Country Brides (18 page)

“Honey, you don't need to tell me that. I already know. Now sit down.” His tone was brusque, and his smile humorless.

“I'll stand if I choose.”

“Fine then. Look like a fool, if that's what you want.”

No sooner had the words left his lips than she lowered herself back into the chair. The fight had gone out of her as quickly as it had come. Absently she scooped up a handful of nuts and chewed them vigorously, taking her frustration out on them.

Luke pushed his plate aside and took her hand, squeezing it gently. “I'm your friend. I've always been your friend and I'll continue to be your friend as long as I live. Don't ever doubt that.”

Kate's eyes filled and her throat tightened painfully. “I know. It's just that this is so much more…exhausting than I thought it would be.”

Voices drew Kate's eyes to the front of the room, where Clay and Rorie were toasting each other with glasses of sparkling champagne. Soon flutes were being delivered around the room. Kate took one, holding the stem with both hands as if the champagne would lend her strength.

When the newlyweds were toasted, she took a sip. It bubbled and fizzed inside her mouth, then slid easily down her throat.

The soft strains of a violin drifted around the hall, and, mesmerized, Kate watched as Clay claimed his bride and led her onto the dance floor. Just watching the couple, so much in love, with eyes only for each other, heaped an extra burden of pain on Kate's shoulders. She looked away and, when she did, her gaze met Luke's. She tried to smile, to convince him she wasn't feeling a thing, but her effort failed dismally. Ready tears brimmed at the corners of her eyes and she bent her head, not wanting anyone to notice them, least of all Luke. He'd been wonderful; he'd been terrible. Kate couldn't decide which.

Soon others joined Clay and Rorie. First the matron of honor and then the bridesmaids and groomsmen, each couple swirling around the polished floor with practiced ease.

Luke got to his feet, walked to Kate's side and offered her his hand. His eyes held hers, silently demanding that she dance with him. Kate longed to tell him no, but she didn't have the energy to argue. It was simpler to give in than try to explain why she couldn't.

Together they approached the outskirts of the dance floor and Luke skillfully turned her into his arms.

“Everything's going to be all right,” he whispered as his hand slid around her waist.

Kate managed a nod, grateful for his concern. She needed Luke this evening more than she'd realized. One thing was clear; she'd never make it through the remainder of the night without him.

During the past few years, Luke had danced with Kate any number of times. She'd never given it a second thought. Now they danced to one song and then another, but when she slipped into his embrace a third time, and his fingers spread across the small of her back, a shiver of unexpected awareness skidded up her spine. Kate paused, confused. Her steps faltered and in what seemed like an attemt to help her, Luke pulled her closer. Soon their bodies were so close together Kate could hear the steady beat of Luke's heart against her own. The quickening rate of his pulse told her he was experiencing the same rush of excitement she was.

Kate felt so light-headed she was almost giddy. Luke's arms were warm and secure, a solid foundation to hold on to when her world had been abruptly kicked off its axis. It might have been selfish, but Kate needed that warmth, that security. Smiling up at him, she closed her eyes and surrendered to the warm sensations carried on the soft, lilting music.

“Kate, there's something I need to tell you about the Circle L—”

She pressed her fingers against his lips, afraid that words would ruin this feeling. Arms twined around his neck, she grazed his jaw with the side of her face, reveling in the feel of him. Male and strong. Lean and hard.

“All right,” he whispered, “we'll talk about it later.”

They continued dancing and Luke rubbed his face against her hair, mussing it slightly, but Kate didn't mind.

Like a contented cat, she purred softly, the low sound coming from deep in her throat. The music ended all too quickly and with heavy reluctance, she dropped her arms and backed up one small step. Silently they stood an inch or so apart until the music resumed, when they reached for each other once again.

But this time Kate decided to figure out what was happening between them. Knowing how much she loved Clay, Luke was trying to help her through the evening. Yes, that was it. And doing a fine job, too. She felt…marvelous. It didn't make sense to her that she should experience this strong, unexpectedly sensual attraction to Luke, but at the moment she didn't care. He was concerned and gentle and she needed him.

They remained as they were, not speaking, savoring these warm sensations, until Kate lost count of the number of times they'd danced.

When the band took a ten-minute break, Luke released her with an unwillingness that made her heart soar. As though he couldn't bear to be separated from her, he took her hand, lacing her fingers with his.

He was leading her back to their table when they were interrupted by Beth Hammond, a pert blonde, who'd hurried toward them. “Hello, Luke,” she said, ignoring Kate.

“Beth.” He bowed his head politely, but it was evident that he didn't appreciate the intrusion.

The other woman placed a proprietary hand on his arm. “You promised me a dance, remember?”

Kate's eyes swivelled from Beth, who was pouting prettily, to Luke, who looked testy and impatient.

“If you'll excuse me a minute, I'm going to get a drink,” Kate said. Her throat was parched and she didn't want to be left standing alone when the music started and Beth walked off with Luke.

The fruit punch was cold and refreshing, but she still felt warm. Kate decided to walk outside and let the cool night air clear her mind. Try though she might, she didn't really understand what was happening between her and Luke. It probably had to do with the confused state of her emotions, she decided. She'd think about it later.

The stars glittered like frost diamonds against a velvety black sky. Kate stood in the crisp evening air with her arms around her waist, gazing up at the heavens. She didn't hear Luke until he stepped behind her and lightly rested his hands on her shoulders. “I couldn't find you,” he said in a voice that was softly accusing.

Kate didn't want to discuss Beth Hammond. For as long as she could remember, the other woman had been going out of her way to attract him.

“It's beautiful out, isn't it?” she asked instead. Instinctively she nestled closer to Luke, reclining against the lean strength of his body, seeking his warmth.

“Beautiful,” he repeated, running his hands down her arms.

How content she felt with Luke, how comfortable—the way she imagined people felt when they'd been married for twenty years. But along with this familiar sense of ease, she experienced a prickle of anticipation. Her feelings were contradicting themselves. Secure and steady, and at the same time this growing sense of giddy excitement. It must be that glass of champagne.

The band started playing again and the music wafted outside. Gently Luke turned her to face him, slipping his hands around her as if to dance. Her arms reached for his neck, resuming their earlier position.

“We should talk,” he whispered close to her ear.

“No,” she murmured with a sigh. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to stand on the tips of her toes and brush her moist lips over his. Then she realized what she'd done. Her eyes widened and she abruptly stepped back, her heart hammering inside her chest.

Neither spoke. In the light that spilled from the hall, they stared at each other. Kate didn't know what her eyes told Luke, but his own were clouded with uncertainty. Kate half expected him to chastise her, or to tease her for behaving like such a flirt. Instead he reached for her once more, his eyes challenging her to stop him.

She couldn't.

The warmth of his mouth on hers produced a small sigh of welcome as her eyes slid languidly shut; she felt transported into a dreamworld, one she'd never visited before. This couldn't actually be happening, she told herself, and yet it felt so real. So right.

Luke's kiss was surprisingly tender, unlike anything she'd expected. “My darling Kate,” he breathed against her hair, “I've dreamed of this so often.”

“You have?” To her own ears, her voice sounded far, far away. Her head was swimming. If this was a dream, then she didn't want it to end. Sighing, she smiled beguilingly up at him.

“You little tease,” he said, and laughed softly. He rained light kisses on her forehead, the corners of her eyes and her cheek, until she interrupted his meandering lips, seeking his mouth with her own.

He seemed to want the kiss as much as she did, but apparently saw no need to rush the experience, as if he feared hurrying would spoil it. Kate's mouth parted, inviting a deeper union. His willing compliance was so effective it buckled her knees.

“Kate?” Still holding her, he drew back, tilting his head to study her. Boldly she met his look, her eyes dancing with mischief. If he'd been kissing her out of pity, she was past caring.

A long moment passed before a slow, thoughtful smile played across his lips. “I think I'd better get you inside.”

“No,” she said, surprised at how vehement she felt about returning to the reception hall and the newlyweds. “I don't want to go back there.”

“But—”

“Stay with me here. Dance with me. Hold me.” He'd said he wanted to take care of her. Well, she was giving him the opportunity. She leaned into him and sighed, savoring his strength and support. This was Luke. Luke Rivers. Her trusted friend. Surely he understood; surely he'd help her through this most difficult night of her life. “I want you with me.” She couldn't explain what was happening any more than she could deny it.

“You don't know what you're asking me.” He stared down at her, searching her features for a long, breathless moment. Then the cool tips of his fingers brushed her face, moving along her cheekbones, stroking her skin as if he expected her to vanish.

Kate caught his hand with her own and gazed into his dark eyes. They glittered like freshly polished onyx, full of light and a deep inner fire.

“I want you to kiss me. You taste so good.” She moistened her lips and leaned closer to him, so close that she could feel the imprint of his buttons against her body. So close that the beat of his heart merged with her own. Excitement shivered through her in tremors so intense they frightened her. But not enough to make her pull away.

Her words spurred Luke into action, and when he kissed her their lips met with hungry insistence. Sensation erupted between them until Kate was weak and dizzy, clinging to him for support, her fingers bunching the material of his jacket. When he lifted his head, ending the kiss, Kate felt nearly faint from the rush of blood to her pounding temples.

There was a look of shock on Luke's face. His eyes questioned her, but Kate's thoughts were as scattered as autumn leaves tossed by the wind.

“How much champagne have you had?” he asked softly.

“One glass,” she answered with a sigh, resting her forehead against his heaving chest. Luke hadn't said taking care of her would be this wonderful. Had she known, she wouldn't have resented it quite so much earlier.

Luke expelled a harsh breath. “You 've had more than one glass. I doubt you even know who I am.”

“Of course I do!” she flared. “You 're Luke. Now don't be ridiculous. Only…”

“Only what?”

“Only you never kissed me before. At least not like that. Why didn't you tell me you were so good at this?” Finding herself exceptionally witty, she began to laugh.

“I'm taking you home,” Luke said firmly, grabbing her elbow with such force that she was half lifted from the walkway.

“Luke,” she cried. “I don't want to go back yet.”

His grip relaxed immediately. “Kate Logan, you're drunk! Except you don't have the sense to know it.”

“I most certainly am not!” She waved her index finger at him like a schoolmarm. “I 'll have you know that it takes a lot more than one glass of champagne to do me in.”

Luke obviously wasn't willing to argue the point. His hand cradling her elbow, he led her toward the parking lot.

“I want to stay,” she protested.

He didn't answer. Then it dawned on her that perhaps she'd misread Luke. Maybe he was trying to get rid of her so he could return to Beth.

“Luke?”

“Kate, please, don't argue with me.”

“Are you in love with Beth?”

“No.” His answer was clipped and impatient.

“Thank heaven.” Her hand fluttered over her heart. “I don't think I could bear it if you were.”

Luke stopped abruptly and Kate realized they were standing in front of his truck. He opened the passenger door for her, but she had no intention of climbing in. At least not yet. She wanted to spend more time with Luke, their arms wrapped around each other the way they'd been before. The pain that had battered her heart for weeks had vanished the instant she stepped into his arms.