Читать книгу Her Tycoon Lover - Lee Wilkinson - Страница 11

A LAST flicker of lightning lit the sky. Far across the lake thunder growled in a halfhearted way. Luke’s thoughts marched on. Once he’d gone to bed with Katrin, he’d be leaving here. Flying to New York, then back home to San Francisco. He’d forget her.

Easy.

Was the five minutes up? He hoped so. It was cold sitting here, his shirt clinging to his back. Luke got to his feet and walked up the hill. Katrin was sitting bolt upright in the front seat, a pale yellow sweater swathing her body. Luke got in the car.

The sudden blast of heat made him shiver involuntarily. In quick distress, she said, “You’re cold. Here, I’ve got an extra sweater.”

“I’m fine,” he said roughly. “Quit feeling sorry for me.”

“I wasn’t aware that I was.”

“I don’t need mothering!”

The words had come from nowhere, and instantly Luke wished them unsaid. Katrin said in an unfriendly voice, “If I felt the slightest bit motherly toward you, I wouldn’t be having X-rated dreams.”

“So tell me about them,” he said.

“Are you kidding? Luke, take me home. Then you should go back to the resort and have a hot shower.”

“I could have one at your place.”

“Look, I know I—”

“Katrin,” he said softly, “come here.”

“No! We can’t—” Then she gave a strangled yelp, for Luke had leaned over and, with exquisite gentleness, pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and yielding, warmer than his. His head began to swim.

She shifted in her seat, nibbling very gently at his lower lip, her hands drifting down his throat to his shoulders. In every nerve in his body he was aware of these small movements, of her quickened breathing and the pliancy of her body as she, in turn, leaned toward him. Control, Luke thought. Control. Technique, not emotion. And deepened his kiss, easing closer to her. Then he let one hand move from her shoulder to the swell of her breast, tracing its fullness, feeling the shock ripple through her slender frame. He cupped her breast in his hand, his groin hardening imperiously.

“Katrin,” he whispered, “I want you so much.”

She was trembling very lightly. “I want you, too,” she whispered. “But I don’t do this, Luke…I never have affairs with the guests. It’s nothing to do with the resort, it’s one of my own rules.”

“You think I don’t know that?” Trying to banish the strain from her face, he added, “Those glasses you insist on wearing, and your hair pulled back tight as a halyard in a hurricane…they’re not exactly a come-on.”

She smiled weakly. “Self-defense.”

“Very effective,” he replied; and knew now was the time to be as truthful to her as she’d been with him. Feeling as though he were tossing dice with no idea how they’d fall, Luke said, “I should make something clear to you—I’m not into any kind of commitment. If we make love tonight, that would be that. I fly to New York the day after tomorrow, and I won’t be back.”

She said in a strange voice, “That’s okay…I wouldn’t want commitment. It’s not a word in my vocabulary, either.”

“Why not?” he flashed.

She stared down at the fingers, intertwined in her lap. “To be blunt, Luke, if we go to bed together it’ll have nothing to do with making love. I want you out of my system—I’m sorry if that sounds crude, but that’s the way it is. For some reason you get past every one of my defenses. I can’t explain that, and I’m not going to try. But I need to get on with my life…and I don’t need a man in it. It’s time I left Askja. Past time, and for reasons that are nothing to do with you. So if you have conditions, so do I—no confidences and no questions. And no—to use your word—commitment.”

Luke sat back in his seat. He didn’t like having his own words thrown back at him. Didn’t like it all. Because he wasn’t used to it? Was it that simple?

A couple of women in the past had taken his usual spiel about commitment as a challenge, figuring they could change his mind. Katrin, obviously, wouldn’t be like that. Katrin didn’t want commitment any more than he did.

Nevertheless, didn’t her stance suit his purposes admirably? He could make love with her and leave.

She’d be out of his system, too.

Precisely what he wanted.

He said flatly, “I accept.” Quickly he put the car in gear, turned around in the clearing and drove up the hill toward the woods.

The road needed all his attention because the heavy rain had turned some sections to a glutinous mud, and dug deep channels into the ditches. Keeping his eyes straight ahead, Luke said, “At least tell me how old you are.”

“Twenty-seven. And you?”

“Six years older. Were you born here?”

“I said no questions, Luke.”

“Secrets in your past?” he said lazily.

“Of course not!”

All his senses on high alert, he heard the tension in her voice, noticed the tightening of her hands in her lap, her sudden wariness. So she did have secrets. He said without inflection, “I have secrets, too. Don’t we all?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

End of that conversation, thought Luke, and found he was intensely curious to know what secrets in Katrin’s past would prevent her from even telling him where she was born. None of your business, he told himself; then found himself wondering if it could have anything to do with that elusive sense of recognition he’d had for a while, as though somewhere he’d seen her before. He said out loud, “Good, there’s the main road.”

Katrin said nothing. He flicked a glance at her. She was staring out the window at the wet trees and gleaming pavement, just as though he didn’t exist. He felt a quiver of pure rage, and forced it down. What was he complaining about? Once again he’d found a woman who was willing to warm his bed—or in this case, her bed—on his terms. Nothing wrong with that, and everything right.

He drove on, in a silence that seemed to thicken with every minute. After he passed the lane to the resort, he had to navigate all the turns and twists of the road to the village. The church loomed out of the dusk, followed by a weathered clapboard house and then a small bungalow painted pale pink with white trim. Luke turned in the driveway and parked level with the back door.

“Let’s go in,” he said, striving to sound matter-of-fact. “If you’ve got a drier, maybe I could put my jeans and shirt in it for a few minutes.”

“Luke, I can’t do this,” Katrin said in a strangled voice.

“It’s perfectly normal to be nervous, Katrin. I’ll use protection, and I’ll be as good to you as I can be, I promise you that.”

“Protection?” she snapped, glaring at him. “You mean you walk around with it all the time?”

He said, an ugly note in his voice, “I’ve already told you I’m not in the habit of picking up women at conferences…and I have a clean bill of health. But the last thing I ever want to do is start an unwanted child. There are enough of those already in the world.”

“Were you one?” she said.

“Lay off!”

“I hit a nerve there, didn’t I?” She gazed at him thoughtfully. “You mean you never want to have children?”

“You said no questions and no confidences. That works both ways.”

“Okay, okay. But whether or not we’ve got protection is beside the point.” She looked right at him. “I’ve changed my mind. I’m sorry, but I can’t go to bed with you—no matter what kind of dreams I’ve been having.”

A cold lump had settled in the pit of Luke’s stomach. He said nastily, “Do you do this often—lead a guy on, then say no at the last minute?”

“No! I never do!”

“You could have fooled me.”

“Are you one of those men who think a woman isn’t allowed to say no?”

“Katrin, I know you want me and you know I want you. So what’s the big deal if we go to bed together? We’re not talking marriage and three kids.”

“No,” she said, her voice unreadable, “we’re talking a one-night stand.”

“That’s right. Which suits both of us just fine.”

“Down on the wharf, and then in the car, I thought it would suit me. So that I’d get you out of my system, isn’t that what I said? But now I’ve realized the absolute last thing I need is a one-night stand. With you or anyone else. I’ve never gone to bed with anyone casually, as if sex were in the same league as a game of Frisbee or an afternoon sail on the lake. And I’m not going to start now.”

Luke looked over at her. Her lower lip was set mutinously, her wet ponytail was trailing down her neck, and her bulky sweater almost completely hid the fact that she had breasts. She was as different from his usual women as a woman could be, he thought with uncomfortable honesty. No makeup, no fancy hairdo, no designer clothes. No sophistication. Quite possibly, very little experience. Because if there was one thing he’d stake his fortune on, it was that Katrin Sigurdson was speaking the truth.

She didn’t deal in fancy footwork. In coyness or manipulation. Just the truth, no matter whether he wanted to hear it or not. Keeping her promise that she wouldn’t lie to him again.

He said harshly, “I’m not sure casual is the right word for what happens when we kiss each other. For me, it’s like the combination of an earthquake and a volcanic eruption…you wouldn’t exactly call those casual.” Then he gave an exasperated sigh. “I had no intention of saying that—the truth must be catching. Like the flu.”

She said with suppressed violence, “I’ve never in my life kissed anyone the way I kissed you.”

Luke looked at her in silence, emotion clogging his throat. Once again, Katrin was telling the truth. And once again, just by being herself, she’d knocked him sideways. Warning bells rang in his brain. If he was half as smart as he thought he was, he’d push her out of the car and drive hell-bent for leather in the opposite direction.

Any other woman he’d had an affair with had treated bed as just another playground. Like a game of tennis with no clothes on. But Katrin wasn’t like that.

“Katrin,” he said with sudden intensity, “why don’t we go for it? Is life about running away from risk, taking the safe route time and again until finally you’re buried under the ground and there aren’t any more risks to take? Is that all there is to it?”

She said bitterly, “I took a big risk once, with a slick businessman like you. It backfired and I paid for my mistake. Paid and paid and paid. The answer’s no, Luke. No.”

“Who was he?”

“That’s irrelevant.”

Luke made one more try. “Listen, I’m going back to San Francisco—”

“Where?”

The color had drained from her cheeks; she looked suddenly older. Older, and horribly frightened. “What’s the matter?” he demanded.

“You said you lived in New York!”

“I said I was flying to New York from here—I’ve got a couple of meetings there early in the week. But once they’re over, I’ll be heading home. Which is San Francisco. What’s the big deal about that?”

Her struggle for control was painful to watch. Her knuckles bone-white with strain, she said tonelessly, “Luke, I’m exhausted, I’ve got to go in. I’m sorry if you thought I was leading you on, truly I wasn’t. What happened on the wharf was more than I could have imagined…it did away with all my common sense and my rules. But I’ve had time to think now, and I know I’d regret it if we went to bed together. I have rules for a very good reason, and they’ve always stood me in good stead.”

He wanted to know that reason, and knew better than to ask. His gaze trained on her face, he said softly, “If I kissed you again, you’d change your mind.”

Her jaw tensed. “Please don’t!”

“You don’t have to worry—I’ve never once forced myself on a woman, and I’m not going to start with you.”

“Anyway,” she said with a flash of spirit, “can you imagine how I’d feel tomorrow morning when I’d have to take your order for breakfast? Cream and sugar with your coffee, sir? No way!” She leaned down and picked up her bag from the floor of the car. “Thank you for the drive,” she added in a muffled voice. “Good night.”

He could have stopped her. Very easily. Luke sat still, watching as she ran for the side door of the little bungalow, took a key out of her pocket and turned it in the lock. Then she slipped inside the house. A moment later he saw the dim glow of light through the chinks in the blinds.

He put the car in reverse and backed onto the road. Which did he need more, a hot shower because every garment he had on was wet, chilling him to the bone? Or a cold shower, to take his mind off sex? Sex with Katrin.

That’s all it would have been, he thought furiously. Sex. Nothing less and nothing more.

How long since a woman had turned him down?

Too long, obviously.

The sun was setting behind the last of the storm clouds in a stunning display of orange, magenta and purple. He scowled at it, wishing he could fly home tomorrow. Or tonight. One thing was certain. He didn’t care if he ever saw Katrin Sigurdson again.

Because he was a stubborn man who rarely allowed himself to acknowledge a setback, Luke went to breakfast early the next morning. The morning paper was folded under his arm. He was the first one at his table. He started reading the front page, and when an all-too-familiar voice said, “Coffee, sir?” he didn’t even look up.

“Black, please,” he said, and ostentatiously rustled the pages.

His coffee was poured without a drop being spilled. He added, “A large orange juice, waffles with strawberries and an order of bacon, no toast. Thanks.”

“You’re welcome,” Katrin said in a voice that implied the opposite.

He forced himself to continue reading the latest story of political patronage, not even looking up when she’d left the table. Rupert arrived, then John, and slowly Luke relaxed. When she brought his waffles, he saw in one glance that she looked as different from the passionate woman on the wharf as she could; her ugly glasses were firmly in place and her hair scraped back ruthlessly. Good, thought Luke. He didn’t want any reminders of those shattering kisses in the rain.

He’d dreamed about her last night. Explicitly and at considerable length.

The sooner he left here, the better.

The day dragged on. Luke had both contributed to and gained from the conference; but now he couldn’t wait for it to be over. Dinner was a full-fledged banquet and seemed to last forever. Guy drank far too much and in a distant way Luke was amused to see that the whole table was united in making it clear that Guy had better behave himself. As for Katrin, she was efficient and polite and a thousand miles away.

Which is where he’d be tomorrow.

The meal wound down, Luke was called on to add to the impromptu speeches, and people began drifting toward the bar. Guy, however, was taking his time. As though he were waiting for everyone else to leave, Luke thought uneasily, and moved over to have one last chat with the Japanese delegation. Then he went back to the table and said with a friendliness he was far from feeling, “Come on, Guy, I’ll buy you a drink.”

“I could tell you something,” Guy mumbled.

“Oh?” Luke said casually. “What’s that?”

Guy shot him a crafty look. “I’m going to tell her first,” he said, swaying on his feet.

“Her?”

“Our esh-esteemed waitress.”

“What about her?”

“Nope. Her first.”

Under cover of the hum of conversation and laughter, Luke said very quietly, “You leave Katrin alone, Guy. Remember what I said about Amco Steel?”

“Thish-this is for her own good,” Guy said, blinking owlishly.

“Then tell me about it.”

“Tomorrow. At breakfast.” Guy chuckled. “You’ll have to wait, Luke.”

“Fine,” Luke said, as though it were of no interest to him whatsoever. “Let’s go to the bar, that’s where the action is right now.”

For well over an hour, Luke wandered from group to group in the bar, never staying long, always trying to keep Guy in sight. But Andreas and Niko from Greece wanted to show him a fax they’d just received and when Luke looked up, Guy had vanished. He said, “Andreas, that’s good news. I think we should have a talk about this once I get back to San Francisco, can I call you? And now will you excuse me, I want to talk to Guy Wharton for a moment.”

When he questioned one of the waiters, the young man said he’d seen Guy heading for the side door of the resort. As Luke hurried along the corridor, he was stopped by an elderly statesman from Japan, who with impeccable courtesy wished him a protracted goodbye. Holding his impatience rigidly in check, Luke replied with equal good manners. Then, almost running, he headed outdoors.

The side door opened onto a walkway that split into two, one to the guest parking lot, the other to the staff lot. Trusting his intuition, Luke took the path to the staff area. To muffle his steps he kept on the grass, simultaneously wondering if he was overreacting. Was he really going to find Guy and Katrin together? He did know one thing: he didn’t trust Guy, sober or drunk. Especially not drunk.

Then he stopped in his tracks as he heard voices, Guy’s slurred, Katrin’s quiet, but edged with panic. So they were together. Although not, by the sound of it, from Katrin’s choice.

He was going to do his level best to protect her from whatever threat Guy posed.

But first he hoped to find out exactly what that threat was.