“Oh.” I do not want to hear this.
“Yeah.”
“How long ago?”
“I broke it off over a year ago.”
“I thought you said that you’ve never introduced anyone to your family.” I lean my head back on the tub. I just can’t look at him when I’m feeling jealous and nervous and unsure.
“I haven’t. They never met her. They knew of her, more so after the fact.”
I’m staring at the ceiling, listening to him, trying to find that zen-like calm I found at this parent’s dining room table.
“Why?” My voice is calmer than I feel.
“Because she went to the tabloids and said that she was pregnant when I decided to break our engagement.”
“What the fuck?” My head snaps up and I hold his gaze. “You’re a father?”
“No!” He tightly closes his eyes and shakes his head in frustration. “She sold the lie to the tabloids to get back at me for breaking up with her.”
“You were going to marry her?” I feel like I’ve been kicked in the stomach.
“Yes.” He’s watching me warily, no doubt gauging my reaction to all of this.
“And you never introduced her to your family?”
“She never had much interest in meeting them. Whenever I’d arrange it, something would come up.” He shrugs.
“And you didn’t find that odd?”
“I do now.”
“Why did you break it off?”
“Because she wasn’t right for me.”
“That’s a lame answer.”
“It’s the truth.” He shrugs, and then sighs. “I guess I finally realized that had I not been famous or wealthy she wouldn’t have given me the time of day.
She didn’t like it that I’d stopped acting, and hoped that the producing thing was just a phase and I’d miss being the center of attention. She wanted to be a celebrity
wife,
and
that
wasn’t
something I was interested in.”
“Do you still talk to her?”
“No.”
I lean my head back again and look at my now wrinkled fingers. The water is starting to cool. Time flies when you’re trying to hold a calm conversation about your lover’s ex-fiancé.
“I guess that explains a lot.”
“Nat…”
“Hold on.” I hold my hand up to stop him. “Give me a minute.”
“Okay,” he frowns and continues to rub my feet.
Why do I feel so betrayed all over again? And then it hits me.
“I must have looked pretty stupid to your family when I didn’t know about your ex-fiancé.”
He abruptly leans forward and pulls me onto his lap, ignoring the water sloshing onto the floor and wraps his arms around me.
“You were magnificent tonight. I didn’t know if I should be proud or emasculated at the way you jumped to my defense like that.”
“You should have warned me.”
“I know.”
I run my fingers through his hair and sigh. “We still have so much to learn about each other.”
“We’ll get there, baby.”
“It made me crazy when your sister was talking about you like that.”
He shakes his head and laughs ruefully. “Ironically, she was talking about you, baby.”
“I know, but in doing so she made it about you, and I couldn’t stand it.”
“No one has ever jumped to my defense like that. You were so calm and sure of yourself, and so pissed off. Your green eyes were on fire, and you just looked so beautiful. I wanted to fuck you right there at the table.”
“Luke Williams!” I pull back and stare at him, shocked.
“It’s true. You turned me on, big time.”
“I don’t think that would have been appropriate with your parents sitting at that same table.”
“I don’t think I would have cared if the Pope and Elvis were sitting at that table.”
I laugh and snuggle up against him again.
“Oh, baby, what am I going to do with you?”
“Anything you want.”
“Come on.” He stands me up out of the water, and then climbs to his feet behind me. I can’t get over how strong he is. He moves me around like I’m nothing at all.
He slings a towel around his hips, and grabs another soft, white, fluffy towel off the towel warmer and wraps it around me. He pulls me against him and kisses me deeply, passionately, before letting go so he can dry my body.
Oh my.
He runs the towel up and down me, soaking up the extra moisture. I can’t resist leaning forward and kissing his sternum and I hear his quick inhale.
When I’m dry, I take the towel from around his waist and return the favor, enjoying the intoxicating sight of his muscular physique.
“There, all dry,” I whisper.
“Thank Christ.” He pulls me to him, his hands in my hair, and kisses me deeply. I wrap my arms around him and drag my nails down his back.
“God, baby, you’ll unman here in the bathroom.”
“Good.” I scrape his back again and he growls against my neck. He abruptly spins me around and plants my hands on the vanity facing the wide mirror over the sinks. I look up and am taken aback by the sexy sight that is Luke standing behind me, about six inches taller than me, all golden hair and bronze body, leaning down to kiss my bare shoulders.