Jess shivered and wished she had a cup of coffee in her hands. She was cold, tired, and she wanted a hot bath and to curl up in her favourite pajamas. She wanted a chick-flick and popcorn, a romance novel and chocolate... She did not want to accompany Luke to a wine-tasting hosted by one of the most well-respected food critics in the country.
Maybe the giraffe could go with him?
Luke was not amused when she put the suggestion to him five minutes later.
‘I’d rather jump off Table Mountain than be forced to listen to her babydoll voice all night,’ Luke retorted. He tipped his head to one side. ‘What’s your problem? You’ve been like a bear with a sore head all day.’
‘I have not!’
‘Please—your expression could curdle milk,’ Luke said. ‘You haven’t been your normal bubbly self.’
You didn’t have to watch yourself kiss her, Jess told him silently, and wrinkled her nose. So this was what true jealousy felt like. Jess twisted her lips. She didn’t like it. It was so high school...
‘Are you—?’
‘I swear if you say it I’ll swat you,’ Jess warned him. ‘I am not jealous!’
Luke grinned and his eyes danced. ‘Really? Good to know. Except that wasn’t what I was about to say.’
Jess desperately wanted to curl up into a little ball and whimper with embarrassment. ‘What were you going to say?’ she asked, forcing the words out between clenched teeth.
Luke’s smile widened and Jess really wanted to slap it off his face.
‘Are you...interested in a cup of coffee? I was going across the road to order some from that bakery over there.’ Luke nodded to the bakery across the street.
Jess wanted to toss her head, blithely refuse, but she was chilled to the bone. ‘Thank you.’ She sent him a stiff smile.
Luke grinned, turned and walked across to the bakery. Jess wished there was a wall she could bang her head against. What was wrong with her? She didn’t get jealous or snarky or grumpy...she wasn’t the type. Why was she feeling possessive about Luke? They weren’t dating or sleeping together, and a couple of sun-hot kisses didn’t mean anything. Shouldn’t mean anything...
Jealousy suggested an emotional connection which was unacceptable on so many levels. She wasn’t ready or willing to get involved again, and neither was he. They were both rational adults, in charge of their choices and their feelings. Theoretically.
Jess sighed. Maybe it was because she was spending too much time with him: familiarity breeding fondness.
Her mobile rang in her coat pocket and Jess pulled it out to see ‘Mum’ on the display. She greeted her mother and listened to the weekly family update. It was more rambling than usual and Jess, who knew her mother really well, wondered what her mother was up to.
When Liza finally ran out of trivia and didn’t say goodbye Jess knew that she was about to be set up. Since her mother’s and grandmother’s choice of men was always dodgy, Jess rolled her eyes.
‘He’s a second cousin, spends his weekends in Franschoek. Lee. Darling, you have to remember him!’ Liza pleaded after telling her that Lee was in set design in Cape Town. ‘You spent a day on the beach together when you were about five!’
‘Mum, I can barely remember the people I spent the day with on the beaches of Thailand, and that was last year! And, no, I’m not interested in dating.’ Jess watched as Model Girl tottered across the road to help Luke carry the coffee and scowled at the warm smile he gave her. He might not like her voice, but he sure didn’t mind sharing his sexy smile with her. ‘Mum, just hold on.’
Jess thought for a moment. Maybe it would be a good idea to dilute Luke’s overwhelming presence by spending some time with another man—give herself some distance, some perspective.
Jess could think of at least ten reasons why Luke shouldn’t even blip on her radar: she was a city girl, he was a farmer. Being open and sunny herself—today, admittedly was the exception—she wasn’t mad about brooding, private types. While he occasionally mentioned his grandfather and great-grandfathers, he refused to discuss the immediate past history of St Sylve, or explain why he and his father had been at such odds. He refused to discuss his father at all.
But there was still something about him that called to her. Jess knew that she was intrigued and curious, which was more dangerous than the sexual heat she experienced around him. She could shrug off the heat but it wasn’t so easy to ignore what was underneath the sexy package. His intellect, his dry humour, the well-hidden vulnerability in the tough, hard-nosed, reclusive man.