His Sister's Wedding (10 page)

Despite the seductive huskiness of his words in the kitchen, the message behind them
was as disturbing as ever. He was offering only half of himself.

"It's very kind of you," Lillie said softly. "But I'll be okay here tonight. I'll
just push a chair in front of the door. The thief won't come back."

"No way am I leaving you here by yourself," Luke declared flatly, his expression suddenly
unequivocal. "You think a chair will keep that kind of guy from getting in?"

Lillie glanced around the room. She'd never felt unsafe here. Now she wondered if
she'd ever feel safe anywhere. Truthfully, a large part of her wanted to hover next
to Luke for a long time. It was irrational. Even Luke couldn't stop bullets. Still
the thought of him leaving made her feel edgy.

"If you don't want to stay with me, why don't I take you to a friend's house?" he
offered, his face concerned.

"It's after two o'clock in the morning," she protested. "I'll be all right here."
She probably wouldn't get a wink of sleep but she refused to wake up a friend at two
in the morning when she wasn't in dire need.

"We could probably find you a motel room," Luke said reluctantly. "But I'd feel better
if you were with someone."

"I've been robbed. That doesn't mean I need a keeper."

"You need more than a keeper," he retorted. "You need someone to make you see sense."

"I guess a motel would be best." Lillie tried to keep the hesitant tone out of her
voice. "It's just so impersonal."

Luke stared at her, a considering look on his face.

"Listen," she said, her conscience kicking in, "it's not your problem. I can drive
myself to the motel." She pulled out of his arms with a determined smile. "Thanks
for staying with me. You've been wonderful."

He let her move away, his arms falling to his sides. "I'm not through being wonderful.
I think you should stay at my place tonight--"

She opened her mouth to protest.

"--and I'll stay here," he finished.

"You'll stay
here
? I can't let you do that!"

"Why not?"

"You're not much safer here than I would be," she argued. "What if they come back
with a gun?"

"Honey," he ran a hand down his face, "I'm tired. And when I'm tired, I'm mean. Believe
me, I'll be okay."

"I don't think it's safe," she repeated.

"I'll be fine and it's the quickest way for us both to get some sleep tonight," Luke
said.

He did look tired, she realized, feeling her own weariness as reaction took its toll.
"I guess you're right," Lillie said reluctantly. "If you'll give me directions to
your place, I'll accept your hospitality."

Rather than giving her directions, Luke drove to his apartment, Lillie following behind
in her van. All the way over, she wondered if she was insane. What was so bad about
a motel?
It's
cold and lonely,
a part of her argued. Particularly when she felt chilled and scared anyway.

What would Luke's apartment be like? It was hard to imagine. He didn't seem like the
kind of man to be contained inside four walls.

He lived in a small apartment complex, she found, not far from his business. Lillie
parked her van in the lot and climbed the stairs after him, suddenly aware of just
how intimate the situation had become. Even if he wasn't there, sleeping over at Luke's
place roused disturbing feelings in her.

When he unlocked the door and she followed him in, Lillie wasn't surprised. It wasn't
a big apartment, just a kitchen, bath and bedroom besides the small living area.

Everything about the space seemed utilitarian and somehow masculine. A comfortable
brown and gold plaid couch shared a corner with a nondescript recliner--both positioned
to face the television. A stack of books on landscaping and small business management
decorated the scarred coffee table. A pair of work boots sat on top of newspapers
that cluttered the floor next to the recliner.

"Come on in." Luke scooped a t-shirt and a pair of socks off the floor without apparent
embarrassment. "The bedroom is in here, bath off to the left. I don't have any tea,
but there's coffee in the kitchen if you need caffeine to get you going in the morning.
Towels are in the closet in the bathroom."

He headed into the kitchen and Lillie heard him slam-dunk his handful of laundry into
the washer.

"Make yourself at home." He came back into the living room where she still stood,
feeling more than a little awkward with the situation. "You know where to find me
if you need anything," he directed as if he'd appointed himself her guardian.

She followed him to the door, forcing herself to pay attention to his instructions
about the locks.

"Goodnight, Ms. Parker," Luke paused in the doorway, a smile lighting his eyes. "Thanks
for a lovely evening."

CHAPTER FIVE

When he was gone, Lillie wandered through the apartment. Despite the late hour, she
felt tense.

Even with a lingering guilt at her nosiness, she couldn't help being curious about
Luke and how he lived. Everything about the apartment echoed him--not by design, she
was sure. She couldn't imagine Luke doing anything as civilized as "decorating."

Still the solid wood furniture with its durable upholstery, the occasional sports
poster tacked on the wall--everything seemed to reveal Luke. Everything about the
place was no-frills basic. Like the man who occupied the space, the apartment offered
utilitarian comfort with no extras. The curtains that covered the windows had obviously
been chosen to do just that.

The only picture graced the top of the television, a smiling Melanie peering out of
a cheap frame. Did Luke deliberately eschew soft pillows and matching table cloths
or was he just personally incapable of choosing them?

Although the rooms weren't spick and span, the apartment wasn't as trashed as she'd
expected. Lillie drifted into the kitchen, telling herself she wanted a drink of water.
As she would have expected, dishes sat in the sink waiting to be washed by the dirty-dish
fairy.

Opening his refrigerator, she discovered a slab of take-out pizza, still in the box,
a carton of whole milk, a six pack of beer with one can missing and a withered head
of iceberg lettuce. The freezer full of frozen dinners.

Typical bachelor fare.

If ever a man needed a woman's touch, it was Luke. She couldn't help wondering why,
if he preferred this spartan lifestyle, he was attracted to her? Did he, down deep,
long for softness and romance?

Scolding herself for the ridiculous thought, Lillie went back into the living room
and determinedly turned on the television. If the late night shows didn't bore her
into exhaustion, nothing would.

Sitting on the couch, she found herself idly glancing at some papers placed near Luke's
stack of books. Research reports on treating pests in local trees. A paper outlining
effective organic pesticides. He apparently took his business seriously.

She flicked off the television after a few minutes, fatigue settling in even though
she still felt edgy.

Going into Luke's bedroom took effort. A wicked part of her mind couldn't help thinking
about what it would be like to share the room with Luke. But Lillie subdued the wayward
thoughts by reminding herself that she probably wouldn't be the first to do so.

Surely he hadn't lived here when he was engaged, her rational side said. Did he have
mementoes of his old girlfriends.

Another part of her prayed he wasn't one of those playboys who liked to leave women's
lingerie dangling from the ceiling fan.

Was she misjudging him? Just because he'd set his sights on her with the determination
of a hunter didn't mean he wanted to conquer the entire female population, despite
his supposedly broken heart.

He'd been a sweetheart tonight, not even batting an eye when she'd gone weepy. Despite
his macho exterior, Luke had moments of tenderness.

Where did that gentleness go when the subject of love was mentioned? At those times,
he seemed as grim and heartless as a man could be.

A picture flashed in her head--Luke's face when he'd met his mother on Lillie's sidewalk--his
eyes glacier cold. She'd never seen him more unfeeling.

Something was very wrong there. How could a mother and son have grown so far apart?
And more importantly, could they be brought back together?

It upset Lillie to remember his transformation from warmth and laughter to icy rejection.
She'd hate to see his frigid hostility projected in her direction.

Dragging her thoughts forcibly away from Luke, Lillie made herself get ready for bed.
Grabbing up her toothbrush, she went into the bathroom to put on her nightshirt.

Masculine toiletries cluttered the counter top as if he couldn't be bothered with
stashing them away in the medicine cabinet. Since he presumably lived alone, Lillie
wasn't surprised to see the toilet seat up.

Refusing to think about getting naked in Luke's space, she marched into the bedroom,
yanked back the covers of his king-sized water bed and climbed in.

His scent enveloped her, the soft caress of cotton was cool against her bare arms
and legs as the bed gently rocked her. Lillie gulped. Sinking back on the pillow,
she curled into a ball and closed her eyes tight. She could almost feel the imprint
of his big body on the bed, his warm, tanned flesh naked between the sheets.

Her eyes popped open. This would never do. Forcing herself to relax, Lillie tucked
the pillow more comfortably under her head and concentrated on clearing her mind.

It was then the thought hit her. She was in Luke's bed...and he was in hers.

The image came unbidden. Luke, bare-chested, sprawled out in her white, lace-bedecked
four-poster bed.

Lillie took a deep breath.

Darn, if that image didn't look strangely right. Her house had already been invaded
by a thief. She should have felt uncomfortable, at least, to have Luke roaming her
space the way she'd been exploring his. But she didn't.

What would have happened if she'd accepted his first offer? Was there even a chance
that he'd have kept his word and kept his hands to himself? Or would she have been
overwhelmed by her own unruly response to him and found her hands wandering?

Just for a second, she let herself imagine seducing Luke. Laying him out in this big
bed and stroking every inch of his arousing body. He'd be hard and hot and she could
almost feel the danger of his kiss. Lillie shivered, her body both hot and cold.

Great. It would be a miracle if she got to sleep before dawn.

*   *   *

Luke let himself into Lillie's bungalow, every sense alert. The intruders could have
come back to get what they'd left.

But the house was quiet. Shutting the door behind him, Luke glanced around the room,
really seeing it for the first time. Aside from the broken lamp and tumbled couch,
it looked like Lillie.

Everything about the room was soft. Polished wood gleamed; the comfortable couch with
its soft cushions beckoned. Pictures graced the walls and crowded a tabletop, the
framed faces laughing in delight. The room was a nest, a place filled with lovingly-created
beauty.

From the first, he'd suspected that Lillie knew how to make a home. Her house welcomed
him.

He remembered again the sound of her shocked cry as she'd stood in the doorway and
the sense of his body going cold.

It was lucky for everyone that the slimebags hadn't been here then. God knew what
he'd have done to the scum if he'd gotten his hands on them.

He needed a beer. Luke stalked into the kitchen and jerked open her refrigerator.
It sparkled inside. Clean shelves, clean vegetables. A fresh carafe of orange juice.

No beer. He should have known. The woman didn't even drink coffee.

Luke slammed the door shut. Rubbing a hand over his tired face, he turned away. The
events of the evening were starting to take their toll on him. If he was going to
get anything done the next day, he had to get some sleep.

Walking back through the living room, Luke paused long enough to pick up the broken
lamp. He dumped the larger pieces of broken glass in the trash basket and pulled the
couch back into position.

He didn't know for sure why he was bothering except that he thought Lillie wouldn't
feel as bad when she came home tomorrow.

On the other side of the living room, the bedroom door beckoned. Luke drew a deep
breath, the scents of wood polish and pot pourri tickling his nose.

Probably should check her office, he thought, veering away from the bedroom.

The entry to the enclosed porch stood ajar. He flicked on the light. A quick scan
indicated that the thieves hadn't been in the room. Everything seemed normal, the
wicker chairs with their soft print cushions still in place. Lillie's desk scattered
over with papers just as he'd seen it before.

Turning off the light, Luke went back into the living room and made himself walk to
the bedroom. He stopped in the doorway.