Josie Day Is Coming Home (34 page)

Since Blue Moon had about twenty rooms, that meant…
ah,
never mind
, he decided as she flung her arms around his neck and pressed
herself tighter against him. The bottom line was, that meant life was good.

Really
good.

That night—okay, that
morning
, since they didn’t make
it to sleep until near sunrise—Luke dreamed of hammering. He dreamed of
pounding, of clanking, of a persistent clattering just at the edge of
his…hell. That wasn’t a dream. That was real knocking. Someone was knocking
at his front door.

Ignoring it, he rolled over, feeling his muscles stretch. He
sighed. He slung his arm over Josie’s middle and pulled her closer to him. A
warm, bone-deep sort of contentment washed over him, unlike anything he’d ever
experienced before.

Maybe it was her bed. Her bed, with its flowery sheets and
mounds of pillows, felt far cozier than his ever had. But Luke knew it was
really her. Really Josie. Snuggling against him, she looked almost as beautiful
asleep as she did awake.

Happily, he gazed at her. One of her false eyelashes was
crooked. Her mouth hung open in a fly catcher of a gaping maw. Ding Dong icing
smudged in her hair.

He smiled. She looked great to him, even now. But when she
was awake, there was love in her eyes. That made her more beautiful than
anything else ever could.

Ah. Drowsily, Luke contemplated the coming day. After he’d given
Josie sufficient time to recuperate, he’d fix her breakfast in bed. Froot
Loops, toast, juice. The perfect balanced breakfast—even the box said so. Then
he’d take her outside for a walk and show her his favorite place on the
estate—a spot where the mountain runoff formed a stream, with a pretty little
waterfall at the end of it. She’d like that.

Maybe he’d bring a blanket. They could lie down together
beneath the pine trees. He could kiss her beneath the open sky, and before they
knew it they’d be—

Knock. Knock. Pound.

Jesus. Whoever was down there was damned persistent.
Frowning, Luke edged across the mattress, trying not to wake Josie. The hearty
door-knocker downstairs was probably a real estate agent, a door-to-door
salesperson, a pain-in-the-ass neighbor. Obviously, he was going to have to get
rid of them.

He couldn’t remember where he’d left his jeans last night.
Probably outside the west wing shower, along with some of his stamina and many
of his misperceptions about how demure women were when it came to sex. Luke
grabbed a blanket from the chest at the end of Josie’s bed and wrapped it
around his middle. There. That would have to be good enough for telling whoever
kept knocking at his freaking door to go away.

He trundled downstairs, running a hand through his bed head
hair. He squinted against the sunlight streaming in through the mullioned
windows and felt his whiskery jawline. Whoever was at the door was going to get
an eyeful, but Luke didn’t care. He just wanted to make sure Josie didn’t wake up
before she was properly rested for that streamside picnic he had in mind.

“Yoo-hoo!” came a familiar voice from the front
porch. “Josie, my dear! Do let us in. Ambrose is having a panic attack at
the thought of being bitten by a mosquito.”

“Mosquitoes carry malaria,” came an also-familiar,
but more evenhanded, voice. “Not to mention the West Nile virus. If you’d
given me time to apply some insect repellent before we left our hotel—”

Oh, Christ.
Filled with foreboding, Luke yanked open
the door. His aunt Tallulah—and her attorney, the absentee Ambrose—stood
cooling their heels on Blue Moon’s threshold.

“Luke!” his aunt cried in surprise.

Ambrose tilted his head at an inquisitive angle.
“Luke.”

Luke, despite being well-identified by that point, unleashed
a word far less mentionable.

“Watch your language,” Tallulah snapped. “And
get out of the way. We’ve been waiting here for
ages.
”

“Fourteen minutes,” Ambrose clarified.

His aunt stepped into the foyer. No, Luke amended, she
glided
into the foyer, like the
Queen Mary
coming to port. She kept her head at
a regal angle. Her barrel-shaped body seemed to move without the benefit of
bendable joints. He hadn’t seen her in person for months, but her gray hair,
steely expression, and indomitable spirit seemed unchanged.

Ambrose followed her, peering with interest at the mansion.
His suit looked immaculate, his posture West Point worthy, his gaze, when he
looked at Tallulah standing just in front of him…holy shit. His gaze looked
soft and warm with affection.

With
love.

Luke blinked. He had to be hallucinating. Nobody looked at
Tallulah that way. The old battle-ax—much as he loved her himself—didn’t
exactly inspire sappy poetry and dedicated admirers. Ernest Carlyle had been
just her speed, tough and no-nonsense and powerful. But Ambrose?

Ambrose was obviously an old softie at heart. Amazingly, his
aunt didn’t seem to mind that a bit. Luke was still gawking when she turned in
search of her attorney and…no
way
…put her hand in his. Voluntarily.
Even tenderly.

“What are you doing here?” he demanded.

“That’s a fine way to treat your favorite aunt. I might
ask
you
the same thing.”

Luke waited, arms crossed.

“I’m surprising
you
, apparently.”
Tallulah’s gaze dropped to the blanket around his waist. Her lips pursed in
evident disapproval. “You look like a squatter.”

Leave it to her to go on the offensive immediately.

“I look like somebody just woke me up. If you don’t
like it, don’t knock on people’s doors at—”

“Ten-thirty-two,” Ambrose specified. “Long
past time for civilized people to be awake.”

“I’m not civilized.”

His aunt and her attorney both seemed to agree. After
another censorious sweep of Luke’s impromptu blanket cover-up, Tallulah raised
her curious face to Ambrose’s.

“Do we have the wrong estate? I thought this was the
one I gave to that showgirl. You know, Josie Day.”

“You did. You gave her Blue Moon. This is Blue
Moon.”

Tallulah looked bewildered. “If that’s so, then what’s
Luke doing here? Especially naked?”

“I’m not naked. I’m wearing a blanket. You woke me
up.” Releasing an exasperated sigh, Luke clenched his blanket tighter to
his waist. Clearly this was going to take longer than he’d expected. “I’ll
go change.”

But even as he spoke, his aunt’s expression changed. She
spotted something over Luke’s shoulder, and a broad smile spread over her face.

“There you are, Red!” she called. “Come on
down here!”

Red.
It had to be Josie. Josie, who still didn’t know
the truth about Luke’s ownership of Blue Moon. And Tallulah and Ambrose, who
definitely
did
. Once they started talking…hell. Why hadn’t he seen
this coming?

Gripped with dread, Luke turned.

Josie stood at the top of the stairs, her face pale and
confused beneath a tumble of vivid hair. She’d shrugged into her shortie robe.
Her legs looked long and lithe beneath it. But her expression… Her expression
filled him with a sense of apprehension so strong it rooted him to the spot.

Slowly, she started down the stairs.

“I didn’t want to wake you,” he called, gesturing
lamely at his aunt and Ambrose. “I heard somebody at the door, so I—”

“Save it.” Tilting her chin, Josie reached the
bottom of the stairs. She didn’t come any closer, and she didn’t look any
happier. She directed her gaze at Tallulah. “Are you here to take back
Blue Moon? I know I don’t have the deed yet, but it’s supposed to be on its
way. We had an agreement. A contract.” She angled her head in a brusque
greeting. “Ambrose.”

He smiled gently. “A pleasure to see you again, Miss
Day.”

Josie only stood there, looking from Ambrose to Tallulah.
The defensiveness in her stance confused Luke—until he remembered she still
thought she owned Blue Moon. Clearly, she felt threatened by Tallulah’s arrival
and wanted to protect her rights to the place. This was a side of her Luke
hadn’t seen before. A side of her he respected.

He stepped toward her. “Josie, before this goes any
further, I have to tell you—”

“No, I
can’t
take the place away from you,”
Tallulah boomed, interrupting him. She hurried to Josie’s spot beside the
banister, looking—if Luke hadn’t known better—almost embarrassed. “That’s
not why I’m here. Not exactly.”

Ambrose cleared his throat meaningfully.

“Hold your horses. I’m getting there.” Tallulah
cast an over-the-shoulder glance at her attorney. Then she leaned toward Josie
in a girl-to-girl fashion. “Ever since we got married, he thinks he can
boss me around. Humph. Does
he
have a few surprises in store.”

“Married?” For an instant, Josie’s face cleared.
“Wow! That’s wonderful! Congratulations.”

“We did it at the
Extravaganza
‘s on-board
wedding chapel. Nice place. What a night!” Tallulah confided. “All
those champagne toasts. I’ve never had so much fun! I wore my pearls. Ambrose
likes them. He says—”

“
Married
?” Luke blurted.

“Yes, married,” Tallulah said. “Happily
married.”

“Your aunt is a wonderful woman,” Ambrose added
stiffly.

“I
thought
I detected a spark between you
two.” Josie wagged her finger, smiling at them both. Probably she thought
her claim on Blue Moon was secure. “I have to say, I’ve never seen you
look better. You’re absolutely glowing.”

Tallulah preened. “Well, it never would’ve happened if
not for that cruise. Ambrose positively swept me off my feet.”

“I had to,” Ambrose said, sparing her a fond
glance. “That cruise was my golden opportunity. My last chance to declare
myself. If I hadn’t gotten my Tallulah alone on that ship, away from her usual
duties and distractions, I simply don’t believe we would be here together
today.”

He squeezed Tallulah’s hand. Tallulah giggled. Was that a
blush on his aunt’s cheeks? Luke wondered. Surreal. Still, if this was the news
they’d come to share, he’d have a chance to tell Josie the truth about Blue
Moon himself. The way he should have last night, when he’d first tried to.

“I
have
been a little grouchy lately,”
Tallulah agreed.

“You had good reason. But that doesn’t matter a whit.
No longer, my love.”

They leaned together and kissed. Luke couldn’t believe his
eyes.

“Get your paws off my aunt!”

An eye roll. “He’s my husband now.”

“I don’t care. You two are giving me the
heebie-jeebies.”

“Yes. Well.” Ambrose cleared his throat again.
“‘Heebie-jeebies’ aside, Luke is correct. My courtship rituals are not
quite appropriate conversational fodder, especially given the circumstances. We
should get back to the business at hand.”

Not the least bit chastened, Tallulah went on. “What he
means is, I should quit blathering and get on with what we came here to tell
you,” she said to Josie. “See, the truth is, Red, I can’t take Blue
Moon away from you. Because it was never mine to give.”

Luke caught Josie’s puzzled glance. No, no, no….not like
this.

She crossed her arms. “Never yours? What do you
mean?”

“I know it sounds confusing,” Tallulah said,
reluctance dampening her voice. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t know about
any of this until yesterday when Ambrose finally came clean about what he’d
done.”

Her attorney looked chagrined. “What Tallulah means to
say, Miss Day, is that she made a mistake in giving you Blue Moon. It simply
wasn’t available for dispersal. The property already had—
has
—an
owner.”

“Although what he’s doing squatting here,”
Tallulah said, shooting Luke a puzzled glance, “and not living the high
life at one of his other estates, I can’t imagine. It’s not as though my nephew
is lacking in resources.”

That wasn’t strictly true, Luke knew. But apparently his aunt
was the only family member who
hadn’t
yet heard of his feud with his
father—and his subsequent cut-off from the family fortune.

“Your…nephew?” Josie repeated.

“Of course.” Tallulah frowned at Luke. “You
two look pretty cozy. He must have told you.
Luke.
Luke owns Blue Moon,
along with several other—”

“Not anymore,” he said through gritted teeth.

“—estates, an oceanfront condo, a place on the upper
east side in New York, several motorcycles and cars—including a perfectly
ostentatious Ferrari—a yacht…”

Josie’s mouth dropped open. Tallulah rambled on, reciting
all the things Luke had so recently lost. He couldn’t listen. None of those
things mattered as much to him as what stood at risk right now.

Josie.

“You mean he never told you?” Tallulah asked.

Looking numb, Josie shook her head. Her wintery gaze fell on
Luke, leaving him cold inside.

“He never told me,” she whispered.

“You’re the exception, then,” Tallulah said
blithely. “You see, I really haven’t been myself lately. I keep forgetting
this place is a Donovan family holding, not a Carlyle property. The last two
times I gave somebody Blue Moon by accident, Luke couldn’t clear either of them
out of here fast enough.”

Josie arched her brow. She swallowed hard. “There’ve
been others?”

“Only two, as I said.” Tallulah waved a bejeweled
hand. “My psychic advisor—she has her own hotline now. And a former
concierge who helped find my poor shih tzu, Crackers. He’s running a lodge in
Aspen. They’re both very happy. Happier than they would have been here, probably.”

“Probably.” Eyes narrowed, Josie nodded. Her voice
sounded preternaturally calm. “Blue Moon is a Donovan family holding, you
said? So Luke’s not the only one who has all that stuff? The condos, the yacht,
the Ferrari?”