‘I’ll pack the breakables,’ she called back, retreating into the caravan.
‘Here!’ Luke called her back. ‘Before you come outside again put this on.’
He reached out to hand her his jacket, but before she could take hold of it he draped it round her shoulders.
‘Now, let me go and hitch this thing up,’ he said brusquely, turning away.
Wind and rain apparently made no impact on Luke’s mighty jean-clad frame. She leaned her head against the doorframe for a moment, watching him, waiting until he had disappeared round the side of the caravan. His clothes were nicely moulded to his body, and as she pulled his jacket close she could only be happy when she found that it was still Luke-warm.
She packed up quickly and then went to wait in the pick-up. Resting her head against the worn leather seat, she listened to Luke’s music tracks as she absorbed the scent of truck oil, spice and soap. The warmth in the cab, with its overlay of Luke, made her feel all homey and contented. Her imagination soon took flight.
And quickly came down to earth again when Luke joined her in the cab with a blast of cold air and a blaze of energy, following it up by barely acknowledging her before starting the engine. She was taking a chunk out of his day. That was obvious. Luke kissing her was a long-ago fantasy. He’d tried it and parked it.
Releasing the brake, he inched the truck forward. The sound of creaking and grinding was alarming as the old caravan moved reluctantly off its site.
‘Hang on!’ Luke exclaimed as they hit a pothole.
She gasped as the truck lurched and she fell into him.
Shrugging her off, Luke turned to glance over his shoulder. ‘Lucky escape.’
He was probably right, Lucia thought, moving as far away as possible.
‘This is the place,’ he said, when they reached the shelter of some trees. ‘I scouted round earlier. The caravan will be private here, and it’s safe on level ground.’
Which was more than she was, Lucia reflected ruefully. ‘Do you want me to get out and check round?’
‘You stay there,’ he said, springing down.
The caravan was soon unhitched, and when Luke climbed back into the cab he looked at her. ‘Okay, you can go now,’ he prompted, gesturing with his chin towards the door.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To the Grand for a shower,’ Luke offered, his brooding amber gaze alive with the first humour of the day. ‘Is that a problem for you?’
‘No,’ she said, as if she couldn’t care less. She had thought he might stay …
‘My jacket?’ Luke prompted as she reached for the door.
If she was waiting for another kiss that experiment was clearly over, she concluded, tugging it off and handing it over.
‘Let this be an end to the risk-taking,’ Luke advised.
So don’t come round again, she thought, staring him in the eyes. But when her gaze dropped to his lips she was prompted to promise fervently, ‘No more risks of any kind.’
Slapping the side of the truck as she got out, she walked back to the caravan. She felt hollow as she watched Luke drive away. She shouldn’t have kissed him. She shouldn’t have flirted with him. She shouldn’t have allowed herself to think for one moment that they could be anything but friends. Maybe she’d spoiled even that. Maybe Luke’s offer of a job was just a way of keeping her in one place so her brothers always knew where she was.
Did she have so little confidence?
Where Luke was concerned? Yes. It was hard to feel upbeat when she felt as if she’d lost him—when she felt as if the Luke she’d used to know didn’t exist any more. And she missed that man.
Lucia’s heat remained in his jacket all the way back to the hotel. He tried to ignore how that made him feel, and settled into accepting some facts that couldn’t be changed. Lucia was his best friend’s sister. She was the closest thing he had to a sister. But he wanted her.
And Nacho?
He would tell Nacho the truth—that there was no quick fix for a woman of Lucia’s temperament, and that her brother would just have to be patient for once.
And how