She sighed loudly. She was still thrown by coming face to face with Clara again. Would it ever be any different though? Was she really stronger than his ex wife? She hoped so, but she wasn't as sure as Lucas. One thing she knew for sure, it was doing her head in having his ex thrust in her face, mouthing off when she least expected it.
But Lucas was still waiting an answer. He wanted to know why it got to her.
It's because I'm falling in love with you, and I'm afraid. Staring up at his face Naomi wondered how long she would have survived, had she tried to walk out on him forever. How many steps would she have taken before she halted, looked back, turned back? Despite everything, she couldn’t resist him. Just when she should have been guarding her heart – and her business interests – she’d succumbed to him again.
Lucas Eaglestone had a magnetic claim on her. Despite her anger and humiliation, he’d still been able to work that magnetic charm and haul her back from the precipice. He seemed to know instinctively how to act in a given situation for the best result. He’d handled his ex wife skillfully, not allowing her to gain traction on an awkward situation, and then he’d shown Naomi how much she’d regret leaving. Did he ever get it wrong? Push
too far, demand too much?
Of course he did. He’d had to work hard to prove the contract offer he’d made wasn’t entangled with their relationship. She still wasn’t sure about the complications, because she liked order and simplicity, but he was working all the time to prove himself on that point.
Did he thrive on the drama? Two women fighting over him? She didn’t know, but she figured there was only one way to find out.
“I'm somewhat invested in you," she offered, finally, "currently. I'm enjoying our affair. She's threatening that." She shrugged, unwilling to say how she really felt. "I guess she unnerves me.”
“She shouldn't.” He sighed, but stood more easily, as if grateful she’d spoken.
“That scene out there with your wife, two women fighting over you…was it a thrill for you?”
He quickly shook his head. “No. It was a complete nightmare.”
“Some men would enjoy that.”
His eyebrows drew together. “Naomi, I'm not involved in this for a transient thrill, or to give my wife something to chew on. There’s a lot at stake here." He paused, and she felt the weight of his seriousness. He came closer and rested his hand at her waist. "I don't take unnecessary risks when there’s a lot at stake.”
What did he mean by that? She gazed into his eyes, wanting to hear more.
“Naomi, right now – and outside of my son – you’re my focus. The last thing I need is Clara messing with what we have. Its early days for us.” He ran his hand down her side, studying her closely as he did so. "What did Clara say to you? It looked pretty heated."
"Just batting insults back and forth, nothing major."
He raised an eyebrow.
Naomi tried not to be irritated. She tidied her shirt collar while she answered him. "She called me a tart, I called her a bitch. That sort of thing."
Lucas shook his head. "Pointless."
Annoyance tripped through her. "She's keeping her claws well and truly hooked into you, that's the point."
"Clara and I are history." He looked and sounded adamant.
"You might think that," she blurted, "but she keeps announcing she's your wife, did you know that?"
"No." He frowned. "I suspect only when it suits her."
"Well, yes. I figured that." She leaned over and tugged his shirt collar straight. "But why?"
"Hedging her bets maybe." He pushed his fingers through his hair, tidying it, and shrugged. "She's seeing this guy, but it's on/off. I heard he keeps trying to go back to his wife. That won’t go down well with Clara."
She put one hand on her hip, assessing him. "So your best guess is you're her security blanket and that’s as far as it goes, not that she really wants you back?"
"Yes. However it doesn’t matter what her motivation is." He looked uneasy, as if he'd realized how annoying it was for her. "I’m glad she’s gone, but more importantly I’m glad you're here.”
“You made it impossible for me to leave.” She reached for her portfolio bag where it had been dropped on the floor, then threw him an accusing glance. It was the truth and her emotions tangled, resentment and fear edging into the glorious afterglow and the intimacy they were sharing.
“I didn’t force you to be fucked, did I?”
“Yes. “