On Love's Own Terms (2 page)

“I suppose so,” she repeated softly, disheartened to hear him describe their marriage in such derogatory terms. How he must have hated her then! Tears stung her amber eyes, and she blinked to keep them at bay. Was he deliberately trying to spoil the fresh start they’d made today? Or were they both bedeviled by some of the same old ghosts?

It struck Bonnie in a jolting burst of clarity that she had returned to their loving circle on purpose, hoping to begin releasing her hold on yesterday. But rather than making peace with the past, as she’d planned, she found herself reliving it.

Luke dropped his cigarette and crushed it under the toe of his boot. Fascinated by the rippling interplay of his muscles, Bonnie fought the treachery of her emotions and lost. Lord, she’d almost forgotten what a genuinely big man he was! Her heart hammered in alarm as she recognized the purely physical nature of her response, but logic proved a poor match for passion. Apprehension shimmied through her while she wrestled with her own desires more fiercely than she’d ever battled with her ex-husband.

He must have sensed her turmoil, silent though it was. Luke looked up, his dark gaze scanning her delicately troubled features as he, too, seemed to wage a private war with himself.

How long they stood there, not speaking yet visually devouring each other, Bonnie couldn’t say. She only knew that the tension mounted so fast, it crackled like a live wire dropped in water.

“We’d better head back to the house,” he suggested tersely. His mouth slanted in a thin smile. “Otherwise, Darlene and Dave will think we’ve lost our way.”

Vaguely disappointed and very confused, Bonnie nodded. She’d survived the skirmish, but the victory felt inexplicably hollow. She turned to leave, then paused beneath a pine bough and glanced back at him.

“I haven’t thanked you yet for helping Darlene.”

“It was nothing.” He dismissed her gratitude with a shrug.

“Well, I worried terribly about her after mama died, but she was dating Dave and refused to come live with me.” A faint note of sadness marbled her voice. It hurt to admit her younger sister had found the happiness that had eluded her. She cleared her throat. “When you hired her as office manager for your construction company, it took a real load off my mind.”

“I like Darlene.” Luke’s husky tone wrapped Bonnie in a velvet chain of memories she desperately wanted to forget. “She reminds me of a girl I used to know.”

A dizzying sense of déjà vu enveloped them, and Bonnie’s eyes flared wide as she faced what she’d feared most about coming home. They had grown up and fashioned successful professional lives from the ashes of their personal failure. But neither time nor distance had dulled this need for one another. If anything, absence had only intensified it.

“Do you feel it?” he demanded abruptly.

“Yes.” But it was a reluctant admission.

Luke came toward her, bridging the careful gap they’d kept between them.

Bonnie hesitated, torn between instinct and indecision. It would be so easy to meet him halfway and mold herself to his hard male contours. And so easy to repeat their tragic mistakes. She stood her ground. “Stay away from me, Luke.”

For all it accomplished, she might just as well have whistled into the wind. There was little haste but plenty of purpose in his stride as he closed the distance between them.

“The whole time we’ve been talking, I’ve been loving you in my mind.”

“Stop it,” she ordered softly.

“I’m half-crazy, wondering if you still taste sweeter than candy, whether you—”

“Luke—”

“Still put perfume between your breasts.”

His gaze slid suggestively to the front of her blouse. As though he’d touched them, as if they remembered the feathery caress of his fingertips, her nipples tightened and strained against the silk fabric. Resenting the fact that he still possessed the power to arouse her, she folded her arms across her chest and whirled away from him.

“It’s no use, darling.” He stood behind her and gripped her shoulders, fitting his lean torso to her soft curves. “You can’t hide from love.”

“Love?” The pain of his betrayal quivered in her voice. “You wouldn’t recognize love if it sprouted wings and flew into your face!”

“Call it what you will—”

“It’s defined as
lust
in my dictionary!”

The heat of him warmed the whole length of her. Luke pressed his cheek against her hair while his strong hands deftly massaged the stiffness from her shoulders. Bonnie knew she had to stop this now, before the fire in her veins blazed completely out of control.

“You want me as much as I want you,” he whispered.

“No,” she protested.

As his hands glided down her arms, his mouth explored the sloping hollow where her neck met her shoulders. “I feel it in the way you’re trembling, Bonnie.”

She spun around, catching him off-guard. Flattening her palms against his solid chest, she pushed him backwards. He’d left her no choice—she had to hurt him. It was strictly a matter of self-preservation.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she snapped. “Haven’t you ever heard the expression, trembling with rage? Just remembering why I divorced you, that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

His dark gaze drifted to the front of her blouse again, taking in the hardened tips of her breasts.

The more he hated her, the safer she was—she simply couldn’t afford another emotional risk. Bonnie let him have it with a deliberate cruelty that sickened her.

“And don’t attach any great importance to my physical reaction,” she warned. “I still crave corn pone on occasion, too, but I’m certainly not interested in a steady diet of it.”

Luke’s glare confirmed she’d hit her target, but Bonnie took no pride in her accuracy.

“If you think you sound sophisticated, think again,” he advised. “Leading a man on, then disappointing him, is nothing but a juvenile trick”

“You came on to me!” she reminded hotly.

“You weren’t fighting me off.”

She winced at the truth in his words. “I was confused,” she admitted. “For a minute, I…” How could she tell him she was hurting, too? She couldn’t. “I’ve learned some hard lessons in seven years, Luke—the most important one being the difference between love and lust. If you—”

“Considering that that wasn’t love we felt just a minute ago, it wasn’t a bad substitute,” he said caustically.

Even knowing she deserved his sarcasm, she was hurt by the remark “You haven’t changed a bit! All you want is an instant replay of the past: Luke scores and Bonnie pays the penalty.”

“Spoken like a true martyr,” he scorned. “If I recall correctly, we shared the satisfaction as equally as we did the suffering.”

“You’d better see a doctor,” she retorted, “because your memory seems to be fading real fast.”

Bonnie reeled away from him again, her throat constricting painfully as she was harshly reminded of the baby she’d lost. Deep inside, she had never stopped blaming herself, wondering what she’d done to cause the miscarriage. She drew a bracing breath of air even as the tears spilled freely down her cheeks.

“All I remember is that when I needed my husband’s support the most, he was busy drowning his sorrows in a beer mug and dancing his sadness away in a damned roadhouse.”

“If you’d been more of a wife—”

“Says the model husband?”

The silence thickened with other accusations that didn’t bear repeating.

“I’m sorry, Bonnie.” Luke’s voice was filled with regret. “I know it’s probably too late, but believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you.

She nodded, wordlessly accepting the apology she’d  never dreamed she’d hear. Bonnie turned around and was shocked by the bitterness she saw in his dark eyes. Ashamed of her part in provoking the fight, she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “I’m sorry, too.”

“If I’d known then what I know now, I wouldn’t have let it happen.” Luke looked so miserable, it wrenched her . “I was older; I could have controlled things if I’d tried.”

“It wasn’t all your fault,” she qualified with a watery smile. “I could have said no, if I’d wanted to.”

“Listen. I don’t want to spoil the wedding,” he said. “If my hanging around all week means you’ll be uncomfortable, I’ll head back to Atlanta and stay put until Saturday.” He lifted an eyebrow, leaving the final decision to her. “Hell, I see Darlene and Dave every day; this is your first visit in years. Say the word and I’ll disappear.”

How could she deny him the pleasure of helping prepare for the ceremony that he was partially financing? With a bemused expression, she shook her head. “You’re not worming your way out of shelling walnuts for the wedding cake
that
easily.”

His smile would have charmed the stripes off a skunk.

“Why don’t we declare a truce?” she proposed. “We won’t talk about the past—that’ll be off-limits. And the wedding folderol should keep us too busy to fight”

“Agreed.” Luke proffered his hand, then promptly withdrew it. “Before we shake, though, I have to ask one question on the forbidden subject.”

She eyed him warily, then nodded.

“For the reception, are you baking that fantastic chocolate cake I used to love so much?”

“Yes; it’s Darlene’s favorite.”

“Are the walnuts I’m supposed to shell going into that creamy fudge frosting you were always asking me to help you stir?”

“That’s
two
questions.” Bonnie was stymied by his sudden interest in what she planned to serve. They’d already agreed that the food for the reception was her responsibility.

“Humor me,” he urged with that effective lopsided grin and an innocent shrug of those wide shoulders. “I’m getting to the point as quickly as I can.”

“Yes.” She sighed and tapped her foot impatiently.

“The walnuts are going into the fudge frosting.”

The wicked gleam in his eyes should have warned her. Without touching her, Luke leaned over and placed his mouth a whisper away from her ear, as if the trees could hear. “Remember what we used to do with the extra fudge?”

His question bolted through her like white lightning. After their first erotic episode with the sweet, creamy chocolate, she’d made a habit of stirring up a batch-and-a-half every time. Just in case. Bonnie refused him the satisfaction of a verbal answer, but her scarlet cheeks confirmed that she did, indeed, remember.

“Cease fire!” he proclaimed. Luke grabbed her hand and pumped it, then draped his arm around her shoulders. “Come on,” he encouraged with a friendly squeeze, “I’ll walk you home.”

She shot him an appraising amber glance. “Go on without me,” she insisted. “I’ll be along in a bit.”

“Hey, are you all right?” His embrace tightened slightly.

“I’m fine,” she asserted in a falsely cheerful voice. “This is my last chance for a little peace and quiet before the wedding, and I intend to take advantage of it.”

In truth, she needed the solitude to sort through the newly tangled mess of her emotions. She waited, thinking he’d take the hint. When he didn’t, she shrugged out of his brotherly embrace.

“Scoot!” she ordered. “Before I forget I’m a lady and give you a shove.”

“I’m going. I’m going.” Luke raised his hands in mock fear and did a ludicrous reverse goosestep. Just before he ducked under the pine boughs and disappeared, he veered dangerously close to violating their recent treaty. “If you do forget you’re a lady, I’ll be more than happy to remind you.” He winked. “Curing amnesia is my specialty.”

“I’ll just bet,” she replied skeptically.

When she was certain he’d gone, Bonnie released an exhausted sigh. The next week stretched ahead of her like a long, wearying journey down the same old road. There had always been an element of the extreme in their relationship—love or hate, laughter or tears, hugging or hurting. It was probably downright foolish of her to believe they could straddle the middle line, even for a few days.

Her glance strayed around their circle. Things hadn’t changed as much as she’d hoped—he was virile; she was vulnerable. If that wasn’t a recipe for trouble, she’d trade her wooden spoons and copper pans for a wedge of humble pie.

Chapter 2

Their truce lasted until dinnertime.

“Bonnie, you know I never eat anything that floats,” Luke grumbled as he glared into the soup bowl she’d passed him across the table.

Dave cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair when she set his serving in front of him. Peering curiously into the bowl, he asked, “What do you call them?”

“Ping-Pong balls,” Luke sniped.

“Quenelles,” Bonnie corrected calmly as she ladled soup from the porcelain tureen. Ignoring Luke, she directed her explanation to Darlene and Dave. “They’re similar to dumplings, only they’re made from meat instead of flour. I used chicken for these.”

“Delicious!” Darlene pronounced after biting into one.

Following his intended’s example, Dave took a cautious nibble, then smiled. “Different,” he declared, “but real good.”

The three of them started on the first course of the delectable meal, which Bonnie had spent the afternoon preparing. She had made the dinner as a celebration of their family reunion and had added a silent plea for peace.

Luke saw to it that her prayers went unanswered. He sat opposite her, his soup untouched, paying undivided attention to her mouth. Now and then a crooked smile lifted the corners of his own mouth, as if he found something amusing in the way she ate soup. Bonnie knew she wasn’t dribbling. But every time he grinned, she automatically raised her linen napkin and dabbed her lips and chin. It couldn’t hurt to be on the safe side.

He’s doing it
deliberately!
By the time she realized what he was up to, her hand shook with the effort of lifting her spoon without spilling the soup. She lowered her gaze, studying the interior of her bowl as if it were a crystal ball. Why was he baiting her? Worse yet, why was she rising to it? The clear broth held no answers, only a solitary quenelle.

She counted to ten, impatience surging through her veins. Unaware of the tension at the table, Darlene and Dave chatted happily. Damned if she’d let him ruin her dinner! Her cheeks flaming an angry scarlet, Bonnie looked up and licked her lips with the tip of her tongue. Luke’s eyes shot such electric sparks that she went hot and cold all at once, every cell in her body tingling with excitement.