It Was Only a Kiss

FIVE



Luke watched from his lounge as Jess said goodbye to a strawberry blonde who had just deposited a massive art folder into the boot of her car. She hugged Jess before climbing into her car, and they spent another minute or two chatting before the car moved down the driveway. He saw Jess rub her arms as she turned around to head back to the manor house. Her blonde hair was tousled by the wind, and in her black jeans and short cream jacket she looked just as fresh as she had that morning—if he ignored the shadows under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders.

Luke saw her look at his front door, saw the indecision cross her face and caught the small shake of her head. She wouldn’t invade his privacy, wouldn’t step over the line between work and play by inviting herself in for a drink, a meal, a roll in the sack.

Luke half smiled. Please feel free to invade my privacy, he silently told Jess, especially if you have more in mind.

Jess walked over to the manor house. It was a lonely place, huge and oppressive, and he’d spent huge chunks of his life in it alone. On a cold winter’s night it could be gloomy, and he didn’t want Jess in the house on her own tonight.

Or maybe he didn’t want to be on his own tonight, Luke thought. After a crazy day being trailed by cameras he also wanted something normal. A hot meal, a glass of wine, some company.

Before he could talk himself out of inviting Jess over, Luke walked into the hall, grabbed his jacket off the newel post and shrugged it on, and opened the front door. He grimaced at the icy wind and wondered if Jess was warm enough at night. The manor house had no central heating—his father had spent money like a Russian oil billionaire but refused to spend money to warm the house. There was a down duvet on her bed and a heater in her room, and the study had a fireplace—God, he’d forgotten to get some wood to her—but if she wanted to sit in one of the many lounges she’d need a ski-suit.

Luke hunched his shoulders up around his ears as he walked around the house and up the back stairs to the kitchen. Slipping into the room, he blew on his fingers and looked around the empty space. The kettle was on, and a teabag was in the mug next to it...

Luke stepped from the kitchen into the passageway and stood at the bottom of a second simple staircase. In the old days it had been the servants’ staircase, and as a boy the only one he’d ever used.

‘Hi.’

Luke looked up and saw Jess leaning on the short strip of banister on the first floor. ‘Hey. I was wondering if you’d like to have supper with me.’

Jess grinned. ‘What’s on the menu?’

‘Since you cook like a first-year uni student, you can’t afford to be picky,’ Luke told her. ‘Get down here and come see.’

Jess’s smile held enough energy to power a rainbow, Luke thought as she disappeared from view. Two seconds later she was at the top of the stairs and lifting her buttock onto the railing. ‘Jess—no!’

Luke instinctively moved to the end of the railing and held his breath as Jess flew down the railing and practically fell into his arms. Luke banded his arms around her and bent his knees to soften the impact of her slamming into him.

‘Whoomph...’ Jess muttered as they connected.

He held her as they swayed and regained their balance. Jess recovered before he did, because she flung her head back and her eyes sparkled with fun. Luke looked down at her and did what any hot-blooded man would do in the same situation. He kissed her. Hard and fast, with an already beating heart and elevated pulse. He kissed her without thought, backing her into the wall behind her, shoving his knee between her legs to widen hers, rubbing the inside of her thigh with his knee.

Oh, God, she felt amazing. Soft and supple, slim yet strong. Her perfect breasts were pressed against his chest, and he wondered if she realised that she’d tilted her hips, bringing her closer to him. Luke’s hand dipped into the loose space between her back and jeans—that special area above her butt. Her skin was baby-smooth, warm, tantalising... He wondered if she still wore a thong and dipped his hand to find out. Yep, there it was...a thin cord against achingly smooth feminine skin.

Luke shifted so that he was even closer to her—so close that he could feel the thump of her heart, catch those breathy little moans as he tangled his tongue with hers. The scent of her was clean and warm, the taste of her spicy-sweet—and he decided that he’d never been this hot, this quickly.

What was it about this woman that sent him from nought to three hundred miles in six seconds flat? She wasn’t the most beautiful woman he’d ever had his hands on, nor the most built. But she made him spark and then burn. He needed to have her, to taste her sweet mouth, see the brilliance of her eyes, the warmth of her smile. He wanted to see her in his bed, looking up at him, her body flushed with pleasure, legs around his waist, her eyes closing with pleasure.

He felt Jess’s sigh, her breath in his mouth, felt her hands flatten against his chest...

‘I want you,’ he muttered against her cheekbone, and heard the rough desire in his voice.

‘I know,’ she whispered back. ‘But it’s too soon. I can’t...’

‘Why not?’ Luke demanded, snapping his head back. ‘We’re two single adults, mutually attracted. Nothing changes...’

Because he was hip to hip with her, nose to nose, he felt resistance invade her muscles. And heard the reluctance in her voice. ‘I’ve never been good at one-night stands, Luke, and we have to work together in the morning. This campaign is too important to risk messing it up because we want to scratch an itch.’

‘I’ll risk it,’ he growled, nipping her full bottom lip with his teeth.

Jess patted his chest. ‘Back up.’ When he pulled away, she shook her head. ‘More. Seriously—I need room to breathe.’

So did he. Luke moved away reluctantly and slumped against the wall next to her. This woman was going to be the death of him. He’d be the first person ever to die of sexual frustration.

Jess was the first to break the silence. Her voice was forced-casual when she spoke. ‘So, what did you think about my descent down the banister? Seven? Eight?’

‘Five. Average.’ Luke grinned reluctantly. ‘Not too bad. Not good, but okay.’

Jess lifted her eyebrows. ‘And I suppose you’re better?’

‘Miles.’

‘Prove it.’

Was she challenging him? To slide down the banister like a child? Luke started to roll his eyes and then he saw the dare in hers, in that arrogantly cocked eyebrow.

‘You are such a chicken,’ Jess said, and made a clucking sound.

He shouldn’t even be tempted. It was such a childish thing to do. Jess did her clucking sound again and he glared at her. ‘I take it your brothers taught you to slide down banisters?’

‘Who else? We have a long staircase at home. We used to put a mattress at the bottom of the stairs...shall I drag one down from the bedroom for you?’

‘I am not sliding down the bloody banister,’ Luke growled.

Jess hooted. ‘You’ve thought about it a couple of times. Just do it. Go big or go home.’

Luke shook his head. ‘You are such a brat.’

A man could only take so much when challenged by a woman, he thought. All his life he’d run up these stairs and slid down. The last time he’d done it had been a couple of weeks before his father’s death.

He squinted down at Jess, who was still silently laughing at him. ‘A chicken, huh?’

‘Cluck, cluck, cluck.’

‘Mmm. Well, if I meet your challenge then you have to meet mine.’

‘And what would that be?’ Jess asked, suddenly wary.

Luke grinned. He pushed her hair off her forehead and placed his hand on her cheekbone. ‘I get to kiss you.’

Jess’s eyes smoked over. ‘You just did,’ she pointed out with a hitch in her voice.

Luke shook his head. ‘Again. No holds barred.’

‘It’s not a good idea, Luke.’

‘Cluck, cluck, cluck.’ See—he could make chicken noises too.

Jess scowled at him, but he felt her acquiescence before he heard her muttered agreement. It seemed that she couldn’t resist a challenge either. Then he felt the sting of her hand on his rump.

‘Let’s see how the master does it.’

Luke grinned, stepped away from her and jogged up the stairs. He placed one buttock on the banister and suddenly he was ten again and flying. He let out a huge whoop as he gained speed. He was flying off the end... Oh, hell. At the last moment he remembered to bend his knees, and he landed awkwardly but safely.

He placed his hands on his thighs and grinned up at Jess. ‘I’m out of practice. That was less than elegant.’

Jess placed a hand on his back and patted him. ‘I’d say. Now, what’s for supper? I’m starving.’

Jess started to walk away, and his hand shot out and snagged the pocket of her jeans. She stopped mid-stride and swore softly.

‘Are you welshing on our bet?’ Luke demanded, wrapping his arms around her waist and burying his face in the crook of her neck.

Jess hauled in a breath. He smelt so good—that perfect combination of man and deodorant, sexiness and skin. He spun her around, placed his hands on either side of her slender waist and pulled her towards him. He captured her yelp of surprise in his mouth and, while her mouth was open, slid into the kiss. She could feel his fingers curling into her hips, the pads of his fingers branding her through her clothes as he re-explored her mouth. She’d been thinking about this kiss—and more—for the past three weeks. Hell, for the past eight years.

It didn’t disappoint. He didn’t disappoint.

Unable, unwilling to stop, Luke threaded both his hands into her hair, tipping her head to allow him deeper access, pushing his body closer to hers. He sighed when her arms encircled his waist, the palms of her hands flat against his back under his shirt to explore those ridges of muscle, that heated skin.

She wanted him...wanted to take this kiss further, she thought as he placed tiny kisses on her cheek, her jaw, pulled the neck of her jersey down to scrape his teeth against the tendon in her neck. He feathered his fingers against her ribcage and Jess succumbed to temptation and twisted into his hand.

Luke, hearing her soft whimper, bent his legs and, placing his hands under her thighs, lifted her up.

Jess instinctively gripped his waist with her thighs, vaguely aware that he had her against the wall. She felt the icy bricks against her back when he yanked her shirt up and over her head. His eyes heated as he stared down at her breasts, covered by a lacy lilac bra.

‘You’re exquisite.’

Jess couldn’t find any moisture in her mouth to swallow. If she wiggled she’d go off like a cracker.

‘Luke...’

‘What?’ Luke muttered, his mouth against hers. ‘Rip my clothes off? Take me now?’

She wished she could say it. Wished she could surrender to him, lose herself in his arms. But that would require her handing over a smidgeon of control, and even that would be too much. Luke had the ability to overwhelm her, and she wasn’t prepared to risk feeling vulnerable...being vulnerable.

It took everything to drop her legs and unhook her arms from his waist. She wiggled out from under him and left him facing the wall, his forearm above his head.

‘Phew! Right, where were we?’

Luke scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘I have no idea. Give me a minute to get blood to my brain and I’ll tell you.’

‘Dinner,’ Jess said brightly, picking up her shirt and pulling it on. ‘You were going to make me dinner!’

‘I’d rather make love to you,’ Luke grumbled, turning around and tipping his head back to rest it against the wall.

Jess looked at his strong, exposed throat, the muscles bunching as he folded his arms, the frustration in his deep green eyes.

He really wanted her. To have such a man feeling so frustrated over her made her feel powerful, giddy, intensely and completely feminine...

But, as with any other drug, the high was not worth the low that followed.

* * *

Jess sat at Luke’s kitchen table while he made spaghetti Bolognese for supper. The aroma of fresh herbs and garlic and the satiny-smooth slide of the red wine Luke had pressed on her made her think she was in Tuscany again. She’d adored Tuscany—the food, the wine, the old buildings and the sleepy villages.

Of course in Tuscany she wouldn’t have had her laptop open in front of her or her iPad next to her. She wouldn’t be prefacing dinner with talk of work. But, knowing Luke’s intensive schedule, she realised that if she didn’t grab his attention now she might not have it later.

And, admittedly, she’d grabbed her computer to remind them both of why she was at St Sylve. She was here to work, not play. To work, not to race down banisters like children. Work, not exchange hot, melt-your-panties kisses against a two-hundred-year-old wall...

Work, Jessica. Tangling with that mouth, playing with that delicious body was not an option.

Jess looked at her screen. The letters were out of focus and jumbled. Not only did he make her hormones jump but she also wanted to delve beneath that inscrutable façade. She kept getting glimpses of his soul, tiny flashes of resentment, sadness and more emotion than she would have credited him with. Luke Savage had unplumbed depths...

And she shouldn’t be thinking of plumbing those depths, Jess told herself. Nor should she be tempted by sleeping with him either. She knew the science behind attraction, Jess reminded herself. A girl thought she was just having a simple affair but the act of intercourse released the cuddle hormone—what was it called again? Oxytocin?—and while you intended to walk away you suddenly felt this man might be the one, your mate, your destiny, the father of your children.

Then months, years, decades later you’d find him in bed testing out someone else’s cuddle hormone.

All because she’d scratched an itch.

Not going to happen...mostly because she suspected that if she ever started thinking of Luke in terms of together for ever and one and only she might as well yank out her heart and ask him to stomp on it. Hard. With Grant her head and her pride had been dinged. She knew that if she allowed herself to feel anything more than friendship for Luke it would be the emotional equivalent of being disembowelled with a teaspoon. And the fastest way to get to that point? Sleep with him.

So that wasn’t going to happen. She hoped.

‘I can smell the smoke from all those brain cells you’re burning,’ Luke said mildly, swiftly dicing onions with a wicked-looking knife. ‘What are thinking about?’

Jess sent him a blank look. ‘What?’

‘You’re miles away.’ Luke tossed the onions into a pan with the sizzling garlic. He nodded at her laptop. ‘And you brought work...not cool since I’m trying to seduce you with my culinary talents.’

Jess leaned back in her chair and lifted her wine glass. ‘You should know that my ex cooked the most amazing meals and it still took him three months to talk me into bed.’

Luke raised his eyebrows. ‘Cautious, aren’t you?’

‘Very.’ Jess held his eyes for a long moment.

It would be so easy for you to talk me into bed, but while you can easily walk away, Jess silently told him, I’m not so practised. Sex is intimate, it’s binding, and I’d be handing my body to you, and some of my soul, and that scares me. I don’t want to get hurt. I really don’t want to feel anything more for you than lust-coloured friendship.

Luke saw something in her expression—possibly craziness—and turned away without saying anything.

Jess took that as a sign to change the subject and looked down at her screen. ‘And the reason I brought work over is that I need to talk to you about the campaign.’

‘Talk,’ Luke said, sounding resigned.

Jess ran through the schedule for the next couple of weeks and told him which society events she suggested he attend during the next month. Some were in Cape Town, some in Franschoek, and a couple were in the surrounding wine towns of Stellenbosch and Paarl. All were high society, and it had been easy securing an invitation for him. Actually, most he’d already been invited to, but he’d binned the invitations without opening them.

‘Guess I’d better get my penguin suit dry-cleaned,’ Luke muttered.

Jess powered down her laptop and sat back and looked at him. He was leaning against the counter, ankles crossed, the foot of his wine glass resting against his arm. His eyes were warm and relaxed and Jess felt her throat tighten. It was such a nice end to a busy day: a man cooking her supper and looking as if he wanted to slurp her up. Casually romantic...

Jess gave herself a sharp mental slap. If she was going to start having romantic fantasies about Luke then she shouldn’t be in his kitchen, in his personal space.

Jess’s mobile rang and the glass in her hand wobbled. Putting the glass down, she saw the call was from her eldest brother, Nick, and she smiled. For far too many years she hadn’t received any calls from Nick, and it still gave her a kick to see his name on her caller display.

‘Hey, you,’ she crooned. ‘It’s so good to hear from you.’

As Nick started to speak she caught Luke’s frown and asked Nick to hold on. Excusing herself, she walked out of the kitchen to the hall and into Nick’s living room. Another painting dominated the room—a beach scene this time, of a deserted cottage and the wild and cold Atlantic ocean. It was atmospheric, but every brushstroke seemed saturated with loneliness. Luke’s mother’s work...

Jess shivered and went to stand by the fire. ‘Sorry, run that by me again?’

Jess slapped her mobile against her hand as she walked back into the kitchen, her thoughts a million miles away. She missed the searching look Luke sent her as she picked up her glass and drained the contents.

‘Hey!’ Luke protested. ‘That’s fifteen years old. If you’re going to throw it down your throat I’ll give you something cheaper.’

Jess looked at her glass and grimaced. ‘Sorry.’

‘Problem?’ Luke nodded at her mobile. ‘Bad news?’

‘Not bad news. Just trying to manage my family. That was Nick, my oldest brother, being bossy and trying to arrange my life for me.’

‘You don’t sound particularly upset.’

Jess half smiled. ‘To be honest, he’s the only one I accept it from. He was out of my life for so long that it’s still a bit of a thrill to have him in it. I’m prepared to forgive his managing ways. Probably not for much longer, though.’

‘And the problem is...?’ Luke stirred the bolognaise mixture and dashed some olive oil into a pot of water, cranking the gas high to get it to boil.

‘Next weekend is a long weekend—Friday is a national holiday.’

‘Yes. So?’

‘My family have traditionally always spent that weekend together. All the siblings, their kids, my parents, me... We usually go away somewhere for those couple of days. I told them I couldn’t make this year because I’m swamped, and because...’ Jess stopped and winced.

Luke sent her a look that insisted she finish her sentence. When she didn’t speak, he crossed over to her, tipped her chin so that she had to look at him and lifted his eyebrows. ‘And because...?’

‘Because they keep dropping hints about my ex and me getting back together. He’s good friends with three of my brothers. He often spent that weekend with us.’

‘But you told your family it was over? Why are they pressuring you?’ Luke asked, puzzled.

‘Because Grant has said that he wouldn’t mind us getting back together and I was iffy about why we broke up. My brothers think I’m being temperamental and picky and just need to see what I’ve lost. Grant is a good guy in their eyes.’ Jess shoved her hand into her hair in frustration.

‘He cheated on you,’ Luke said with utter certainty.

Jess’s mouth fell open. When she could find words, Jess spoke again. ‘How did you know that?’

Luke tapped her nose before going back to the stove. ‘I saw it in your eyes. Why didn’t you tell your family?’

Jess dropped into a chair and rested her elbows on the table. ‘Partly pride. He made a fool of me and, as I said, they are friends. Have been for years... That makes it worse. If they find out about him cheating, something awful might happen.’

Luke stopped stirring the sauce and looked at her, surprised. ‘They’d beat him up?’

Jess pulled a face. ‘They wouldn’t mean to. But my brothers are very protective over me. Grant will say something stupid and a fist will fly...’

‘Aren’t you overreacting?’

Jess took a sip of wine and looked at Luke over the rim. ‘When I was five I was bullied at school. My brothers hung the bully—a girl—on a hook. All four Sherwood boys, ranging from six to ten, ended up in the principal’s office.’

‘Huh?’

‘I was thirteen, going to my first dance. My date was threatened by the quartet. He was so scared he pulled out and I went to the dance alone. Sixteen—another boy, another kiss... Nick sprayed the boy with a hosepipe. In winter. I could go on and on.’

‘Lucky you.’ Luke held out the spoon for her to taste the sauce.

Jess held his wrist, blew on the sauce and tasted. It was perfect—herby, garlicky, meaty.

‘Yum. Lucky? Are you mad? They are the bane of my life. They’re nosy and interfering and still think I’m a little girl in need of guidance and protection.’

‘But it must be nice to know that you have four people standing in your corner, ready to wade into the fire for you,’ Luke said soberly, and Jess knew he was right.

Yes, her brothers annoyed her, but she wouldn’t trade them for the obvious loneliness of growing up an only child.

‘Or to punch an ex for you.’

‘I guess.’

‘He cheated. He deserves it.’ Luke shrugged. ‘Are you sure he cheated or was it just a suspicion?’

‘I caught them in my bed. She was on top.’

‘Tacky,’ Luke said, tossing pasta into the rapidly boiling water. ‘You’re not very upset about him cheating.’

Jess shrugged. ‘I’m over it. Mostly.’

‘Mostly?’

Jess looked at the ceiling. How did she explain that she felt stupid rather than hurt—embarrassed that she’d never suspected he was cheating? And his parting words still stung.

‘He told me I was a ball-breaker, a control-freak-psycho. It was messy and a big failure... I don’t like mess and I don’t like failing.’

She didn’t like being out of control, and being a perfectionist was a pain in the ass sometimes. Jess repeated the thought to Luke and he grinned.

He reached for the bottle of wine and topped up her glass while Jess draped her arm over the back of the chair. ‘Anyway, to come back to my conversation with Nick... My family are desperately trying to find a villa to rent in Cape Town, so they can be near me over that long weekend. So that we can spend some time together... And my father—sorry—wants to see St Sylve. My family are wine-oholics. They’ve asked me to keep my ears open for a place to rent that will fit the entire family. Including Grandma,’ Jess continued.

‘You won’t find a place to rent at such late notice. They are usually booked quite far in advance,’ Luke told her as he drained the pasta.

‘I know.’ Jess looked glum.

Luke stared at her for a long minute and Jess frowned. ‘What?’

‘Being with your family is important to you, isn’t it?’

‘Yes. Very. My brothers alternate Christmas with us and their wives’ families, so we’re never all together at Christmas. This weekend is one we’ve kept sacrosanct. We have to have a damn good excuse to miss it, and so far my mother is not buying mine.’

Jess saw the deep breath Luke pulled in.

‘Invite them to St Sylve.’

‘What?’

‘The manor house will sleep twelve adults upstairs and another two downstairs.’

What a perfect solution. She could have her family close and work when she could, or after they all went to sleep.

‘Eleven adults. Five kids under five. Is that a serious offer?’

‘It’s sitting empty,’ Luke pointed out as he dished up their supper.

Jess stared at the plate he’d put in front of her, her brain whirling. ‘I’ll only suggest it to them if we pay to hire it.’

Luke considered her words as he grated Parmesan cheese on top of her food. ‘I wish St Sylve was in a position to say no, but it’s not. I’ll do some research tomorrow and give you a daily rate.’

Jess bit her lip and wiggled in her chair in excitement. ‘Oh, I could just kiss you.’

‘Feel free,’ Luke quickly replied, and Jess blushed.

She would, but she suspected that would lead to more kissing.

And then her food would get cold and sticky and she was starving.

‘No?’ Luke filled up their wine glasses. ‘Damn. Well, then, let’s eat.’