your wine. What is it they say? Alcohol has charms to soothe the savage beast?’
‘I think that was music,’ said Abby, unable to deny a small smile. ‘But I must admit, this wine is really delicious.’
After such a contentious beginning, surprisingly the hours they stayed at the pub were some of the most enjoyable Abby had ever spent.
When he wasn’t being provocative or sarcastic, Luke was really good company. But she’d known that, she mused, remembering the first night she’d met him at the wine bar.
She could have loved him, she thought rather wistfully; would have divorced her abusive husband in a heartbeat, if her mother’s circumstances hadn’t been so grave.
Felix drove them back to Ashford-St-James soon after ten o’clock. Abby had confessed she had to be up by five a.m. the next morning, to get to the wholesalers to pick up supplies. And when she added that she had to prepare the scones and muffins, and set the coffee machine in operation before she opened the café at seven-thirty, Luke understood her desire not to be out too late.
However, when they got back to her apartment, she felt obliged to invite him in for coffee. They hadn’t waited to have coffee at the restaurant, and she knew it was the least she could do after such a delicious meal.
‘Felix, too, if you like,’ she added, half hoping the chauffeur would join them.
But Felix demurred, saying he was going for a late supper at a fast-food establishment. And Luke said he would ring him again when he was ready to leave.
Abby was glad of Harley to provide a distraction when they got into the apartment. The retriever was eager to greet their visitor, and he threaded his way around Luke’s legs, uttering little woofs of pleasure.
Meanwhile, Abby went into the kitchen and set the water running through the filter. It would have been easier to make instant, but it didn’t smell half so nice.
Only belatedly did she become aware that Luke had come into the kitchen, too, and was now standing, hips propped against one of the units. He’d loosened his tie and unfastened the top button on his shirt; his forearms, lightly spread with dark hair, bare below rolled-back cuffs.
When had he removed his jacket? she wondered. Did he feel he had the right to be here? And why, when he was fully dressed in his navy suit trousers and that very attractive bronze silk shirt, was she picturing him without any clothes at all?
Because he was so damn sexy, she thought, dragging her eyes away and concentrating on the coffee. She’d managed to ignore—or at least, control —her instinctive attraction to him all evening. Was it too much to ask that she do it just a little while longer?
However, here, alone in her apartment—apart from Harley, of course—her whole body felt hot and sensually alive.
And overwhelmingly aware of her own physical needs, however unwelcome those needs might be.
And because of that, her voice was a little sharp when she said, ‘Why don’t you go and sit down?’ She paused and then added shortly, ‘You’re making me nervous.’
Luke arched a dark brow. ‘Am I?’
‘You know you are,’ she said tightly. ‘Do you get some pleasure out of annoying people?’
Luke stared at her now. ‘Did I miss something here? What did I do to deserve that?’
Abby’s lips tightened. ‘Nothing,’ she said, realising how unreasonable she was being. ‘You did nothing. I suppose I’m tired, that’s all. It’s been a long day.’
‘And you want me to leave, is that it?’
Leave? No!
She looked up from setting out the cups, and met his dark gaze. And knew she was treading on dangerous ground.
‘You—you must do what you think best,’ she said, not sure where this was leading. ‘Stay or go, it’s all the same to me.’
CHAPTER NINE
I T WASN ’ T , OF COURSE , and when Luke spoke again, she realised her mistake.
‘What if I said I wanted to go to bed with you?’ he asked casually, straightening away from the unit.
Richard Paul Evans
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Rose Burghley
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William T. Finkelbean