Anything but Love (3 page)

Luke Monroe’s presence here, now, was surreal and, though stunned, Rae couldn’t suppress a giddy thrill. “What are you doing here? How … how did you find me?”

“It wasn’t easy.”

His clipped tone betrayed his anger as did his grim expression. Luke was one of the most jovial, easygoing men she’d ever known. She’d seen him harried once, frustrated, but never angry. Well, except for the fateful night a randy college kid had grabbed her butt when she’d been taking a drink order. Luke had interceded and he’d been angry, no,
outraged
on her behalf. She’d been smitten with Luke for months, but that night she’d fallen in love.

Rae’s cheeks burned while she grappled for words, while Luke dragged his gaze down her body, soaking in the transformation. She struggled not to fuss with her cropped hair or to tug up her scooped neckline. There was absolutely nothing she could do about her bare legs, and kicking off her pumps would be ridiculous and embarrassing. She’d never been one to flaunt her curves and there was nothing promiscuous about this dress, yet Rae felt naked.

“Born and raised in privilege,” Luke said in the wake of her silence. “Exclusive private schools. Extended lavish vacations.”

Rae flinched at Luke’s caustic tone. He spouted the cards she’d been dealt as though she’d been lucky. As a teen, she’d been shipped off to various locations and pawned off on assorted relatives so as not to cast a shadow in her mother’s spotlight.

“College graduate with a master’s degree in education. A freaking
master’s,
” he said in a low, tight tone, “yet you worked as an assistant at Sugar Tots and then came to work for me as a freaking waitress in a freaking
bar
. You said, and I quote:
I need the money, Luke
.” He stuffed his hands into his jeans’ pockets, swept a disgusted gaze over the opulent foyer then back to Rae. “What the—”

“
Hello
. Who do we have here?”

Rae cringed at her mother’s sultry tone and knew without turning that the woman was shrink-wrapped in a sexy gown and no doubt slinking down the white carpeted staircase. Rae watched as Luke turned his attention to her mother, saw the moment he recognized her as the tabloid famous Olivia Deveraux, one-time starlet, all-time sex kitten. Rae waited for Luke to get that bewitched, lustful expression most men, ages eighteen to eighty, got when they saw her voluptuous and overtly stunning mother in person. Instead, he just looked annoyed.

“Friend of yours?” Olivia persisted, moving in alongside Rae, and reeking of Chanel No. 5 and fruity martinis.

“We worked together,” Rae blurted, because
friend
didn’t really describe their association. Especially not now.

“Luke Monroe,” he expanded, while offering Olivia a hand in polite greeting. More than he’d done with Rae. “Pleased to meet you Ms. Deveraux.”

“Are you
really
?” she asked in a coy tone, clasping his palm and pursing her crimson lips in a sexy pout. “You don’t
look
pleased.”

“Blame it on the long flight and the holiday crush,” he said in a gentler tone that only made Rae feel worse. Instead of celebrating Christmas with his family, a family he was incredibly close with, he’d flown across the country … for what? To give Rae hell?

“You just flew in from China today?” Olivia asked, looking mildly shocked. “Good heavens, Reagan. Invite the man in for a drink. I’ll join you.” She looped her arm through Luke’s and guided him toward Geoffrey’s well-stocked bar.

Rae’s heart pounded as she hurried after them, wondering how she was going to wiggle her way around another colossal lie. Wondering what Luke was thinking just now and wishing she’d booked herself into a hotel rather than buckling under Olivia’s invitation to stay here while seeking a new home suited to her birthday inheritance.

“Maybe Luke will tell me more about your volunteer work abroad,” Olivia said over her shoulder to Rae before turning her wide, kohl-lined eyes on Luke. “Every time I ask her about her work with those poor children, she declares those days the best days of her life then changes the subject. It must have been
horrid
working in such a remote location,” she said to Luke then pointed out the premium back bar. “I don’t suppose you know how to mix up an appletini?”

“I think I can manage,” he said with an enigmatic glance at Rae. “Vodka or gin?”

“I’m a vodka girl. And as Bond would say…” Olivia winked and purred. “Shaken, not stirred.”

Just as Luke reached for Grey Goose and vermouth, Geoffrey swaggered into the reception room in a dapper Armani suit, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back from his handsome, aging face. “Olivia, sweetheart, what the hell?” he asked while checking his gold watch. “We’re late as is and…” He noticed shaggy-haired Luke in his rumpled tee and flannel shirt mixing drinks behind the Italian marble bar and frowned. “Do we know you?”

“This is Luke Monroe, dear,” Olivia said with a beaming smile. “A friend of Reagan’s.”

“Really.”

Rae couldn’t tell if Geoffrey was frowning because he didn’t like the idea of Rae entertaining a virile, young man or because he was peeved about the way Olivia was ogling said virile, young man. Knowing the way her mother’s mind worked, Olivia was no doubt mentally comparing Luke to one of Hollywood’s young hunks, in this instance Ryan Reynolds, and imagining herself starring alongside him as the mature love interest. Olivia was constantly lamenting how Sandra Bullock was stealing all of her roles.

Instead of acknowledging Luke, Geoffrey eyed Rae. “Dinner starts promptly at five.”

“Maybe Luke could join us,” Olivia said.

“There’s a dress code,” Geoffrey said. “Reservations for three.” He spared Luke an annoyed glance. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Luke said, but he didn’t take the hint and leave either. Instead he poured sour apple liquor into the shaker then reached for the lemon juice.

Clearly he meant to have his say with Rae and it wasn’t a discussion she wanted to have in front of Olivia and Geoffrey. In a way, Rae was grateful for Luke’s obstinacy. The less she had to endure Geoffrey’s company—the man who’d threatened her in this very house
last
Christmas—the better. Also, Olivia was already three sheets to the wind. She wouldn’t miss Rae for long, if at all.

Feigning nonchalance, Rae moved behind the bar and stood beside Luke. Her skin tingled, her pulse tripped. He’d only held her once, kissed her once, yet she recalled every detail of that tender, searing encounter—a brush with passion that would haunt her for the rest of her life. “Actually,” she said, speaking past the lump in her throat, “I’ve decided to skip the Wilshire in favor of spending time with Luke. He flew all this way and—”

“You’re going to waste a five-hundred-dollar plate?” Geoffrey asked.

“No waste,” Rae said, holding the industry kingpin’s intimidating gaze. “All proceeds go to charity. You two go on. Don’t give me a second thought,” she said, unconsciously leaning into Luke. “I’m in good hands.”

“Do tell,” Olivia said with raised brows.

Geoffrey worked his clean-shaven jaw. “What is it you do, Monroe?”

“You mean aside from mixing a mean appletini?” Luke asked, shaking and pouring.

While Olivia sampled his creation, Luke snaked an arm about Rae and held Geoffrey’s cold gaze.

Rae’s heart pounded. Because of Luke. Because of Geoffrey. Because she was trapped in a web of lies.

“Sweet heaven, this drink is
orgasmic
!” Olivia moaned in ecstasy. “You
must
try it, Geoff.”

“Pass. Could I have a word with you, Reagan?”

Rae’s stomach turned as the walls closed in. This situation had just gone from awkward to intolerable. The last person she wanted to be alone with was her so-called stepfather. “Aren’t you running late for dinner?” she asked. “I know we are.” She looked up at Luke, her panicked heart in her eyes. “Ready?”

Hand at the small of her back, Luke prompted her from behind the bar. “Nice meeting you, Ms. Deveraux. Mr.—”

“Stein. Geoffrey Stein. Of Stein & Beecham Industries. And you’re Luke Monroe.”

“Of the Sugar Creek Monroes,” Luke said as he escorted Rae toward a temporary reprieve. “We’re in the book.”

“A cab?”

“Had to get from the airport to your place somehow and since I don’t know the area and my time was limited, I opted for a cab.”

Rae shifted anxiously on her heels as Luke opened the rear door for her—mad as hell but still a gentleman. Heart pounding, she eased inside. “But a taxi from LAX to Bel Air? And you asked him to wait? We’re talking a lot of money, Luke.”

“Don’t talk to me about money right now, Rachel … Reagan … whatever the hell your name is. Not now.” He closed her door and rounded to the other side.

She swallowed hard as he slid in and buckled up. As supportive as he’d been inside where Geoffrey was concerned, in private he’d reverted to the angry man she’d greeted at the door. Six feet of hunky fury. “Rae,” she managed.

“What?”

“Call me Rae.”

Luke glared then shifted his attention to the driver. “Back to the airport, please.”

Rae blinked. “Flying in and out of LA in one day?”

“Skipped out on my family for Christmas Eve,” Luke said. “Need to be back for Christmas.”

“Why did you skip out at all?”

“Because I only just learned of your whereabouts and I had to know if…” He shook his head then dragged both hands down his face.

The man’s frustration crashed over Rae in suffocating waves. Unsettled, she cracked open the window and reminded herself to breathe. “Why are you here, Luke?”

“I need to know why you lied to us Rach …
Rae
. I need to know why you pretended to be someone you aren’t. Why you played us … me, Sam, the Cupcake Lovers … for suckers.”

“I didn’t—”

“You did.”

“It might seem that way, but it wasn’t intentional.”

“I’m all ears.”

Rae worried the handle of her purse, averted her gaze. She’d never been one to talk about her troubles. Luke’s scornful attitude wasn’t much of an enticement to change her ways. “How are things between you and Sam?”

“Not great.”

Luke’s cousin, a man who’d been smitten with Rae, had walked in on the one kiss she’d shared with Luke. Sam was above making a scene, but she’d felt the ferocity of his disappointment. It hadn’t been pretty. “I wrote him a letter. I apologized—”

“I know. He told me. It’s the only reason I knew you weren’t dead in a ditch somewhere.”

Rae’s heart warmed even as her stomach clenched. “You were worried about me?”

That whipped Luke’s head around. “Are you serious? You lived in Sugar Creek for a year. You were part of the community. A Cupcake Lover. A beloved teaching assistant. Maybe you didn’t care about us, but we cared about you!”

Another stab to her gut. Except they hadn’t cared about Rae, they’d cared about Rachel.

“So what?” he plowed on. “We were some kind of joy ride? Or maybe you lived in Sugar Creek on a dare? Wait. Let me guess. You were slumming. Seeing how the yokels live. Why Sugar Creek?”

“I threw a flipping dart at the map.” Rae was seething now. She’d had enough of Luke’s venom. If she wanted ugly, she would’ve hung back and joined her mother and Geoffrey.

He cast her a fiery glance.

Angry? Confused? Intrigued? Disgusted?

Rae couldn’t read Luke and she wasn’t sure she wanted to. Where was the charitable playboy she’d fallen in love with just months ago?

This cynical man jammed his hand through his already messy hair. “I need a drink.”

“Join the club.” Furious, disillusioned, Rae crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. She wished Luke would have stayed away. Her memories of Sugar Creek and the people who lived there were sacred. Luke was tainting the best year of her life. Plus, warping her vision of him as her knight in shining armor. The only man who’d ever defended her was now attacking her. The luxury homes lining Stone Canyon Road blurred as Rae fought back tears. She refused to cry.
Do. Not. Cry.

“What’s up with your mom’s friend?” Luke asked in a tight voice.

“Geoffrey’s her husband. Her fourth husband. Don’t you read the tabloids?”

“No.”

Still facing away, Rae closed her burning eyes and cursed her flippancy. Of course he didn’t read the tabloids. He probably skipped respected periodicals as well. Luke had a reading problem. She didn’t know to what extent. She’d picked up on the signs when she’d applied for a job at the Sugar Shack, his popular pub and restaurant. He actually had a keen knack for disguising the disability, but she had a stepbrother who’d suffered with dyslexia and she’d also studied learning disorders while earning her teaching degree.

“Is he always a dick?” Luke pressed. “Or did I just bring out his worst?”

Rae’s stomach knotted. She didn’t want to talk about Geoffrey. “How’s Daisy?” The eccentric but lovable matriarch of the Monroe family had been the first member of the Cupcake Lovers to praise Rae’s baking talents. The senior member’s glowing compliments warmed Rae to this day. If only Olivia had been half as nurturing.

“Gram’s fine,” Luke said. “She moved in with Vince.”

“They make a cute couple. Speaking of, how are your brother and Chloe doing?”

“If you’d bothered to stay in touch with any one of us you’d know,” Luke snapped. “Why the hell did you tell your mom you spent the last year in China? Volunteering with underprivileged children in a remote area.” He snorted. “Quite the story. What are you? A chronic liar? Disconnected with reality?”

Rae finally turned and, eyes now dry, glared at Luke. In all his scenarios he hadn’t once given her the benefit of the doubt. Yes, she’d lived in Sugar Creek under an assumed identity, but she’d lived a good life. She’d been a good person. Inheriting a fortune didn’t change who she was inside. How could Luke think so little of her? How had she thought so highly of him? “Better a chronic liar than a judgmental jerk.” Rae bolstered her shoulders then turned and beckoned the driver. “Pull in up ahead, please. The Hotel Bel Air.” She’d be hanged if she’d spend another minute in Luke Monroe’s irritating company.