His Sister's Wedding (5 page)

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Authors: Carol Rose

BOOK: His Sister's Wedding
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"Yep. This place will do." Satisfaction laced his voice.

He actually seemed excited. Lillie almost hated to burst his bubble, but reality forced
her to overcome her scruples in this area. "You've got to be kidding."

"What's the matter?" Luke demanded. "Don't you like it?"

Lillie's gaze wandered over the misty garden with its pockets of flowers and the weathered
stone house situated in the middle like an unpolished jewel in a green setting. It
was a lovely place. A place to get lost in, a hideaway for lovers, a treasure-laden
jungle for children.

But not a place for a wedding. It would be insanity. Almost as insane as her sudden
desire to agree with his plan, just because he had taken this step to be involved
in the wedding.

Could it be that Luke had latent romantic tendencies? Down-deep did he have the capacity
to lose himself in love?

"I think the place is great," Lillie responded, pushing back a wayward wisp of hair
along with the thoughts of Luke as a tender lover. "But we're talking about an event
for a hundred people. What about parking, dressing rooms for the wedding party? A
kitchen for the caterers?" She shook her head. "It just wouldn't work."

"Yes, it will," Luke insisted. "The house is in better shape than it looks. There's
a field beyond that hedge that we can have mowed for parking. Think about it, Lillie.
It'll be nice." He reached out, catching her arm gently to turn her around.

Lillie felt the jolt all the way through her body. His hand felt both strong and warm
against her bare hand. "Yeah, and we'll have cars sunk in up to their hubcaps," she
muttered, trying to ignore the sensations his touch evoked as she followed him through
a hedge in the garden.

"You're just upset because it's not one of your usual wedding chapels," he challenged
as he came to a stop on a wide vista that sloped down to the river.

"That's not true," she denied, shoving back another strand of hair from her face.
"Just look at this place!" Lillie picked up a tendril of climbing rose that snared
her skirt. "It's great for a scene out of that children’s book,
The Secret Garden
, but not very workable for six bridesmaids in heels and organdy."

Luke looked at the offending rose bush sprawling over the ground in a haze of green.
"Don't worry. Landscape is my business. I'll have this place in tiptop shape by December,
just in case this cursed wedding takes place."

"Are you sure you're not trying to sabotage the wedding by picking this place?" The
question tumbled out of her.

He shot her an exasperated look. "I do have some feelings for my sister. If I get
really desperate, I'll just kidnap her."

"That's comforting." Lillie scanned the garden. "Where, exactly, would you seat a
hundred people? Have you ever tried to seat people in rental chairs on a soggy riverside?
They'll be sinking in during the ceremony. By the time the couple says, 'I do', the
guests will look like they're sitting cross-legged on bleacher seats."

"You're exaggerating." He cracked a smile at the image, but seemed to dismiss the
reality of it. "I'll take care of the grounds and I have the place picked out for
the ceremony."

"Melanie has no idea the monster she's created," Lillie moaned as he led her toward
the river, its surface a dark green.

Two giant willow trees towered fifteen feet from the river bank, their limbs draping
gracefully to create a natural canopy that shifted and moved with the rising wind.

"Right here." Luke pointed to a spot between the trees, framed against the backdrop
of stone steps that descended to the flowing waterway.

"Has anyone mentioned how stubborn you are?" Lillie asked, pulling a heel out of the
mushy grass. She was beginning to feel worn down by his determined view, and insidiously
enchanted by her surroundings. The place even smelled wonderful, a mixture of flowers
and cloud-laden air.

"Yes." He strode up the gentle slope away from the trees. "Now over here, we'll seat
the audience--"

"They're not an 'audience'," Lillie corrected, drawing on irritation to buffer the
effect he had on her. "They're guests. And you can't expect them to drive all the
way out here, park their cars in a soggy meadow, climb over hedges and rose bushes
just to sit in chairs that'll sink eighteen inches into the ground."

"I thought optimism was your specialty, Pollyanna," Luke teased as a sudden gust of
wind swirled around them.

Out of the blue, a loud clap of thunder shook the meadow. Both Luke and Lillie looked
up at the sky only to have their faces washed by a startling curtain of rain. Lillie
heard herself gasp as she instinctively dove for the closest cover, a spindly tree
halfway up the meadow from the river.

She leaned back against the small trunk, trying to huddle under the thickest part
of the sapling. Behind her, his back braced against the other side of the tree trunk,
Luke started to laugh.

"I'm glad you find this so amusing--" she started, her words cut off by a spray of
rain over her face as the sapling's limited leaf cover gave way. Thunder rolled overhead
again, louder than before.

Lillie felt his hand on her arm, urging her around. To her dismay, he pulled her into
his arms, sheltering her face against his shoulder. The smell of rain mingled with
the scent of Luke, the heat and texture of him swirled all around her. She drew in
a shuddering breath, her body on full sensual alert.

His hand trailed a warm path down her back, pausing to rest at her waist. The contrast
between his touch and the chill of the rain made her shiver.

Huddled between Luke and the increasing rain, Lillie wrestled with the urge to lift
her face to his, to feel his lips on hers.

Above them, thunder sounded again as a crack of lightning split the atmosphere.

"Come on," Luke ordered abruptly as he grabbed her by the wrist. "We've got to get
to some shelter."

Before Lillie knew it, he dragged her around hedges and over small shrubs. A stone
surface loomed in front of her briefly as she felt herself being lifted and tossed
on to the covered porch of the abandoned house.

She slumped there, leaning against the solid building like a rag doll, shivering and
gasping for air, her hair once more in a tangle on her shoulders. A twig of something
green was tucked in her left shoe.

"This must be some sort of karma," she declared in a disgusted voice. "It's too much
of a coincidence. You coming into my life to torment me, and occasionally subjecting
me to drenching rainstorms."

"Wait a sec," he said, brushing back his damp hair. "I didn't get you into the first
one. You did that yourself, and I just happened to come along and rescue you."

"And you'll never let me forget it," she muttered.

"No," Luke agreed, leaning his head against the house, his gaze brushing her face.
"And, other than rainstorms, just exactly how do I torment you?"

"I've never seen rain hit so fast," she commented, ignoring his question.

"Maybe I torment you the same way you get to me," he said softly, as if she hadn't
spoken. "Do I make you feel restless? Stir up fantasies that make you ache? That's
what you do to me."

Lillie felt his smoldering gaze like a touch, making her suddenly aware of how damply
her silky shirt clung, the thin polyester plastered against her body like a jealous
lover. She felt her nipples bead up against the chill of the rain and the husky tone
in his voice.

Her arms rose in automatic defense, crossing over her chest as she leaned on her raised
knees. The scent of damp earth filtered up to where they sat, the fresh smell of rain
mingled with the texture of growing things.

"We have voltage running between us," Luke murmured. "A hot current that just hums.
You can't ignore it."

"Yes, I can," Lillie said, her voice unsteady.

The rain covered everything around them, splashing off the waxy leaves of magnolia
trees and beading up on the silken petal of a rose nearly sheltered by the porch overhang.
They were curtained off, perched on an island of wood and stone, and surrounded by
the voluptuous sounds of nature's renewal.

The tension that lay between them, the smell of temptation, thick and sweet, seemed
to rise and thicken.

She heard the slow drumbeat of her own heart, heard Luke's breathing, soft and rhythmic
beside her. Lillie drew in her breath and tried to dispel the illusion of intimacy,
tried to forget the feel of his embrace and arm herself against the warm sound of
his voice brushing her ear.

Around them the rain drummed steadily, filling the air with a damp softness. Swallowing,
she stared unseeing at the rain.

"Lillie...." His voice was low and husky beside her.

She turned, pulled by a force she couldn't understand. He was so near, so provocative
and tempting. Her gaze met his and locked there, common sense deserting her as she
leaned toward him, drawn by the urgency in his eyes.

Just one kiss. Just to cure herself of her attraction to him. One kiss to dispel the
illusion of magic when she looked into his jaded eyes.

CHAPTER THREE

"Lillie," he whispered again, bending to kiss her.

She felt the thud of his heartbeat, his closeness surrounding her like the dark of
night. His mouth fit against hers, warm and seeking, not the touch of a stranger,
but something almost familiar...yet like no other kiss she'd known.

Luke pulled her into his arms, fitting her body against his until she lay in the crook
of his arm, her face tilted for his caress. A shiver ran through her, a shimmer of
sensation that skated over the surface of her skin before pooling into a warm glow
in her midsection.

Without knowing why, she parted her lips and curled an arm around his neck. It was
a mistake. She knew it the second she felt his shudder.

He entered her mouth slowly, tasting and savoring, brushing his mouth against hers
in an agonizing torment of intensity. Lillie met his every move like a choreographed
dance, falling freely into the teasing, drugging influence of his kiss.

It took the slow stroke of his hand on her arm to break the spell. In one instant,
she absorbed the pleasure of his bare hand on her skin and a hundred lusty possibilities
burst into her mind, all heated and hungry.

She pulled back, tearing her mouth from his as she gasped for air.

"I can't," Lillie muttered.

He groaned. "If that kiss is any sign, you surely can."

Luke's arms tightened around her.

"Stop." She braced her hands against his hard chest. "You're very...attractive," she
hoped he couldn't feel the fluttering beating of her heart, "but I'm not interested
in just scratching an itch."

Slowly he released her, his face enigmatic. "Sweetheart, the word
itch
doesn't begin to do this justice."

"Maybe not," Lillie tried to straighten her tumbled hair, "but I'm still not interested."

A sensual smile spread across his face. "At the risk of being ungentlemanly, I have
to point out that we've proved you're very interested."

Lillie felt the boil of anger running up under her skin. "Why don't we just drop it,"
she snapped. "I'm not having a fling with you."

"First it's an itch, now a fling?"

"Well, what exactly would you call it?" she demanded, feeling flustered.

Luke ran a finger down her arm, the caress sending screaming signals through every
nerve. "I'd say we're embarking on a mutually pleasurable relationship."

"Relationship?" The word bounded out of her mouth. "I was under the impression you
didn't use the 'R' word."

He leaned back against the wall. "Wrong. I'm against Melanie getting married--"

"You said you didn't believe in
true love,"
Lillie accused.

"--I also think that sexual attraction and compatible lifestyles are better foundations
for marriage and family than something as unreliable as romantic love."

"Unreliable?" she said incredulously.

His smile took on a darker twist. "People fall into and
out
of it with equal frequency. Seems like a pretty foolish way to conduct a relationship."

"I see." Lillie stared into the wet garden, the rain still drumming down in sheets.
She struggled with the feeling that she'd just been given a significant piece to the
puzzle of Luke's locked up heart, but her senses were so jumbled, she couldn't make
use of it.

He was too disturbing, too close. Right now, she needed to put some distance between
them--sixty or seventy miles might be enough.

Was the rejection Luke suffered at the hands of his first love powerful enough to
destroy his trust in love forever? It hardly seemed possible, although Lillie knew
how susceptible a young man could be to the depths of a heart-wrenching loss. Wasn't
she trying to keep her brother from just such a catastrophe?

Even so, she had to resist the temptation Luke offered or lose her own sense of direction
in life. Knowing some of the reasons behind his dismissal of love left her paradoxically
wary and tender toward him.

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