Chapter Twenty-One

Luke had spent much of the night working until the details blurred and Stefan had told him to piss off and get some sleep. He’d meant to take the elevator straight up to the apartment and his own room, but instead found himself heading back to the control center.

He had no intention of going to her again tonight. From now on, he’d maintain his distance. Callum was right. What did he really know about her?

Even so, he found himself switching on the monitor to her room, where she lay curled up on the bed, still wrapped in the towel. It looked like she hadn’t moved in over three hours, her eyes wide open and staring.

A wave of tenderness washed over him. The feeling shocked him to the core. He wished he could deny it, but if life had taught him one thing, it was to face problems head on and never ignore them. Jenna Young was a problem. The question was—did he allow her to become a bigger problem? Or did he get rid of her before that could happen? He could hand her over to Callum. Callum would keep her safe if Luke asked him.

But he couldn’t do it. He needed her close by.

Finally, he acknowledged that she moved something inside him, something he hadn’t felt since Leah. He waited for the surge of pain that always accompanied thoughts of his dead wife, but the pain had become a distant memory muted by time into a dull ache.

Jenna was here, now, in the present. Maybe Callum was right—he was about to rejoin the human race, and his timing was as bad as it could get.

He wouldn’t allow himself to care. That wasn’t who he was, but at the same time, this didn’t have to be a catastrophe. Jenna was involved with Descartes, and his best bet of finding out how, and using that to his benefit, was to keep her close and earn her trust.

He switched off the monitor and headed up toward the penthouse.

…

The door clicked open, and a figure stood silhouetted in the brighter light from the hallway. Jenna didn’t move, but her pulse sped up, and every muscle locked rigid. But once she recognized Luke, the tight knot of tension inside her unwound a little.

She scrambled upright, holding the towel across her breasts, and glanced at the clock on the table beside the bed. Over three hours had passed, though that seemed impossible.

“Is everything okay?”

Luke didn’t answer. He stepped into the room, and the door swung shut behind him, leaving them in the dim light spilling out from the bathroom. Hands shoved into his pockets, he crossed the room to stand beside the bed and stared down at her.

“What is it?” she asked. “Has something else happened?”

“I wanted to check you were all right. Are you?”

At the question, the tension inside her snapped. Apart from her father, in her whole life, no one had really cared how she was. That was her fault; she kept people at a distance. Her illness had always been a secret, an invisible barrier between her and anyone who might come close. But Luke knew. Although they’d known each other only a short time, he probably knew her better than anyone else alive.

Before, she hadn’t been able to cry. Now, tears poured down her face. She sniffed, trying to hold them back.

Luke sank onto the bed beside her, pulled her onto his lap and into his arms as he had done the night before. That same sense of safety engulfed her, and she curled herself into a ball and gave in to the flood of anguish that washed over her.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just held her tight.

In the end, she ran out of tears. Exhausted, she leaned her head against his chest. The sense of safety vanished to be replaced by something new. A slow heat burned into life low down in her belly as she squirmed in his arms, needing to get closer, and for a moment, they tightened around her.

Loosening his hold on her, he sat up straighter. His hands slid around her waist so he could lift her and place her on the bed. Bereft, Jenna wanted to reach out for him, to hold on to him. It was more than not wanting to be alone; she no longer wanted sex with some anonymous stranger as she had in the past.

She wanted Luke.

He rose to his feet and peered down at her, his eyes gleaming in the darkness, and she stretched out a hand to him. “Don’t leave me.”

When he didn’t move, she dropped her hand to the knot holding the towel at her breasts. Her fingers trembled, refusing to behave, but finally the towel loosened and fell away, leaving her naked before him.

Logically, she knew she was beautiful but had always felt flawed. Now she held her breath, waiting for him to respond, half expecting him to walk away.

“Please, Luke.”

His hand went to the buttons of his shirt and slipped the top one open. Some of the tension inside her relaxed as he slowly stripped the shirt and tossed it to the floor. He was lean but powerfully built, the muscles ridged over his abdomen.

Some sort of scar ran down his right side, and a tattoo decorated his right arm, but she couldn’t make it out in the dim light.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked.

At his words, her gaze flew to his face to find him watching her as though he could see inside her mind. She shook her head because she wasn’t sure about anything anymore. But at the same time, she reached out for him…

Their lovemaking was hard and fast and fierce and forced everything else from her mind. Afterward, he collapsed and rolled onto his side, dragging her with him.

Normally at this point she would get up, leave the bed, and get away from the man as quickly as possible.

But not with Luke. Instead, she wrapped her arms around him and burrowed her face against his chest. Breathing in the musky scent of sex, she felt at peace for the first time since she had seen David’s body two nights ago.

…

Luke felt her go soft and boneless against him. His body was totally relaxed, but something niggled at his mind, and he realized with a start that he felt cheated, used. The thought almost made him smile. Although he was all for role reversal, he wasn’t sure he liked this one.

But he understood why she had acted as she had.

He’d used sex the same way, many times. Used it to block out the bad memories for a little while. But casual sex always left him with a feeling of emptiness, and now, he was filled with the need to make her see him as more than just a means to forget—he wanted to be someone she would remember.

She was the most beautiful woman he had ever slept with. Probably the most beautiful he had ever seen. As he pulled away to look into her face, a shiver of unease ran through him.

Truth was, she was almost too perfect. Her bone structure was flawless, her skin without blemish, her nose straight, her mouth ideally proportioned.

Her eyes were closed, and they blinked open as if she could sense his stare. “What?”

He smiled. “I was thinking how perfect you are.”

Some emotion flickered across her face. “I’m not perfect. I might look okay, but it’s a pretty, pointless facade that covers up the crap underneath. I’m flawed, about as far from perfect as it’s possible to get.”

The bitterness in her voice was clear. For a moment, he had no clue what she was talking about. Then he remembered. He hadn’t thought much about her illness since she’d mentioned it yesterday, but now he realized how big a part it played in her life and in her perceptions of herself as a person.

“It’s a small part of you. It’s not who you are.”

The moment she opened her mouth to protest, he stopped the words with a kiss.

This time their lovemaking was slow and erotic. And afterward, she fell asleep in his arms almost immediately. Luke held her close while her limbs relaxed.

He should get up, go do some research. Start analyzing the information they had retrieved from Merrick’s house. Instead, as he had the night before, he held Jenna tight and closed his eyes.