In the Heat of the Spotlight (11 page)

Despite her wonder and worry about what might happen later, she still enjoyed every minute of the evening spent by Luke’s side. A dinner for the VIP guests had been arranged in the conservatory on top of the store, with the lights of Singapore stretched out in a twinkling map on three sides, and the bay with its bobbing yachts and sailing boats on the other. A silver sickle moon hung above them, and she felt the warm pressure of Luke’s hand on the small of her back.

‘Are you having a good time?’

‘Very.’ She turned to smile at him. ‘You’ve done an amazing job with all these openings. I’ve heard a lot of great things about the new design of the store.’

‘I’ve heard a lot of great things about your new song.’

She let out a little laugh. ‘If you hadn’t started clapping, I’m not sure anyone would have.’

‘They would have. They just needed a little nudge.’

‘Maybe next time you should hold up cue cards. Flash “Clap” in big letters as soon as I finish.’

‘Next time they’ll know. There were a lot of media people out there in the audience tonight. Word will get around.’

She drew a deep breath and let it out rather shakily. ‘That’s a scary thought.’

‘Is it?’

‘I don’t know what the response will be.’

‘Does it matter?’

She stared at him, surprised, until she realised it
didn’t
matter. She hadn’t written or performed the song to impress people or even make them change their minds about her. She didn’t even want a comeback. She wanted...this.

Acceptance and understanding of who she was, not by a faceless crowd or the world at large, but by Luke—and by herself. And somehow he’d known that even before she had.

‘Come on,’ he said, ‘I have some people I want you to meet.’ And with his hand still on her back he guided her through the room.

* * *

Luke watched Aurelie chat and laugh with the CEO of the Orchard Bank of Singapore and felt something inside him swell. He loved her like this, natural and friendly and free. He loved
her
.

The thought, sliding so easily into his mind, made him still even as he attempted to keep involved in the conversation. He was trying to negotiate a new deal with a local clothes retailer to design exclusively for Bryant’s. It would be an important agreement, and he couldn’t afford to insult the CEO across from him.

And yet...he loved her? After just a few short days? When he still couldn’t really say he knew her, not the way he’d known the three women with whom he’d had significant relationships. They’d dated for years, had known each other’s peeves and preferences, had run their relationship like a well-oiled machine. And yet now he felt he could barely remember their faces. Had he loved them? Not like this, maybe not at all. He’d been emotionally engaged, certainly, although it hadn’t hurt that much when they’d mutually agreed to end it.

But this? Her? It felt completely different. Completely overwhelming and intoxicating and scary. Was that love? Did he want it, if it was?

Did he have a choice?

And could she love him, when there were things he hadn’t told her? Failures and weaknesses he hadn’t breathed a word about? His insides clenched at the thought. She’d been slowly and deliberately baring herself—her soul, her secrets—while he’d kept his firmly locked away.

Could love exist with that kind of imbalance?

‘Mr Bryant?’

Too late Luke realised he hadn’t heard a word the man in front of him had said. He swallowed, tried to smile.

‘I’m sorry?’

Several hours later Luke found Aurelie laughing with the wife of a foreign diplomat and placed a proprietorial hand on the small of her back. He liked being able to touch her in this small way, even if the ways he really wanted to touch her—had been dreaming of touching her—were still off-limits. He’d told her he wouldn’t touch her until she wanted him to, until she was certain, and he knew she wasn’t yet. He saw the shadows in her eyes even when she was smiling.

‘I’m sorry to steal Aurelie away from you,’ he told the woman, ‘but we have a full day tomorrow and she needs her rest.’ He smiled to take any sting from the words, and the woman nodded graciously. ‘Been having a nice time?’ he asked Aurelie as they headed down to the limo he had waiting.

‘Amazing, actually. I thought it would be completely boring, but it wasn’t.’

‘That’s refreshingly honest.’

She laughed, the sound unrestrained, natural. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to be insulting. It’s just I’ve gone to so many parties and receptions and things and it’s always been so exhausting.’

‘Another performance.’

‘Exactly. But it wasn’t tonight. I was just able to be myself.’ She shook her head slowly. ‘I never thought that playing my song would give me anything but a kind of vindication that I could be something other than a pop star, but it has. It’s made me feel like I can be myself...anywhere. With anyone.’ She paused before adding softly, ‘With you.’

She gazed up at him with those wide stormy-sea eyes and Luke felt that insistent flare of lust. He wanted her so badly. His palms itched with the need to slide down the satiny skin of her shoulders, fasten on her hips. Draw her to him and taste her sweetness.

She must have seen something of that in his face because her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and she took a hesitant step closer to him. ‘Luke—’

He didn’t know what he might have done then, if he would have taken her in his arms just as he’d imagined and wanted, but then the doors pinged open and a crowd of guests moved aside to let them pass. Luke let out a shaky breath and led Aurelie towards the limo.

They didn’t speak in the intimate darkness of the car, but he felt the tension coiling between and around them. Felt her thigh press against his own when the limo turned a curve, and the length of his leg felt as if it had been dusted with a shower of sparks. He heard, as if amplified, every draw and sigh of her breath, the thud of his own heart.

He hadn’t felt this overwhelmed by desire since he’d been about eighteen. He let out another audible, shaky breath and stared blindly out of the window.

They remained silent as the limo pulled in front of the hotel, and then in the lift up to their separate suites on the same floor. Luke took out his keycard; it was slick in his hand. His mouth had dried but he forced himself to speak. To sound as if he were thinking of anything other than hauling Aurelie into his arms and losing himself deep inside her.

‘So. Another big day tomorrow.’

‘Is it? What’s the schedule exactly?’

Was he imagining that she sounded just a little breathless? Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes bright. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and Luke’s gaze was irresistibly drawn to the movement, the curve of her ear and the elegant line of her neck.

He swallowed. ‘We fly to Hong Kong, spend a day touring the city with some officials and then have the opening on the following day, along with a reception. Then two days’ rest and on to Tokyo.’

‘Right.’ She glanced away, and the lift doors swooshed open. Luke walked down the corridor, conscious, so conscious, of Aurelie by his side. The whisper of her dress against her bare legs, the citrusy scent of her, the way each breath she took made her chest rise and fall.

She stopped in front of the door to her suite, and he stopped too. She waited, her hand on the door, her eyes wide. Expectant. But he’d promised himself—and her—that he wouldn’t touch her until she asked. Until no uncertainty remained.

Standing there, he knew that time had not yet come. Unfortunately for him.

‘Goodnight, Aurelie.’ He cupped her cheek, just as he had the night before, because despite all his promises he couldn’t resist touching her, just a little. Aurelie closed her eyes. Waited. It would be so easy to brush his lips against hers, to deepen the kiss he knew she wanted. But it was too soon, and he’d still seen the shadows in her eyes.

With a supreme act of will he dropped his hand from her face. He smiled—at least he thought he did—and walked down the hall towards his own lonely suite of rooms.

* * *

Aurelie stepped inside her empty suite and leaned against the door, her eyes closed.

Damn.

Why hadn’t he kissed her? He’d wanted to, she knew that. She’d wanted him to, had willed him to close that small space between them, but instead he’d pulled away.

Maybe you didn’t know what you wanted. And until you do, completely, I’m not going to touch you.

His words from yesterday reverberated through her, made her think. Wonder. Was he waiting for her to take the lead? To say she had no more uncertainty, no more fear?

Did she?

No. She was still afraid. She’d been telling Luke the truth when she said she’d never enjoyed sex. If she’d been totally honest, she would have told him she dreaded it. Hated it, and yet used it because at least then she had some control.

And now? She wanted sex—sex with Luke—to be something different. Something more. And that terrified her more than another bout of unenjoyable coupling.

She opened her eyes, paced the room, her mind racing. She wanted this. She wanted Luke. And, just like with her song, with the trust, with the intimacy, she knew she needed to push past the fear. For her sake as much as Luke’s.

So...what did that mean, exactly? Right here, right now? She ran her now-damp palms down the sides of her dress. Brushed her teeth and hair, applied a little perfume. And then before she could overthink it and start to get really nervous, she went in search of Luke.

CHAPTER NINE

L
UKE
yanked open his laptop and stared at the spreadsheet he’d left up on the screen. Work was as good an antidote as any to sexual frustration. He didn’t have any better ideas, at any rate.

Sighing, he raked his hands through his hair, loosened his tie and stared hard at the screen.

Five minutes later a knock sounded on the door of his suite.

Luke tensed. He wasn’t expecting anyone, and his staff would call or text him before disturbing him in his private quarters. So would anyone from the hotel. Another knock, soft, timid. He knew who it was.

‘Hello, Aurelie.’ He stood in front of the doorway, drinking her in even though he’d seen her just a few minutes ago. Her hair looked even more tousled, her lips soft and full. She’d sunk her teeth into the lower one and he could see the faint bite marks.

‘May I come in?’

It reminded him, poignantly, of when he’d first come to her house in Vermont. How he’d asked, how she’d been so reluctant to let him in.

As reluctant as he was now, because he knew how weak he was when it came to this woman. ‘All right.’ He stepped aside, felt her dress whisper across him as she passed by. ‘Do you need something?’ he asked as he closed the door. He heard how formal and stiff he sounded, and he could tell she did too.

Her mouth quirked upwards and she took a deep breath. ‘Yes. You.’

God help him. Her direct look, eyes wide, lips parted, had pure lust racing right through him. He clenched his fists, unclenched them. Breathed deep. ‘I don’t think this is a good idea, Aurelie.’

‘Funny, I think you’ve said that before.’

‘I know. And it wasn’t a good idea then, either.’ Hurt flashed across her face and she glanced away. ‘It’s too soon,’ Luke said quietly. ‘This is too important to rush things.’

She took a step towards him. ‘Maybe it’s too important to hold back.’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t think you’re ready.’

‘Shouldn’t I be the judge of that?’

‘Yes, but—’ He hesitated. Wondered just why he was fighting this so much. Then he remembered the look on her face when he’d rolled off her before, as if she’d been cast in stone. He’d felt...he’d felt almost like a rapist. Sighing, he raked a hand through his hair and sank onto the sofa. ‘Why don’t you sit down?’

Gingerly she sat across from him. He thought of how he’d first met her, the cold cynicism in her eyes, the outrageous smile, the constant innuendo. She was so different now, so real and beautiful and vulnerable. He was so afraid of hurting her. Of failing her.

It was a fear, he acknowledged bleakly, that had dogged him for most of his life. Twenty-five years, to be precise, since he’d battered helpless fists against a locked door, begged his mother to let him in. Tried to save her...and failed.

This is your fault, Luke.

He blinked, forced the memory away. He hardly ever thought of it now, had schooled himself not to. Yet Aurelie’s fragile vulnerability brought it all rushing back, made him agonisingly aware of his own responsibility—and weakness.

‘It’s not as if I’m a virgin,’ she said, clearly trying to sound light and playful and not quite achieving it. ‘Even if you’re acting as if I am.’

‘In some ways you are,’ Luke answered bluntly. ‘If you’ve never enjoyed sex—’

‘I’m what? An enjoyment virgin?’ Her eyebrows rose, and he saw a faint remnant of the old mockery there.

‘An emotional one, perhaps.’

She sighed. ‘Semantics again.’

‘I don’t know what sex has been to you in the past, but it’s not anything I want it to be with me.’

A blush touched her cheeks. ‘I know that. I want it to be different.’

‘How?’

She swallowed. ‘Maybe you should tell me what it’s been to you in the past.’

Now he swallowed. Looked away. He was so not used to these kinds of conversations. Honesty and emotional nakedness were two totally different things. ‘Well, I suppose it’s been an expression of affection.’
Coward.
‘Of...of love.’

They stared at each other, the silence taut with unspoken words, feelings too new and fragile to articulate. ‘Did you love the women you’ve been with before?’ Aurelie asked in a low voice.

‘I suppose I thought I did. But honestly, I’m not sure.’ He raked a hand through his hair. ‘It didn’t feel like this.’

This.
Whatever was between them, whatever they were building. Luke didn’t know how strong it was, whether a single breath would knock it all down.

‘That’s what I want,’ Aurelie finally managed, her voice no more than a husky whisper. ‘I know we’ve only known each other a short while and I’m not saying—’ She cleared her throat. ‘I’m not trying to, you know, jump the gun.’

His mouth twisted wryly. ‘Aren’t you?’

‘Well, not the emotional gun. Physically, maybe.’

He shook his head slowly. ‘They go together, Aurelie. That’s the only kind of sex I want with you.’

He saw the fear flash in her eyes but she didn’t look away. ‘That’s what I want, Luke. That’s what I want with you.’

And he wanted to believe her. Yet still he hesitated; they’d only known each other, really, for a handful of days. Intense days, yes, amazing days. But still just days.

‘Please,’ she whispered, her voice low and smoky, and he felt his resistance start to crumble. Not that there had really been much to begin with. He was honest enough—hell, yes, he had to be—to know that any resistance he’d given had been token, merely a show. He wanted this too.

‘Anything that happens between us,’ he said, his tone turning almost severe, ‘happens at a pace I control.’

She stilled for just a second, then gave him a small smile. ‘Yes, boss.’

‘And if I think it isn’t...it isn’t working, then we stop.
I
stop. Got that?’

‘Got it.’

Hell. He hadn’t exactly set the mood, had he? Yet he wanted her to know he wasn’t going to rush things, take advantage. In this crucial moment, he wanted her to trust him. He wanted to trust himself.

He swallowed, felt her gaze, wide-eyed and expectant, on him. He could not think of a single thing to say.

A tiny smile hovered around Aurelie’s mouth and her eyes lightened with mischief. ‘So what now?’

‘Hell if I know.’

And then she laughed, a joyous bubble of sound, and he laughed too, and he felt them both relax. Maybe it would be okay after all. Maybe it would even be wonderful.

He stood up, held his hand out to her. She took it instantly, instinctively, trusting him already. ‘Come on.’

He led her to the bedroom in the back of the suite, two walls of windows overlooking the inky surface of Marina Bay. Aurelie only had eyes for the bed. It was big, wide and piled with pillows in different shades of blue silk. She turned to him and licked her lips, a question in her eyes.

‘Let’s just relax.’ He kicked off his shoes, took off his tie and stretched out on the bed. Aurelie sat on its edge and took off her boots. Gingerly she scooted up next to him, lay her head back on the pillows. Luke laughed softly. ‘You look like you’re on an examining table.’

‘I feel a bit like that too.’

‘We’re not rushing this, you know.’

‘I almost wish you would.’

‘Oh?’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘You think you’d enjoy that?’

Now she laughed, the soft sound trembling on the air. ‘Probably not.’

Gently he traced the winged arches of her eyebrows, the curve of her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed and he let himself explore the graceful contours of her face with his fingertips: the straight line of her nose, the fullness of her lips. ‘Tell me,’ he asked after a moment, ‘what your favourite room is in your house in Vermont.’

‘What?’ Her eyes opened and she stared at him in surprise. Luke smiled and gently closed them again with his fingertips.

‘Your favourite room,’ he repeated and continued to stroke her face with whisper-light touches. He felt her relax, just a little.

‘The kitchen, I suppose. I always remember my grandmother there.’

‘She liked to bake?’

‘Yes—’

‘And you helped her that summer?’

Her eyes opened again, clear with astonishment. ‘Yes—’ Gently he nudged them closed once more. She relaxed back into the pillows again. ‘I always liked helping her with things,’ she said after a moment. ‘I suppose because she always liked me to help.’

‘You must miss her,’ Luke said quietly, and she gave a little nod.

‘You must miss your mother,’ she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper, and for a second his fingers stilled on her face. He hadn’t expected her to say
that
. She opened her eyes, gave him a small smile. ‘This honesty thing? You told me it went both ways.’

‘Yes.’ But he really didn’t want to talk about his mother.

‘Do you miss her?’

‘Yes.’ He swallowed, felt his throat thicken. ‘Every day.’ Gently he traced the outline of her parted lips with his fingers and then slowly, deliberately, dropped his finger to her chin. Rested it there for a moment. ‘You know, the first time I met you I knew the truth of you from your chin.’

‘My chin?’

‘It quivers when you’re upset.’

She laughed softly. ‘No one’s ever told me that before.’

‘Maybe no one’s ever noticed.’ He lowered his head and pressed a kiss to the point of her chin. He felt her still, hold her breath.
Wait.
He lifted his head and smiled. ‘I like it.’

‘I’m glad.’

He touched her chin once more with his fingertip, and then trailed it slowly down the curve of her neck, rested it in the sweet little hollow of her throat. Stroked. He heard her breath hitch and she shifted on the bed. Luke felt the impatient stirring of his own desire. He’d told her they’d go slowly, and he meant it. Even if it was a rather painful process for him. ‘Your skin is so soft. I thought that the first time I met you too.’

‘You didn’t.’

‘I did. I was attracted to you from the moment you opened your eyes. Why do you think I was so ticked off?’

She let out a shuddery little laugh as he continued to stroke that little hollow. ‘Because I was passed out and running late, I thought.’

‘That was just my cover.’ He let his finger trace a gentle line from the hollow of her throat down to the vee between her breasts. And he rested it there, the sides of her breasts softly brushing his finger, and waited.

Her cheeks were faintly flushed now, and her eyes had fluttered closed. He heard her breath rise and fall with a slight shudder and he felt a deep surge of satisfaction. She wanted this. She wanted him. He trailed his finger back up to that hollow, and she opened her eyes.

‘This is going to take forever.’

He laughed softly. ‘Not forever, I hope. That would kill me.’ He let his finger trail back down, brushed the soft sides of her breasts this time, and felt her shiver. ‘But long enough.’ He pressed his lips to the hollow of her throat and then he slid his palm down to cup the soft fullness of her breast. She tensed for a second and then relaxed into the caress with a soft sigh.

Luke felt a powerful surge of protectiveness. He wanted to do this right. But it was killing him to go so slowly, to take the time he knew she needed. He flicked his thumb over the peak of her nipple and heard her indrawn breath, then another sigh. He smiled and moved his hand lower, onto the taut muscles of her tummy.

She opened her eyes, gazed up at him. ‘You’re being incredibly patient.’

‘It’s worth it.’

‘You don’t know that.’

‘I know.’ He slid his hand lower, down to her bare knee, and rested it there. Watched her eyes widen in expectation, maybe alarm. He stroked the back of her knee, down to the slender bones of her ankle, and then back up again. A little further up, so his fingers brushed the tender, silky skin of her inner thigh and then down again to the safety of that knee.

She let out a little laugh. ‘You’re torturing me.’

‘Am I?’ With his other hand he touched her cheek, the fullness of her lower lip, her chin, the hollow of her throat. Saw her eyes go hazy and dark with desire. She reached her hands up and tangled them in his hair, drew him closer.

‘Kiss me,’ she commanded, her voice husky, and Luke obliged.

He brushed his lips across her once, twice, and then went deep, tasting her as she tasted him. His hand tightened instinctively on her knee, slid upwards. She parted her legs and he felt her hands go to the buttons of his shirt.

‘Too many clothes,’ she mumbled against his mouth, and in a couple of quick shrugs—and a few buttons popping—he was free of his shirt, the garment tossed to the floor.

‘How about your dress?’

She swallowed, nodded, and he slid the skinny straps from her shoulders. One quick, sinuous tug on the zip on the back and she shimmied out of the dress, kicking it away from her ankles.

Luke gazed at her. He’d seen her in her underwear before, of course, but he still loved to look at her. He let his gaze travel back up to her face, those wide, stormy eyes. ‘Okay?’ he asked quietly, and she nodded.

Still he waited. She nodded towards his trousers. ‘Maybe you should deal with those.’

‘Maybe you should.’

She arched her eyebrows, then smiled and nodded. Luke bit down on a groan as her fingers brushed his arousal. She fumbled a bit with the belt and zip, which made it all the more of an exquisite torture. Then she slid his trousers off his hips, and he kicked them the rest of the way. All they were wearing was their underwear, and it felt like way too much clothing to him. He smoothed his hand from her shoulder to her hip, revelling in the feel of her satiny skin. She shivered under his touch and he moved his hand upwards again, cupped her breast and smiled as she arched into his hand.

He kissed her again, deeply, and felt her respond, her arms coming around him, one leg twining with his. He moved his hand lower, across her tummy to the juncture of her thighs. Waited there, feeling her warmth, until she parted her legs and he slipped his fingers inside her underwear, felt her tense and then will herself to relax, arching her hips upwards as his fingers explored and teased her.

He felt his control slipping a notch as her own hand skimmed his erection and their tongues tangled, heard her breathing hitch—or was it his? He was so, so ready for this, and she
felt
ready—