LUCINDA LAY ON her side, the sheets pulled up to her chin, the blissful, cool, soft cotton of the hotel pillow against her cheek. She couldn’t keep the smile from her face even if she wanted to.
For after the bed there’d been the shower. Angus had joined her there and… Oh, my.
Once he’d dried her off with a big, white fluffy towel, the friction making havoc with her already overloaded senses, he’d found an old T-shirt in her suitcase—as if he knew the black, lacy ribbon thing wasn’t really her, and helped her into it. Then he’d proceeded to lift her onto the bathroom bench and… Oh, wow.
Lucinda felt the side of the bed depress as Angus sat beside her. Barely able to keep her eyes open, she managed a, “Mmm…?”
She waited for him to kiss her on the shoulder before making a stealthy exit. She’d always imagined that would very much be Angus’s MO: no sleepovers, no false expectations. But all her imaginings so far had not even come close to the reality.
Instead, he lifted the sheet, tucked himself in behind her, bare bar his black boxer shorts, slid his arm over her and pulled her close.
She was spooning. With Angus. And she decided then and there that reality was far better than fantasy.
“Angus?” she said, her voice hoarse.
“Hmm,” he hummed against the back of her neck.
“Why did you come here last night? There was something you were in an all-fired rush to tell me—”
“Right. It was Remède,” he said. “I’d forgotten… Distracted as I was by other things.”
“Really. I hadn’t noticed.”
He nipped the tendon between her neck and shoulder, and when she cried out, he kissed the spot till she was purring once more.
“I’d had a breakthrough,” he murmured.
“Tell me about it.”
“Now?” he asked, and she could hear the smile in his voice.
She turned onto her back so she could look him in the eye. “I’d like to know.”
He nuzzled his nose into her hair before lifting up onto his elbow, his head resting in his palm. That face, she thought, her heart stuttering at the sight of him. His nearness. The unusual ease of his expression, the full glory of the man behind the mask.
“Elena, of all people, said something that reminded me of something you’d said,” he murmured, his finger now tracing the edge of her arm, the curve of her shoulder, the rise of her neck. “The Japanese pottery tradition where they use gold dust to highlight the repairs, not conceal them?”
“Kintsukuroi.” She loved that fact. It had helped her through so many of the mistakes, the bad times, the regrets—imagining the mental scars healing with rivers of gold.
“Taking Remède back to its core construct, that’s what it’s all about. It isn’t about covering up a woman’s flaws. Hiding them behind a ‘dewy glow’ or fancy ‘protein bond repeating serums’.”
Wow, he really had been paying attention at the conference.
“So what is Remède about?’
“You.”
“Me?”
“You and your mother’s perfume. It’s about making a woman feel special while also feeling very much herself. Whether by way of a scent that sweeps her back to sweeter times, or a lip colour that makes her feel loved, makes her remember to smile. Remède—with its tastefulness, its poignancy, its longevity—is the gold dust, the through line, that holds their best memories together.”
It was a wonder that this big, quiet, self-possessed giant of a man could think that way. It took tenderness. It took heart.
Lucinda reached up and slid her hand behind his neck, pulled him down to kiss her.
Goodness knew how much later, voice croaky, he murmured against her mouth, “I take it that means you think I’m on the right track?”
“You, Angus Wolfe, are a wonder. When, hundreds of years from now, you finally depart this mortal coil that brain of yours ought to be bronzed. Or, better yet, studied. No, replicated. For the betterment of mankind.”
“Only my brain?”
“Well, I can think of some other parts of you that are pretty good too.”
Angus settled himself over her, his gaze boring into hers, his expression so sincere it took all her power not to burst into tears.
Then he said, “I’m not sure what I did in a past life to deserve you, Lucinda Starling, but whatever it was I’m very glad I did it.”
And then he kissed her, and held her, and cherished her. And when she finally fell asleep she didn’t dream. She didn’t need to.
* * *
Angus shut the door to Lucinda’s hotel room with a soft click. Then he closed his eyes and leaned back against the door.
The hall was thankfully quiet, the guests no doubt all enjoying a Sunday morning lie-in, as dawn only just peeked over the hills beyond.
Watching Lucinda as he’d dressed, the pre-dawn light shining softly golden over the familiar curves of her face, the urge to wake her with a kiss, a touch, a caress—to make love to her again, or simply to see that look in her eyes when she saw him there—had been so strong he’d had to breathe his way through it.
Strong feelings were not his forte. Not when it came to his private life. They confused, they encouraged bad decisions. So, he’d left her be.
Leaning against the door he took a few moments to think. To plan out what steps to take next. For there was no map for where he’d just been. No tried and true strategy to fall back on.
Only, his mind remained blank. Empty. He felt light, washed clean. The kind of clean that meant he could smell flowers from a mile away. Could see colours he’d never seen before. Like the world after a storm.
Lucinda’s I’ve wanted this for longer than I can remember ran on a loop inside his head. She’d wanted it. Wanted him. Said if he didn’t know it already he wasn’t as smart as he thought he was.
What he hadn’t said was, “Right back at you.”
From the very first moment he’d seen her waiting to interview at the Big Picture Group offices, he’d known she was different from anyone he’d ever met. Her light had been bewitching. He’d felt he had no choice but to invite her into his life.
But even as their friendship had deepened, even as she’d become intrinsic to his life, he’d held back that one last part of himself. Broken, burned and unwilling to burden anyone with his scars, he’d held back—especially from someone as light and lovely as Lucinda.
Until last night, seeing her walk towards him in that dress, he’d given in. Given up. Given over to her.
A shiver rolled down his back, landing with a hot thrum of energy in his gut, as he imagined a life in which he’d resisted. In which he’d never known the taste of her, the feel of her, the sounds she made when she was really happy.
Then he heard a noise somewhere down the hall.
Within a second he recognised the pair of people hunched over against the wall several doors down.
Cat—hair wild, barefoot, wearing what looked like a onesie—was down on her haunches, her hands resting on Sonny’s knees as he sat leaning against the wall. Crying.
Without thinking, Angus jogged their way, calling out, “Cat?”
Cat stood, groaning as her knees cracked.
Sonny shot Angus a wet glance before wiping his eyes with a sleeve.
“Everything okay?” he asked Cat as he neared, keeping his voice down.
“He took off out of the room while I was in the bathroom,” Cat said, looking chagrined. “Bad dream. Not like him. Could be something he ate. The strange room. Or the dinosaur movie marathon we watched last night.”
Angus shot her a look.
Cat shrugged. “Either or.”
“Mmm… Hey, bud,” Angus said, crouching down but glancing past the kid, trying to look as casual as all get-out. For he’d hated being fussed over when he had been upset at that age. It had only made him feel as if he was under a spotlight. As if showing how he felt had been wrong somehow.
Sonny sniffed.
“Bit early for a hike, don’t you think?”
A quick glance saw Sonny’s mouth doing its best to turn down. “I wasn’t hiking. I was looking for Mum.”
“She’s asleep, bud. But you know she’ll come see you the minute she’s awake.”
He glanced up at Cat to find she was glaring down the hall in the direction whence he’d come. She then gave him a swift once over, no doubt taking in the crumpled suit, the time of day. Her eyes narrowed as she put the pieces together with ease.
Then she crooked a finger at him and took a few paces away, tapping a foot on the floor till he joined her.
Her voice lowered to a hiss. “Please tell me I did not just catch you on a walk of shame…from my sister’s room.”
He slid his hands into his suit pockets. “Not sure that’s any of your business.”
Even while he could honestly have said no. For he felt no shame. No regret.
“What the hell were you thinking?” Cat asked, her voice rising.
“Cat,” he warned. “Not the time or place.” Angus looked to Sonny, whose tears had dried up and who was watching them carefully over the tops of his knees.
But Cat, who looked as if she’d had about as much sleep as Sonny, wasn’t having it. “And I thought you were smarter than this. Well, I hoped, and prayed and begged whatever gods might be listening that even if she drank the Angus Wolfe Kool-Aid, you were experienced enough to make sure nothing ever happened. Why couldn’t you have just left her the hell alone this weekend?”
Wasn’t the first time Angus had been told point blank he wasn’t good enough, but it was the first time in a long time, and the inviolable walls that usually buffeted such assaults, had been put away for the night.
Glaring at Cat, he kept his voice low. “Because she deserves better than some schmuck who cancels dates, spends half his time on the phone and says ‘fine’ when she tells him she might have to work instead of go away with him!”
“And you think that you can do better?”
Angus ran a hand through his hair.
“That you can be there for her, heart and soul, one hundred percent?” Catriona laughed, the sound completely lacking in humour. “Luc is your assistant. And that’s it. Weird crush dynamic you’ve had going on for years notwithstanding. Her real life is with us. Me and the kid. The people she can count on to be there for her. Always. Unless you can promise me right here and now that you’re in it for the long haul, for better or worse, putting her first, before the job, then cut your losses and move on now.”
Angus’s gut churned at Catriona’s demands. And, while his usual method would be to rock back, to make it clear how little he cared, how little he could be impacted by the whims of other people, this time he leaned in.
“Luc means the world to me, Cat. Her happiness, Sonny’s happiness, are more important to me than my own. And you know it.”
Cat’s eyes flared. Surprisingly in triumph.
But he was too riled to make sense of it. “She’s the closest thing I have to family. I can’t lose her. I won’t. It would do me in. What I’ve achieved, what I’ve earned, what I’ve learned…without her none of it would be worthwhile.”
The world was quiet for a beat, before Catriona coughed out a laugh. Then she crossed her arms and said, “Well, it’s about time.”
While Angus tried to figure out why Cat was looking so bloody smug, Lucinda’s voice floated towards them. “What on earth’s going on out here?”
Angus turned to find Lucinda padding down the hall, wrapping herself in an old, tasselled, dark-green pashmina that fell below her knees. He’d seen her wearing it more than a dozen times before when they’d shared suites at conferences. After she’d taken him in when he’d been sick. In hospital when they’d thought Sonny might have had pneumonia.
He’d thought seeing her in her magical green dress for the first time had been a watershed moment. But this…watching her walk towards him in that ancient wrap, looking flustered, soft and well-ravished—by him—made looking at her in that dress feel like a walk in the park.
He felt himself smiling from way down deep inside. If only she’d look his way, she’d know it. She’d feel it. That everything had changed. And it was all okay.
But, before Cat or Angus could fashion a sane answer to her reasonable question, Sonny was on his feet, bolting into her arms.
Lucinda held the kid tight, running her hands over his head and down his back, before leaning down and lifting his face to hers. Checking with her special mother powers to make sure he was in one piece before planting a big kiss on his hair.
Then she looked up at the grown-ups and mouthed, “What happened?”
Cat moved towards Lucinda and Sonny, putting a hand on the kid’s shoulder. “Sonny came looking for you. I went looking for him. And found Angus. Skulking down the hall.”
Lucinda’s brow furrowed, her hands moving to cover Sonny’s ears. But she still wouldn’t look Angus’s way.
“You okay, buddy?” she asked, attention back on her son. “Did you want something? Or did you just miss me? You know if you wanted me you only had to ask Auntie Cat to call and I’d have come to you in a heartbeat.”
“I had a bad dream. That friend of yours, the one who was meant to come away with you, was chasing me and tried to eat me.”
Lucinda’s eyes were wide as she looked at Cat, who bit at a fingernail.
“He asked. When you told him you were going away for the weekend, he asked why he couldn’t come too. I told him you had a friend staying with you.”
“Cat. Seriously?
“I panicked!”
Lucinda held Sonny tighter. “My friend Jameson doesn’t eat meat, so you’re perfectly safe.”
“I don’t want him to be my new dad.”
“Oh, honey bunny. That’s just fine because he won’t be. Is that what you thought was happening this weekend?”
Sonny nodded, fresh tears pouring down his sweet face. “If I have to have a new dad, why can’t it be Angus?”
All three adults held their breath as Sonny’s bombshell landed with what felt like a sonic boom.
“Angus?” said Lucinda, recovering quickest. “Sweetie, Angus can’t be your dad.”
“But why not?” Sonny begged, his bottom lip quivering as he looked to Angus with eyes filled with wishes and tears.
Angus had long since had a zillion reasons lined up as to why he would never be a father, for not a single “father” who’d waltzed in and out of his life had made the job seem appealing, but in that moment he couldn’t think of one. Not when the urge came over him simply to step in, wrap them both up tightly and vow to protect them from anyone who made them sad. Anyone who dared make either one of them cry.
But it was not Angus’s place to have a say. Angus who was now pulling his leg hairs through the pockets of his suit pants to keep from doing something or saying something. It was Lucinda’s job. Only Lucinda’s. If he’d learnt anything from being in Sonny’s shoes, it was that.
“Why?” Lucinda repeated, her face collapsing as she saw the earnest plea in Sonny’s expression. “Because he’s Angus. He, um… He doesn’t cook, for one thing, and a dad needs to be able to cook.”
“You don’t cook.”
“I do! Just not very well. I’d bet the house that Angus can’t boil an egg. And he…ah…he certainly doesn’t clean. And you know how much cleaning I have to do. A dad would have to help me with that. What else? Angus never buys his own groceries. Or answers his own phone. He’s too busy to coach your footy team. Or read to you every night. Angus can’t be your dad, hon, because he’s practically a big kid himself.”
Angus knew Lucinda was trying to soften things for Sonny, to bring him down from the ledge, yet with every reason she gave it felt like death by a thousand cuts. Everything she said was true. To a point. But the fact that the litany of reasons why he could never take on that role in their lives had been on the tip of her tongue spoke volumes.
Sonny sniffed. “But you tell me all the time the most important ingredient in making a family is love. And you love Angus. And I love him. And Cat loves him.”
Cat snorted.
“We do, hon,” Lucinda said, flicking her sister a look. But not Angus. If only she’d look at him. Just for a beat. Her smile could include him, temper her words. Maybe this was salvageable. But no. Her attention went right back to her son. “Angus is one of our very best friends. But it takes more than tickles and bad jokes and a mad footy boot to be a dad. It takes patience and compatibility and commitment. He would have to want it more than anything else in the world. And you know how much Angus loves his job and his nice clean apartment and his me-time. Besides, Uncle Angus has to learn how to take care of himself before he can be entrusted to take care of anyone else.”
Even Cat flinched at that last twist of the knife.
While Lucinda smiled down at Sonny as if delighted at having navigated a potential disaster.
“Come on, kid,” said Cat, holding out a hand to Sonny before leading him down the hall to their room. “Let’s order something gross and sugary from room service. Mum will be along in a minute.”
And soon it was just the two of them. Angus and Lucinda. And finally, she looked his way. Her eyes heavy. Her mouth soft. The weight of the night before once more wrapped itself around him like a siren song.
“I’m so sorry about all that,” she said, twisting and untwisting a corner of her wrap.
“You have nothing to apologise for,” he said, his voice sounding as if it was coming from someone else.
“Yeah, I do. I ought to have seen that coming. And I never wanted you to feel uncomfortable, or beholden, or put in a position where—”
“I didn’t. I don’t. He’s a great kid, and I… I love him right on back.” The moment the words left his mouth, Angus felt light-headed, as if he’d been blowing up a balloon for too long. But he was still grounded enough to see Lucinda startle.
“I know,” she said. “I know you do.”
But when she smiled he saw only flashes of the Lucinda from the night before. Heat and desire and such sweetness it made his skin hurt. And the deeper feelings they’d both secretly held onto for years.
But there was a resoluteness there now as well. Her mind was with her son now, or it very much wanted to be.
Her son. Her number one priority. From day one she’d made that clear. And it was one of the reasons he was so taken with her.
Long-ago promises he’d made to himself and to his own mother kicked in, and instead of hauling Lucinda into his arms and attempting to unravel all that he was feeling, sensing and experiencing that morning he did what he’d always done.
He deferred to her.
He slid his hands into his pockets and causally leaned against the hallway wall. “You’re okay for a lift home?” he said.
He hated himself when she flinched. When she finally seemed to pick up on the coolness in his voice.
“I drove, remember?” she said. “Cast aside last minute, as I was, by my date.”
He nodded. “Head off early, if you’d like. I can finish up here. Sonny looks like he needs you.”
“Right. Thanks. No reason to stick around any longer now, I guess.”
No, he thought, with chagrin, none at all. Not the fact you admitted that you’ve wanted me for a long time. Not the fact that we just spent all night in one another’s arms. And not the fact that it’s taking every single ion of power I have not to haul you into my arms and beg you to stay.
But no one would be any the wiser. For he was an expert at concealment. At hiding such strong feelings. It was safer that way. Easier for all.
“I’ll leave you to it, then, shall I?”
She swallowed, her eyes bright, conflicted and beautiful.
They could get past this. They were friends. They were practical. They were too enmeshed in one another’s lives for it to be any other way.
“See you tomorrow?” she said.
“Tomorrow,” he returned, then he pushed away from the wall and strolled away.