Lucifer's Lover (29 page)

“So the medical student—Dwayne—put him on a low, low fat diet. Except for when Felicity fed him.”

“Or Shelley,” she added, feeling a light-headed bubbling sensation building in her chest.

“Or Shelley. And he had to run every day, to burn off calories. Of course, he had to shave his head, as he was supposed to be losing his hair. Only he had to explain his new shining dome to Shelley, so he told her the box-building plant where he was supposed to work at nights was riddled with lice and this was the only way to avoid a really nasty infestation.”

He took a breath. “Well, Shelley went into a panic when he started dropping off all the pounds—thought he was ill. He convinced her it was a reaction to the chemicals they were using at the plant to keep down the lice infestation. She wanted to sue the pants off the box plant and he headed her off by confronting the company with his medical records and settling out of court with their lawyers for a massive amount that meant he didn’t have to work again—he could just rest and recover at home.

“What he was actually doing, however, was channeling the money Felicity made to support him while he was battling leukemia into Shelley’s bank account, which he raided when his medical insurance paid off another hefty medical fee—which was how he explained the drain at Felicity’s end. Shelley couldn’t figure out where the money was going, so he told her he had lost a bundle in a stock market scheme that had gone awry and he had been trying to pay it off for the last three months, while the Irish mafia were breathing down his neck.”

Lindsay could feel the laughter building inside her. It wasn’t just Luke’s ridiculous, outrageous story. It was the free-floating airy feeling of release and freedom from a dozen different nagging worries and doubts.

“What happened to Peter?”

Luke shrugged. “Felicity got pregnant. That caused her a minor hiccup of doubt, ’cause sperm count is supposed to subside during radical chemical and radiation therapy. But she was a trusting girl and she loved Peter and put it down to the superman status she’d always known him to have. So she found herself a lawyer to draw up a trust fund for the unborn child.” He shrugged and held out his hands. “She found Shelley.”

Lindsay’s laughter emerged as a smothered guffaw, which she valiantly tried to suppress. Tears of mirth squeezed their way onto her cheeks and she slapped her hand across her mouth to shut in the laughter.

“What? You don’t believe me?” Luke tried to look wounded and failed.

Lindsay shook her head mutely.

“I swear it’s true. I’ll even introduce you to Peter one day. When he’s out of
Riker’s
.”

She controlled her laughter enough to speak. “This is your
family
? Your cousin?”

“Well, third cousin, or something. The relationship is a little stretched, I admit.” He sank down into a crouch right in front of her, bringing his eyes level with hers. “But it’s really a story about me.”

She felt her eyes widen as she tried to assimilate this.

“Oh, not the wives and the lice infestations,” he assured her. “But Peter did what I’ve been doing all my life. Pushing the truth away. Dodging it, ducking it. Mainly because it just too damn unpleasant or unwelcome. Only truth comes back around sooner or later and the harder you’ve fought to duck it, the bigger and harder it hits when it does finally catch up with you.” He grimaced. “Well, that’s what I’ve been doing the last eight weeks. Recovering from the impact.”

He caressed her cheekbone with his fingertip. “I’ve always admired your ability to speak the unadorned truth.”

“You mean I did it? I was the impact?”

“Hell, yes,” he said feelingly. He picked up her hand from the sofa cushions. “I’ve got something else to show you.”

“Another executive aunt or hermit roommate?”

“That was the other side of the continent and a whole other world away.” He shook his head a little. “This time it’s just me.”

* * * * *

He drove her to one of the older, established areas of town, Strathmore Valley, where the houses were skirted by well-tended gardens and the streets hugged the feet of the mountains in long graceful curves. Despite being an older suburb, there were still lots of families in the area. Bikes littered lawns everywhere—proof that most kids already considered it to be springtime despite the patches of snow still lingering in the shadows.

Luke turned into the long, sloping drive of a small house and drove up to the closed garage door. He got out and Lindsay followed curiously.

The house was perched overlooking a wide sweep of the north end of town and most of the peaks on the other side of the valley. Somewhere up there was the Gardner Country Club’s private slopes and chalet. She grimaced and turned away, to find Luke was watching her.

“What?” she demanded.

“Happy memories?” he asked, sorting through keys on his key ring.

“Very funny.”

He nodded and strode to the trunk of the car and opened it. He lifted out a cardboard box and shut the trunk, then stepped up onto the deck that lined the house and walked up to the front door.

Lindsay watched, a little shocked, as he lifted his key ring again and unlocked the front door.

A dozen questions occurred to her and no answers came willingly. She hurried up the steps onto the polished floorboards of the deck and followed him inside.

It was warm inside but echoed hollowly. She knew that empty smell from experience. Luke had moved into a large lounge room on the right, through a wide arch and down three polished wooden steps.

“Shut the door,” he called. “Don’t want to lose all the heat.”

She shut the door automatically and followed him into the lounge area. It was a beautiful room—or could be, with the right care and attention to details. Built in bookcases covered the front wall, except for two tall windows. Beneath the windows, the bookcases made window seats—or would with the addition of comfortable cushions. Sunlight would stream in those windows during the afternoon. Now it was coming in through the two narrow windows on either side of the fireplace on the connecting wall, pooling on the thick patterned carpet.

“Luke? Is this a Habitat project?”

“No.” He put his box down and shoved his hands in his pockets. “It’s my place.”

She wasn’t exactly surprised—not after he had opened the front door with a key on his own key ring. But she still found herself assessing the room with a different eye. “Your place? Here? In Deerfoot Falls? I would have thought New York at least—”

He strode past her. “Come on. I’ll give you a tour.”

He led her through the big kitchen at the back of the house, the study and bathroom downstairs and the three roomy bedrooms and bathrooms upstairs. The basement had been lined and carpeted at some stage in the house’s life and service rooms had been framed off at the end but very little else had been done with it. It still had lots of potential.

“It’s a great house, Luke,” she told him as they arrived back at the lounge room. “But it’s not something I’d ever think you would consider buying.”

“I know.” He moved back to the cardboard box again. “Can you help me with these?”

She moved to his side as he opened the box and he pulled out half a dozen old hardcover books and handed them to her.

She stared at them, confused.

“They’re books,” he clarified.

“No kidding,” she breathed. “They’re yours?” Suddenly her heart was galloping along.

“Absolutely. They go on the shelves.”

She walked over to the shelves and put them on one of the lower ones, her mind sluggishly trying to figure out the significance of Luke having books. She didn’t know what it meant exactly, but she found herself trembling again. Instead of crouching in front of the book shelf, she lowered herself to her knees and gripped the front of the shelf, staring blindly at the backs of the books.

Did she dare hope…?

Luke sat on the floor next to her.

“The thing is, Lynds,” he said softly, “I couldn’t get beyond decades of habit. I thought I liked my life. I thought I liked the independence and the lack of close connections. So I spent a lot of time making sure everyone stayed that far away. Even you.”

She bit her lip, feeling the too-easily-provoked tears stinging her eyes. She stayed silent, hoping there would be more.

“And the whole time I was furiously building homes for people. I guess it had to come out somewhere.” He gave a gusty sigh. “I was wrong, Lynds. I was wrong, you were right and you had to come to New York and slap me upside the face before I got it. I watched you boarding that plane back here and it felt like someone had taken a cleaver to my chest. I don’t ever want to experience that again.”

She cleared her throat. “That was eight weeks ago.”

“Well, it takes a while to quit your job, start a business, build up financial backers and buy a home. I moved as fast as I could.”

“You quit your job? At the Derwent?”

He nodded. “By voice mail too.”

“Poor Doug.”

“Sod Doug,” Luke said with a growl. He picked up her hand and rested it on his knee, spreading the fingers. He gently caressed the flesh and she felt little tremors and quivers spreading up her arm and through her body in response. She gritted her jaw against them.

“So, Lynds…”

She stayed silent.

He exhaled sharply. “Hell, this is harder than I thought.” He dropped his gaze to her hand and laid his own across it and his palm was hot. “I’m not sure how I’ll go with this but I want to try because I finally figured out this is what I really want.”

“What is ‘this’?” she asked softly.

He looked up then. “You. The baby. This…” He waved his hand around the room. “I bought it with you in mind. I’ve been running around all my life trying to find a family, a home. I guess I’m an idiot because up until you left New York, it never occurred to me that if I wanted a home, I could make one where ever I am. I just have to fill it with people I love. That’s the key.”

His eyes were steady on her face and Lindsay knew he was watching to see if she would accept his words. His offer. The tears crowded her then and spilled down her cheeks and she tried to wipe at them but Luke beat her to it, gently smoothing them away.

“Please say yes, Lynds,” he said quietly.

She had to clear her throat to speak. “I said yes a week ago.”

“You did?” Delight warred with confusion on his face.

“But I sent it to New York. I didn’t know you were back here again.”

“This tape you mentioned?” He scrambled to his feet. “Hang on.” He strode to the front door and she heard the letterbox lid open and shut.

When he returned, he was carrying her padded mailer. “Josh posted it on. Can I open it?”

She nodded and Luke ripped it open. He caught the video as it dropped into his hands and sat back down on the carpet to read the note. And frowned. He looked at the tape. “What is it?” he asked.

She laid her hand over her stomach. “It’s the ultrasound scan of the baby. And his heart beating.”

“His?”

“Yes.”

He lowered the cassette to the floor and looked at her. “This is scary stuff,” he said quietly.

“I’m scared too.”

“I’ve never done this before.”

She couldn’t help her watery smile. “I should hope not.”

“I mean…the family, home, whole life thing.”

“Most people start out as amateurs,” she told him. She leaned over to caress his cheek. “You’re supposed to kiss me now, I think.”

His dark eyes danced a little. “Really?” He picked her up and placed her in his lap, his arms wrapping around her. His first kiss was a light peck and she grabbed his sweater and shook him a little.

“You!”

He laughed and kissed her properly and Lindsay floated into the power of the kiss, her body tightening with pleasure, reveling because this time there would be no hasty push away, no epithet to follow. This time she knew he wanted her.

“This, I know how to do,” he said with a growl, his hand sliding the length of her thigh, to cup her bottom, his mouth trailing kisses and heat down her throat to the flesh visible at the top of her shirt, making her arch against him.

She felt herself slide to the carpet and Luke swiveled to lie against her, his body covering hers.

“I missed you,” she whispered against his cheek.

His answer was a small groan and his arms tightened around her. “These last eight weeks have been hell on wheels,” he said, his voice rough. “I didn’t know how much I’d come to count on seeing you at least once a day—even if it was to hear you rip me to shreds for another infraction of some sort. Did I ever tell you I love how beautiful and sexy you get when you’re angry?”

But Lindsay was busy dealing with another thought, an astonishing one. “My god!” she breathed and lifted his face from her neck so she could look him in the eye. “I just remembered. You joked about staying in Deerfoot Falls because of me. But you weren’t joking, were you?”

His smile faded. “I let you think I was joking, didn’t I? But it was you, Lynds. You were what got me on that plane every Monday morning.” His gaze was steady. Honest.