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The Man From her Wayward Past

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‘How could I forget?’

She knew exactly the day he was referring to. As Luke turned to stare at the spot where their two families had gathered she took the chance to pull on her clothes. By the time Luke turned around his face had softened and all the anger was gone.

‘My brothers nearly set fire to the table,’ she said, remembering.

‘The table my mother insisted must be brought down from the guest house, complete with linen tablecloth, silver table settings and candlesticks,’ Luke supplied.

‘My mother burnt the food.’ She began to smile.

‘But your father saved the day,’ Luke pointed out.

‘Your father helped,’ she reminded him. ‘They really liked each other, didn’t they?’

‘Strangely, they did,’ Luke agreed, remembering his stiff, unbending father forming a surprisingly easy relationship with Lucia’s striking, autocratic father.

‘Not sure our mothers got on so well,’ she said, ‘though they always made the effort—’

‘Both of them were polite to a fault,’ Luke cut in, ‘though there was never going to be too much common ground between them,’ he admitted, thinking back. His mother had always been too worried about what people might think, while Lucia’s mother hadn’t given a damn.

‘They were good days,’ she said quietly.

‘Yes, they were,’ he agreed, shifting position to shield her from the wind. ‘You’d better get back to the house.’

Luke wanted space—just as she did sometimes, Lucia guessed, taking the hint. ‘I’ll head in and grab the first shower,’ she said.

‘Were you crying when I first came down to the beach?’ Luke probed softly, returning to the subject uppermost in his mind.

‘I should have remembered you’re the master of waiting until you’re certain your dart will strike home.’ Her mouth pulled in a rueful line.

‘That wind can be a real nuisance sometimes,’ Luke commented, but his eyes were warm with concern.

‘Yes, it can be,’ she agreed, holding his gaze steadily.

He caught hold of her as she went to move past him. ‘So, do we have a bargain?’ he demanded, staring into her eyes. ‘A bargain not to hide our feelings about the past from each other?’

‘All right … Yes, we do.’ She couldn’t pretend she wasn’t disappointed that that seemed to be the only thing on Luke’s mind.

Lifting his hands away from her, he let her go. ‘Margaret’s been talking about a party for everyone involved in the restoration of the guest house. Have you heard anything about it, Lucia?’

‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘Will you be here for it?’

‘I’ll do my best.’

Hurt, she demanded, ‘How low down on your list are we?’

‘Not low enough,’ Luke growled.

When he yanked her close this time she was expecting some sort of lecture, but that was the last thing Luke had in mind. All thoughts of Luke the friend, Luke the almostbrother, shot out of her head, to be replaced by Luke the man she had watched over the years growing into a formidable warrior, protector, leader, unofficial guardian angel. And, whether she wanted him in the past or not, pain-in-the-neck adviser. And unashamed sexual tiger, she was now forced to add to that list.

As emotion overwhelmed her she clung to him, standing on tiptoe to kiss him back. Luke soothed as he stimulated, and claimed her for his own even as he set her free. But he knew everything there was to know about wild creatures, and that like the wildest and most wary of them all Lucia needed the ultimate coaxing, so even as her own passion grew Luke stepped back.

‘The wind’s blowing up again,’ he pointed out. ‘You should get back to the house before you catch cold, Lucia.’

His thoughts were always for others and not himself. ‘Just one thing first.’

‘Name it.’

‘Equals?’ She held out her hand to shake his.



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