Bought: Damsel in Distress. Lucy King

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СКАЧАТЬ from her ear as her sister let out a very unlike-Anna squeal.

      She frowned. ‘At least that was the plan. After the “Oh, dear” episode I’m not sure whether he’ll turn up.’

      ‘Of course he will. He’s a man of his word.’

      ‘How on earth do you figure that?’

      ‘He turned up to take you to France, didn’t he? He’ll be there tomorrow. And when he is, you can ask him what he meant.’

      But did she want to know? That was the question that had been swirling around Emily’s head for the past twenty-four hours. Their kiss had replayed in her mind all night. Her response to Luke was overwhelming. How could she react like this to a man she’d only just met and barely knew? For the first time in her life she was at the mercy of an extraordinary attraction that was as unsettling as it was exciting. This, plus the steamy thoughts generated by the discovery of a complimentary box of condoms in a bathroom cupboard, had made her toss and turn until she’d finally given up and gone to pound her restlessness out in the pool.

      At least the hotel beautician had managed to cover up the worst of the grey circles under her eyes, and the hairdresser had sorted her hair out so that her feather fascinator looked as though it did actually belong where it was.

      Her sister had packed well, thought Emily, slipping into the dress she’d worn to Anna and David’s wedding. A dress which had earned compliments from everyone except Tom. She should have realised something wasn’t quite right between the two of them way back then.

      She thrust her feet into gold strappy sandals and glanced at her watch. Quarter to three. Her hands were trembling as they fumbled with the straps. The butterflies in her stomach were clamouring to escape. She wasn’t sure quite what her nerves were for. The wedding, or coming face to face with Luke? Both probably.

      After the way he’d walked out yesterday evening she wouldn’t be at all surprised if he didn’t show up this afternoon, despite Anna’s assurances. Anna hadn’t seen the stunned expression on his face when he’d agreed to go with her, as if he’d been as startled by his answer as she was. Nor had she seen his face darken in a way that suggested he’d regretted his decision the moment he’d made it. So if he was waiting for her downstairs, what mood would he be in?

      Oh, well, thought Emily, there was only one way to find out. She picked up her clutch bag, pulled her shoulders back and glanced at herself in the mirror. If there was one thing she was certain of, she told herself, taking a series of deep, steadying breaths and checking her teeth for lipstick, the next few hours were going to be anything but boring.

      CHAPTER THREE

      FUN. Was that what this was supposed to be? Luke asked himself grimly, pushing through the hotel’s revolving door and stalking across the gleaming marble floor. Fun was supposed to be light, nothing more than a passing diversion. It was not supposed to knock him for six, and it was not supposed to derail his focus to such an extent that his clients had asked him if he was all right in the middle of the meeting.

      Luke scowled as he scanned the lobby in case Emily was early, and then flung himself onto the sofa, picked up the first magazine his fingers found and flicked to an article on interest rate forecasts in south-east Asia.

      He didn’t need to look up to know that Emily had walked into the lobby. He hadn’t heard the lift ping, he hadn’t heard the swish of a door drawing back, yet he knew. By the way the tiny hairs at the back of his neck leapt up. The words blurred on the page. The tapping of her heels on the marble echoed louder and louder as they came towards him. Deliberately taking his time, Luke closed the magazine, looked up, and his mouth went dry.

      She was standing on the very spot where they’d kissed yesterday, wearing some kind of green wraparound dress the exact colour of her eyes. It fell to her knees and clung just about everywhere. His gaze roamed up, taking in the elegant sweep of hair that was caught up with an arrangement of feathers and tumbled in glossy waves over her shoulders, and then he continued his appraisal down over her curves to the very high sandals that made her long legs even longer.

      Running a finger around the inside of the collar of a shirt that was suddenly choking him, Luke got to his feet. Her scent threaded towards him, and he was gripped by a lust so strong that he had to jam his hands in his pockets to stop himself from throwing her over his shoulder, bundling her back into that lift and locking them both in her room for the rest of the weekend.

      ‘You look beautiful,’ he managed hoarsely, giving her a tense smile and then clearing his throat.

      Emily returned his smile with a sunnier one of her own and he was struck by a deep sense of foreboding. Telling him to get out of here now. Head straight back to Monte Carlo as fast as Pierre could get him there.

      ‘Thank you,’ said Emily, giddy with relief that he’d turned up to meet her and buzzing at his compliment. ‘So do you.’

      Luke Harrison dressed for a wedding was devastating. The fact that he looked tired and drawn did nothing to detract from his dark good looks, and did nothing to diminish the effect he was having on her pulse.

      But, although he was staring at her as if he wanted to devour her, he didn’t offer her a kiss on the cheek and she suddenly felt uncharacteristically awkward. He had an edge about him today that made her feel as if she could be walking on eggshells, and she couldn’t bring herself to ask him what the ‘Oh dear’ had meant. If she did, it would stir up memories of that kiss, and Luke didn’t look as if he was in the mood to discuss it. Much better to pretend it had never happened.

      ‘Would you like a drink before we go?’

      God, no, thought Emily. Who knew how long it would be before she stepped too heavily on those eggshells? Two hours in a confined space with him would be bad enough as it was. Why prolong the agony? ‘Would you mind if we just went straight there?’

      ‘Not at all.’ Luke put a hand on her elbow to lead her out to his car. His chauffeur-driven car, if the well-built man dressed in a dark uniform and cap and standing by the rear door was anything to go by. ‘Give the address to Pierre and he’ll put it into the navigation system.’

      Emily fished the invitation out of her bag and presented it to Pierre with a flourish. ‘Voilà,’ she said, smiling up at the driver, who took it with an inclination of his head and then held the door open for her. Emily swung into the car as if she never travelled any other way, while Luke stalked round to the other side and folded himself onto the back seat beside her.

      The Provence countryside had been whizzing by for about an hour before Emily had finally had enough of the crackling silence. Wasn’t she the one who was supposed to be on edge and tense? Her ex-fiancé was, after all, within a hair’s breadth of marrying another woman. To add insult to injury, she was bound to bump into people who’d taken his side after the split and whom she hadn’t seen or spoken to since. Yes, she was the one who should be trembling in trepidation. But, bizarrely, she felt fine. Amazingly calm and collected and ready to face whatever the afternoon held in store for her.

      Luke, however, who should be relaxed and looking forward to spending the afternoon drinking champagne at someone else’s expense, was radiating unease and sitting unnaturally still. He was staring into the distance, probably totally unaware of the quaint towns and swathes of fields zipping past.

      What on earth was the matter with him? Yesterday, for the most part, he’d been charming. Today he was decidedly unsociable and it was unsettling her. To hell with the eggshells. СКАЧАТЬ