Let's Pretend (Romantic Comedy, Contemporary, Second Chance, Sensual) (7 page)

“Hey, Belle. How about leaving some beans for the rest of us?” Alana broke into her reverie. She looked down to find a heaped helping on her plate.

Luc took the bowl from her and passed it to Alana, who sat to his right. “News travels fast.” He forked half of Belle’s beans onto his plate.

“You know how it is.” Tommy flashed a smarmy smirk. “Someone who knows someone, who knows someone...so, Belle, how come you didn’t tell us about your husband’s promotion?”

Belle waited for Julianne to finish dishing food onto her plate while she tried to make a swift recovery from her fluster at Tom’s question and think of a plausible response.

“I asked her to keep it between us until I had a chance to formally accept the position.” Luc’s smooth answer saved her from having to reply. “As it happened, I only found out a fortnight ago that I’d gotten the job.” He slid his arm along the back of her chair and absently massaged her nape, sending delicious sensations through the tight muscle.

Belle got the feeling the last part of Luc’s sentence was for her benefit.

“Well congratulations, Lucas.” Vicki raised her glass and indicated that the rest of them should too.

“Congrats!” rang out around the table.

When Belle met Tommy’s eyes, she saw undiluted malice shining from their depths.
 
“Yeah, congratulations, Lucas.” He emptied his glass and reached to top it back up. “Onwards and upwards, right?”

Evidently, Luc chose to ignore the underlying snipe to Tommy’s tone as he tipped his own glass before taking a sip of the white wine. “Thank you.”

“So what does this promotion mean, Luc?” Mia asked, reclaiming her chair next to Tom.

Yes, Luc. What does it mean?
Desperate to know the answer, Belle waited with as much nonchalance as she could dredge up while her heart took up a rapid tempo that echoed in her ears.

“It means he gets to sit around all day long, giving orders.” At Tommy’s words, delivered on a resentful note, Belle wanted to throw her arms in the air, yell—
yes
—and do a happy dance.

It was possible that Luc had a desk job!

“It means I get to help provide leadership to the department. Develop policies, procedures, and head up training. Oversee fire suppression activities, supervise personnel, and perform budgetary duties.” Luc forked up some food. “In essence, it’s a desk job with all the politics to go with it.”

Belle was dizzy with excitement. If Luc wasn’t going to be involved in dangerous situations, she no longer had to fear for his safety. And if she no longer had to fear for him, she didn’t have to take the final step to end things between them. She tried to hide her glee. “So you don’t go out with the crew to fight fires?”

Luc swallowed the food in his mouth. “Not unless it’s a serious incident.”

Belle’s stomach pitted out. It was as if he’d given her a pretty gift box, but once she’d torn off the paper, she’d discovered a booby prize inside. The injury Will had sustained had resulted from a “serious incident”.

She forced a smile. “I see.” Then shovelled a forkful of sawdust-tasting chicken into her mouth, grateful when her mother changed the subject to the latest talent to show their art collection at her small gallery.

With the exception of Tommy—who claimed to be meeting up with friends—they took coffee in the lounge. Wine and laughter had flavoured the dinner conversation, and the same merriment followed them into Gran’s plush lounge.

“Are you okay?” Luc asked as he pulled her onto the sofa beside him.

Noticing a few eyes on them, Belle forced a light, “Yep.”

Luc tipped her chin so she had to meet his gaze. Why did he have to look at her as if she were the only woman in the world?

His brows pulled together. “Sure?”

She stretched her lips across her teeth in what she hoped was a convincing smile as she nodded. “Um-hmm.”

He released her but didn’t seem persuaded. Perhaps the stiffness with which she held herself when he slipped his arm around her had something to do with it.

7

L
uc leaned back against the window seat, enjoying his position. It provided the perfect location for him to catch glimpses of one of his favourite places on Belle, as her top rode up—the sexy part of her lower back where it met the top of her butt. He could imagine kissing the two little dimples either side of her spine, and not having the freedom to do so was driving him crazy.

Tonight had been torment. He didn’t know which was more so—Belle ignoring his secret touches, or the permanent state of arousal he’d managed to get himself into with no foreseeable release. “Are you sure you don’t want me to help you with that?”

Belle tossed him a glance over her shoulder. Was it his imagination, or did she give him a quick but thorough onceover?

“I’m sure.” She turned her attention back to the task of making up the little cabin bed he had the privilege to sleep on. He was certain he heard her mutter, “You’ve done more than enough today.”

Luc smiled. He wasn’t alone in this ordeal, then. His mind went back to the little moan she’d let slip before she’d shot forward in her seat at the dinner table, and cleared her throat. Belle was not immune to him.

“Did you say something?” He tried to make his smile look innocent.

She avoided looking at him as she crossed the room to the dresser, reached inside, and pulled out some black silky number.

She was killing him.

 
“Why didn’t you tell me you were taking the exam for promotion?”

Ah, the reason she’d given him the cold shoulder ever since they’d walked into her bedroom.

“I didn’t think you cared,” was his honest reply. Then he qualified it with, “I’ve hardly had time to accept the position, much less jump on the phone to my estranged wife to give her the good news.”

She closed her eyes for a second, as if shutting out the sting of his words, then swiftly turned away.

“I’ll use the bathroom first.” Without waiting for his response, she disappeared into the adjoining pale peach room. And closed the door behind her with a final snap.

Luc’s gaze landed on the tiny bed with all the pent-up frustration he felt. How much effort would it take to send that thing crashing to the floor under him? Unfolding himself from the window seat, he crossed to the far end of the room where Belle had set it up. Clearly, she didn’t trust him anywhere near her bed. He’d have to walk half a mile to get to her if he got any ideas in the night.

Luc sat on the cabin bed.

It appeared more solid than it looked. He bounced a couple of times, expecting it to creak beneath his weight. When it didn’t he bounced a little harder.

Still nothing.

Dropping to his knees, he peered underneath, disappointed to find all the rivets and bolts were fixed tight. He narrowed his gaze further, then glanced around the room for something he could use as a tool.

He stuck his head back under the bed. What size were those nuts? He measured one between his fingers, trying to gauge the size. Ten millimetres? Maybe Annie had a spanner he could borrow.

“Have you lost something?”

Luc’s heart nearly flew out of his mouth at the sound of Belle’s voice behind him. Feeling like a five-year-old caught pilfering chocolate from the secret Christmas stash, he glanced over his shoulder, trying to appear cool and natural as if he had indeed been looking for something he’d misplaced. Although, faced with Belle’s intelligent gaze, he couldn’t think what that would be.

She stood just inside the room, her beautiful face scrubbed clean of makeup. Cheeks flushed pink. Hair pulled down from her ponytail cascaded in a silky, yet barely tamed arrangement around her shoulders. Her bare feet and fingers were all he could see of the rest of her body hidden beneath a thick white towelling robe that nearly touched the floor, the lapels drawn right up to her throat so tight he didn’t know how she managed to breathe.

And he still found her sexy. Luc had to fight a sudden reckless urge to kiss her until the ache in his heart dissipated.
 

He glanced away.

Like the pilfered Christmas chocolate around his mouth, the bed nut between his fingers would no doubt incriminate him. “Just wondering if this thing is going to collapse in the middle of the night.”
  

She headed for her bed. “I’m confident it’ll be fine. It isn’t very old and has hardly been used. Gran keeps them for when she’s putting up lots of the family.” She pulled back the covers, but didn’t make a move to take off her robe and get in. “The bathroom’s free.”
 

This was ridiculous. She was waiting for him to leave the room before she’d get into bed? Aggravation slammed into him. When did things get this bad?

“Look, Belle”—he got off his knees, pulled himself to his full six-foot-two height— “I have no intention of touching you without your invitation, so for heaven’s sake,
relax
.” He stomped into the bathroom, barely refraining from slamming the door. Did she think he’d turned into a Neanderthal in the last six months?

He spent long enough under the shower to give her time to fall asleep. When he exited the
en suite
, Luc found that Belle had dimmed the lights low enough for her to be able to drift off while allowing him to see his way around the bedroom. She faced away from him so he couldn’t tell whether she was asleep or still awake, though the slight uneven rhythm to her breathing made him suspect she was awake.

What he wouldn’t give to drop the towel from around his waist, slide between the sheets with Belle and pull her into his arms. He didn’t hold out much hope of sleeping, knowing she was in the same room and he couldn’t touch her.
 

He hit the light switch on his way to the pathetic excuse for a bed. Since he hadn’t gotten around to taking his flight bag out of his hired car, Luc unhitched the towel covering his nakedness, tossed it in the vicinity of the chair, dropped onto the cabin bed, and pulled the sheet to his waist.

A sound similar to a gulp resounded around the room. He raised his head and looked over at Belle. She hadn’t moved.

He slid his hands behind his head. The worst kind of torture, he’d come to discover, was to want someone but know you can’t have her.

It seemed like hours as he tossed and turned and did his damndest to break the bed.

“Will you stop thrashing around? You’re going to break that thing.”

That’s the idea
! He glared up at the pitch-black ceiling. So he was right—Belle wasn’t asleep.

“Luc? Are you awake?”

As if he could sleep with her in the same room, keeping his thoughts firmly on all the enjoyable things he could be doing instead of sleeping. He puffed out an annoyed breath. “No.”

She chuckled. “Me neither.”

A reluctant smile forced its way onto his lips. “Then you must be talking in your sleep.”

“Do you think Mia knows?”

“How could she? I haven’t mentioned our split to anyone. Have you?”

“I’ve been too busy.”

Too busy to care that she’d ended the best thing that had ever happened to him? The insight into Belle’s ability to move on without giving him a thought cut deeper wounds in his heart. Wounds he would never let her see. “Then stop worrying. No one could possibly know without us telling them.”

“I don’t know, Luc. She sounded like she was trying to drive home a message with her ‘I’ll
never
let him go’ speech.”