A Stormy Spring (20 page)

Heart pounding like a jack hammer, Lucas collapsed on top of her then rolled to the side taking her with him.

‘You are wearing my T-shirt.’

Her teeth nibbled a tortuous path along his jaw.

‘So?’ She caught his bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it.

‘It appears I came home just in time before Leopold arrived. Who is Leopold?’

Big blue eyes twinkled into his. The inner muscles of her core clenched around him making his breath hitch.

‘Pilate’s instructor.’ Her tongue licked his bottom lip. ‘He has fabulous core strength.’

‘He pays house calls?’

‘Twice a day, three times on Sunday.’

‘Funny girl. I know you did the naughty.’

Her lashes batted in such a way it did something to him in the vicinity of his heart.

She was teasing him and he loved it.

‘Why, Lucas, I have no idea what you are talking about.’

‘You pleasured yourself.’

The hectic flush in her cheeks made him laugh.

Her eyes narrowed into his. ‘I bet you’ve done it plenty of times.’

‘I am a healthy male.’

‘And I’m a healthy female.’

He knew he sounded pathetic but couldn’t seem to help himself.

‘Are you telling me I do not satisfy you?’

Becca’s gentle fingertips smoothed his hair. ‘You do more than satisfy me when you’re here.’

‘Then perhaps it might be an idea for you to travel with me when you are better. I would hate to have you suffer in silence.’

‘Are you trying to tell me that you didn’t miss me?’

‘I more than missed you,
querida
.’ He flipped her on her back and loomed above her. ‘Let me show you how much.’

Later, since it was Moira’s night off, Lucas heated a chicken hotpot in the oven.

Becca set the table marvelling at how normal and domestic the situation felt.

Black hair clung damply to his head from the shower showcasing sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw that badly needed a shave. He wore his favourite jeans, faded to white at the seams and knees. They hung low on his hips and he’d added an ivory cotton sweater, the sleeves pulled up to his elbows. His strong arms had a light dusting of black hair and she couldn’t help but admire those long narrow fingers as they opened a bottle of wine.

He poured her a thimbleful and a full glass for himself.

‘Thank you, daddy,’ she said tasting the wine, grinning as he set a glass of fruit juice in front of her.

Those amazing eyes flashed for a moment before he turned his attention to slicing a stick of French bread.

‘You like to live dangerously,
querida
. We need to talk about your Smartphone. Where is it?’

Becca couldn’t help it, she pouted. ‘It’s upstairs.’

He didn’t speak. He didn’t need to. The look was enough.

When she returned with the device, he was sitting at the table, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bread.

Lucas took it from her, slid off the rubber cover, pressed a button at the top of the phone and voila it lit up like a Christmas tree.

‘How was I to know the button was under the cover? How does that make sense?’ she demanded.

He ignored her and his attitude nipped her temper.

‘See these little red alerts? Those are my messages to you. Use the cursor to move to the message, press on the icon and scroll through them.’

Feeling a complete idiot Becca did as he said and sure enough found numerous emails and texts and missed calls.

‘Phone me,’ he said and pulled his own cell from his pocket.

She gave him a black look. ‘You’re sitting right in front of me.’

‘Do it.’

She thumbed over to the phone icon and pressed. He wasn’t completely satisfied until she’d sent and responded to a text.

His dark eyes stayed on hers as he spoke. ‘You have no excuse now not to return my calls and messages. I will speak to you every morning and I expect a response.’

Annoyance with herself and with his autocratic attitude made her voice sharp.

‘Stop treating me like a ten year old.’

‘A ten year old would have no issue with this device,’ he told her in a tone that made her cringe.

‘I don’t understand why companies can’t keep these things simple. I love my Nokia.’

‘It is life. Get used to it. Do you have a car?’

The change of subject had her blink at him.

‘Not in town. The cost of parking’s prohibitive.’

‘But you do drive?’ he asked in a tone that made her hand itch to smack him.

Stung, she glared at him. ‘Of course I drive. Why?’

Lucas gave his signature shrug.

‘I divide my time between here and my home in Spain. When we move there, you will need to drive or I can supply a driver.’

He was getting a bit ahead of himself, Becca decided as a panicky sense of her life spiralling out of control gripped her.

‘What if I don’t want to go to Spain? What about my work?’

His sculpted mouth thinned and the shutters came down over his eyes and she had no idea what he was thinking and she didn’t like it, not one little bit. The last time she’d seen that face was when he’d thought she was a married woman on the prowl. The scene they’d had in the hotel still made her blood run cold.

‘My father is anxious to meet you,
querida
.’

By the tone of his voice and the look in his eye, Lucas wasn’t looking forward to it she realised. She knew she wasn’t high society material. In spite of her mother’s high profile, Becca preferred life out of the public eye. From what she’d found on Google, Don Norberto was an older version of Lucas. Still attractive in his late sixties, he was a charismatic and powerful presence in the corporate world. He supported plenty of good causes too and might he expect his future daughter-in-law to play Lady Bountiful? She couldn’t do it.

‘I won’t give up my work.’ Anxiety made her voice too high and Lucas raised a brow at her tone.

‘No one has suggested you should. But at the moment you are not in a position to work full time. Have you spoken to Justin?’ Dark eyes, sharp now, studied her carefully.

She shook her head. ‘He might be out of the country.’

‘I get the distinct feeling he is temperamental?’

That was putting it mildly. But she wasn’t going to discuss her complex relationship with Justin with Lucas. There was too much mutual animosity and she didn’t want to get in the middle of it.

‘He’s a highly creative personality.’

And then there was the second anniversary of Rick and Lily’s funeral to deal with. The closer the date came, the darker her world seemed to become. Not that she could tell Lucas that. He’d done more than enough for her. He certainly didn’t need her dumping even more emotional baggage at his door.

‘Are you sure everything is okay?’ That voice was a low purr now and it shivered through Becca’s system as his eyes went dark and intense.

Deciding to stick to a neutral subject, she boosted a smile and gave him big eyes.

‘Of course everything is okay. The food smells amazing. Moira’s a gem.’

Lucas blinked at the change of subject. ‘She is.’

With her tongue firmly in her cheek, Becca grinned. ‘She tells me she used to change your nappies and has smacked your bottom.’

His grin matched hers now.

And his deep voice rumbled the reply, ‘
Si
, this is true.’

Resting her elbow on the table, Becca rested her chin on her hand.

‘How old is she?’

‘In her late fifties. John is sixty-two. He is ex-army and was papa’s bodyguard.’

A sense of unease tickled the base of Becca’s spine.

She sat up straight. ‘Bodyguard?’

Lucas rose to check the oven timer and turned to her.

‘
Si
, he looks after me these days.’

‘Why do you need a bodyguard?’

Her tone had him stare at her in surprise. ‘My family is wealthy,
querida
. It is wise to take precautions.’

She wondered if that was why Lucas insisted John drove her wherever she wanted to go. Becca didn’t like being kept in the dark and she realised that Lucas drip fed her information when and if it suited him.

The last few weeks she’d been cocooned and protected in his little world Becca realised. She hadn’t seen any of her dance friends and Justin had disappeared. She wondered if Lucas had warned him off. Perhaps she’d simply exchanged one control freak for another? Watching him take the food out of the oven and begin to spoon the hot pot into warmed chunky bowls, the stark reality of her situation hit her.

She’d absolutely no idea who Lucas Del Garda really was. And after his big words, he certainly wasn’t in a hurry to put a ring on her finger, was he? Her conscience told her she was not being at all fair to him but she shrugged it off.

Nibbling on her food, a myriad of thoughts crossed her mind. She needed to take control of her own life. The next appointment with the doctor was in four days. Hopefully her blood pressure will have stabilised. She’d done everything asked of her and the headaches had eased. Once she was well enough to travel, she’d go to France and take a long break from Lucas, from work and from Justin.

The last phone call she’d had from her mother filled her with unease. Amelie was worried and missing her daughter.

‘You are very quiet. What are you thinking?’

It never ceased to amaze her how tuned in Lucas was to her moods.

He’d spot a lie instantly, so she went with the truth. ‘I’m missing my mother.’

Again the little shrug before he gave his full attention to his food. ‘It is natural,
querida
.’

When they’d finished, he insisted she go into the TV room and relax, he had work to do.

As she channel surfed in front of a massive flat screen fixed to the wall, Becca decided the time had come to take back her life. The evils of her situation now too clear in her mind.

Who could blame her for being in shock about her pregnancy? But she’d let Lucas take over and she’d been happy to let him. The same thing had happened with Justin after Rick’s death. It appeared to be a recurring theme in her life these days and it needed to stop.

After all she was an adult for God’s sake.

She’d neglected what mattered for too long. Tomorrow she’d tidy the grave and make it ready for the second anniversary. It was time to honour the years she’d had with Rick.

It was time to honour the dead.

The plane landed.

Two days after having dinner with Becca, Lucas checked the arrival screen at Heathrow. The Paris flight was on time. In the last forty-eight hours Becca had changed, become distant and no matter what he did he couldn’t reach her. Declining to use his driver, twice she’d taken a taxi and disappeared for hours and she refused point blank to answer her phone or reply to emails.

He’d never met anyone so fucking stubborn in his entire life.

She’d taken to sleeping separately from him saying she was feeling tired and out of sorts. And when he’d tried to talk her back to his bed, she’d resisted and almost broke him by what she’d worn to sleep in the spare room - Rick’s shirt.

It was clear she was hurting.

Lucas thought he knew why and had decided to do something about it.

The conversation with Amelie Babineaux early this morning did nothing to allay his concerns about Becca. Either her mother was a liar or her daughter had told her nothing about her circumstances. Considering how much Becca loved and missed her mother, none of it made sense.

When the woman appeared he could only stare. Amelie might be in her late-fifties but she still turned heads. Slim and an inch shorter than her daughter, her naturally blonde hair was streaked with silver and cut in a long bob under her chin enhancing the vivid blue of her eyes.

Those eyes impaled his as she moved with a quick, lithe grace towards him. Her reputation for not suffering fools along with a formidable temper was well-known. His attitude on the telephone to her hadn’t been friendly and he suspected he was about to receive the sharp end of her tongue.

She came to an abrupt stop in front of him and jerked up her chin. Yes, definitely annoyed.

Moving in a pre-emptive strike to take her hand, he pressed a chaste kiss to her fingertips.

‘You are almost as beautiful as Rebecca.’

Lucas didn’t miss the flash of approval and was pleased. He’d wondered if the mother was jealous of the daughter, he’d seen it often enough on the continent. Those blue eyes went thoughtful as she studied him from head to toe before withdrawing her hand from his.

‘And you have the look of your father, Lucas,’ she said, her French accent shimmering through English.

‘I had no idea you were acquainted with him.’

She’d turned to hand John her snazzy suitcase on wheels.

Now she slid Lucas a look that for some reason made him feel terribly uncomfortable.

They were settled in the car before she responded, ‘Unlike you, Juan is a gentleman.’ Her eyes met his and he read an absolute fury. ‘Perhaps you can explain
why
you spoke to me in such way?’

He didn’t flinch under the power of an incredible will.

‘I can do better than that, Madame Babineaux. I will show you.’

Her smooth brow creased now, but Amelie gave him a single nod. ‘Very well.’

They sat in icy silence for many minutes until the car eventually purred to a halt outside Becca’s apartment.

Lucas didn’t do guilt or have a conscience when it came to the greater good. He’d been perfectly happy to invade Becca’s bag and take her keys.

John held the car door open as Amelie exited like a Queen, her blue eyes concerned as she studied the elegant facade of the Victorian building. The wind still retained a bite even though it was early March and he watched her shiver in apprehension.

Without speaking Lucas led the way up the stairs.

He turned to her before he opened the door and switched on the light.

Gesturing for her to go first, he didn’t bother to hide the hard edge to his voice.

‘Perhaps you can explain to me why a loving mother would permit her daughter to live like this?’