Читать книгу Modern Romance May 2016 Books 1-4 - Julia James, Andie Brock - Страница 25

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

LUKE KNEW THAT Abby was on her feet now. She expelled what sounded like an impatient breath, and he guessed she was wondering what the hell he meant.

But now, after what Felix had found out, Luke knew for sure that Harry Laurence had been as much of a bastard as he’d suspected, he couldn’t inflict his own problems on her, as well.

She was too loyal; she had too much integrity. As witnessed by the way she’d stayed with her ex-husband, long after she’d learned what manner of man he was.

However foolish Luke still considered that had been.

‘I don’t understand,’ she said brusquely. ‘Are you talking about Harry?’

‘Who else?’

Abby sucked in a breath. ‘But you know nothing about Harry,’ she said impatiently. ‘And I can tell you this, you’re nothing like him.’

‘You think?’

Luke had reached the bureau now, and he attempted to pull open the bottom drawer. But it was difficult to bend and open a two-handled drawer with only one hand. He swore his frustration as the crutch slipped away.

And knew he would have fallen if Abby hadn’t immediately seen his difficulties and rushed to help him. Her slim arms encircled his waist, and he felt the slight swell of her body close against the curve of his spine.

It was the baby, he thought, his jaw tightening with the knowledge of what he was about to deny himself. The urge to turn and hold her close against his taut body was almost irresistible, but he no longer had the right to do so.

‘You could have asked me to get whatever it is for you,’ Abby exclaimed somewhat breathlessly as he attempted to regain his balance. ‘Surely it can’t be so important that you’re willing to risk your health.’

‘I’m not risking my health.’ Luke was unable to hide his bitterness. ‘It was just a bit of poor judgement, that’s all. Something I’m quite familiar with, believe me.’

‘If you’re implying it was your poor judgement that caused the accident, you couldn’t be more wrong,’ protested Abby, her warm breath fanning the back of his neck. ‘Look, why don’t you sit down and let me get whatever you need?’

Luke allowed himself to rest against her for a few moments longer, revelling in the heat of her nearness, inhaling the fragrant scent of her skin.

But his response quickly became far too sexual, and he couldn’t afford to indulge in that kind of madness again. Not if he wanted to give her the chance to start a new life without any restrictions at all.

Nevertheless, Abby didn’t seem in any hurry to let him go. Indeed, her hands spread caressingly against his stomach and he knew that, any second, she was going to discover he wasn’t as controlled as he’d like to pretend.

However, when he would have drawn away, she rested her forehead against his back, and whispered softly, ‘Can’t we talk about this? You can’t possibly imagine I want our relationship to end, just because you don’t think you’re the handsome stud you used to be.’

Luke groaned. ‘I was never a handsome stud,’ he muttered cynically. ‘But I won’t be a burden on you, Abby. I know now how you must have suffered with Laurence, and you deserve a better chance at life.’

Abby went still, and, after making sure he was unlikely to fall, she moved round him so she could see his face. ‘You know now?’ she echoed. ‘How do you know? About Harry, I mean?’ She looked doubtful for a moment.

Luke leaned heavily on his crutch. This was the difficult part and he knew it.

‘Harry’s in prison,’ he told her unwillingly. ‘Did you know?’

‘In prison?’ Abby stared at him incredulously. ‘No. I didn’t know that. How could I?’

She paused, evidently digesting what he’d said. Then, ‘But how do you know?’ she asked, before a look of dismay crossed her face as the answer came to her. ‘You’ve had him investigated, haven’t you? You didn’t take my word, so you decided to check my story out for yourself.’

Luke blew out a breath. ‘That’s not entirely true.’ He’d known this might happen; that was one of the reasons why he’d put off seeing her for so long.

‘Before the accident,’ he went on. ‘Before I realised that I—’ He almost said ‘that I loved you’, but he managed to bite the words back. ‘Well, just accept that it was before the accident, I asked Felix to find out what Laurence was doing these days. I had no idea that the accident would prevent me from telling you what I’d done.’

Abby stepped back from him. ‘You asked Felix?’ She shook her head. ‘No. He would have told me.’

‘Felix wouldn’t tell you anything without my permission,’ said Luke, expelling a weary breath. ‘He knew you’d think I’d been checking up on you.’

‘You had.’

‘Not in the way you mean,’ declared Luke roughly. ‘If you must know, I’d already decided that there had to be more to your relationship with Laurence than I’d originally thought,’ he said tiredly, wishing he could sit down. ‘I actually wanted to kill him. Which would have given me a great deal of pleasure, but I didn’t get the chance.’

‘And you just accidentally discovered that Harry was in prison,’ she said sceptically. ‘How convenient was that.’

‘It wasn’t convenient at all actually.’ Luke sighed. ‘Felix came to see me while I was in the hospital. I’d been depressed for days, and he foolishly thought that knowing your ex-husband was in prison might give me some encouragement to get well.’

Abby frowned. ‘And he thought this, why?’

‘Don’t be naïve.’ Luke exhaled noisily. ‘Felix isn’t a fool. He knew—knows—how I feel about you.’

Abby hesitated, and he could tell his words had registered with her, however reckless they had been. ‘Well, I still don’t understand. How did he find out about Harry?’

Luke swayed a little, but he managed to stay on his feet as he said, ‘Felix knew someone who worked in the City, and, when he mentioned Laurence’s name, this guy said Harry had been convicted of abusing his wife.’

‘Abusing his wife?’ Abby was taken aback. ‘But I’ve never—’

‘I got that.’ Luke was bitter now. ‘I couldn’t understand why.’

He shook his head. That wasn’t something he wanted to get into right now. ‘But apparently, he’d married again a couple of years ago.’

‘And when were you going to tell me this?’

‘I wasn’t,’ he said. ‘I knew what you’d think. But circumstances alter cases.’

Luke blew out a breath, abandoning any hope of opening the chest of drawers for the present. He dragged himself to the bed and lowered himself onto the mattress.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said heavily. ‘You’ll have to give me a minute. I guess my legs are not as strong as I thought.’

Immediately, Abby’s expression changed, her indignation giving way to anxiety. Abandoning her position, she came to join him on the bed, sitting down beside him and gazing at him with unconcealed concern.

‘I’m the one who should be sorry,’ she murmured, hesitating only a moment before rubbing his back with a gentle hand. ‘I should have realised you’re still recovering from surgery. We can continue this conversation when you’re feeling better—’

‘No!’

Luke knew he had to get this over with now, before he gave into the desire to be with her. The feel of her hand massaging his back was far too appealing. But he must remember why he’d brought her here.

Yet he could feel the heat of her hand through his tee shirt, feel her thigh warm against his hip. His skin prickled with the knowledge that this might be the last time they’d be alone together like this. But whatever happened, he had to keep his head.

Yet it was well-nigh impossible.

‘Abby,’ he said hoarsely, desperate to say what needed to be said before he lost the will to do so.

However, although she might feel like punishing him for his arrogance, Abby’s hand moved up to his shoulder, and from there to the nape of his neck.

The feel of her cool fingers against his skin was a torment. He could feel his pulse pounding, the blood searing hotly through his veins. He felt a constriction in his chest that expanded as he gazed at her; at the delicate curve of her cheekbones, at the soft vulnerability of her mouth.

‘I would never hurt you,’ he grated. It was not what he’d planned to say and his hands balled into fists on his thighs. ‘You’ve got to believe that.’

‘I do believe it.’ Her fingers brushed the growth of stubble on his jawline. ‘But you didn’t trust me. You never did.’

Luke forced himself to flinch away from that caressing touch. He was half afraid that if she touched his scars, he’d never find the strength to let her go.

His breath hitched, and then, although it was much too late to do so, he tried to explain.

‘I would have told you about Harry,’ he said unsteadily. ‘But I suppose what bugged me was the fact that you’d stayed with a man like him, even knowing how he was treating you. Why in God’s name didn’t you leave him?’

Abby sighed. ‘I had my reasons—’

Luke stiffened. ‘You loved him?’

‘I don’t think I ever loved him,’ she admitted ruefully. ‘But my mother liked him and I suppose I trusted her judgement.’

‘And later?’

Abby’s fingers curled over his scalp, finding the roughened patch of shaved skin where they’d drilled into his skull. Her breathing quickened, as if at the renewed realisation that he could have died, and Luke felt his nerves tighten in response.

She swallowed convulsively, but, like him, she obviously felt compelled to go on.

‘I suppose my mother thought he would look after me. He had a good job, a nice apartment. She knew nothing about the way he treated me. Harry was careful not to do anything that might arouse her suspicions.’

Luke captured her tormenting fingers in his and brought her hand down to rest on his knees. ‘And when he started abusing you?’ he asked huskily.

‘Oh...’ Abby’s voice broke, and when she continued, her tone was much lower. ‘So you believe me?’

‘I’d suspected it for some time,’ said Luke, massaging her knuckles with unsteady fingers. ‘Even that night in the wine bar, I noticed you had bruises on your neck. What I still don’t understand is why you didn’t leave him.’

‘But you never asked why, did you?’ she murmured unevenly.

‘Perhaps I didn’t want to know the answer,’ said Luke honestly. He groaned. ‘Every time I thought of you two together... God!’

‘My mother became terminally ill about two years after Harry and I got married,’ Abby broke in quickly. ‘I had already realised that the marriage wasn’t going to work, but...’

She broke off and pressed her lips together before going on, ‘But my mother needed constant nursing care, and my salary wasn’t going to pay for that or for a decent nursing home when she needed one. Harry told my mother that she didn’t have to worry. He’d take care of all of it.’

‘So he paid?’

Abby nodded.

Luke stared at her. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘When?’ Abby withdrew her hand from his, twisting her fingers together in her lap. ‘That first day you came to the café, when you accused me of cheating on my husband? Or later, when, although you were making love to me, you were making it plain that you’d never trust a woman like me?’

Luke scowled. ‘What about the night you arranged to meet me at the wine bar? Couldn’t you have told me then?’

‘Oh, right.’ Abby gave a little cry and pushed herself up from the bed, raking trembling hands through her hair. ‘How would I have phrased that, I wonder?’

She glanced back at him over her shoulder, her expression pained.

‘Let me see, how about—by the way, Luke, I should have told you, I’m married. My husband is abusing me, but he’s only agreed to go on paying for my mother’s palliative care if I don’t tell anyone about it.’ Her lips twisted. ‘Yeah, I can quite see how that would have worked.’

Luke couldn’t listen to any more. He caught her wrist and pulled her down onto the bed again. Then, before he could stop himself, he hooked his hand behind her head and brought her mouth to his.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said against her lips. ‘I’m sorry. I’ve been such a fool. Will you ever forgive me?’

He heard her catch her breath, but she didn’t draw back. And what began as an attempt to make amends for his past sins quickly became a hungry assault on his senses. It might have been weeks since he’d held her in his arms, but she felt so right there, and he didn’t want to let her go.

Ignoring the pain in his arm, he bore her back against the tumbled sheets and covered her with his body. The soft sweat pants he was wearing did nothing to disguise the erection pushing against the cotton, an erection that fitted so perfectly into the yielding juncture of her thighs.

One of her hands slid down between them, finding the throbbing pulse of his arousal before slipping inside his pants.

Her fingers closed around him and Luke’s senses spun.

He wanted her. Dear God, he wanted to be with her. Not just for now, but always. Did he have the right to feel this way? When he might be an invalid for the rest of his life?

No!

He was soon aware that he was in danger of losing what little self-respect he had left. When he pulled away, she was forced to release him, and for a moment he could only lie on his back beside her, striving for control.

When his breathing eventually steadied, he pushed himself up into a sitting position again. And from there, he used the crutch to haul himself to his feet and slowly make his way back to the chest of drawers.

This time he managed to get the drawer open, and he pulled out the sheaf of documents safe inside a green plastic file.

Then he turned and made his way back; but not to the bed. To his earlier position on the window seat.