Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (12 page)

Claudia shrugged. ‘All women want the fairy tale, Luke. The dress, the cake, the bridesmaids. Where’s the romance in a register office?’

Luke snorted. Not Philippa. Her lack of interest in a big event had puzzled him at the time—most women he knew wanted the fancy party, the whole shebang. But not Philippa. Of course, it had become evident only two years later why
she hadn’t been bothered.

The bitter memories rose to the surface again and twisted a knife in his gut. ‘Dear little Claude,’ he said, ‘still on board the
Love Boat,
I see.’

Claudia froze as his patronising words slid down her back like cold slime. She’d thought he’d finally seen her as a woman tonight—not some adoring little lapdog that followed him around and hero-worshipped him. Not
some silly romantic girl with her head in the clouds.

She stepped out of his arms and glared at him. ‘I think I’m done with dancing.’

Luke glared back. ‘Me too.’

THIRTEEN

An hour
later Claudia was still royally pissed off.

Lying on her bed in the dark, her red velvet dress twisted around her, she stewed away like some sappy freaking Cinderella who hadn’t got the prince after the clock had struck twelve.

Occasional flashes of lightning from the storm brewing outside slanted into the room in strobe-like bursts, illuminating her
misery.

God, maybe she was as pathetic as Luke’s words had suggested.

Why weren’t life
and love
as simple as
The Love Boat
?

Why, more importantly, hadn’t she just kept her big mouth shut? Yes, she’d spoken some home truths, things he’d needed to hear, but who’d died and left her in charge of things Luke should know?

And what on earth had possessed her to spout on about where
his marriage had gone wrong when she knew hardly anything about it? In fact, until tonight, all she’d known was the name of his ex and that they’d worked together at the same firm.

She’d seen a photo, of course—a tall, gorgeous, curvy brunette. Worldly and sophisticated. The
exac
t opposite of her.

But that was it.

And she’d told Luke it was because their wedding hadn’t been romantic
enough. She, who had been married exactly zero times, was dishing out marital advice!

Argh!

But, man, he’d been especially...infuriating/sexy/irritating tonight. Coming over all
do you think you should be wearing that?
and treating her as if she were some recalcitrant teenager who needed her virtue protected.

She laughed suddenly at the absurdity of it. Her virtue had been lost
some time ago. Ironically on a cruise she and Avery had taken together when they’d been nineteen.

She knew he liked her in the dress. His eyes had practically bugged out of his head, for crying out loud. She knew he’d been aware of the delicious friction between them as they’d danced. So why didn’t the jackass just accept it for what it was and let it go?

Smile, dance, flirt a little.

Just because there was an attraction there didn’t mean it had to be acted on. They were both adults, for crying out loud—not some hormone-riddled teenagers. Surely they could merely enjoy the buzz?

The fact they were both aware of it, the fact that it was taboo, ramped up the buzz even further. It felt like some delicious, unspoken secret between them. Made it sexier, somehow. Made her
insides quiver and her outsides hyperaware of the way velvet felt against her skin—soft but abrasive at the same time. How it rubbed at her nipples, tickled her belly, smoothed over her hips.

Things shifted inside her and Claudia squeezed her thighs together to suppress the sudden tingle that had started between her legs. She squirmed against the bed to relieve it.

It didn’t help.

If anything it reminded her how damn long it had been since anyone had been between her legs and she wished she were someone who could just go out and find anyone to scratch an itch. If she were, she’d march down to that ballroom right now and drag Raoul back to her room.

And he’d come willingly.

But she couldn’t lie down with Raoul while Luke was on her mind. It wouldn’t be right.
And probably not very conducive to a satisfying sexual experience.

But, God help her, if she didn’t have a satisfying sexual experience soon she was going to have to invest some serious cash in a latex boyfriend—the best one on the market.

The phone rang and she groped for it in the semi-dark, snatching it up, pleased to be relieved from having to think about the depressing state of
her sex life.

Her
non-existent
sex life.

‘Avery, if this is you I hope Jonah is there to protect you because I swear to God I’m going to throttle you. The red dress? Bad idea.’

‘It’s not Avery.’

Claudia shut her eyes as the deep tones, made even sexier by the touch of English class, undulated directly into her ear.

Damn.

‘The red dress wasn’t a bad idea.’

She
opened her eyes. ‘Luke...don’t...’

‘You looked hot in the red dress.’

Claudia’s belly flopped over inside her. ‘Luke.’

There was silence for a few moments. ‘I’m sorry I was a giant arse,’ he said.

‘No,’ Claudia sighed. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gone on about stuff that was none of my business.’

More silence until Claudia began to wonder if he hadn’t hung up or nodded
off.

‘There’s a
Love Boat
marathon on cable.’

Claudia rolled her eyes. ‘You’re just screwing with me now, right?’

He chuckled and goose bumps marched down the side of her neck and the length of her arm. ‘Hand on heart, pinky swear, I’m not. Turn on your TV.’

Claudia reached for the remote, which sat beside the phone. ‘Which channel?’ she asked as she pushed the power button.

‘Two six three.’

Claudia scrolled through until she found the channel and there, before her eyes, was Julie with her clipboard. The electronic guide told her they were running back-to-back episodes until six in the morning.

‘I think I’ve died and gone to heaven,’ she murmured.

Luke laughed. ‘Tell you what, I have a bottle of wine. How about I come to yours and we watch it together?’

‘You hate
The Love Boat
.’

‘Consider it my penance.’

‘Lying on a pillow-top mattress in a five-star hotel, drinking wine and watching television is penance?’

‘I know, right?’ he said and Claudia could hear the laughter in his voice. ‘I don’t know how I’ll bear it.’

Lost in the sheer sexiness of his voice all low and smiley in her ear, Claudia didn’t say anything for a few
moments.

‘Oh, come on,’ he cajoled. ‘For old times’ sake?’

Claudia knew that could be dangerous. Wine and nostalgia.
Not a good mix.
But if he was willing to try and put the strange dance-floor incident behind them and get back to where they had been—lifelong friends—then she could at least meet him halfway.

‘Okay, a couple of episodes but I’m coming to yours.’ At least that way
she was in control of the situation. She said how long she stayed and what time she left. And she could leave if things got weird again.

Or if her libido demanded she throw caution to the wind and jump Luke’s bones.

* * *

‘You had to wear the dress?’ Luke said as he opened the door to her five minutes later.
Was she trying to kill him?

‘You’re still in your clothes,’ she pointed
out.

‘Yes.’ But he didn’t look like
that
in his clothes. ‘I thought you’d be more...casual.’

She shrugged. ‘I let out my hair. What did
you
do?’

‘I...shaved,’ he said.

Claudia snorted.
Of course he had.
God forbid his whiskers should ever poke through his skin. ‘Well, it was the dress or my pyjamas.’

Luke stepped aside so she could enter. ‘Pyjamas would have been fine,’
he said as he watched her velvet-swathed derrière sway enticingly back and forth.

‘The dress covers more,’ she said.

Luke’s eyes stayed glued to her shrink-wrapped butt—technically the dress might have covered more. It did, after all, fall to her ankles, but it left
nothing
to the imagination.

Dear God, in the name of all that is holy, let her be wearing underwear.

‘Pull up
some mattress,’ he said. ‘They’ve just started a new episode. It’s one of the Christmas ones. I’ll pour you some wine.’

Claudia should have hesitated about lying on his bed, especially with what had happened earlier but, as he said, it was just like old times. Him, her, some ham and pineapple pizza and
The Love Boat
.

‘Is there a Hawaiian pizza on the room-service menu?’ she asked as
she kicked off her shoes and took the unrumpled side of the bed.

Luke laughed. ‘Nope. Already looked.’

‘It’s okay,’ she said, her eyes drawn to the flickering television screen, which had been muted. ‘I’m too full anyway.’

Luke approached with the glasses of wine. ‘Cheers,’ he said as he handed one over and they clinked them together.

‘Are we supposed to be lip-reading?’ Claudia
asked as Luke pushed the remote and TV guide aside and got comfortable on his side of the bed.

‘I thought we could do that thing you see on comedy shows sometimes, where we make up the dialogue as it goes along.’

‘Ha. Funny guy,’ she said, reaching for the remote that was stranded in what she supposed was the no-go zone between them and unmuted it.

He chuckled as the volume returned.
‘You’ve seen these episodes enough to know them word for word, surely?’

‘Shh,’ Claudia said, ignoring his quip. ‘I’m trying to listen.’

And after that they didn’t really speak much. They passed the odd comment about how dated it seemed and about some of the more lurid seventies and eighties fashion.

Claudia yawned as the credits rolled on the second episode. She’d snuggled down
amongst the pillows more and was lying on her side, her head propped on her open palm, her elbow bent. ‘I should go,’ she murmured.

She was feeling kind of mellow though after two glasses of wine. The lightning had ceded to rain and it beat steadily against the windows lending a cosiness to Luke’s easy companionship. It was nice and familiar and Claudia was beginning to think she’d imagined
the tension earlier.

This was how she remembered her relationship with Luke—nice and easy. Uncomplicated. Maybe this was all they had? All they were destined to have?

Maybe they were at their best when they were stuck in this
Love Boat
time warp?

‘I really should go,’ she said again.

But then the opening song finished again and the scene opened with Julie and Gopher chatting.
‘Oh, I always wanted them to get together.’ She sighed. ‘Do you remember?’

‘Yeah, I remember,’ he said.

‘They took their time about it,’ she muttered, her gaze firmly fixed on the television.

Luke chuckled and she dragged her eyes off the screen. ‘What?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

Claudia shot him a wry smile. ‘You hate it, don’t you?’

Luke shook his head, his gaze roaming
her face. ‘I love watching you watch it.’

The comment should have been sweet. Uncomplicated. But his gaze brushed her mouth and suddenly the nice and easy evaporated.

Maybe this wasn’t all they were destined to have...

‘Pleased I amuse you,’ she said, deciding to just ignore him. She laid her head on the pillow and snuggled in letting
The Love Boat
take her away to a far less complicated
world.

Where a woman with a clipboard
could
get her man.

* * *

When she woke several hours later the room was darker, quieter. No television to spread a flickering light or fill the room with noise. Only the digital clock numbers cast a pall on the situation.

And the situation was not good. She’d fallen asleep. So had he.

They
really
needed to stop doing this.

She
was still on her side but had wriggled right down and her dress had ridden up a little and tangled around her knees. One hand was tucked under her cheek, the other hand was lying palm down on Luke’s chest.

He had also shuffled down, lying supine with his head rolled in her direction, both his hands lying loosely beside him. His hair was too short to be rumpled but that wasn’t where she was
focused. The red glow from the clock drew her attention to his mouth. It illuminated his lips, slack in slumber, and showcased them for what they were—nicely full, perfectly delineated.

Just like the warm muscles she could feel beneath her hand.

Her fingers itched to touch his ruthlessly smooth face. To move along his jaw as if she were reading braille, carefully seeking out any patch
that he might have missed with his razor. Even if it was just a single solitary scrape against the pads of her fingers.

His chest rose and fell evenly beneath her palm and she could feel the thud of his heart—sure and regular. The same could not be said for her own. Her pulse tripped madly, knowing this...voyeurism was wrong. Knowing even thinking about touching him was wrong.

Her breath
turned ragged at the mere thought of crossing that line. But...

He’d done it to her, hadn’t he? Watched her while she’d slept?

Watched.
An angel had suddenly appeared on her shoulder.
He didn’t touch
.

But you were naked.
A devil sat on her other shoulder whispering tempting truths.

And it was true. At least Luke was fully clothed.

That doesn’t make it okay
, the angel insisted.

Go ahead, it’s fine,
the devil urged.

Claudia had never been more tempted in her life. It was just a tiny touch to his face, after all. Light as a feather. He was sound asleep. He probably wouldn’t even feel it.

And then with no conscious control, her hand was moving anyway. Slowly, tentatively, as if he might wake any second. Her fingers made landfall at hard jaw, the pads practically
sliding down the slope of his throat his face was that smooth.

She paused, tensed, waited. Held her breath.

Her heart thundered.

Nothing happened. He didn’t move. He didn’t shift in his sleep. He didn’t wake and demand to know what the hell she was doing.

Claudia eked out a ragged breath that sounded freaking cyclonic in the heavy silence of the room. Then, when she was sure
he was staying asleep she trailed her finger from the angle of his jaw to his chin. It was less than a touch, more like a butterfly whisper across his skin, a flutter.

And not a single patch of rough whisker to be found. He was baby smooth, talcum soft. Like his lips. Her gaze zeroed in on the two perfect pillows, illuminated to perfection by the red digital glow.

How many times had
she fantasised about kissing that mouth? Too many to count.

And there it was, right in front of her.