It Was Only a Kiss

She’d initially thought she’d take two days to do the trip, but when she’d reached halfway she’d thought she would push through. She now wished she’d stopped. She had a massive headache and, although she’d done nothing all day but steer, she felt dirty and sweaty. Her hair was unbrushed and her teeth felt as if they were dripping enamel from the energy drinks she’d chain-drunk earlier.

Jess saw lights blazing from the guest house, and when she saw Luke’s Land Cruiser parked in the driveway she knew that he was home and not out on a date or—eeew—a sleep-over. Thank goodness.

Right. Before she saw him again, a quick recap on all she’d decided during the day. Living and working so closely with Luke was going to be a challenge. She got that. He was gorgeous, and she was crazy-mad attracted to him, but she couldn’t act on it.

‘No acting on the attraction.’ She muttered her new mantra. ‘No acting on the attraction.’ She just needed to say it forty times a day—an hour?—and her brain would be reprogrammed. Maybe.

When she wasn’t so tired she’d sit him down and lay out some simple ground rules. She was here to do a job, so kissing and touching and most especially sleeping together were out. She’d didn’t sleep with her clients. It was unprofessional. And when trouble brewed it always mucked up the business relationship. Always.

Besides that, attraction spilt over into involvement, which tended to make her end up feeling as if she’d tossed her heart to a pack of rabid, starving wolves.

Luke would just have to understand that for the next few weeks he might own her time, but her body wasn’t included in the deal. Her body, slutty thing that it was, wasn’t very impressed with that decision. Tough. Someone had to be the adult...

In the light of her headlights she saw the front door of the guest house open and Luke’s tall silhouette in the doorway. She parked her car next to his Cruiser and switched off her iPod, playing through the car speakers. Hard rock stopped mid-wail and there was blessed silence in the car. Why hadn’t she done that earlier? Oh, right—the edgy album had kept her from falling asleep and drifting off the road.

Jess released the seat belt as Luke opened her door. She smiled wearily up at him, her eyes wide and blinking against the interior light. ‘Hi.’

Luke rested his arm on the top of the car and stood in the doorway. Instead of giving her a smile and a warm greeting, she saw his face was hard in the dim light. ‘When did you leave home?’ he barked.

That wasn’t a friendly woof. Jess frowned. No hello? No good to see you?

‘Uh...this morning,’ Jess replied. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘Damn right it is,’ Luke whipped back. ‘What do you think you are doing, driving thirteen hours straight? Without letting anyone know? If you’d had an accident how would I have known? You could be lying in a ditch somewhere and I’d still think you’d be arriving tomorrow!’

Jess blinked at his tirade. ‘Uh−’

‘Did you let anyone know?’ Luke demanded, increasing his volume with every word.

‘No, I—’

‘It’s stupid and irresponsible. Do you know what can happen to a woman driving on her own?’

‘They arrive safely?’ Jess asked, her temper starting to bubble.

‘You could’ve hit a cow, broken down, had a puncture...’

Jess spoke in her coldest voice as she stepped out of the car. ‘I’m a grown woman who doesn’t need to check in like a child. I didn’t break down, have a puncture or—good grief!—hit a cow! I am here safely. I want a cup of tea, a shower and a warm bed. Can I get any or all of those, or do you need to yell at me some more?’

‘You would try the patience of a flipping saint.’

‘And that saint wouldn’t be you,’ Jess snapped back. She opened the back door and yanked a large tote bag from the seat. Luke took the bag and Jess reached for it. ‘I can carry my own bag!’

‘Fine.’ Luke dropped the bag to the ground and held up his hands. This woman was going to drive him nuts, up the wall...

Jess picked up her bag, slung it over her shoulder and squinted at the dark manor house. ‘No lights?’

‘Obviously not. Since I was expecting you tomorrow!’

He’d planned on switching on the electrics and the geyser feeding her bathroom in the manor house in the morning, so he supposed he’d have to install her in his tiny guest bedroom/storeroom for the night.

Joy of joys. How was he supposed to sleep, imagining her in a bed not more than a thirty-second walk from his own?