Blood drained from her cheeks. There, as cozy as the candles glowing on the warm maple mantel, sat Luke McGee – in her house, playing chess with her father. Sweet angels in heaven, what’s he doing here? She stared in shock, remembering their kiss in his office yesterday, and the blood rushed right back, warmer this time and clear up to the roots of her hair.
He rose to his feet – all strapping six foot three of him – further unsettling her with a half-mast look that traveled from the top of her disheveled hair down to the short hem of her dress that was obviously askew. His eyes roamed up again to fix on her face with a knowing gaze. He gave her a thin smile. “Hello, Katydid. Did you have a good time?”
If possible, more heat flooded her cheeks, and her chin angled high, incensed at both his implication and the fact he had invaded her territory. This was her home, and Jack was her fiancé – she had no reason to be embarrassed by the likes of Luke McGee and his condescending notions. And he had no reason to be here, piercing her with that smug look that always made her feel so guilty. She gave him a tight smile. “Hello, Luke, what are you doing here?”
One blond brow jagged up. “Gabe,” he said in a clipped tone, his smile looking as if it might crack. “I suppose with all the excitement of seeing Jack again, it must have slipped your mind that I was coming by.”
Gabe! The paperwork, of course. Her breath thickened in her throat. She’d just assumed Luke had come by this afternoon while she’d been out shopping with her friends. Embarrassment bloodied her cheeks once again, further singeing her temper.
“You look flushed, Katie, are you feeling all right?” Marcy put her knitting needles aside and rose, bustling over to her daughter with motherly concern.
Katie absently wiped moist palms down the side of her skirt before adjusting it further. “Yes, of course,” she said with a quick kiss to her mother’s cheek. She drew in a fortifying breath and gave her father a bright smile. “Hello, Father. I hope you’ve managed to impart some humility to our Mr. McGee here. I’m told when it comes to games, he tends to be a bit smug.”
“I’m afraid that’s a lesson for another day, Katie Rose. This young man has served up a generous piece of humble pie, and I don’t mind saying it wasn’t to my taste.” He rose and extended his hand. “Thank you for making my wife a very happy woman, Luke,” he said with a dry smile. “Although I can’t say the same for me, at least when it comes to chess. We’re looking forward to welcoming Gabe to our family on Monday, but if you don’t mind, I think I’ll just go up to bed and nurse my wounds.”
Luke laughed, and shook his hand. “I think the prospect of another mouth to feed may have you a little distracted tonight, Mr. O’Connor. And as far as my skills at chess, the man you really want to play is my director at the BCAS, Parker Riley. He was our resident champion in law school, so trust me, I’ve had lots of practice.”
A hint of challenge sparkled in Patrick’s tired eyes as he headed for the door and draped an arm around Marcy’s shoulders. “Good, then we’ll have you both over for dinner soon so I can salvage my pride. Thanks again, Luke.” He leaned to buss his daughter’s forehead. “Good night, Katie Rose. Will you turn out the lights and lock the doors?”
Marcy paused to touch the side of Katie’s face. “Did you have a good time with Jack tonight, darling?”
With a hike of her chin, Katie avoided Luke’s eyes and focused on her mother. “Wonderful, Mother. I didn’t know how badly I missed him until I opened that door tonight.”
“Good,” Marcy said. “And if he keeps getting you home on time, I made your father promise to extend your curfew, so be sure to tell him that.”
Katie leaned to kiss her mother’s cheek, then her father’s. “I will. Sleep well, you two.”
Her parents ascended the stairs, and Katie turned her attention to Luke with arms folded and clutched to her waist. She gave him a nervous smile, her stomach as skittery as if she’d missed curfew. “So, it’s all settled then? Gabe’s coming home on Monday?”
He unrolled his shirtsleeves and buttoned the cuffs, then reached for his briefcase on the sofa. “Yep, it’s a done deal. Gabe is one lucky little girl, thanks to you. I told her this afternoon, and I haven’t seen her this excited since I bought her buttered popcorn and three grape Nehis at the Regal last year.” He moved toward the foyer, then turned to face her just inside the parlor. His eyes softened. “I don’t know how to thank you, Katie. You saved her life – and mine.”
She blushed and hurried to douse the various lamps in the room, almost out of breath as she rejoined him in the foyer. “She’s saving mine too, you know. With Gabe in the house, Father’s attention will be diverted away from me.” She smiled and rubbed her arms, her hands sweaty against the clingy material of her thin sleeves. “Who knows? I may actually be the good daughter for once.”
With a slow lift of his hand, he feathered a finger down the side of her jaw. “You are the good daughter,” he whispered, “just a bit headstrong.”
Her pulse accelerated, and she took a step back. “Can I . . . get you anything before you go? A drink of cider, water . . .” Her eyes scanned the hall, suddenly lighting on the box of candy. She rushed to uncover the lid of the heart-shaped box. “A chocolate with cream center?”
His eyes narrowed at the heart box flanked by an obscene spray of red roses. A thin veneer coated his tone. “I guess ol’ Jack was pretty glad to see you. No, I doubt he’d want his confections wasted on a soda jerk. But a cold drink of water would sure hit the spot.”
“No problem,” she said, hurrying toward the kitchen with a wave of her hand. “You wait here, and I’ll be right back.” She bludgeoned through the swinging door as if she were running for her life. And in a way, she felt as if she were. The man in the next room made her downright uncomfortable, especially with Jack’s diamond ring burning a hole in her pocket. She slumped against the counter and pressed a hand to her eyes.
All she wanted to do was to get through her last week at the BCAS and stay as far away from Luke McGee as humanly possible. She couldn’t trust herself around him – that much was clear. Every kiss the man had given her had certainly proven that, and although he could melt her resolve with the touch of his lips, she refused to allow him to destroy her dream. She flipped open the cabinet door and jerked out a glass, holding it beneath the tap with a shaky hand. Nothing was going to stop her now. She would be Mrs. Katie Worthington, one of the finest legal minds in the city. And with Jack’s money and political connections, she’d be well on her way to a seat in the Congress someday, hopefully to make a difference on behalf of women everywhere. Her lips thinned into a grim line. And no heated kisses were going to stand in her way.
The kitchen door creaked open and she whirled around, causing water from the glass to slosh onto the floor.
He folded his arms and slacked a hip against the door while that annoying smile curved to the edges of his mouth. “A little twitchy, are we?”
She grappled for the dishrag and suddenly laughed, the motion helping to dispel her anxiety somewhat. Glass in one hand, she stooped to wipe up the water with the other, managing to give him a crooked smile. “No more than usual when you’re around, Cluny McGee.” She stood to her feet and tossed the rag in the sink. “Do you want ice?”
His approach was achingly slow as he strolled toward her. With a casual air, he took the glass from her hand and set it on the counter while his warm gaze welded to hers. He moved in close, wedging her against the sink by just the mere threat of his presence. She swallowed hard and craned her neck up, wishing her voice hadn’t fused to her throat.
Massive palms slowly grazed the side of her arms, as if he thought she might be chilled, but the heat they generated made her feel anything but. In fluid motion, they moved to her waist, the gentle caress of his thumbs all but stealing her air. His blue eyes deepened in intensity as he leaned in, and his husky voice made her mouth go dry. “Let’s face it, Katie Rose,” he whispered, “I don’t want ice, I don’t want water
, and I definitely don’t want chocolate.”
She caught her breath when his words melted warm in her ear.
“I want you . . .”
And before the air could return to her lungs, his mouth dominated hers with such gentle force, it coaxed a breathless moan from her lips, heating the blood in her veins by several degrees. “Say it, Katie Rose . . . say that you want me as much as I want you.”
She could barely speak for the racing of her pulse, and her breathing was as rapid as his. Powerful arms refused to relent, drawing her close as his lips trailed her throat with an urgency that made her dizzy. “Say it,” he whispered again, “tell me you care for me too.”
“Luke, I – I . . . I do,” she breathed, too disarmed to deny it.
His mouth took hers like a man possessed, deepening the kiss until she was putty in his hands. And then all at once, he pulled away to cup her face with his palms, his eyes so full of love, it took her breath away. “That’s all I needed to know, Katie. And I promise from now on, I’ll be taking it slow. I don’t want to rush this.”
She blinked, her pulse thudding to a stop. “Rush what?”
He bent to give her a warm, unhurried kiss. “Us,” he whispered against her mouth. “I’m in love with you, Katie Rose.”
She pushed him away, the shock of his words breaking his spell. “Luke, no, you can’t!”
Two puckers crimped the bridge of his nose as he fanned a gentle hand through her hair. “It’s too late, Katie, I already am. And I thought you had feelings for me too.”
The edge of the counter bit into her back as she tried to distance herself with a hand to his chest. Her voice was a pained whisper. “I do have feelings for you, Luke, but I’m . . . afraid only as a friend and nothing more.” She looked away, unable to bear the hurt in his eyes. “I’m sorry if these . . . encounters . . . led you to believe there could be anything between us, but as you said, it’s too late.” She swallowed and forged on, fumbling for the ring in her pocket. She avoided his eyes while she put it on. “You see, Jack asked me to marry him tonight, and, well . . . I said yes.”
Silence pounded in her ears as she waited, and when seconds passed, she finally looked up to gauge his response. And in one halting breath, she was face-to-face with Cluny McGee once again. Years melted away as she stared at the little boy with the swaggering confidence that never quite masked the hurt in his eyes. Even now, the wide lips curled into that cocky air that told her she didn’t matter, that he didn’t care what she thought of him. Only she knew better. For some reason she could never ascertain, she had always mattered to Cluny McGee, and somehow the knowledge had always strengthened her. She watched him now as his hurt hardened to anger, and the breath seized in her throat when he gripped her by the arms.
“A friend and nothing more, and yet you kiss me like that? You’re lying, Katie.”
“I’m attracted to you, Luke, it’s true, but nothing more, I swear.”
“So you’re in love with Jack, are you?” He jerked her close and kissed her hard, driving any thoughts of Jack completely from her mind. When he released her, she sagged against the counter, knees weak and chest heaving. His voice was as sharp and cold as the stainless steel edging that cut into her back. “Tell me, Katydid, does he know how readily you can fall into another man’s arms?”
Shame broiled her cheeks and anger rose to her defense. Her hand flew back to slap his face, but he locked her wrist midair with a painful hold. “Is that all this was between us then? A little fun while your rich boyfriend was off-limits?”
She wrenched her hand free. “I never started any of this, and you know it. It was you.”
His fingers dug into her arms as he pressed her to the counter. “No, but you sure finished it, didn’t you? Selling yourself to a man you don’t love just to satisfy a driving ambition that will never make you happy. Oh yeah, Betty told me – your jaded dreams to marry Jack and his money, use his family to rise to the top.” He leaned in, his breath hot against her face. “So ol’ Jack is everything on your all-important checklist, is he? And that’s what you want? A rich-boy pantywaist who will kiss your feet and do whatever you say? Well, bully for him. But he isn’t the one who races your pulse, is he, Katie?” The pressure of his fingers increased and he pulled her close, making her wince. “My kisses are good enough, but my life isn’t, is that it?”
“Let go, you’re hurting me!”
His abrupt release jolted her against the counter as surely as if he had shoved her away. “No, Katie,” he whispered through clenched teeth, “you’re hurting yourself, and I guarantee it’s a pain that will last a lot longer than a few seconds.” He looked away, his anger evident in the heave of his chest and the clench of his jaw, and then with a sharp hiss of a curse, he turned and strode to the door.
“Luke!” Her heart lurched forward.
He paused, hand on the door and his back as rigid as the wood beneath his palm.
“Please believe me, I never meant to lead you on. I’ve planned to marry Jack all along, and you knew that.”
He glanced over his shoulder, muscled arm poised against the door. His voice was cold. “Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t want to interfere with your plan.” He spat the word as if it were an obscenity, then slammed his fist against the door and spun around. “You know, Katie, you’ve always been a cold and callous little thing, but I actually believed it was just a front. You know, a thin coat of steel to protect your fragile little heart? But I was wrong. Seems that steel is as thick as that stubborn head of yours when it comes to making life decisions. Despite the heat and fire in every kiss we’ve shared, you’re a cold, cold woman, Katie O’Connor. The kind that chooses a marriage as cooly as you choose a bank to store your money. Your ‘plan’ is your god, and God help anybody who gets in your way.” He turned to go.
Nausea curdled in the pit of her stomach. “Luke, forgive me, please. I’m sorry . . .”
He halted halfway through the door. She watched as he drew in a deep breath and suddenly that broad back straightened, tall and strong like the man he’d become. And when he finally spoke, the anger seemed tempered somewhat and laced with regret. “I know, Katie,” he said, head cocked to reveal a profile resigned to a fate he didn’t choose. “You’re sorry, and so am I. But I’ll get over it, don’t worry about me. But you?” A hoarse laugh spewed from his throat, devoid of all humor. “I hope I’m wrong, truly I do. But something deep inside tells me your ‘sorry’ has only just begun. My best to you and Jack.”
And with a cool swish of air, he was gone, leaving her with nothing but an eerie creak as the door groaned on its hinges . . . and a cold prickle of fear that he may just be right.
Luke stormed down Donovan Street in a vile mood, profanity poisoning his tongue with a foulness he hadn’t tasted in a long, long time. It should have been the perfect evening – moist and warm with the hint of a cool breeze, fragrant with the scent of fresh-mown grass and the promise of rain. But cozy three-decker homes, bathed in the haze of the full moon overhead, seemed to mock him instead, lamplight twinkling and taunting from lace-curtained windows.
A stray cardboard box from a neighbor’s trash heap littered the sidewalk, and he bludgeoned it with his foot, thinking he should be kicking himself instead. Somewhere he heard the haunting strains of jazz, filtering from one of several open windows along the cobblestone street, each spilling light onto perfectly manicured lawns. Through fluttering sheers he saw families in silhouette – a mother rocking a child, a husband kissing a wife – and his anger flared at the painful reminder that he was once again on the outside looking in. A street orphan with no home of his own – shut out because he wasn’t good enough. The bastard of a whore who lived his life in the streets, just like the trash put out at the curb. He shoved his hands in his pockets and muttered a curse, the harsh sound lingering in the thick, humid air as it defiled both his thoughts and the still of the steamy summer night.
She’d done it again – made a fool of him – someth
ing that came as naturally to Katie O’Connor as breathing. Sweat beaded the back of his neck – half from the heat of the late-August evening, half from the fear of how he would cope – cope with being in love with a woman who would never love him back, never want him. Correction: she wanted him, but only his body and not his soul. Irony curled his lips as he kicked a rock from his path. At one time, that would have been the perfect scenario – a woman who wanted him with no strings attached. But not now. Not with her.
“She’s no good for you, you know. I’ve never seen a woman affect you like this one, Luke. Too much power from your past, too much for you to prove.”
He sucked in a harsh breath and slashed shaky fingers through his hair, knowing full well that Parker had been right. Katie was no good for him. As children, they had battled for power, but in his need for her approval, she had always won. Sure and strong and driven, she was a little girl and now a woman who knew exactly what she wanted. And with a stab of pain in his chest, he realized it would never be him. Because the same drive and determination that drew him to her – caused him to love her – now drove her away from ever returning that love. He put a hand to his eyes, the truth as stark and glaring as the buzzing streetlight overhead. Attraction or no, he would never be more to Katie O’Connor than merely a friend who could race her pulse.
Like Betty was to me.
Air seized in his throat as his heart thudded to a stop. Betty!
He started to sprint toward Robinson’s, shame thick in his throat and his heart pumping faster than his legs. Dear God, how could he have forgotten? He lifted his arm to glance at his watch and then groaned, upping his pace when he saw he was thirty minutes late. The one night he was supposed to walk her home, and he’d let her down. His chest heaved with regret as he skidded around the corner, huffing to a stop when he saw lights in the diner window. He sucked in a deep breath and leaned over, hands on his knees. Thank you, God – she’s still here.