Love, Lies and High Heels (24 page)

Flopping down on the bed, she blew out her breath. Twenty-eight years old and she didn’t have a clue how she was supposed to react to the man who’d relieved her of her senses the night before. And not just once, but several times.

Well, if she were honest, she’d tell him she felt deliriously happy this morning. And how would he respond to that? He’d probably look at her smugly, chuck her on the chin, and say, “Anytime, baby. Anytime.” No, Luke didn’t need his ego stroked.

She picked up Brownie and hugged him to her chest. Funny how she always seemed to be able to share her deepest thoughts with a stuffed animal. She’d never had any deep conversations with Natalie. She’d never had a sister or a brother or a best friend to confide in. Not even a beastly looking dog like Jack. Not that Jack could help the way he looked. Besides, he wasn’t so bad when he wasn’t sticking his nose in her privates. And he was company. Even if he couldn’t speak, he sure liked to listen when she talked, or at least he pretended to.

Maybe it was best to play it cool. Let Luke make the first move. Perhaps he’d smile and kiss her on the cheek and say something like, “Last night was the best night of my life. I think I’m falling in love with you.” Oh, God. Where had that come from? Luke wasn’t in love with her. He’d been lonely for a woman, that was all.

And what about you, Rusty? she asked herself. Had you simply been lonely for a man? No, it had been more than that. There was something about Luke that sent her senses whirling. He made her feel gloriously alive and more womanly than she’d ever felt. If she were being completely honest with herself, wasn’t she the one falling in love?

Panic gnawed away at her confidence. What if Luke had only been toying with her? She shuddered inwardly at the thought, then told herself it wasn’t true. He wasn’t cold or callus. “He wouldn’t have used me that way,” she said under her breath. She’d come to know him. Luke was decent, in spite of the way he tried to hide it. She’d seen him with the horses, and with Jeremy. And even with Sam. Oh, he acted as if Sam drove him crazy, but she’d seen his genuine affection for her father. Luke couldn’t hide his feelings that easily.

But there was that smug side to him. That slightly irritating part of his personality that she’d learned to tolerate. What if he did have feelings for her and he denied them? She sighed. Why on earth would he do that? At least if he lied and said he was interested, he’d get more of what he got last night.

She shook her head. She was so easy. All he had to do was look at her, and she’d follow him anywhere. When had she become so wanton? Since she’d met Luke, that’s when.

The last thought that occurred to her was what if he tried to apologize for last night? What if he said it had been a mistake? That he was sorry? She’d die if he said that, or maybe she’d laugh in his face and make him feel as low and disgusting as she would feel.

She had it bad, all right. A bad case of Luke Galloway.

And hiding in her room all day wasn’t going to make it go away. Besides, if she knew Luke, he’d be looking for her if she didn’t show her face soon. Better to get it over with.

With dazzling determination, she headed downstairs and breathed a sigh of relief when she realized Luke must still be at the stables.

She’d been hiding from him. Luke was sure of it. He’d been back to the house three times this morning, and there’d been no sign of her. He’d told himself she was simply worn out from the night before and needed to catch up on her rest, but now he realized he was making excuses for her.

She was embarrassed. He’d bet the farm on that.

He knew Rusty. She wasn’t the type of woman who’d sleep with a man just for thrills. Right about now, she was either condemning herself for making a mistake, or trying to figure out what was going on between them. Damned if he knew.

One minute he’d told himself to stay completely away from her. It would never work between them. And the next, he’d been deliriously in lust with her and unable to keep his hands and mouth to himself.

He drove around the back of the house, put the pick-up in Park, and headed for the door. If she was still upstairs, he was going after her.

But Rusty was in the kitchen when he went inside. She turned around to greet him. “Good morning. I made some fresh coffee if that’s what you’re looking for,” she said a little too cheerfully.

She met his eyes without hesitation. This isn’t what he’d expected. When she’d disappeared from his bed this morning, and when she hadn’t come downstairs until now, he’d been so sure she’d been avoiding him. But maybe he’d been wrong.

“Thanks,” he said, washing his hands and helping himself to a cup. Resting his hip against the counter, he stared at her across the room. “Sleep well?”

Blinking, she quickly recovered from his remark and said, “Yes, and you?”

So, she was going to pretend it hadn’t happened. “Not bad.” He pulled out a kitchen chair. “Sit down. I want to talk to you.”

She squared her shoulders and walked to the chair his hand rested on. Clasping her hands in front of her she sat, her back as straight as an arrow. He tried not to remember every curve on her naked body and every ticklish spot she had as he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her.

And he refused to remember every sigh and moan and groan she’d made. What good would that do now? He’d only want to lift her in his arms, haul her upstairs and have a repeat of last night.

He lifted the cup to his mouth and took a swig. Her green eyes watched his every move, as if she were trying to read him. Well, he was pretty certain she knew by now that he hadn’t used a condom that last time, but just in case she didn’t know he had to tell her. “Look, Rusty, I’m sorry about—”

“Is this is going to be one of those speeches about how you were just horny and I was available and …”

“No,” he said scowling at her. “I just wanted to say …”

She smiled brightly. “That you love me?” she finished for him.

His mouth dropped open. What the hell had gotten in to her?

Her smiled faded. “I didn’t think so. Luke, whatever you were about to say, please don’t. Let’s just leave it that we both had a good time, and—you did have a good time, didn’t you?” she asked cautiously.

Sneering, he asked, “What do you think?” Then he let her finish because he was too stunned to do anything else.

“Great!” She clapped her hands together. “But we both know it would never work out, so …” She got to her feet.

“Why not?” he asked a little too abruptly.

She laughed. “You can’t be serious.” Looking down at him, she smiled sweetly and said, “You’re not my type. And then there’s that whole money thing.” She shook her head sadly. “It’s a shame, too. Because you weren’t half bad in bed.” Then she fled from the room without a backward glance.

Luke slammed his fist on the table, sloshing coffee over the sides of his cup. He dropped his head into his hands. “Damn her!” She never gave him a chance to explain. And that comment she’d made about not being half bad in bed. He’d bet the farm he was the only man to make her climax in her twenty-eight years. “Half bad, my ass,” he grumbled. “The woman’s a barracuda.”

Looking up from the mess he’d made on the table, he saw Sam in the doorway, supported by his crutches. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.” Nothing you need to know, Luke added silently. “I’ve got work to do.” Then he bolted out the back door.

Upstairs, Rusty threw herself on her bed and let the tears flow. She’d never been so humiliated in all her life. In fact, since meeting Luke, her life had been nothing but one big humiliation. And she was tired of it. He’d reduced her to a trembling idiot.

She couldn’t bare to look at him now. It had taken every ounce of strength to pretend what had happened between them didn’t matter. And the things she’d said to him. That was a mean thing to do. She’d never intentionally hurt another person in her life. But what else could she have done?

He’d been about to apologize. He was probably going to tell her he’d made a serious mistake and that he had no intention of touching her again. She couldn’t bare to hear those words. So, she’d turned the whole thing around. It had felt good to see the shock on his face. Then reality had caught up to her, and she’d had to run from the room before she cried.

There was no way in hell she wanted him to feel sorry for her. Better if he thought she was heartless and had the morals of an alley cat.

If she hadn’t promised Sam she’d stay until the wedding, she’d be on the next plane to California today.

Well, she thought sitting up and wiping her tears away. She certainly couldn’t hide out in her room for the next two months. She’d made her bed, now she had to lie in it. For Sam’s sake, she’d pull herself together and pretend nothing had happened. She’d pretend Luke hadn’t just shattered her whole world.

What she needed was something to keep her mind off him. Planning a wedding would be one way, but maybe she could pour her heart into another project. And she knew just the one.

“SO, RUSTY, TELL US more about this charity event you’re involved in,” Sam said. Luke watched as Sam stuffed his mouth with another bite of pasta.

“I’ve already told you. I donated a large amount of money to the children’s orphanage, and now they want me to chair a fund raising event for them. It’s not a big deal.”

Luke agreed. What else could she do with all that money? She’d never be able to spend it all—not in this lifetime anyway. Unless she decided to triple her designer shoe collection, or insult him and Sam by buying them a few more horses.

“It most certainly is. When my daughter’s name and face are on the front page of the newspaper, I call that a big deal.”

“Of course it is,” Becky agreed. “Rusty, this pasta is delicious. And since Sam seems to like it so much, I want the recipe.”

Rusty smiled politely. “Sure. It’s easy.”

Luke noticed Jeremy stab a forkful, scowl at it, then move it to the side of his plate.

“Aren’t you hungry, Jeremy?” Becky asked her son.

“Uh, no. I had a big lunch at school.”

“He’s always been a picky eater,” Becky explained, shooting Jeremy a look that said “You’d better eat it or else.”

“Well,” Rusty said, “if he’s anything like the other men around here, he’s probably afraid to try something new for fear it might be good for him.” She glanced at Luke when she spoke.

Jeremy blushed and set his fork aside. “Sorry, Rusty, but I don’t like eating something unless I know what it is. No offense.” He glanced at his place and scrunched up his freckled nose.

“It’s just whole wheat pasta with sun-dried tomatoes, wild mushrooms and broccoli. Oh, and a splash of wine,” she added, a guilty look on her face, as if she’d committed a major sin.

“It’s not bad, kid,” Luke said. “Try it.” At least it didn’t taste like health food. Usually her cooking left him and Sam pretty hungry afterwards. But tonight he thought they might be able to make it through the evening without eating a couple sandwiches before bed.

“You have such a way of flattering me, Luke,” Rusty said sarcastically, a thin smile pasted on her lips, her eyelashes fluttering like twin hummingbirds.

“My pleasure, Princess,” he returned.

That was the way it had been between them the last two months. Rusty took everything he said, twisted his words, then threw them back in his face. She made him out to be some kind of dumb hillbilly who wasn’t fit to eat her gourmet meals, let alone sit across from her at the kitchen table.

And heaven forbid if he got a little too close to her. Once he’d accidentally brushed her arm with his hand, and she’d tensed up and shuddered as if he were some kind of deadly parasite. How quickly she’d forgotten the places on her body he’d seen, touched and tasted not so long ago.

He’d given up trying to talk to her about that night. Every time he’d tried, she’d wrapped her arms around herself, closed her eyes and said, “Please, don’t be crude. We both made a huge mistake. Let’s just try to forget about it.”

Well, he’d tried to forget about it. And he’d tried to forget about her. But he simply couldn’t forget the way she’d felt and tasted and smelled. Or the cute little way she’d moaned those soft words of encouragement to him when he’d done something particularly creative beneath the sheets.

“After dinner, you’ll have to try on your dress for us,” Becky said to Rusty, breaking Luke’s concentration. “We’ll all want to see what a beautiful maid of honor you’re going to make. Right, everybody?”

Luke raised his beer glass in a toast. “Absolutely,” he said. He had no desire to see Rusty all decked out in a fancy dress, but Becky had made the dress herself, along with her own wedding gown. The least he could do was check it out and smother her with the compliments she deserved.

Becky had been so excited about making the gowns. She’d said since Rusty was taking care of most of the wedding details, it would free her up to sew. There wasn’t a day that had gone by since she and Sam had announced their wedding plans that Becky hadn’t mentioned that fact.

So, he was doomed. After dinner, they’d all retire to the living room and sit back and enjoy the show. The show Rusty would be starring in.

“Hold your breath, Rusty,” Becky said. “That’s it. Suck it in. A little more.”

Rusty couldn’t suck it in anymore or she’d totally deflate. There was no use, she decided, releasing her breath on a long windy sigh.

“Oh, honey. I almost had it,” Becky complained. “Just another inch or so.”

Rusty pivoted around to face her. “I’m sorry. But I don’t want to rip it. You did such a beautiful job.” She’d helped Becky select the ice blue taffeta fabric, which they’d both decided would be perfect for a June wedding. “Is there any way you can let it out a little more. I must have gained some weight since the last fitting.”

Becky stared at her helplessly for a moment, then helped her step out of the gown. While Rusty got dressed, Becky chewed on her lip as if deep in thought. “Have you started taking birth control pills or something?”

“No, why?”

“I just remember when I took them—before I had Jeremy—they had a tendency to enlarge my breasts and thicken my waist.”