Fixed Up (8 page)

He tugged the towel back, pulling her off balance towards him. Their feet bumped, her knee nudged into his shins and she let out a small yelp. Laughing, he grabbed her elbows to steady her, his hands slipping slightly on soft wet skin. He felt her tense, but she didn't move away, just looked up at him with her big brown eyes. Something in those eyes begged him to kiss her. He knew enough about women to know she wanted him.

He slipped his hands a little higher up her arms, pulling her closer into his sphere. She didn't help, but she didn't resist either. His thumbs slipped along her skin. She was close enough now he could almost have buried his face into her neck and breathed her in—natural woman, herbal shampoo and a faint lick of paint. Wanting her would drive him crazy.

And still she didn't move away. Frozen like a deer in the headlights, waiting to see what he would do next. Waiting; her lips parted. His pulse pounded through his fingertips eliciting a responding shiver from her; a welcoming sign he couldn't ignore. An opportunity too good not to take. And man, he wanted to take. Take her hard, take her gently, take her anyway, as long as he had her. He pulled her into his arms, bending his head low to taste those pink kissable lips. Gently. Testing the water. Then with increasing pressure as she yielded to him and responded in kind. Her lips soft, yet insistent as they met his.

She shuddered and his heart thumped an erratic beat as he pulled her hard against him, wrapping his arms around her slim waist to hold her tight in his embrace. He lifted her, adjusting her small, perfect form to his large frame till she melded into him, her soft curves pressed against him. Her arms reached to wind around his neck, her fingers in his hair as she pulled his head towards her. She gave herself to him in a passionate and intoxicating kiss.

He was on fire.

Lips crushed against lips, demanding and heady. His hands explored her slender back, moving to stroke up and down her spine. Heated sensation after heated sensation burned through him, and he couldn't get enough. He buried his face into her delicate neck, revelling in the tiny whimper of sound she made as his breath whispered across satiny skin. She melted into his touch when he found a sensitive spot at the base of her throat, tasting her, breathing her in, before trailing up her neck to explore her mouth again, seducing with his tongue.

The crash of the door behind them and a startled ‘woops' jolted him back to reality. The door slammed shut again, but the moment was gone. Harper ripped her mouth away and shoved him back so hard he'd have toppled over if he hadn't grabbed hold of the bench.

‘Crap, crap, crap,' she said. Her eyes filled with panic, followed by an icy fury. She glared up at him, swiping her hands desperately at her swollen mouth as if she could remove all evidence of his branding kisses. Then she turned, smoothing her hair and her clothes and pushed back into the classroom.

How could she have been so brainless? So unprofessional. So … so obvious. She'd completely lost the plot and now one of her students had seen her kissing Luke. Or maybe Mr Thompson had dropped by to see her as he occasionally did after class. Surreptitiously checking up on her. Harper rushed through the classroom to look down the corridor. Empty.

She pressed her hands to her face, rubbing her eyes with a moan. Resisted the urge to bang her head on the doorframe to smash some sense into it. Too late for that. The damage was done and now she had to fix it. Or at least deal with the fall out.

She sensed Luke behind her. ‘This is a disaster,' she said blasting the polar chill of her anger on him.

‘It's a kiss, Harper, not a world crisis.'

‘It might just be a kiss to you, but it's a total professional disaster to me. It makes me look ridiculous.'

‘Who saw us? I'll ask them not to say anything. I'll sort it.'

‘I didn't see anyone. They legged it down the corridor. God, this is a nightmare.' Harper felt sick. She pressed her hand to her mouth.
Don't puke in front of Luke.

‘It's embarrassing, I agree. But it's not the end of the world—'

Harper cut him off. ‘It should never have happened. What was I thinking? I'm so stupid. You have to leave now and you can't come back tomorrow.'

Luke reached out towards her, his handsome face full of concern. ‘Really? If that's how you want to play it, I won't come tomorrow. But I'd rather be here. If anyone says anything, I'll knock it on the head. It'll all be forgotten by the weekend.'

‘Choice gossip fodder like this? I doubt it.' Harper dropped her head into her hands with a moan. ‘Crap, crap, crap.'

Luke placed his hand on her shoulder, offering comfort she so wanted to take, but she shook him off. ‘Don't touch me. You've done enough damage already.'

‘I'm sorry,' he said. ‘That we got busted, I mean. Not for the kiss—that was hot.'

God, Luke's kiss
was
hot, some part of her mind thought. The same destructive part that'd got her into this lamentable position in the first place. She had to shut that part down immediately. It had no right leading her astray, making her forget what was important.

Luke turned her to mush. Made her knees weak and her resolve even weaker.

‘I
am
sorry for the kiss. It won't happen again. Ever,' she said.

‘Come on. It's not like we were going at it hammer and tongs on the workbench. You're blowing everything out of proportion. One kiss between consenting adults in their own free time. That's all it was.'

Was it? It was difficult to think when Luke stood before her, tempting her with his hard body. Reminding her that he tasted of chocolate biscuits and warm, clean skin. The twinkle had returned to his eyes, turning them more blue than grey, which somehow confused her even more.

‘It might've been just any old kiss to you …' she said, suddenly incensed. How dare he be all twinkly eyed with her professional name at stake. ‘But—'

He interrupted her. ‘One awesome kiss. And there's plenty more where that came from, Princess.'

‘So
not
interested,' she said, seething now. Was he deliberately being facetious? Did he not see it from her side? Career-crushing, reputation-wrecking kisses couldn't be swept casually under the rug.

She wasn't her mother.

‘I work my arse off and I won't have you damaging my business and giving my clients cause to gossip about me.' Harper stomped over to hold the door open wide. ‘Don't you have somewhere else to be?'

***

Much to Harper's surprise Luke kept his word and stayed away from her class the next day. A relief, she thought. It would've been too embarrassing to have the women watch them, looking for signs there was something going on between them when Harper knew there was nothing.

So definitely a relief.

Except not having him lurking up the back where he'd consistently been for all four days of the course so far seemed to make it more obvious something
was
up. Almost as if he became more conspicuous through his absence. Did it highlight the fact that maybe there was something going on between them?

Crap. He'd wanted to come today. Harper hated to think he might have been right. Her mind swirled as it batted the possibilities back and forth.

And what was with all the whispering? She was pretty sure no one whispered in her class before today. Oh God. What must they think? She scanned the faces of her students, trying to ascertain if anyone looked more … knowingly at her.

‘Less gossip, more work please,' she said sharply. She blushed at her own unfortunate choice of words. Someone tittered and she turned to hide her face. They all needed to pull their heads in and get back on track. Today's topic, tiling, required precision, focus and a bit more skill than previous activities.

‘Use your spirit level to draw a vertical line from the centre-point to the top,' she said. ‘No, not there, the top of the area to be tiled.' She walked around the room, checking, straightening, offering advice. ‘Watch that adhesive. Try not to get it on the face of the tiles.'

Keeping her mind on the job helped. Issuing instructions and answering questions made the session fly by and Harper began to feel more normal as her control returned and her anxiety levels dropped. As the class ended for the day she couldn't help thinking she'd had a close call but that maybe there wouldn't be terrible repercussions. As long as it never happened again and she retained a thoroughly professional relationship with her students and no relationship at all with Luke, it would be okay.

But as she farewelled everyone at the end of the session and wished them all a successful DIY-filled weekend, she realised her ordeal hadn't ended yet.

Joan and Shelia loitered at their workbench. Usually the first out the door each day, Harper watched them with deep suspicion.

Suck it up, Harper.
‘Can I help you with something?'

Joan's eyes gleamed as she gave Shelia a look of excitement, nudging her. The sisters had the giggles, reminding Harper of two hyperactive kindergarteners.
Just spit it out and get it over with
. Harper shoved her fidgeting hands into her jeans pockets and focused on calming the fluttery feeling in her stomach. Luke's relatives clearly thought something was funny. What had he told them?

Shelia stepped forward with a big smile, clasping her hands to her chest. ‘I wanted to say how happy I was to hear the news about you and Luke,' she said.

Harper felt all her blood rush to her face and she dug her fingernails into her palms. Her gaze flicked round the room before she forced it back to Shelia's face.
Awkward
.

‘What news is that?' said Harper.

Shelia's tone was cryptic. ‘You know, about
you and Luke
.'

Despite a massive internal cringe Harper managed to retain a neutral expression on her face and not outwardly flinch, twitch or hyperventilate. It'd taken years of practice to master hiding the embarrassment inflicted on her by her mother's behaviour and it had become second nature: look casual, twist the situation around. Not such a piece of cake when the embarrassment was self-inflicted. She took a deep breath. ‘I don't know what Luke said to you, but in my opinion a man shouldn't be so quick to kiss and tell.'

‘Ooh, I told you it was true,' Joan blurted out. ‘You owe me ten dollars.' She held her hand up to high five her sister, and got a filthy look in return.

‘You made a bet about Luke and me?' Harper shook her head. Unbelievable!

‘It was just a little bet. I wanted to run a sweepstake but Shelia thought it was tacky.'

‘And what did Luke think? Did he think it was tacky? Or was he all set to make a killing off me?'

Joan looked confused. ‘Luke doesn't need money, not with that massive trust fund he inherited.' Shelia frowned and kicked Joan most unsubtly in the ankle.

O—kay, thought Harper. Luke's mother doesn't want me to know he has a trust fund, yet seems to think it perfectly acceptable for her son to kiss me and brag to the world about it.

That surprised her too. She'd come to like Shelia and enjoyed having her in the class. The Colton family seemed like decent people. In fact, more than decent, quite lovely, kind, caring people. But maybe it was a façade? Who knew better than she that families weren't all they appeared behind closed doors.

Harper's heart shrank a little, squeezed in her tightening chest. She should've known Luke was too good to be true. People always were. They found a multitude of different ways to disappoint and leave you stranded.

She blamed herself. She'd let him sit in her class. She'd let him make a spectacle of her. She'd let herself down; her behaviour as heedlessly predictable as her mother or sister. Her mum and Annie were so easily swayed by an attractive face, a promise, a distraction from the mundane reality of everyday life. They believed in the fairy tale. The prince. The rescue.

Harper knew it all to be a big fat steaming pile of crap.

If you wanted something in this world, you had to get it yourself.

***

Luke spent the weekend sweating. Confident weather forecasters had promised high temperatures with even higher humidity and for once they hadn't been wrong. The sky hung oppressively over Auckland, close and smothering.

He switched the radio off, sick of hearing doom and gloom. Sick of feeling sticky. The weather would get worse before it got better. Talk of cyclone-strength winds due to hit the city on Sunday night dominated news reports on all channels.

An electric charge in the atmosphere made him feel like he'd been plugged into a wall socket and only added to the foul mood he'd been in since Harper turfed him out on Thursday. He hadn't seen or heard anything from her for three days. Not even from his mother, who'd suddenly gone quiet on him. He didn't dare open himself up to humiliation by asking Joan if anyone had said anything in class on Friday.

Guilt swept through him. Harper's reaction to being seen with him had initially seemed ridiculous, but time and distance had him wondering if maybe there was something in it. Something remiss in his own behaviour.

It was unusual for him to forget—to forget not everyone had the luxury he did of doing whatever they wanted when they wanted. It looked to all the world like he had it easy. But inheriting his trust fund, inheriting his business, had come at a high price. He'd gladly give it all back in a heartbeat.

And now he wondered if by wanting to get close to Harper he'd lost sight of the fact it should be a two-way street. He'd assumed if he was in her face enough she'd see the error of her ways and fall swooning with desire at his feet. He'd somehow diminished Harper with his kiss, by downplaying their discovery. He now sincerely wished he hadn't.

Not wished he hadn't
kissed
her. Never that. He wished he'd tried harder to fix it so their parting hadn't been so … he didn't even know what their parting had been.