She handed him the bottle. His fingers brushed hers and a ripple of sensation ran up her arm. ‘It’s, um, a nice evening, let’s sit on the chairs out the back.’
‘Sure.’ He held the door open and ushered her out.
As she settled into the wicker chair, she suddenly realised how romantic the setting was with the rapidly dimming pink wash of sunset. The golden glow from the kitchen light behind them did nothing to dispel the illusion of cosy intimacy. The glare of a harsh fluorescent tube would have helped-but to get that, she’d have to get up and walk past the source of her angst to the switch.
Luke twisted the top off his bottle as he subsided into the chair beside her.
‘Cheers.’ He leaned forward. There was a small musical clink as he lightly tapped his bottle to hers.
‘Yes, cheers.’ She watched as he lifted the bottle to his mouth, his lips settling on the rim. Looking away hastily, she took a swig from her own bottle. The liquid fizzed in her throat as she searched for something to talk about.
Something other than the thing that suddenly filled her mind.
His mouth, his lips.
His kiss.
Seconds crawled by as she sat in tongue-tied discomfort, her mind utterly stuck on the interlude in the garage. She glanced sideways at him, only to find him watching her intently, his face thoughtful.
She could almost see him gathering words for a discussion she didn’t want to have. Not the kiss. She really
‘Terri-’
She had to forestall him. ‘Do you think you’ll ever get back on a motorbike?’
As soon as the words left her lips, she felt ill.
He grimaced. ‘I’m not quite ready for that yet.’
‘Oh, God. Luke.’ Her voice shook with her distress. ‘I’m so sorry. I don’t know where that came from.’
‘Don’t worry.’ He lifted one shoulder. ‘The thought did cross my mind at the track. That was before I saw you, of course. Then all I could think of was talking some sense into you.’ He gave her a lopsided smile. ‘And look what a good job I did of that.’
She wet her lips. Oh, dear. He was back to the kiss, she knew it. Talking about it meant acknowledging it out loud, holding it up to the light for examination, making it even more compelling. She wanted it to fade away. As it would surely do given enough time and
When she didn’t say anything, he said, ‘Refusing to discuss it isn’t going to make it go away, Terri.’
She raised her eyebrow and sent him a sidelong look. ‘How can you be sure?’
He laughed softly. ‘I know some of how you’re feeling. It’s a shock, isn’t it?’
‘A shock. Yes, that’s one way of putting it,’ she said with a sigh of resignation.
‘It’s two and a half years since I lost Sue-Ellen. I loved my wife. You’re the first woman I’ve kissed since my wife died, and you knocked me sideways. I never expected to feel this way again. Ever.’
Terri contemplated the bottle she held loosely in her hand. Luke and Sue-Ellen had obviously had a very happy, loving relationship. Terri was surprised by the shaft of grief she felt. By the time the landmine explosion had killed Peter, she and her husband had had no marriage left to betray. Her stomach cramped at the memory. She was a fraud, letting Luke assume she was in the same predicament as he was.
He was right about one thing, though. Her equilibrium hadn’t been this upset by a kiss since she’d been…
‘What I really want to do is kiss you again,’ he said. ‘Soon. I would do it right now, in a heartbeat, if I thought you would let me. But I’m guessing that’s not going to happen…is it?’
‘No. Oh.’ Her pulse bumped hard.
But it was what she wanted too-regardless of all her good sense telling her otherwise.
‘I figure I’ll give you a bit of time to get used to the idea.’
Her breath caught. ‘G-get used to the idea?’ she managed.
‘Before I do it again.’ His eyes tracked down to her mouth and lingered there for a moment.
‘I’m only human, Terri, and I’m attracted as hell to you. I’ve tried to ignore it but that isn’t working for me.’ He tilted his head, giving her a self-deprecating smile when she remained silent. ‘Am I mistaken in thinking you feel the same way?’
‘We can’t do anything about it. We mustn’t.’
‘Why not?’ He paused. ‘Do you feel like you’d be betraying Peter?’
Coldness gripped her at the sound of Luke speaking her late husband’s name.
‘That’s…’ Her throat closed and she had to force the words out. ‘It’s…not the same.’ She stood and held out her hand. ‘It’s getting late. Have you finished your drink?’
He frowned, staring up at her for a long moment before slowly handing over his empty bottle.
She knew she was handling it clumsily but for the life of her couldn’t think of a smoother way to signal that the evening was over. She walked past him, into the house. Hopefully, he would go now.
Bottles in hand, she walked to the sink and stopped.
‘Not the same…how?’ Luke’s voice was soft, persuasive.
She turned slowly to see him standing across the room, just inside the door. His expression was tender with sympathy she didn’t deserve.
How? Such a simple little question. But the answer had the power to rip her apart. Could she bear to see disgust in his eyes once he knew?
She was a foolish woman who’d stayed too long in a danger zone.
A sad, tragic creature who’d been too slow to accept her husband didn’t want her or the baby she carried.
Her folly had cost her everything. Her marriage, her husband.
And the biggest price of all, her baby.
Perhaps Luke had been right that evening in her lounge. Perhaps he did need to know the worst about her. As a colleague, as her boss, as a friend. Maybe most of all as the doctor to whom he’d entrusted his daughter’s well- being.
‘My marriage wasn’t like yours, Luke. We had…problems.’ How laughably feeble and mild that sounded.
Solemn blue eyes examined her face calmly. ‘Tell me. Whatever it is. I won’t think less of you.’
Her throat closed on the urge to be sick. She knew better. Her hands tightened on hard smoothness and she looked down, surprised to see she still held the bottles.
‘Peter was taking me to the airport when the explosion happened.’ Her larynx felt raw and tender. ‘I wanted to come home. He d-died because I wanted to come home.’
‘Oh, Terri.’
In two strides, he was there in front of her. She watched numbly as he removed the bottle from one hand then the other. With her hands empty, he gathered her into his arms. His body heat was startling.
‘You can’t think that way,’ he said. ‘You’ll destroy yourself.’
She wound her hands around his waist. With her ear pressed to his chest, she could hear the steady beat of his heart. After a long silence, she said, ‘We were arguing when the car hit a l-landmine.’
‘Poor sweetheart,’ he murmured. ‘And you feel bad because of that.’
She didn’t deserve his understanding. She had to make him see, push out the ugly facts until he turned from her as he should. ‘If he’d been p-paying more attention, he might have seen something to warn him, a flaw in the road surface. Or something.’
‘Hush.’ Luke hugged her tighter. ‘You know it’s pointless to think like that. He probably wouldn’t have seen anything. That’s why mines are such bloody awful weapons. You know that.’
His body curved over hers, holding her as though she was precious, reminding her of the way he’d been so protective with Allie. With his strong nurturing instinct, he was so unlike Peter.
Peter had loved mankind. He hadn’t had time to cater to the needs of a wife. His need to serve had been noble and laudable but so very hard to live with. She’d felt petty and selfish asking for more for herself. For needing more.
Being enveloped in Luke’s caring was glorious.
