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Day 3

Day 4

Day 6

Luke almost dropped his laptop on the floor as he bounded out of bed, dragged on the jeans and a T-shirt he’d tossed on a chair earlier and glanced at the clock.

It was 12:20 a.m. If he drove fast, he could get to New York in four hours.

Searching for his shoes, his mind whirled. Should he let her know what he was doing? No, he was afraid she’d have second thoughts and tell him not to come.

What would he need? Phone, keys, wallet. Oh, and the code to her father’s apartment. He jogged downstairs to the basement and found the boxes of New York stuff he’d packed away. It took him a half hour to rifle through them and get what he needed. He left the basement a mess, but finally, finally, his life was getting back on track.

S
TILL NO RESPONSE
.

Feeling like an idiot, Jayne sat before the computer with a heavy heart. It had been a half hour since she sent the message and Luke hadn’t e-mailed her back. She’d jumped the gun, acted too rashly by telling Luke to come to her. Oh, God, why had she been so spontaneous?

Because he’d always encouraged her to go with her heart. And because she was in love with him. Their e-mail exchange this past week had given her hope, given them both time to test the waters, and Jayne had realized that without him, nothing meant much in her life. Damn it, she
hadn’t
made a mistake by making the overture. It was time to tell Luke outright how she felt. It was time to stop running.

And if he wouldn’t come to her, she’d go to him. She’d tie things up here in New York tomorrow and drive to Riverdale to face Luke in person. She’d stay until she convinced him that they were good together and could make their relationship work. Her fear of trusting someone had been diluted by her feelings for Luke.

With the comfort of that thought, Jayne went back to bed. But she couldn’t fall asleep. She was too excited, too nervous, and now that she’d admitted it, let herself feel it, she wanted Luke more than anything in the world. Even more than another chance to make her way in architecture.

At dawn, she got up and threw on a robe to cover the peach-colored camisole and tap pants—why hadn’t she just told him she was wearing something provocative and played the sex angle better? She made coffee and was sipping it, watching the sun come up over the city, when a knock on the apartment door startled her.

No one could get inside the building and up to the apartment but her mother or father, who had the code. She hoped nothing was wrong.

Rushing to the foyer, she flung open the door and was shocked to find a very disreputable looking Luke standing in the hall. His clothes were wrinkled, he was unshaven, his eyes were bloodshot.

And he’d never looked better.

In typical Luke style, he gave her a once-over—the robe gaped open—and a smile curved the corners of his beautiful mouth. “Oh, man. Look at you.”

She bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry. “I told you to come see.”

“And I came.” He rolled his eyes. “Through god-awful construction and a gale-force rainstorm. I’m even double-parked so my car will probably get towed.” Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped inside and shut the door.

And Jayne threw herself at him. He held on to her. “I’m sorry,” and “I’m so sorry,” they said at once.

No more words. They just held each other, eyes closed, clasped tight.

After a few moments, Luke pulled back. His dark eyes glowed with suppressed emotion. “Want to talk first?” he asked hoarsely.

“No, take me to bed, then we’ll talk.”

Needing little encouragement, Luke picked her up and headed straight for the master bedroom, cradling her close to his heart. She clung to him, nuzzled into him, inhaled the scent that had haunted her nights.

On the drive down, Luke had promised himself that he wouldn’t rush her, that he’d take his time and gently woo her back to him, just like the first time they’d made love. But already his body was raging with need and he was feeling his control slip.

He managed to set her on the bed and sit next to her. Very slowly, he slid the robe off her shoulders, revealing bare skin that made his heart stop and his erection harder than granite. Still, he tugged at the strap of her teddy tenderly. It fell to the side and, leaning over, he kissed her silky skin, its texture and scent making him so aroused he could barely stand it. “I missed this spot right here,” he whispered at the crook of her neck.

“Luke, please…”

With hands that were now shaking, he drew the other strap down, then the teddy itself. Leaning in, bending his head, his mouth closed over a bared nipple. She bucked, grabbed the back of his neck. “Luke…”

“I want to go slow, to savor. I won’t hurry you. Into anything.” A quick nip. “I promise, sweetheart. I’m done fixing things.”

“No, no, not slow. I need you now.”

When he continued the gentle assault, she played dirty. She moved her hand to the fly of his jeans and pressed hard. “What the…shit, Jayne.”

She kept it up, yanking at the zipper until, to protect himself, he had to lean back. She freed him and took him between both her palms. He almost ricocheted off the bed.

“That’s it,” he said, standing abruptly and dragging off his jeans, then bending over to pull at the hem of her camisole. After he got it over her head, she leaned forward and put her mouth on him.

“Damn it, Jayne,” he said when he saw her siren’s smile. She knew exactly what she was doing.

After rolling on a condom so roughly he winced, he reached for her tap pants and was sorry they ripped, but he couldn’t help himself. Covering her body, locking their eyes, he plunged into her. She cried out and arched her hips forward. It only took two more thrusts and she came, fast and furious. Before she even finished, he followed suit.

After a couple of minutes of blissful oblivion, Luke managed to roll off her.

Jayne liked Luke’s weight on her, but was feeling so boneless, she couldn’t move to hold him in place. He drew her to his chest, where she cuddled willingly.

Neither said anything for a very long time.

Finally, he spoke. “I don’t know if I can ever make this all up to you, but I want to try.”

“I feel the same,” she confided, kissing his collarbone. “We were both wrong.”

“We can do it, sweetheart. I can win your trust back, and forget about what you did.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t forget, Luke. People make mistakes, like somebody very wise told me when I found out I’d caused the Coulter collapse.” She ran her hand over his pecs. “We made bad ones with each other.
You didn’t believe me and I was heartless to leave when you’d just gotten such bad news. Let’s acknowledge them and go on.”

“All right.” He rubbed her arm up and down, his callused fingers making her skin tingle. “And I’ve changed my mind about the job with Madison Conglomerates. You can’t join Scarborough Associates. You have to come back to Riverdale and work with me. You can be the architect for Harmony Housing, we’ll get the dog from Jess and Naomi—who are doing great, by the way—and we’ll live together in my house.”

Jayne chuckled. “I can see how much you’ve changed, how you aren’t going to fix things anymore.”

He chuckled. “Sorry.”

“I’ll do what you ask on one condition.”

“Anything.”

“That you marry me.”

“Hell, darlin’, I was just going to propose.”

They both laughed.

“I think we skipped a step, though,” he said.

Dreamily, she asked, “What was that?”

Moving over her again, he braced his elbows on either side of her head and brushed his knuckles over her cheek. He stared directly into her eyes, his shining like cat’s-eye marbles. “I love you, Jayne Logan. It’s been a damned crazy path that got us here, but I love you with all my heart.”

“Oh! I love you too. Very, very much.”

Again the sexy smile. “Good. Now that that’s settled, it’s time for round two.” His lower body pressed into her and she felt him swell against her.

“Whatever you say, Luke.”

“Yeah, like hell.” He grinned at her, added, “But for now, I’ll accept that,” and began kissing his way down her body.

ISBN: 978-1-4268-3835-4

BACK TO LUKE

Copyright © 2009 by Mary Catherine Schaefer.

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

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