‘Nothing?’ Luke murmured, his gaze sharpening on her face. ‘Why can’t you trust me with the truth, Lucia? Haven’t we known each other long enough?’
The tension between them increased as the lift soared up to the penthouse floor, where she stepped out with relief into a beautifully decorated hallway. A lovely fresh smell hit her immediately, and though she was still reeling from her experience in the dining room she could appreciate the muted décor. Ivory walls and a thick crimson carpet beneath her feet to muffle sound, gilt mirrors glittering beneath concealed lighting. There were prints on the wall, and decorative touches of ruby and gold on lampshades and drapes.
Warm colours to make the guests feel cosy, she supposed as Luke opened the door leading into his suite. But she was still shivering.
Luke had barely closed the door when there was a discreet tap on it. It was two waiters arriving with coffee and brandy, and there was a birthday cake on a tray.
‘So that’s what you were arranging for me,’ she said, touched by the gesture.
Luke tipped the waiters and hustled them out.
‘You’re spoiling me,’ she said as he poured her a brandy and insisted she take a sip.
‘I refuse to be distracted, Lucia,’ Luke assured her. ‘Ever since I saw you at the club I’ve known something was wrong. And now tonight—’
‘There’s nothing wrong,’ she interrupted. ‘It’s just that you’ve never seen me striking out on my own before. It’s been a lovely evening. Can’t we leave it at that?’
‘A lovely evening?’ Luke queried with a penetrating glance.
‘So a drunk spoiled it briefly?’ She shrugged, brushing it off. ‘I can’t explain why I overreacted. I’m tired. It must be because I’m tired. It’s not as if I haven’t seen a drunk before.’ She laughed, but Luke’s face remained watchful and unsmiling. ‘Thank you for the shawl,’ she added, stroking it as the tension between them mounted. ‘I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed a birthday more.’
‘Possibly the day you celebrated by putting burrs under my saddle?’ Luke suggested, but there was little humour in his voice, and his stare plumbed deep as he searched for the truth she refused to share with him.
‘That was a contender,’ she agreed, forcing out another laugh.
They drank their coffee in tense silence, leaving the cake untouched, and finally Luke stood up. ‘I’ll take you home,’ he said.
And let him see where she was living? Wouldn’t that be the perfect end to the perfect day?
‘You don’t need to. My car’s parked right outside.’
‘You’ve had a shock, and I won’t let you go home alone,’ Luke said flatly.
‘Luke, I don’t need a babysitter.’
‘You’ve had a drink. I haven’t,’ he said, glancing at her empty brandy glass.
‘Then I’ll ask them to call a cab. Look, I don’t want us to part like this.’
‘Like what? You’re the one holding back, Lucia.’
‘Why are you so suspicious? You and my brothers are all the same.’ Composing herself, she stood to face him. ‘Thank you for a wonderful evening, Luke—for the meal, the gift, the card, the cake. You’re very kind—’
‘I am very kind.’
She longed to cling to that grain of humour, so she could remember how it used to be between them before she felt grubby and Luke became so far removed. She was almost at the door when she stopped and impulsively, almost as if she had to prove something to herself, stood on tiptoe to plant a kiss on Luke’s stubble-blackened jaw. ‘Thank you for everything, Luke.’
Luke turned to look at her at just the wrong moment—or maybe it was the right moment. Whatever happened, their lips touched briefly.
He might as well have plugged her in to the socket in the wall. She drew a shocked breath as the charge flashed through her. And, most confusing of all, it wasn’t fear that held her motionless in front of him but some shadow of the girl she’d used to be. It was enough.
Instead of moving away, Luke laced his fingers through her hair and drew her closer still. ‘Happy birthday, Lucia,’ he murmured, repeating the shock treatment in a more leisurely fashion.
She had to tell herself that Luke was just being kind—that this was a reaction to what had happened to her with the drunk, and not some declaration of intent on his part to take things further. But it was like a dream. Only better than any dream she’d ever had.
‘There’s something you need to know, Lucia,’ Luke said rather formally, pulling back. ‘We’re not kids any more and I don’t think of myself as your babysitter. One more thing,’ he added, catching hold of her arm when, thoroughly confused by now, she went to move away. ‘If you play with fire you will get burned.’
With her nerves stretched as taut as a bow string, she almost laughed. Luke had no idea how true that was.