It Was Only a Kiss

NINE



Jess managed to shower, get dressed and stagger downstairs. Her family were due to arrive in a few hours and she had to sort out the manor house. She wanted to air the rooms, put flowers in them, and she needed to go to town to stock up on food and drink. And morphine, and other Class A, B and C drugs, because her hands and knees throbbed continually and every step she took radiated pain into her cut.

Jess walked into the kitchen, walked around Luke, who was stacking dishes into the dishwasher, and headed for the coffee machine. He’d been wonderful last night—tender, protective, sweet. And when he’d climbed into his bed next to her he’d been careful of her all night. She remembered him forcing more painkillers down her some time during the early hours of the morning, a warm hand patting her hip when she briefly surfaced to protest against the pain.

Hearing her approach Luke turned away from the fridge and sent her a smile. ‘I was just going to bring you some coffee.’

Jess pushed her hair off her face. ‘Thank you for cleaning me up last night.’

‘No problem.’ Luke handed her a cup of coffee. ‘How are you feeling?’

‘Like I had a close encounter with a road.’

‘That good, huh?’ Luke jerked out a chair and sat down at the kitchen table. He poured cereal into a bowl and added milk. He gestured to the box with his spoon. ‘Help yourself. You’re probably starving.’

Jess took the seat opposite him. She dashed muesli into her bowl. ‘Not so much. But I need to eat so that I can take some more painkillers.’

‘No more drugs until we get you to the doctor. You have an appointment in forty-five minutes.’

Jess waited for the familiar spurt of anger she always experienced when men told her what to do. It didn’t come and she cocked her head. Strange. Maybe she was accepting his bossiness because he’d been so utterly wonderful last night.

Jess rubbed her forehead. ‘Do you really think it’s necessary?’

‘Yes. If you don’t get stitches it’ll take that much longer to heal and it will scar horribly. Your legs are gorgeous, Blondie, let’s try to keep them that way.’

Jess wrinkled her nose. ‘It’s just that my family are arriving later and I have so much to do.’

‘Like what?’

‘Shopping for food and wine—’

‘Friends of mine own the deli on Main Street. You can phone an order in, they’ll get it ready, and we’ll pick it up after you see the doc. As for wine... Funny, I thought we had a cellar on the premises.’

‘I can’t expect you to fund my family’s wine habit!’ Jess protested.

‘Knock the cost of the wine off my bill,’ Luke suggested, and leaned back in his chair. ‘Next?’

‘I wanted to air the rooms in the manor, check that all the beds have linen on them, put flowers on the nightstands.’

Luke lifted his hips, pulled his mobile from his pocket, pushed buttons and held the mobile to his ear. After a quick conversation he disconnected and dropped the mobile onto the table.

‘Who was that?’ Jess asked.

‘Greta. She used to be housekeeper at the manor. Her granddaughter Angel cleans for me to earn some spending money...she’s at uni. Anyway, Greta’s retired, but she’ll grab Angel and get her to do what needs to be done next door. Next?’

Jess pushed her bowl away and reached for an apple. ‘Want to come and work for me? I could use someone with your problem-solving abilities...’

Luke draped his arm over the back of his chair and sent her a long, slow, sexy smile. ‘Why don’t you come and work for me? I could use someone with your marketing skills on a permanent basis. Although we’d have to work on your independent, I-can-do-it, perfectionistic don’t-help-me attitude.’

Jess rested her chin on her fist. ‘Am I that bad?’

‘Not bad. Just challenging.’

‘Well, that was kind. My ex—exes—were a lot less complimentary.’ Frustration crossed Jess’s face. ‘I was often told that I was too controlling and overbearing.’

‘They sound like a bunch of—’

Jess saw Luke swallow down his rude epithet and look for a better word.

‘Morons.’

‘Initially they loved the fact that I was independent, then they hated it. They told me that they were into successful women, but moaned at the amount of time I needed to spend on my business. They loved me paying for stuff, but then told me that I flaunted my money in their faces.’

‘And that made you start questioning yourself. Why?’

‘When the romance wore off they didn’t like the reality of living with me.’

‘And, being a woman, you automatically think it’s something you did wrong. They obviously weren’t strong enough for you. And then there’s male pride. None of them were as successful as you and they felt threatened by you. C’mon, Jess, that’s basic psych. You know this.’

‘But it doesn’t matter who brings in more money. It’s not important,’ Jess protested.

‘To you, maybe not, but to a man...? Yes, it’s important! You’re quite a package, Sherwood, and you need a man who is strong enough, secure enough, to allow you to fly.’

Jess wanted to ask him whether he was that man, whether he would hand her a pair of wings and watch her soar. Jess made herself meet his eyes and saw the regret in them.

‘I’m not that man, Jess,’ Luke stated quietly. ‘Not because I don’t think I could handle you, but because I don’t want the complication of handling any woman.’

Jess forced herself to smile. ‘That’s okay, because didn’t we decide that it was better to keep this—us—simple?’

‘Yeah. But I still want to sleep with you.’

‘And that is what makes it complicated.’

Luke’s chair scraped across the wooden floor as he pushed it back. He walked around and put his hands on the table and her chair, to cage her in. He bent his head and his lips brushed against hers.

Jess lifted her hand to the side of his face. ‘Thanks for looking after me last night.’

Luke kissed her again. ‘You scared me stupid, coming back late and injured.’ He pulled her up and into his arms, resting his chin on top of her head. ‘Don’t do it again, okay? I don’t know if my heart can take it.’

* * *

Her family, in typical fashion, arrived earlier than expected, and Jess found herself opening the first of what promised to be many, many bottles of red wine at shortly after four that afternoon. Her extensive family was crowded into the main lounge of the manor house and was already settling in. Nick had made a fire, Chris was opening a packet of crisps and her two other brothers were sprawled out over the two leather couches. Anne and Heather, two of her sisters-in-law, had taken the kids for a walk, and her mother, grandmother, Clem and Kate were standing by the huge bay window, looking at the wonderful view of the mountains. Her father, bless him, was exploring the house and probably cataloguing the paintings.

‘Good grief, how long before I get a glass of wine?’ Grandma demanded, and Jess rolled her eyes.

‘Well, if your lazy grandsons would get off their butts and help me it would be a lot quicker,’ Jess grumbled.

John sat up. ‘Hand over the bottle and the corkscrew, Shrimp.’

Jess wrinkled her nose at their old nickname for her and walked over to Nick, her favourite brother, who was standing next to the fire.

His grey eyes were sombre when he caught her eye. ‘So, how bad was it?’

‘How bad was what?’

‘Your fall. You brushed it off with the folks, but you’re limping and your eyes are slightly glassy.’

‘I’m fine. Luke patched me up.’

‘Who is Luke?’ John asked as he handed her a glass of wine.

‘The guy I’m doing the campaign for. He owns St Sylve.’ Jess couldn’t meet their eyes—especially Nick’s. He was too damn perceptive and he knew her really well.

‘Something cooking between you two?’ he asked.

‘What’s cooking between whom?’ Grandma demanded, and Jess groaned and glared at Nick.

‘She’s got ears like a bat,’ John commented.

‘I was just asking Jess what’s going on between—’ her elbow in his ribs didn’t stop Nick for one second ‘—her and Savage.’

‘Nothing is going on!’ Jess protested. Her brother and his big mouth.

‘Is he why you wouldn’t go on that date I set up for you?’ asked her mum.

‘No! I was just too busy!’ Jess replied, and held up her hands. ‘I want you guys to really listen to me. This is important.’

All the eyes in the room were suddenly focused on her and Jess knew that she had to choose her words carefully. ‘If you get to meet Luke—and I’m not saying you will, because really we’re just friends—I want you to go easy on him. He’s not used to big families so I don’t want you guys giving him a hard time...’

Her brothers looked at her, looked at each other, and burst out laughing. Talk about waving a red flag in front of a bull... Now Luke was firmly in their sights. She should have just played it cool. When was she going to learn?

‘I wouldn’t mind a friend like that.’ Clem’s comment floated over the masculine laughter.

Her female relatives had their noses pressed up against the glass of the window and they were not looking at the mountains. Jess prayed that the long-limbed figure walking past the window was Owen, but she knew she wouldn’t be that lucky.

‘Oh, my—smoking hot,’ Kate said, her hand on her heart. She turned to Jess. ‘Is that Luke?’

Jess nodded glumly.

‘Nice ass,’ Clem commented and Nick frowned.

‘He’s got swag...he’s a real fly guy.’

Jess rolled her eyes. Her grandma had been watching MTV again.

But her mother was the absolute limit. Liza rapped on the glass and over her head Jess could see Luke turning, his eyebrows raised. Liza fumbled to open the window, and when she did introduced herself and practically browbeat Luke into coming for supper. Could she be more embarrassing?

Jess felt her face turning bright red and felt Nick’s not-so-gentle elbow in her ribs.

‘So, just a friend, huh? You sure about that?’

Jess heaved in some air and thought that it was going to be a very long weekend indeed.

* * *

He’d planned to keep his distance from Jess while her family were visiting, but that first evening he’d somehow found himself seated at the head of the two hundred-year-old dining table that had been brought out by one of the early Savage wives at the beginning of the nineteenth century. The Sherwood clan occupied the rest of the table...and, Lord, what a clan they were.

Loud, noisy, charming...loud, noisy. Well, all except for Nick, the oldest brother, who observed more than he partook in the conversation, a wry smile on his face. Of all of Jess’s brothers this was the one he liked most...possibly because he didn’t seem as if he was operating at warp speed.

He had to admit that Jess’s brothers had spectacular taste in women...from Nick’s fiancée, Clem—a stunning redhead and once-famous model, the ex-girlfriend of rocker Cai Clouston—to the other wives. Two brunettes and a blonde, they were all lookers. All educated and independent. One was an ex-teacher turned columnist, one a doctor and one a physiotherapist. The Sherwood brothers liked brains with their looks.

Just like he did.

Luke looked at Jess, deep in conversation with her father. Their brown eyes were identical. He’d have to be blind not to notice the speculative looks they’d sent his way, the not-so-subtle questions about their relationship. He’d ducked them all. He figured it was up to Jess to explain their relationship, and that she would be returning with him to his house tonight.

He just wished he could say, even if it was only to himself, that she would be sleeping in his bed with him again.

She was...beautiful, Luke thought, looking at her. Her hair was messy, her lipstick was long gone, and she had shadows under her eyes from pain—ten stitches, and she’d thought she didn’t need to see a doctor!—but she glowed.

She loved her family, loved being around them, he realised. He’d watched their arrival from his lounge window and had heard her squeal when she’d seen the convoy of cars turning into St Sylve. The cars had barely stopped before she’d wrenched doors open and children and toddlers had clamoured for kisses and hugs from her. He’d gritted his teeth when one brother had swung her around—stitches, dammit!—before passing her like a pretty parcel to the next brother, who’d repeated the process.

Luke shook his head. Jess had never, not for one moment, doubted that she was loved...

This was the type of family he’d have sold his soul for as a child and teenager. If he could have ordered it this was what it would have looked like. Siblings, laughter, teasing, loud conversation.

‘Quiet down, everyone...’

Luke turned his attention to Jess’s dad as the conversation died down. David Sherwood lifted his wine glass. ‘I’d like to thank Luke for opening up his house to our craziness, and fervently hope he doesn’t regret it.’ David narrowed his eyes and they bounced from one child to another. Jess, Luke noticed, wasn’t left out. ‘And that means no rough-housing amongst the furniture, no sliding down banisters, no flour bombs from the upstairs windows.’

Luke leaned towards Nick, who was sitting to his right. ‘He’s talking to the kids, right?’

Nick’s grey eyes laughed. ‘Unfortunately, no. My brothers and my sister can be quite wild on occasion.’

Luke grinned. ‘And you’re not?’

‘I just don’t get caught,’ Nick replied with a chuckle.

‘Anyway, thank you, Luke, for allowing us to be together this weekend.’ David lifted his glass and when the cheers died down continued to speak. ‘By the way, I knew your mother.’

Luke saw Jess’s hand jerk her father’s arm and he caught her eye. Sending her a reassuring glance and the slightest shake of his head, he silently told her that he wanted to hear about his mother. God, he knew nothing about her—of course he wanted to hear about her.

‘Really? How did you know her?’ Luke was quite impressed that his voice sounded vaguely normal.

‘We went to art school together in Cape Town. I think I was half in love with Katelyn.’

‘You were half in love with everyone at uni,’ his wife said crisply. ‘Katelyn...Katelyn Kirby? I remember her. Long hair, green, green eyes. Your eyes.’ Liza leaned across Nick to touch his hand quickly with the tips of her fingers. ‘I’m sorry you lost her so young, Luke.’

Such simple, sincere words. It almost made him want to tell her that he hadn’t lost her, she’d already gone...

‘I remember going to her older sister’s cottage, near Lambert’s Bay. The sister raised her—she was a professor of archaeology at UCT, often away on digs.’

David took a sip of wine and Luke swallowed. God, he had an aunt. How...? Why...? He’d never known he had an aunt.

Not that it mattered after so much time, he had no intention of tracking her down but...wow, he had an aunt.

‘I loved her work. Adored her work,’ David rambled on. ‘She was destined for great things. Then there was Greg Prescott...’

‘And Dad’s off and running,’ Nick muttered. ‘Heaven help us. He’s going to give us a dissertation on every artist he ever knew.’

‘Distract him—quick!’ Luke heard another brother—John—hiss.

Patrick jumped in and spoke over his father. ‘So, when are we going to settle our bet, Shrimp?’

Luke’s head snapped up. Bet? What bet?

‘We have time this weekend. We can find a five- kilometre route and settle this once and for all,’ Patrick goaded Jess.

‘Oh, goodie.’ Liza clapped her hands. ‘I’m sick of dripping taps.’

Luke saw Jess wince. What was going on?

When Jess didn’t speak, Patrick leaned across the table and got in her face. ‘Chicken, Jess? Are you being a girl?’

‘I am a girl, frog-face.’

Luke saw stubbornness creep into her expression. He looked at Nick again. ‘Want to explain what the bet is?’

‘Who can run a quicker five-k.’

‘Me,’ Jess and Patrick chimed in unison.

Luke poured wine into his glass and took a sip before pinning Jess with a look. ‘No.’ He saw the protest start to form on her lips and knew that her instinctive reaction was to baulk. ‘Not negotiable, sweetheart,’ he added in his firmest voice.

Jess held his glare for a long minute before muttering mutinously, ‘I’ll be fine.’

‘Ten.’ Luke held up both his hands. He knew that she didn’t want her family to know that she’d had stitches in her leg, that she didn’t want them fussing over her—especially the two doctors—so he’d agreed to keep her secret. But not if she was thinking about racing her brother over five kilometres.

He saw Jess’s lips move in a silent curse and hid his smile when she finally looked at Patrick. ‘Not this weekend, slowpoke. I’m still a bit sore from my fall.’

Patrick seemed to accept that as a valid excuse, Luke thought, feeling Nick’s interested gaze on his face. He turned his head and lifted his eyebrows. ‘What?’

‘Well, that was interesting. Ten what?’

Luke ignored him, but Nick wasn’t the only brother to have picked up on the tension between him and Jess. Patrick geared up to needle his sister again.

‘So what’s the deal between you and Savage, Jess? I think that’s the first time in history that you’ve listened to a man without an argument.’

Jess leaned across the table and skewered him with a hot look. ‘What’s the deal between you and brains, Pat? As in...where are yours? And mind your own business.’

‘You are my business. Our business.’ Patrick spooned up his dessert and leaned back in his chair.

Nick rolled his eyes. ‘Here we go.’ He turned to Luke. ‘Patrick and Jess have butted heads their entire lives. They are only nine months apart, and Pat loves to lord it over her. Not that we’re not all interested in what’s happening between you and our baby sister.’

‘But you’re just quieter about it?’ Luke shot back, and read the warning in Nick’s eyes. Mess with her and you’re a dead man. Which annoyed him... After all, she hadn’t caught him in bed with someone else.

And never would. He didn’t cheat.

‘I counted the bedrooms and there’s just enough for all of us,’ John commented. ‘So, where are you sleeping, Jessica?’

Every single Sherwood, plus wives and partners, perked up. Her mother leaned forward in her chair. Her grandmother chuckled. Faces turned either speculative or protective and Jess threw Luke a desperate look.

Ah...this was the downside of a large family. The extreme lack of privacy. ‘I offered Jess a place to sleep in my house for the duration of your stay. Since we do need to do some work this weekend, we thought that was the most practical solution.’

‘So are you sleeping together, and if you aren’t, why not?’ Liza raised her eyebrows. Liza didn’t give him a millisecond to respond. ‘Are you involved? Married? Gay?’

‘Mum!’ Jess shoved her hands into her hair from frustration.

‘What?’ Liza sent her an innocent look. ‘I just want you to be happy. And if you and Luke are just work colleagues then I have at least three young men who want your number.’

‘Good grief,’ Jess moaned. ‘I told you—Luke and I are friends. Just friends.’

‘Then maybe you and Grant can get back together?’ Patrick suggested. ‘I saw him last week. He was asking about you.’

A chorus of approval followed his suggestion and Luke felt his teeth grinding in the back of his jaw.

‘He isn’t seeing anyone else,’ Chris commented. ‘We took him out for a beer and he was crying into it, saying that you were the best thing that ever happened to him. Can’t understand it myself, but there you are.’

‘He’s a nice guy, Jess,’ John agreed.

Jess sent Luke a look of abject misery and mortification. He now knew what she’d meant when she’d said that her family didn’t respect her privacy and that they had no concept of emotional boundaries.

Patrick waved his wine glass in the air. ‘And he’s a mean fly half. If he’s prepared to forgive her for being so anal then she should consider giving him another chance.’

Clem shook her head at Kate. ‘For a doctor, your husband can be extraordinarily thick on occasion.’

‘Tell me about it,’ Kate grumbled.

Jess pushed her chair back and stumbled to her feet. Luke saw the white ring of pain around her mouth and knew that she was at her limit—physically and probably mentally—and certainly not up to dealing with her family. When she swayed on her feet his protective streak flashed white-hot, and he was out of his chair to catch her as her knees buckled. He’d been wrong. She was way past her limit.

‘Okay, that’s enough,’ he said in a hard voice.

Luke wound his arm around her waist and felt Jess’s arms creep around him. He looked at each of her brothers in turn.

‘God, you lot are a piece of work. Can’t you see that she’s not up to dealing with your crap? She’s got ten stitches in her leg and she’s battered and bruised.’

His glare had Patrick’s retort dying on his lips.

‘Jess and I—hell, I don’t even know what’s what between us. But—’ he looked at Liza ‘—it is between us. And the next person who mentions her going back to that waste of oxygen she caught screwing another woman, in her bed, will get his ass kicked. By me.’ Luke lifted his hand to cradle Jess’s head against his chest. ‘I am taking Jess home. She’s had more than enough. She’ll see you in the morning—if she’s feeling up to it.’

Luke guided Jess out of the room and a silent Sherwood family watched them leave.

Nick broke the shocked silence that followed. ‘Well, well, well. Jess has finally found a man who has a bigger set than she does. Good for her and it’s about time. Pass that wine, Grandma, you’re hogging it.’

* * *

For the second night in a row Jess slept in Luke’s bed—in the proper sense of the word. There had been no euphemisms involved because shortly after carrying her up the stairs he’d handed her some painkillers and bustled her into bed. Her head had barely hit the pillow and she was asleep.

Sexy she was not.

Jess rolled over as she smelt coffee and swallowed saliva as Luke walked into the room, dressed in nothing more than a low-slung towel over his slim hips. Lord, he had a beautiful body...

He smiled down at her as he put the cup of coffee on the bedside table. Jess sat up and squinted at the clock. It was just past nine—an unusual time for Luke to be showering.

‘When I came back from the lands your brothers were about to go for a run and invited me to join them,’ Luke explained, sitting on the bed next to her. ‘Obviously it was a test. Competitive bunch, aren’t they?’

Jess groaned. ‘Sorry. Did they go all he-man on you?’

‘Well, they did try to outpace me.’ Luke smiled into his coffee cup. ‘I managed to keep up.’

Jess took her cup and winced when her injuries brushed the bedclothes. ‘If you beat Patrick I’ll kiss you senseless.’

‘I beat Patrick. I ran twenty-three-ten.’

Jess’s jaw dropped open. ‘You beat them all?’

Luke looked like the cat who ate the cream. ‘I whipped them all.’

‘Woo-hoo!’ Jess shouted with glee. ‘You are the man!’

Jess settled back on the pillows and after a minute or so smiled at Luke. ‘You know that you’re going to have to marry me now, don’t you?’

Luke spluttered tiny drops of coffee over his white towel. ‘What?’

Jess patted his knee. ‘By standing up for me last night, you—in my mother’s eyes at least—practically declared your intentions. As I speak, she’s probably planning our wedding.’

‘God, families are complicated,’ Luke complained. ‘And yours is, I suspect, more complicated than most.’

‘I’m the youngest child—a daughter with four older protective brothers.’

‘Who threatened to cut off my balls if I hurt you,’ Luke told her.

‘Oh, grief, they didn’t?’ Jess blew air into her cheeks. ‘Of course they did... Sorry. Did they thump their chests as well?’

Luke grinned. ‘Yep. Then they spent the rest of the run deciding what to do about your ex. Concrete shoes were mentioned.’

‘Their anger will blow off and then they’ll just ignore him. I hope.’ Jess sipped her coffee. ‘I’m sorry. I know that they are impossible and in-your-face. I’ll understand if you want to keep your distance from them...’

Luke placed his hand on the other side of her stretched out legs and leaned on it. ‘I haven’t had much to do with large families, Jess—hell, with any families. I don’t know how to act, what to do... Last night I was nervous as anything.’

‘Seriously? You didn’t look it.’

‘Practice. My legs were bouncing under the table.’

Jess heard the insecurity in his voice and felt her heart jump into her throat. ‘You just need to be who you are, do what you do. Don’t worry about my mother and her machinations. If your little speech last night didn’t get through to her, she knows that I can’t and won’t be forced into anything. So, what do you think about the fact that my dad knew your mom?’

Jess felt his mood shift from relaxed to wary.

‘I guess the art world in the seventies was smaller than I supposed.’

‘Are you going to try to track down your aunt?’

Luke lifted his head to look at her. ‘Why should I?’

Why should he? Jess frowned. ‘Luke, she could tell you about your mother.’

Luke’s face hardened. ‘I know all I need to about Katelyn. She was a really good artist who decided she didn’t want me any more. Then she died.’

The lack of emotion in his voice whipped at Jess’s soul. It spoke of hurt and betrayal buried deep. ‘Your aunt could explain—’

‘I’m thirty-six years old. She must’ve known about me. She’s had thirty-plus years to find me and explain,’ Luke shot back. ‘It’s not like we went anywhere.’

His tone told her to leave the subject alone and Jess backed off. They’d just got back onto an even keel. She didn’t want to argue with him and risk upsetting that.

Muscles rippled in Luke’s torso as he leaned forward and gently touched her chin with the tips of his fingers. ‘How are you feeling?’

Jess licked her lips at the passion slumbering in his eyes. ‘Good. Much better.’

Luke moved forward and slipped his hand around her neck. ‘Then did I hear you say something about kissing me senseless? Especially since I whipped your brothers?’

‘I might have said that,’ Jess whispered as his head dropped. She sighed when his lips met hers in a kiss that was as simple as it was devastating. She wanted more than just a kiss. She wanted him in every way.

Luke’s tongue tangled with hers and she reached out her hand and patted his waist, finding the towel and tugging.

Luke pulled back and sent her a look full of regret and frustration. ‘Sweetheart, we can’t. Your leg.’

Jess tugged again. ‘You’ll be careful of me. I trust you,’ she said against his mouth. ‘I’m tired of just sleeping in your bed, Savage.’

Luke covered her as his towel fell open. ‘Well, when you put it like that...’