Lucifer's Lover (16 page)

“Yes,” she croaked, her voice thick with want.

He groaned and became still. “No,” he said and his voice too, was thick and furry. “No. Not here.” He dipped his head a little to kiss the tender skin showing between her shirt and straightened up. He looked her in the eye. His own were wide, black, depthless. “Not now.”

She still held fistfuls of his shirt in her hands. She let them go, trying to still her pounding heart and shaking limbs. She cleared her throat.

It was much too bright in the room. She felt almost groggy and her lips were swollen.

Plundered.

This is what she had wanted him to do, outside the board room. He had pulled away then too—sooner than this time but she had not been goading him into it then.

Why did he pull away?

And did she really want to know the answer? Because in her heart of hearts, she knew it was something to do with her.

Nothing touched him.
The thought was almost a despairing one. Nothing touched him—especially not flawed, frightened Lindsay.

She turned away, staring at the window.

“Hey, no, don’t do that,” he said, his voice rough. His hand curled around her arm and tugged her backward and she was enveloped in his warm arms, her back pressed against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Lynds, you don’t need me in your life. I’ll…ruin it.”

“It’s already ruined,” she told him. “And it had nothing to do with you.”

She’d said too much again. Annoyed, she stepped out of his arms and headed for the door, carefully avoiding his gaze. He didn’t try to stop her.

She opened the door and would have stepped through except she knew if she did then it really would be over. It was too symbolic. Too final. She couldn’t let it go at that. Not yet.

She turned, her back against the open door. “Tell me one thing. What are you doing here?”

“Here?” He spread his hands to indicate the room. “Recovering. Getting my heart back to normal speed.” He grinned.

“You know what I mean.”

He rubbed the back of his neck and Lindsay recognized it. He was feeling awkward and uncomfortable.

“What are you doing here, Luke? Why aren’t you in New York?”

“I…ah…I’m just helping out a little.”

“Hey! Boss!” The call came from the bathroom and a skinny kid in dirty overalls wandered out, a tile in one hand and a tiling scorer in the other. “This thing doesn’t cut worth shit. Now what do I do?”

He was talking to Luke.

“You have to score it a few times on the same line then break it over something,” Lindsay told the kid. From the side of her vision she saw Luke’s quick glance at her.

The boy’s eyes opened wide. “Gotcha,” he said slowly. “You mean, break it over my knee or something?”

She winced.

“Line up two of the matches I gave you for spacing out the tiles and break it over them,” Luke told him.

“Riiiiight,” the boy said and headed back to the bathroom.

“Boss?” she repeated softly.

He spread his hand helplessly. “I’m just helping out this one weekend.” He waved toward the hallway. “Let’s go downstairs, huh?”

She followed him down the stairs and into the lounge area. “Who is the project manager on this, if you aren’t?” she asked.

“Tom Britton,” Luke answered over his shoulder.

Well, he was right on that count.

“Hey, Luke!” a woman called, stepping over drop sheets and cans of paint. She had a cell phone in her hand, which she offered to Luke. “Your Pinewood project is on the phone. They need you to authorize the delivery of the lumber you ordered last week.”

Luke glanced at Lindsay took the phone and turned away, speaking quietly. He disconnected the call and handed the phone back silently.

Lindsay out-waited him, her arms crossed.

“What?” he said at last.

“
Your
project?”

“I guess they just trust me. You know how people do that?”

“No.”

“Luke!” It was the woman again, the cell phone clipped to her belt. She was holding a sheet of paper. “Could I have your Visa card again, Luke? We gotta pay for the railing for the stairs before they’ll deliver.”

Luke didn’t even glance her way and Lindsay knew he was trying to avoid her gaze.

She kept her gaze firmly on him as he pulled out his wallet and handed over the card to the woman, who went away happy.

Luke pushed his hand through his hair, watching the pair of men painting the inside of the kitchen cabinets through the connecting doorway.

Dozens of questions were pushing at her. There was so much unanswered here. It occurred to her that she didn’t know Luke at all. The last place in the world she would have expected to find him was here at a Habitat project. And
running
it? It didn’t make sense. It didn’t add up. Which meant she didn’t know all the facts.

The woman came back three minutes later and held out the card, a pen and the same sheet of paper. “If you’ll just sign?”

Luke scribbled his signature and put away the credit card.

“Oh, will you be here on Monday night as usual, or has this weekend thing changed the routine?” the woman asked. “No more hot dates?” She laughed, shooting a glance at Lindsay.

“I’ll be here,” Luke answered very quietly.

When she was gone, Lindsay waited him out. She’d learned from Luke himself how effective silence could be and she clenched her jaw and shut up.

He shot a glance at the front door, almost longingly. Then he shrugged and turned to her.

“Well, it’s a bit more than a helping hand,” he said.

“A
bit
more?” The understatement staggered her. “Luke, do you
ever
tell the truth? Is there a single person at the hotel who knows about…this?” She waved her hand around the room.

“What’s to tell?” he demanded. “It’s not like I’m out robbing banks in my spare time. It’s completely harmless. And none of anyone else’s business.”

She shook her head. “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong it’s not even funny.” She stepped close to him and lowered her voice. “A while ago you said I shouldn’t let you into my life. Remember?”

“Yes,” he growled.

“It’s too late, Luke. You’re already part of my life. It’s not a matter of choice. You’re there. You’re part of it.”

He was staring at her and his silence seemed almost stony and rebellious. She didn’t know if he was willingly listening or not. But she pushed on anyway.

“There’s something between us. I don’t know what it is. I lack the terminology to even begin to describe it. But it’s there. And you know it. Don’t you?”

She watched his eyes, the expressive eyes and saw a flicker there of something.

His gaze dropped.

She knew she was right.

“So the damage is done, Luke. I’m here. You have to deal with it. With me. Not telling people about yourself is not a way of dealing with it. It’s not a way of avoiding dealing with it, either. It’s just another form of lying and it’s…insulting.”

“I didn’t lie,” Luke shot back and she could tell she’d touched a chord in him.

“You lied by omission,” she said flatly.

“I warned you, didn’t I? What you were getting into. I warned you.”

“Too late.”

He crossed his arms, the thick forearms rippling. “And while court is in session, let’s not forget you, either, my little hypocrite. You’ve not been totally forthcoming yourself, have you?”

The accusation of hypocrisy stung more than she cared to admit. “I’m not hiding the other half of my life from you. The other two-thirds, actually. Just what
do
you do in New York every weekend, anyway?”

“Tell me why you want to follow your mother’s footsteps, first.”

She ignored the gambit. She didn’t want to get sidetracked right now. “Look, I’m not very good with people. I know that. It’s just…something I don’t have a lot of natural talent for—not like you. But I’m a very fast learner. I only have to be shown once and I’ve got it. And I know you’re shutting me out, Luke. First time, I didn’t get it. This time, I did. I don’t know why but I do know that much. And it’s not just the rest of the world, although you do it with them too. It’s me, especially.”

“Tell me about your mother,” he insisted. “Share and share alike.”

“I don’t even
know
you. How on earth can I share something like that with you?”

“Ditto, Lynds.” His voice was bitter and low.

She pulled on her coat and gloves with quick, jerky movements. Her heart was pattering unhappily and she felt sad and teary. All the fury had drained. She wasn’t even irritated any more. She was just tired.

“All I know,” she said, hating the way her voice wobbled, “is that I’m not the one running away all the time.” She reached up to kiss his cheek. “And it was fun, for a while.”

She didn’t have the courage to look back when she left.

Chapter Ten

He wasn’t even sure what drove him there.

But at seven-thirty that Monday morning he found himself in the familiar corridor, hovering outside Lindsay’s office. He knew she was in. She was
always
in at this time.

Now he was actually here, he was back at the other end of the pendulum swing—wishing he was miles away. Anywhere but here.

So he put his hand on the door handle and pushed the door open and himself through. Quickly. Before he backed out.

Lindsay looked up from her paperwork and her eyes opened wide. The paper in her hand fluttered to the desk. And he wasn’t certain—he could even have imagined it—but he thought he saw her chest lift in a quick indrawn breath and was it pleasure in her eyes?

Fool. Get it over with.

He held out his hand to forestall her—she was always so quick to slide under his defenses and score a preemptive strike.

“The thing is,” he said, not even trying to organize his thoughts, “They’ve always used my credit card. Pretty much since I got into town. I don’t just help out Habitat for Humanity, Lynds, I’ve been running the show for the last year. Well, the Deerfoot Falls side of it, anyway. I wanted to get that house finished before Christmas, so I organized a full weekend on it. That’s why I went to New York early. To clear the weekend.”

He took a deep breath.

“Why?” she asked. “That’s what doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s homes,” he said simply. “Homes for families.”

She frowned.

“I know,” he told her. “You don’t get it. That’s because you’ve got a built-in family. You’ve never been without one.”

Her eyes widened and her mouth opened a little.

He could feel the fear gnawing at him already. “I’ve never told anyone this before,” he added.

“Why not?” It was a softly put question. Was she learning to empathize?

He shrugged. The flippant answer came easily—much more easily. But he pushed it aside and went for the much more difficult truth. “Afraid, I guess.”

“Afraid of what?”

It was a concept he’d never really pulled together even for himself, so he took a moment to reach for the answer. The
resistance
to speaking it aloud was enormous. “People might get to know me.” He had to take a deep breath to recover.

“I know a little about that one,” Lindsay told him. She put her pen down and leaned back. “What about New York?”

He took another breath. “You know, I’m not very good at this. Actually, I suck at it. I haven’t done a lot of talking about myself.”

“You talk about yourself all the time. I’ve listened.”

“Not like this.” He could feel his heart slowing down now that the worst of it was done. “So, if you don’t mind, I’d like to leave New York for next time.”

“There will be a next time?”

His heart gave a little jump. “There won’t be?” he asked. “I mean…will there be?”

It seemed like eons passed before her gorgeous lips curved up into a small, sweet smile. “If there’s going to be a next time, I can wait until then to hear about New York.”

His relief was huge and that told him he’d done the right thing, coming here. Despite the clammy hands and the agonizing it had taken to get himself here.

He tried a smile himself. And suddenly realized he didn’t know what to say.

She cleared her throat and burrowed her hand under the pile of paperwork on her desk and emerged with a fistful of paper.

“Well, as you’re here so early, perhaps you could put the time to good use and finish these contact lists. You’re supposed to be handling this stuff, aren’t you?”

Back to business. It was another small relief. Had she sensed that and turned the subject deliberately? Such sensitivity was a bit much to expect from Lindsay, but he’d managed to change his spots this morning. Why couldn’t she?

“That’d be me,” he told her.

“Then take it and leave me in peace, huh? You know I get in early to avoid interruptions.”