KATIE CAME OUT of the dressing room of the swanky clothing store to find Luke sitting in the chair outside the door. His gaze swept her jeans-clad body with intimate perusal before lifting to her face. “I thought I was helping you pick your dress.”
She motioned to the black chiffon number in her hand that hit right above the knee, with sequins on the straps that wrapped around her neck. “I already picked.”
“You only tried on three dresses,” he said. “I thought you women normally had to try on twenty or thirty to find ‘the one.’”
Katie glanced toward the fifty-something store attendant, who was helping another customer. “This is business. I needed a dress. I found a dress.” And, boy, had she gotten lucky. Normally, she could try on twenty or thirty dresses to find a good one. “We need to get back to your place and recap our cover story.”
He studied her, making no move to get up from the chair before finally standing and stepping close to her. “I know it’s business and all, Katie,” he said, “but you might as well enjoy the night.” His voice softened, tenderness caressing its depths. “Get a dress you like.”
The intimacy that came so easily between them rattled Katie. It was something she’d never experienced with a man. Maybe it was his Southern, good-guy charm that Ron had sworn existed, hidden in their first encounter but flourishing now.
Whatever it was, it was warming her inside and out. Impairing her ability to think straight and do her job. She should be scanning for trouble, not staring into those silvery-gray eyes of his. “I like the dress,” she managed, though even to her own ears her voice was low, affected.
He reached up and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “You’re sure?”
His touch was electric, fire on her skin. Goose bumps lifted on her neck. Oh, man. Why couldn’t he have kept up that jerk routine. It really would have made this assignment easier if she hated him. Because she didn’t hate him anymore. She really did not hate him. “Yes,” she said. “I’m sure.”
He paused, as if assessing her sincerity, and then said, “Good, then let’s seal the deal and make it ours.” He reached for the dress.
Katie frowned and moved away, pulling the dress out of reach. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to pay for it.”
“Oh, no,” she said quickly. “You are not buying my dress.”
Surprise flashed in his face before his jaw set. “You need it because of my party. I’m buying it.”
She tried to step around him. “I don’t need you to buy me a dress.” It made her feel for sale. It made her feel…bad.
He maneuvered in front of her. “Katie. I’m buying the dress.”
“No. You are not.”
He grimaced. “You wouldn’t need this dress if not for my function tonight. Technically, isn’t it a work expense?”
That idea ground along her nerve endings like sandpaper on wood. Right. Work. Not a date. Not that she’d ever thought it was. Not that she wanted it to be. She shoved the dress at him more abruptly than intended and responded in a tone more agitated than intended. “Fine. You can buy the dress. I’ll be at the front of the store waiting.”
She got a glimpse of his confused face but didn’t stay for a full-on inspection. She rushed away, no idea why she was upset.
A few minutes later, Luke joined her at the doorway. She didn’t look at him, instead scanning the surrounding areas for anything that indicated danger. He held the door for her as she climbed into his Ford Explorer.
Once he was inside, doors shut, he didn’t start the engine. “I’ve decided you’re a very complicated woman. You didn’t want me to buy the dress. Then when I tried to make you feel okay about me buying it, I said something wrong.”
“You didn’t say anything wrong, Luke.” Luke, resting his arm on the steering wheel, turned to study her more closely.
“I’m assuming that translates to mean I didn’t say anything wrong, but I didn’t say anything right, either.”
Katie cut her gaze, staring out of the front window. She didn’t confirm or deny his assessment, though he was right on target. She’d had some sort of meltdown inside she had yet to understand. She wanted Luke to be like Joey, buying everyone and everything—a jerk, easy to dismiss. Then she didn’t want him to be like Joey. She wanted him to be a real good guy.
The heat of Luke’s inspection sizzled along her skin, and Katie decided a subject change was her best response. “With the shopping behind us, we can get back to work.” She glanced in his direction. “I need to review the data in the file Ron gave us today, including a detailed rundown of your relationships, past and present, good and bad, so I can begin ruling out people close to you being responsible for these letters. Unfortunately, and uncomfortably, that means your ex-girlfriend and ex-manager, as well.” And his present manager, Katie thought. Not that she suspected Ron of anything. He’d hired her after all, but she wasn’t excluding him. The Ron she thought she knew would never have manipulated her and Luke as he had recently.
“Got it,” Luke said. “You changed the subject. Now it’s my turn. I’m changing the subject.” He turned the ignition over. “I have to be in my monkey suit and at the charity event for a photo call at five and it’s already pushing one o’clock. I’d suggest we grab a bite to eat and plan your coming-out party.”
She frowned and reached for his arm, stopping him from putting the truck into gear. Awareness shot through her body; she swallowed hard, pulling her hand back, and tried again. Luckily, she sounded composed. “You aren’t taking these threats seriously,” she accused. “Those letters might seem silly to you, but anyone who goes to enough trouble to cut out words from newspapers and magazines and then mail them off, changing postmarks each time, is meticulous, smart and unstable. That’s a bad combination. So please, don’t ignore these letters.”
His hand dropped from the gearshift as he angled his body toward hers. “I’m not ignoring the letters, just the idea of a real threat behind them. I’m of the opinion someone is trying to rattle my cage—or rather, my game. There’s a lot of ugly jealousy and competition in this sport. Hell, in all sports. We like to pretend it doesn’t exist, but it does.”
“Don’t you think threatening letters are pretty extreme?” she asked.
“And taking steroids that might damage your body and get you kicked out of the game isn’t?”
She inclined her head. “Point taken.”
“And since we’re breaking this down. That salt-in-the-water incident—that would have been laughed off as a team prank under different circumstances, but one of the letters made it to the management office.”
“Ron didn’t mention that,” Katie said.
“Well, good thing I did, then,” he said, “considering it’s a fairly important detail. In other words, someone wanted them breathing down my throat.”
“Even if this person is trying to rattle you, Luke,” Katie warned, “you have to see this is unstable behavior.” Sooner or later, the guilty party would step up their game, do more than letters and salt in the water.
“Maybe,” he conceded. “But whoever this is, they aren’t bringing me down. I won’t let them. I have a zone I enter when I walk onto that mound, and nothing but the game exists there. And I had a damn good preseason to prove it.”
Understanding filled Katie. “I remember that zone,” she said softly, drawing his surprised look. “When I was dancing, before I blew out my knee, everything else disappeared inside the music and the routine.”
He stared at her for a long moment. “You loved dancing. That was your real dream. Not this security biz.”
She gave a terse nod. “Yes. My dancing was your baseball. I was injured and I knew it, but I landed a choreographer spot on a top musician’s tour. The top spot.” She remembered the call all too well. “I’d been a nobody so long. It was my big break.”
“And you blew out your knee again,” he murmured.
“Right. Messed it up for good.” She tilted her head acceptingly. “But that’s old news. I’ve adjusted and moved on. What else can I do? What can any of us do in such a situation?”
Katie settled her leg on the seat and turned to face him. “The point in my story, Luke, isn’t about me. It’s about you. I want you to know I understand where you’re coming from. I don’t want you to feel I’m working against your career. I know the first game of the season is less than a week away. I can see why it’s important you don’t let this mess with your head, and I’ll do everything in my power to make the security fade into the background. To let you play. In fact, if you’re right and someone is trying to mess with your head, it will be my great pleasure to watch you pitch the best season of your career.”
A slow smile slid onto his lips. “I am going to pitch the best season of my career.”
“And I’ll be here covering your back while you do,” she promised, returning his smile.
His gaze lowered to her lips, lingered, then lifted. “What would you do if I grabbed you and kissed you right now?”
“You don’t want to know,” she warned, trying to keep the playful out of her tone, but it was hard. So hard.
His eyes lit with desire. “What if I do?”
What if she did, too? “Drive the truck.”
She’d barely finished issuing the order when he pulled her close, that big, hard body touching her in all the right places. His tongue thrusting deep into her mouth in a long, drugging kiss. She tried to seem unaffected, but he tasted so good, felt too perfect. She could feel the moan rising in her throat; she willed it back. But it was there, escaping her lips and declaring the blissful state of arousal overtaking her body.
Luke smiled against her mouth. “I had a feeling that’s what you’d do.”
She shook herself inwardly and shoved out of his arms. “That’s not what I should have done. I should have punished you in some horrible, painful way involving my knee.”
“You and that knee.” He chuckled and put the truck in gear. “I’m sure you can think of a way to punish me that doesn’t include horrible and painful in the description.”
Erotic images about how she might punish him—tie him up, kiss every one of his delicious abdominals and elsewhere while he begged for more. Oh, boy. Katie shook herself, but judging from Luke’s renewed rumble of deep, sexy laughter, not before he guessed she was in naughty land.
Katie glared at him and snatched her seat belt, doing the only safe thing the truck allowed. She secured herself as far from Luke as possible for as long as possible—until tonight, when she was destined to be on his arm, as his date. Protecting him. Now, who the heck was going to protect her from him? That was the real question. And did she really want to be?
***
THE PHOTO CALL CAME in the blink of an eye, a large banquet-type hotel room set up as a studio. He’d barely arrived before he’d been whisked into the center of attention. After what felt like hours of pictures, Luke escaped the photographers and headed for the sidelines where Katie stood patiently waiting.
Crazy as it seemed, he was hot and hard, just thinking of touching her, of inhaling her sweet floral scent. Damn. The woman had him all shaken and stirred in a big way. She was a challenge. It was the only logical explanation. She wasn’t falling at his feet. She didn’t want him for his game. She didn’t even want to want him.
Yeah, it was the challenge getting to him, he confirmed in his mind. It was the only damn explanation he was willing to accept. Because there was no way in hell he was falling for this woman, or any other, having had his heart twisted in knots only months before. Not that he’d ever really loved his ex. A detail made clear when he’d missed his manager more than he’d missed Rebecca. The man had been with him since the day he’d been drafted out of college, almost ten years ago now. Rebecca had been with him a year, but nevertheless, she’d been a stable comfort in his life, one that didn’t come easily with a decade of traveling under his belt.
Katie smiled as he approached—a genuine smile that seemed to say she was glad he was headed in her direction—and it lit him up like the sun beaming down on the pitcher’s mound on a hot summer afternoon. She’d been around high society and public figures before, and it showed in how smoothly she managed interaction with several people far more famous than he’d ever dreamed of being. She wasn’t all starry-eyed and infatuated. Damn if she wasn’t a breath of fresh air. He liked it. And he definitely liked how she looked in the slim-cut black dress she’d chosen. It hugged her slender, athletic body exactly the way he would want it to—tastefully close—at least for now. Later, if he was lucky, he’d explore her long, slender legs in delicious, intimate detail.
He stopped in front of her, slid a hand to her waist. “How are you hanging in there?”
“Displeased with the event’s security,” she replied. “If this wasn’t for a good cause, I would have you out of here in a snap.”
His other hand settled on her waist. “I don’t know if I’ve ever been with a woman so hell-bent on control.” He wiggled an eyebrow. “I think I like it.”
“You’re not with me,” she reminded him, hushing her voice. “I’m protecting you.”
He leaned close, inhaled. “You smell like spring flowers.” The scent zipped through his system with a rush of heat. “Remind me to thank Ron for manipulating me into not being with you.”
She slid her fingers down his lapel, her breath warm on his neck as she leaned in and whispered, “Not unless you tell me it’s because you feel safer now, because that’s why I’m here. To keep you safe.”
“You talk so tough,” he accused. “But I think you’re all soft and warm underneath all that toughness.”
She gave him a disbelieving look and shook her head. “Soft and warm?” Her voice quavered ever so slightly, not quite as controlled as normal. “I told you I don’t like baseball—actually, I told you I don’t like you. What part of either of those things sounds soft and warm?”
“Both,” he assured her. “Because you didn’t mean either one of them. And for the record, safe isn’t the word that comes to mind where you’re concerned.” He threw her the zinger on purpose, looking forward to her swatting it back at him. This woman was definitely something. “On a separate subject. I’ve had a burning question on my mind the entire time I was taking pictures.”
“Burning?” she said. “Do I dare ask?”
He didn’t give her a chance to decide. “Where exactly,” he whispered, leaning down, his mouth near her ear, “do you keep your gun in this dress?”
“Luke.” Her hand flattened on his chest. “Will you please behave?”
His hand closed over hers, pinning it against his body, where he wanted it, where he wanted her. Soon. Not soon enough. “Answer my question, and I promise to be good. For a while. If you really want me to.”
She tried to glare at him but erupted in a smile instead. “Like I said, you’re impossible. And no, I won’t tell you. A girl has her secrets.”
“And a man, his fantasies,” he countered, wondering if it was strapped beneath a garter. Was she wearing thigh-highs? “I’m going to be thinking about where to find that gun all night, you know?”
“Oh, good,” came a female voice. “There you are.”
Luke cringed at the sound of the voice behind him and turned.
“Olivia,” he said, acknowledging the PR rep whom the team owner had hired after Luke’s embezzlement scandal had rocked the headlines. “I didn’t expect you tonight. I thought a charity event would have been good enough press without your help.” His hand stayed possessively at Katie’s back. Olivia was a money-grubbing fame mogul, like so many women he’d encountered in the past ten years. “Katie. This is Olivia Cantu. She’s—”
“The Rainmaker,” Olivia supplied, her normal, big ego in play. An ego that matched her ample cleavage, exposed within a millimeter of being unprofessional. “I’m the one who spins all the stories into jewels rather than media-shattering craters.” She cast Katie a look down her nose. “Would you be my latest crater?”
“I’d be Katie Lyons,” Katie said, taking the impolite comment impressively in stride. “Luke’s date…and I’d prefer to be neither a jewel nor a crater, thus why I rarely attend these events.”
Olivia frowned. “You make that sound like you’ve been around awhile.” Her gaze shifted suspiciously toward Luke.
“She’s been my jewel in hiding for some time now, Olivia. I didn’t want her exposed to the nightmare of my bad press.”
Olivia gave Katie a judgmental up-and-down inspection that oozed jealousy before fixing her attention on Luke again, speaking as if Katie were not present.
“The press’ll be talking about this new date of yours,” she said, flipping a long lock of blond hair out of her heavily made-up eye. “After that disaster with your last girlfriend, I need something to work with here.” She glanced at Katie. “I’m sorry.” She didn’t sound sorry. “But we don’t need another catastrophe. I need to know who I’m dealing with.”
Instantly, Luke felt the subtle stiffening of Katie’s back. Olivia was supposed to stop problems from occurring, not create them. And damn it, he reveled in the competitiveness of his sport on the field, but off the field, he was sick of the jealousy and competition. The game wasn’t about the fancy team jet, or who had the most groupies, or who drove what car, yet plenty of people made it about all those things and more.
In that moment, Luke respected and appreciated how untouched Katie was by all of the bullshit around him, despite having rubbed elbows with plenty of celebrities in her past.
Protectiveness for Katie rose inside him, and yes, a selfish need to keep her untouched that he didn’t deny. “There is absolutely nothing about Katie to worry about, Olivia,” he said through clenched teeth. “For once, try simply answering with ‘no comment,’ or how about this? Tell them I’m crazy hot for Katie. Take that to the press and let them roll with it. Or I’ll do it myself.” He grabbed Katie’s hand and started walking.
Olivia and Katie both gasped. Olivia stepped in front of them. “Luke—don’t go saying crazy things to the press just to spite me,” Olivia said. “Wilcox won’t be happy about that.” Wilcox being the team owner.
He arched a brow. “Why would I have any reason to spite you, Olivia?”
She opened her mouth and shut it. Then, “Just watch what you say.”
He glanced at Katie. “Let’s go find a table.” They headed down a narrow, carpeted hallway, and Luke cast Katie a furtive glance. “I’m sorry.”
“I’ve dealt with my share of Olivias,” she assured him, keeping pace with him. “And for the record, I thought of a good five or ten biting remarks for that woman and said not a one of them, but you might have gone a bit far with the crazy hot thing.”
He stopped, turned to her. “It was the truth.”
Surprise washed over her face and she visibly paled. “Luke. No. Stop. Don’t you understand? I can’t protect you when you’re making me…”
“Crazy hot?”
“Crazy,” she corrected quickly. “You’re making me crazy.”
His lips tilted upward. “Then I’ll get to work on the wild-and-hot part.”
A flash of light suddenly flickered around them, the sound of voices as reporters swarmed them. Katie quipped, “I’d say the ‘hot’ is safely on ice considering there’s an audience.”
He winked. “Don’t count on it, sweetheart.”
***
AN HOUR LATER, Luke had finished a heart-wrenching speech that told Katie there was so much more to him than she’d imagined possible. And while he was signing autographs, she worked the crowd, looking for suspects.
At present she danced with Chris Allen, a thirty-something, money-grubbing sports agent whom she’d known for years. Listening to him rattle his own chain and tell her how much Luke Winter and Joey Martin needed him—no matter how many times she assured him she had no influence over either—was pure torture. Good grief, she was ready to leave. The party and this world.
She’d forgotten how easily every breath she drew had been about Joey when she’d been with him. And how much Joey had eaten that up, too. He’d loved being the center of the universe. And she’d done nothing but feed his ego, and his desires. She’d come to hate Joey, though she hadn’t realized it until months after their separation, when she’d finally rediscovered herself.
She’d like to think she’d grown since then, that she was older, more capable of retaining her own identity with a man like Luke than she had been before. That—if Luke wasn’t a client and off-limits—she could be with him without losing her identity. Part of her was tempted to find out. Another wanted to leave the past in the past.
“Can I cut in?”
The male voice that lifted above the jazz tune came with both relief and trepidation, as Chris turned his attention on Luke. Immediately, Chris’s eyes lit up, and he reached in his pocket, withdrew a card. “We should talk.” He beamed. “Katie and I go way back.”
Luke ignored the card. “Tonight is for the kids, man,” Luke said, disapproval on his face. “No business.” He slid his arms around Katie, turned her in to the mix of the dancing couples.
“Thank you,” Katie said, her gaze flickering to those sparkling gray eyes and quickly away. It would be so easy to get lost in his stare. “I can’t stand that man.”
“Good,” Luke said, his legs brushing hers, his body warm and inviting. “Because neither can I. He can’t seem to get the idea that I’m not interested.”
“Wait,” Katie said, her fingers digging into his jacket. “How long has he been pursuing you? Since before the letters started?”
He paused a minute and then spun her around. “You think Chris is writing the letters?” he asked in disbelief.
The soft, gentle rhythm of their bodies moving together fogged Katie’s brain for a second, the sway of his hips against hers making it hard to think. “Maybe,” she said, gently clearing her throat. “What if he wants to destroy your career so he can recreate it? We both know he’s willing to do whatever’s necessary to get ahead. He’s that type. It has to be considered.” Just as Olivia was possibly looking to create juicy gossip that made her, and her job, necessary, as well. Or Olivia might simply want Luke period. Katie could see her as an obsessive stalker, but she didn’t say that for fear Luke would accuse her of sounding jealous. She wasn’t jealous, because really, truthfully, there was something not right about that girl that reached beyond her silicone double-D breasts and too-perfect body. Both Chris and Olivia were going on the list of people Katie had begun compiling for Donna to investigate.
A flash of a camera, and Katie and Luke were once again being photographed. Luke grimaced at the camera holder. “I know that guy,” he said. “He’s with some low-life gossip magazine.” He maneuvered her farther onto the crowded dance floor. “No matter how grand the cause, the wolves and cameras are out in full force. It can’t just be about the kids.”
“You didn’t seem to mind the cameras and the spotlight earlier,” she said skeptically. “You worked the room like you owned it up on that stage.”
“Every minute I’m in front of the cameras is like tying a string to a tooth and slamming a door,” he said. “Painful.”
“Yet you play pro ball. In front of thousands. On national television…you’re always in the spotlight.”
“I love baseball,” he said. “And the spotlight is a part of competing on a professional level. But I’m a country boy at heart. I like quiet. I like privacy. Until all that crap with my manager, you never saw me in the papers. I spend my time off away from the limelight. The cameras, the fancy parties—I don’t want anything to do with them unless I have to.” His hand slid more intimately around her back, her stomach fluttering with reaction. He tilted his head, studied her. “You seem surprised.”
Maybe she was. She didn’t know what to expect from Luke. Ron had said Luke was a good ol’ boy. A private, nice, down-to-earth guy. Then, Ron had introduced her to a big, egomaniac jerk. Which one was accurate? Which was a show?
“You’re emcee tonight,” she said, trying to find an answer to that question. “That hardly seems like avoiding the limelight.”
His expression darkened, the flutter of overhead lights casting his face in shadows. “For one reason and one reason only,” he said. “And that reason is Elvin Rogers. A kid that had one last wish—to meet me.”
Katie stopped dancing, her heart in her chest. “Did you? Meet him?”
He nodded. “Yeah. I met him. I was with him the day he died.”
Respect for Luke she hadn’t thought possible the night before expanded inside her. “Oh, Luke. I’m so sorry.” She’d told herself she’d put the past behind her before meeting Luke, but then she’d judged him by his career, which was wrong. That didn’t mean he was some crown prince, but it meant, from now on, he deserved to be judged for who he was, not for her expectations of who he was.
“Excuse me.” Suddenly, Rick Raundo, the Italian-American right fielder on Luke’s team, was by their side. He was tall and dark, with a nose that was a bit on the large side and a sense of humor even larger. Katie liked him instantly and had talked to him through much of dinner. “They want Luke here for one last photo op,” Rick said, his hand coming down on Luke’s shoulder. “Grin and bear it, man. It’s with the president of the Leukemia Association.” Rick smiled at Katie. “I’ll stay behind and defend Katie from any media attacks.”
Luke grimaced and cast Katie a warning look. “Watch out for his wandering hands,” he said, and leaned close. “We’ll escape right after I finish up.” He surprised her by kissing her, a short, sweet caress of the lips, and he was gone before she could stop him.
Rick immediately turned his attention to Katie. But this wasn’t the Rick from dinner, all full of laughter and jokes.
“Look, Katie,” he said, his tone dark, his expression darker. “You seem like a nice person, and I get that you’re here to protect Luke and all. But don’t go getting him all worked up over these letters and screwing with his game. Baseball is everything to Luke.”
For the second time, Katie found herself blindsided. “Excuse me?”
“Do your job and beyond, for all I care,” Rick said. Beyond implying sex, without question. “But don’t try to freak Luke out.”
“Go back to the ‘while you’re protecting him’ part,” she ground out between her teeth, ignoring the couple crowding them. “What does that mean?”
“I know who you are,” he said. “He told me you—”
“Don’t!” she said, poking a finger at his chest. “Do not say it out loud. Don’t say it to anyone. Do you hear me?”
She was already storming away from Rick. Luke wasn’t supposed to tell anyone who she was or why she was here. She was furious with him. She couldn’t protect him when he wasn’t cooperating. And she couldn’t protect him when she kept thinking about getting him naked, either.
Rick caught up with her quickly. “Katie, dammit.”
She motioned him to a corner, away from the crowd.
“I want you to think about this,” Rick said, his voice low, terse. “But if someone is trying to ruin Luke’s career, bringing you in here to make this into a big deal is only making it worse.”
The only thing keeping Katie from wringing Rick’s neck was that she believed he had good intentions, no matter how misplaced. He was worried about Luke.
“I’m here to protect him, Rick, and yes, those letters might be about messing with his head and his game and that’s it, but—”
“What else could it be?” Rick challenged.
“If you’re wrong and there’s a real threat,” Katie said, “Luke could get hurt. Is that what you want? Luke dead because you were protecting his career?”
“Oh, man, Katie,” Rick said. “The ‘dead’ card is unfair.”
“So is the ‘guilt’ card,” Katie countered.
He scrubbed his jaw. “All I’m asking is that you keep whatever you do low-key with Luke. Be as intense as you want when he’s not around, but let him stay focused on his game.”
“What’s going on, you two?” Luke said, walking up beside them.
“Katie?” Rick asked urgently, ignoring Luke.
She shook her head. “I’ll do my best.”
Rick nodded. “I’m out of here,” he said to Luke. “See you later, man.”
Luke frowned. “Do your best at what?” he asked Katie.
She tilted her chin up. “Is there anyone else who knows who I am that I should be aware of, Luke?”
He scanned the room for Rick, who’d already pulled a disappearing act, and then turned his attention back at Katie. “I can explain—”
“Is there anyone else?”
“No.”
“Can we leave now?”
He opened his mouth to speak and then shut it. “Kissing you wouldn’t solve anything, would it?”
“Besides getting you that knee you’ve been asking for?” she challenged. “Nope.”
“It might be worth it,” he said, his hand reaching for her.
“Or it might just give Olivia something to explain to the press. I’d love to see how she spins it—‘New girlfriend knees Luke Winter in the groin, swears she tripped and fell.’”
He gave one long nod. “No kiss.”
Her agreement was instant. “No kiss.”
They started walking, and he leaned closer. “I think we should talk about this in the truck.”
“You can drive,” she said. “I’ll talk.” It was time for Luke Winter to understand this was business and she was in control. The kisses would have to wait until this assignment was over, and she planned to tell him so.
***
AS SOON AS they were safely tucked inside Luke’s truck, away from the crowd, Katie began her lecture, and Luke took his verbal bashing in silence, for the most part. He didn’t believe for a minute that she didn’t want him to kiss her again, nor did he believe they could be together and not do so. To pretend otherwise was setting them both up for problems better avoided.
With that in mind, the moment they were inside his front door and he’d flipped on the security system, Luke quickly grabbed her hand, even as she headed for her escape, toward the stairs. A moment later he was leaning against the front door with her in his arms, and before she could object, he slid his fingers into the silky mass of her hair as he’d longed to do all night.
“Pretending to date and leaving out the kissing isn’t going to work.” And with that announcement, he kissed her, a deep, passionate kiss that he wanted to have go on and on—as in all night. Maybe beyond. He couldn’t get enough of this woman. Not of her taste or the soft, sweet moans she made when he kissed her just right—which was apparently now.
Luke was about sixty seconds from picking her up and carrying her to his room when he forced himself to end the kiss. “That’s why it won’t work. Because both of us like it too much.” He took a step away from her. “You’re supposed to be dating me. So date me. Focus on meeting the people around me and decide who is trustworthy and who is not, rather than what you should or should not be doing with me. And let your staff do the high-tech security stuff.”
She swallowed hard. “It’s not that simple and you know it.”
“It is that simple,” he insisted. “Sleep on it, Katie. Think about it before your staff gets here. We’ll talk tomorrow.” He stepped around her and headed up the stairs in search of a cold shower, or maybe two.