ‘Between you and me, I don’t trust the catering service’s crockery.’

  ‘Oh?’ She almost shuddered at the thought of anything between her and Colin Delaney. Except…he’d almost been a grandfather to her baby… He was Luke’s flesh and blood… She had to make it work between them.

  She found a spatula on the bench and slid the requested savouries onto the requested clean plate. ‘These guys have a high standard of hygiene…’

  This man had also denied her the information to Luke’s whereabouts. ‘And I should know.’ She set the plate beside his coffee with a firm thud and matched his gaze with a cool stare. ‘I’ve worked with Class Catering.’

  ‘Melanie.’ Elizabeth stood in the doorway. She shot her husband a glance that said she’d been standing there quite long enough to get the drift—and tone—of the conversation, then smiled at Melanie. She held an elegant store-wrapped box. ‘I hope my husband’s looking after you. I was looking for Luke.’

  ‘He’s—’

  ‘Right here, Mum.’

  Melanie breathed an inaudible sigh of relief as Elizabeth turned to her son, diverting attention away from her. ‘I picked you up a little something for your apartment today,’ she said.

  ‘Spencer Overton’s here to discuss the plans for our new promotion, Luke,’ Colin interrupted. ‘He’s leaving for the States tomorrow and I’d like you to be in on this. When you’ve got a spare moment, we’ll be in the study.’

  ‘I’ll be right there.’ Luke’s eyes linked with Melanie’s for a brief moment before he broke the connection and kissed his mother’s cheek. ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  He slipped off the bow and ribbons, peeled away the shiny paper. ‘Glasses.’ He withdrew one and held it to the light where it sparkled.

  Not just any glasses, Melanie noted. Famous brand, exquisitely cut crystal glasses on delicate stems, which put her own house-warming offering from the local chain store to shame. And a fancy silver corkscrew with a multi-faceted crystal knob on top.

  She bit the inside of her lip. How could she hope to come up to scratch with this wealthy family?

  But Luke’s eyes were warm when he said, ‘You can never have too many glasses.’ He winked conspiratorially at her. ‘Nor too many corkscrews.’ His expression sobered. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Fine.’ Melanie smiled. But she didn’t feel fine. She felt sticky and tense and oh-so-aware of the draught of air beneath her skirt cooling her still-hot woman’s flesh. Play with fire…

  ‘I’d better go see what Dad wants.’ Luke gave her a quick miss-me kiss before she could think of why this whole idea had been a mistake.

  ‘Do you like to read, Melanie?’ his mother asked as soon as Luke had gone.

  ‘Yes, when I get time.’

  Elizabeth led the way out of the kitchen and down the hall towards the library. ‘We have a large collection of books here, if you’d like to borrow something some time.’ She opened the door, switched on the light.

  Melanie’s gaze flew straight to the little table lamp on the desk, and she breathed a sigh of relief. All okay.

  Elizabeth walked to the largest set of shelves, which covered one wall, and perused the titles, all first editions and leather-bound books—not a cheap paperback in sight.

  ‘Poetry?’

  As in…Blake? Browning? Melanie shook her head. ‘No, poetry doesn’t do it for me, I’m afraid.’ Nor did most of the classic authors. Did that automatically ostracise her?

  ‘Any particular authors? Genres?’

  Melanie shook her head. ‘Anything with good characterisation, and I like an unexpected plot twist.’

  Elizabeth nodded, still studying the shelves. ‘These are all Colin’s books, or they’ve been handed down through the family. I like a good romance myself.’ She crossed to an antique oak cabinet, opened a door and withdrew a handful of well-read paperbacks.

  Melanie studied the covers—windswept landscapes, sultry women in sexy lingerie on silken sheets. Hot, hard men with their hands on voluptuous female flesh. She picked up a familiar book. ‘This is one of my favourite authors.’

  ‘So you like a happy ending too.’

  ‘Yes.’ Melanie thought of her and Luke and her stomach tangled into a hard knot. A happy ending wasn’t in her future. She didn’t fit in here with first editions and lead-crystal glasses. Not that it mattered-no-strings Luke was strictly temporary. At least that had always been crystal clear. ‘But this is fantasy,’ Melanie said, setting the book down. ‘Real life’s not like that.’

  ‘No, it’s not,’ Elizabeth said slowly. She paced a few steps away, then turned. ‘I worry about Luke. It’s a mother’s prerogative, I guess,’ she said with a hint of a smile. ‘He’s a soft centre, easily hurt.’

  A rose-cream-smothered-in-dark-chocolate man. Melanie knew.

  ‘Over the years he’s become an expert at hiding his emotions,’ Elizabeth continued. ‘But with you this evening…it’s obvious how he feels about you. He couldn’t wait till tonight to show you off, and he may not have mentioned it to me, but I know he was afraid you might not come.’ Her vivid blue eyes assessed Melanie. ‘I’d hate to see him hurt.’

  Ah, the lioness protecting her own. ‘So would I.’ Melanie heard the snip in her voice. And what about your husband? she wanted to ask. How would Luke feel knowing his father had refused to put her in touch, that Luke had never had the chance to be a part of her pregnancy? ‘Luke and I are…close friends, we both understand, and value, our relationship.’

  Elizabeth nodded as if satisfied with that answer—for now—and switched topics. ‘And you, Melanie? I understand how hard it must have been to lose your parents. Your mother was a loyal employee and a hard worker. You’ve worked hard too, to get where you are.’

  ‘Yes.’ And do you really understand all that?

  Elizabeth must have read Melanie’s expression because she lifted a shoulder and her blue eyes clouded, her lips turned down at the corners. ‘My father was a factory worker, my mother took in ironing.’ Her voice was firm, matter-of-fact. ‘He worked hard and struggled every day of his life till a heart attack took him, leaving my mother with two small children.’

  Melanie’s breath caught and she instantly regretted the bite in her tone. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

  Because Luke had never told her.

  ‘How did you meet your husband?’

  ‘I worked as a cashier in his first restaurant. When he had some success he promoted me to his office as a personal assistant.’ Her voice softened with time-honoured memories. ‘It wa
s a long time ago. I just wanted you to understand before… Before you two make any important decisions.’ Something sad drifted across her smile, then her eyes brightened and she said, ‘What say we drag Luke away from business and get some supper?’

  * * *

  ‘Let me come over after I’ve finished up here.’ Luke opened the chauffeured car door for Melanie, catching a whiff of her perfume, the bump of a shoulder as she climbed in.

  ‘Not tonight. I’m on duty at seven tomorrow morning. I need to sleep.’

  ‘I’ll let you sleep—’ he whispered in her ear, unable to resist a nibble ‘—after.’

  She lifted her mouth for another goodnight kiss. ‘No.’ But she smiled as she said it.

  ‘Okay, in that case I’ll stay here overnight, get an early start on clearing out the rest of my gear. There are boxes that go back years. If you change your mind at three a.m.…’

  She grinned. ‘See you Saturday afternoon.’

  ‘Ah, the baby shower.’

  ‘You have to keep Ben company.’

  ‘I hardly know the guy.’

  ‘Good reason to keep him company, then.’

  * * *

  She didn’t change her mind, which Luke decided was probably a good thing, since he ended up spending Friday helping his mum take down curtains, take out rugs. Spring cleaning in the middle of winter. God knew they could have employed their cleaning service for some extra hours but Mum wanted to do it herself, and Luke was all for letting her, except he was the one doing most of the work, wasn’t he?

  He didn’t mind at all. Mum had never forgotten her roots and every so often she reverted to the woman she must have been before she married. Doing everything herself. Getting her hands dirty. He wondered if it had something to do with the talk she and Mel had been having in the library. She didn’t seem inclined to discuss it.

  Which was fine, he thought, dumping the last few cartons from his old room into the boot of his car to sort through later. They had more in common than perhaps they realised at present and that had to be progress.

  * * *

  Normally Luke didn’t mind being the only male in a roomful of women. But not when one of those women looked dangerously ready to give birth at any moment… He shuddered at the thought.