Luke (9 page)

He shook his head as a smile of quiet anticipation tipped one corner of his mouth. “Oh, April, sweetheart,” he said softly, “I'll stick close. I'll be so close you'll think I'm your shadow. Every time you look up, I'll be there. Run as fast as you can, but you'll never get away from me. Never.”

M
idnight was gone.

He was a tomcat so had a tendency to roam, especially when April left him alone at Mulberry Point. There was a cat door cut in the back entrance and she always left plenty of food and water out for him, plus had a neighbor look in from time to time. When she returned, he was usually aloof in his annoyance at being left, but never let it keep him from stalking out to meet her as she pulled into the drive.

This time, he didn't come when April called, wasn't in any of his usual haunts such as the old carriage shed that was used as a garage or under the raised floor of the house. Setting his favorite dish on the back porch didn't make him come running. Calling him while she tramped through the woods that crowded one side of the house didn't bring him pouncing from ambush to wind around her legs.

It was possible, of course, that he'd found a new mate during her absence. April had never had the heart to have him neutered, no matter how responsible she knew it to be. His latest romance would last only a short while, no doubt, then he'd be back, battle-scarred, exhausted, and craving sympathy.
She wouldn't worry, or at least not for a couple of days.

Her pet was just an alley cat, a stray she'd found sleeping on the warm hood of her car during her last winter in New Orleans. Martin had hated the idea of a black cat as a pet, which was one reason she'd been so determined to tame and keep the scrawny kitten. She'd fed and groomed Midnight, played with him, told him all her troubles. In return, the cat had given her his single-minded devotion. He lay for hours in the sunny window next to the desk where she worked. When he thought she'd done enough, he often rose and leaped to her desktop, stalked across the piles of papers and books, then sprawled across her computer keyboard.

She missed him.

It was scary, really, how much she worried and fretted. In between bouts of imagining all the things that could have happened to him, she felt deserted and even angry that he hadn't returned. She hadn't realized how much of her emotional life was bound up in that useless cat. The house felt empty without him.

She could settle to nothing, could not get into her book in progress at all. She thought almost constantly about the attempts to get to her and who could be behind them. She had begun her writing career with a lovelorn teens' advice column in her high school paper because she'd always been fascinated by why people did things. She still had a habit of analyzing the attitudes and backgrounds of those she met, noting the way they carried out, and screwed up, their lives. It was doubly frustrating,
then, that she could find no motive for what was happening to her now.

She spent a lot of time on the rear gallery of Mulberry Point, sitting at a cast iron table while she stared at the lake that lapped the lawn's edge. It seemed that everyone and everything she cared about left her alone. Her father who'd preferred getting drunk at the local bar to being with his family, then had taken both himself and her mother into the afterworld in a blast of rage and shotgun pellets. Her grandmother who had succumbed to cancer while she was away at college. Luke who had gone from her arms to those of another girl, one who had died because of him.

She'd sent Martin away herself, of course; not that she'd ever really cared. But then being with her self-centered ex-husband had been the next thing to being alone.

Death and loneliness seemed to follow her everywhere. The idea was frightening, but nothing new. Its specter had been with her for years, since well before she had left Turn-Coupe. It wasn't really stronger since she'd returned; it was only the constant reminders of the past that made it seem that way.

Not that she'd given up on Midnight, naturally. He would be back sooner or later. He had to come back.

Her mind drifted often to New Orleans, replaying every scene that had happened there. The last one, when Luke had faced down Martin, nagged at her. Seeing the two men together had reinforced everything she knew about her ex. Compared to Luke, Martin had seemed like a shell of a man, handsome
on the outside but empty within. His smiles and engaging mannerisms had struck her as calculated instead of the natural charm of an outgoing personality. The contrast between the two men had stunned her so much that she'd hardly noticed what they were saying to each other.

That was until there at the end, of course. The very idea of Luke suggesting her fingernails had ripped his shirt. As if she had so little self-control that she would do such a thing. On the other hand, the look on Martin's face had been priceless. She couldn't help grinning just a little to herself at the memory—not that she'd forgiven Luke or had any intention of it. He might have a more solid character than Martin but he was another man too handsome for his own good.

The power and heat of Luke's body, not to mention that of his smiles, had not left her unaffected. He turned her on; it was as simple as that. It was an interesting if uncomfortable discovery. She'd thought she was immune, even numb, to that kind of desire. She couldn't regret the revelation that she was not, even if she intended to avoid at all costs the man who'd caused it.

Avoiding thinking about it, however, might be another thing entirely.

 

It was a relief to be forced from the house to participate in Kane and Regina's wedding rehearsal. That practice went off without a hitch, probably because Luke wasn't there. Luke, an accomplished pilot who did his own crop dusting, had flown an elderly friend of his grandmother's to an appoint
ment with a heart specialist in Houston. He'd promised to be back in plenty of time for the ceremony, however, and had been best man so many times that he had the drill down pat. Regina's young son, Stephan, was drafted to play the part as well as being ring bearer, and the rehearsal and the dinner afterward proceeded without Luke.

The afternoon of the wedding was hot and bright. The church parking lot was crowded with cars, as were the streets surrounding the small Victorian chapel. Regina was beautiful in champagne silk heavy with seed pearls and with a Juliet cap on her flowing auburn hair. Kane was stalwart and handsome in his black tuxedo. Happiness crackled around them like silent fireworks.

It was touching to see the way they concentrated on each other during the ceremony, as if no one and nothing else existed. Their smiles were intense, their eyes liquid with promise. Watching them made April's fingers itch for her notepad so she could jot down descriptions of what love looked like for future reference.

It was as the exchange of rings was being made that she glanced at Luke. He was concentrating on his job, but pretended to fumble the bridal ring as he passed it to Kane. The look Kane gave him held an amiable threat but Luke's grin in return was unrepentant.

Nothing was serious to Luke, April thought with a tight frown. Life was a fine joke, an endless succession of good times. He worked hard, yes, but he played harder. He had no ambition, no goals in life other than farming the land at Chemin-a-Haut and
seeing after his grandmother. He was a throwback to another age. That was a shame because he could have been anything he wanted. She wondered, almost at random, why he hadn't become a lawyer, like Kane, or gone into law enforcement as Roan had done. Why hadn't he tried politics, medicine, business and finance—anything except farming? Was it possible the events of that night thirteen years ago had affected him more than it seemed, after all?

April was so deep in thought that she was startled as the recessional blared forth from the church organ. She hurried to straighten Regina's train as the bride and groom turned to face the congregation. Then April took the arm Luke offered and followed the married couple down the aisle.

“You're looking stunning, as usual,” he said with a quick glance at her tea-length dress of pale peach silk.

“So are you,” she said with irony. Black tie might have been designed especially to set off the Benedict brand of dark attraction. She could just catch the elusive sandalwood and spice of his aftershave as well. The slight, enticing scent seemed much more likely to encourage females to come closer than the more powerful concoctions favored by most men.

“You know we're supposed to ride together to the reception?” he added. “Seems a limo has been provided for us as well as Kane and his lady, since we're the only attendants other than Regina's Stephan.”

“I know.” April had her misgivings about it,
though she could see no way out short of being extremely rude.

“Well, don't fall into a depression,” Luke advised with a twist to his mobile lips. “It's only a ten-minute drive out to The Haven.”

She gave him a straight look. “I know that, too.”

“Good. It takes longer than that to seduce a woman, even for me.”

There was no time for the scathing reply that rose to her lips. They had emerged on the church steps where the photographer waited. April and Luke stood back while Kane and Regina were immortalized, then they stepped forward to submit to their part of the ordeal. By the time they were finished, the churchyard and its parking lot had cleared and only the two white limos were left waiting.

The chauffeur of the second car held the door for April. Luke stood back until she was seated, then swept her silk skirts out of his way with a practiced hand before joining her. She slipped across the seat as far as it was possible to go. The look he gave her from under his lashes held equal parts of annoyance and resignation.

“I don't bite, I promise. Unless a love nip or two is requested by a lady.”

“We should have no problem, then,” she said coolly, “since I won't be asking for anything at all.”

“Now that's a relief. Demanding women can be so tiring.” As the heavy vehicle slid away from the curb behind the first limo holding the bride and groom, Luke slumped down with his long legs stretched out into the open space of the back. He
knitted his fingers over his chest and closed his eyes with a long sigh.

She could almost believe he was exhausted from a night of debauchery or, at the very least, a wild stag party for Kane. The main thing wrong with that picture was that she knew from Regina he'd only returned from Houston in the small hours of the morning. Her voice a little abrupt, she asked, “How is your grandmother's friend?”

He lifted his lashes. “She's all right—for a cantankerous old biddy with more spirit than strength, one who thinks doctors don't know squat about her ailments.”

“I take it she was more trouble on your flight yesterday than the women you usually take up with you?” April's voice was a little warmer as she realized that there was as much affection in his tone as there was exasperation.

“You take it right. Though what you know about my flying or my dating habits—”

“Nothing whatsoever except for the little that Regina or Kane mention from time to time. You'll find this difficult to believe, I'm sure, but I do have other interests.”

“But not amorous interests. Such a waste.” He closed his eyes again.

“You,” she said with a curl to her finely molded lips, “are in no position to judge.”

“You saying you go out on the town now and then? Or are you only admitting to X-rated fantasies?”

“None of your business,” she snapped with something less than originality.

“I could make it my business with a little effort. I wouldn't want you to be too deprived.”

She sent him a quick glance. His eyes were closed and he sounded half asleep, as if the discussion were too boring to keep him awake or else he was paying little attention to his own distracted replies. She wondered if the offer he'd just made was a knee-jerk response to any female who appeared in need of male attention, or if he was serious. The impulse to test him hovered in the back of her mind for a full second before she dismissed it. In glacial tones, she said, “Thank you, but I'll pass.”

“Not interested, huh? Or is it only that you'd rather be a man's main woman, object of his whole attention and complete adoration?”

“I'm only interested in what's real and true,” she answered tightly.

“True love, real love, cherishing and keeping forever, amen, till death do us part?”

“Something like that.” She looked away out the window at the stretch of green woodland they were passing where ferns grew under the spreading branches of the hardwoods and vines looped between them like twisted, living ropes.

“Are you sure? Or would you really like the excitement of a wild affair with fast flights and breathless meetings during the afternoon? Come on, admit it. Staid dates won't cut it. You need more.”

“Don't be ridiculous,” she snapped.

“Am I being ridiculous?” His slow smile curved the sensuous fullness of his mouth. “Don't tell me an affair with no ties or regrets has no appeal?” He
opened his eyes suddenly to expose the heat in the depths of his dark gaze.

She tore her gaze away though she could feel the warmth of a flush creeping along her neck. “None at all.”

“You're sure?”

“I'm positive,” she replied, setting her lips in a straight line.

“You wouldn't succumb, wouldn't let yourself be persuaded? You're sure you would resist to the last inch if I decided to seduce you?”

“You must be joking. You're the last man I'd trust anywhere near me.”

His gaze narrowed. “Is that so? Or should I take it as a challenge?”

“It's the unvarnished truth, believe me. But the point is moot since you haven't the least intention of seducing anybody.” The words had an irritable sound that she hadn't quite intended, as if her annoyance might stem from his lack of ambition rather than his arrogance.

“Oh, April. You underestimate me. Is it just a habit or deliberate provocation?”

“Call it considered judgment.” That had the right tinge of disdain, she thought. Even she winced a little at the sound of it.