Abby dabbed at her breasts and tried not to notice how close he was. She could smell the subtle lime notes of his aftershave and a base note of something else, something woodsy and arrantly masculine. She could even see the individual pinpoints of his regrowth on his chin, the way it was liberally sprinkled around his well sculptured mouth, making her want to press her fingertips to it to see if it felt as prickly as it looked.
She balled the soiled handkerchief into one hand while the other pulled her soaked sweater away from her breasts. ‘Do you have something I could wear while I take this off and rinse it?’
‘Can’t you just put your coat over it or something?’
Abby blew out a breath. ‘This sweater cost me a week’s wages.’ No way was she going to admit it was second-hand. ‘And don’t get me started about my bra.’ Which wasn’t second-hand and had cost a packet because no way was she going to wear someone else’s underwear. She had done that for most of her childhood.
His frown made his forehead wrinkle like isobars on a weather map. ‘Unbelievable.’
‘What? Why do you say that?’ Abby asked. ‘I work at a fashion magazine. I have to wear the latest fashion. I can’t be seen out and about in last season’s threads.’
‘Don’t they give you freebies or a discount?’
Abby moved her gaze to the left of his. ‘I’m not a fashion editor. I just write a weekly relationships column.’
‘Come with me,’ he said and led the way out of the room to the downstairs bathroom. ‘Wait here. I’ll bring you something from upstairs.’
Abby closed the bathroom door and took off the sweater. She grimaced at the state of her bra. Why had she worn the virginal white one when she could have worn the red?
Because you’re a virgin?
Don’t remind me.
Which made her wonder…when was the last time Luke had sex? Had he had sex with anyone since Kimberley’s death? Five years was a long time to be celibate if you’d had a regular sex life before. Which Abby was pretty certain he’d had. Men as sexy as Luke Shelverton did not have to work too hard to find lovers. One look from him and women came out of the woodwork like termites.
There was a knock at the bathroom door and Abby held a hand towel across her breasts and opened the door. Luke handed her a finely woven sweater the colour of his eyes. ‘I know it’s too big but I don’t have anything your size.’
Abby took the sweater from him and held it against her chest along with the towel. She could smell the clean scent of wool wash on the soft fibres and even a faint trace of him. ‘Ella told me she thought you still had some of Kimberley’s clothes.’
His eyes hardened to chips of blue ice. ‘Is this scheme of stand-in fiancé something you and Ella have cooked up together?’
Abby held the sweater against her chest like armour. ‘No. It was my idea but she thought it was a good plan. She said it was high time you went to something other than a boring engineering function. And since you and Ella are the only people in my life who know I’m not really engaged, in a way you’re the only one who can help me.’
‘What about your family? Don’t they know?’
Family. That was another thing Abby had done some considerable embellishing over. She hadn’t even told Ella the truth about her background. Abby didn’t have a family. She didn’t want her friends, much less her adoring public, to know she had grown up in numerous foster homes with a bunch of other needy kids and overworked, overwrought, overbearing at times foster parents. The last family she’d stayed with had been the most functional, but even they hadn’t kept in touch with her once she’d left the foster system.
Even Abby’s surname was a stage name because she had more skeletons in her closet than she had clothes. She didn’t want anyone putting her real surname in a search engine and linking her to a now deceased drug-addicted prostitute and a man currently in jail for assault with a deadly weapon. She couldn’t bear reliving the shame all over again. Being reminded she had never been loved as a child should be loved, never protected as a child should be protected.
Never wanted.
There were some things you just had to keep private.
Abby couldn’t quite meet Luke’s gaze. ‘Of course they know. But it’s not like they can do anything. You’re the only one I can ask to do this.’
‘I’m sorry, Abby. You’ll have to find someone else.’
Abby forgot about covering her wine-splashed bra and handed him back his sweater. ‘Look, Luke, I know the last five years have been tough on you, really tough, but don’t you ever want to just go out and have a night on the town like normal people do?’