A funny feeling fluttered in her chest, an emotion she didn’t want to deal with. She leaned forward and pressed her mouth to his. They lingered there until his hand lifted and curled around her neck, his tongue caressing hers. Heat pooled low in her stomach, and that funny feeling in her chest expanded when she’d thought it would go away.
“I want you,” she whispered against his lips. “I want to touch you, Luke.” She tugged on his shirt with her good hand. “And see you.”
He pulled back and regarded her with a heavy-lidded stare so intense she couldn’t breathe. When he moved, she thought he might get up, might refuse her, but instead he tossed his shirt away. Then suddenly this powerful, sexy man was undressing her, and instead of sex making her feel just as powerful, in control, she felt fragile. Only fragile didn’t feel bad. It felt good. It felt like she didn’t have to try, she didn’t have to do anything but just be with him, relax and enjoy every kiss, every taste, every touch. But what if she gave everything she was, and then there was nothing left? Was it already too late? Maybe she already had.
****
After hours of talking, and making love, and making love some more, Julie and Luke were starving, and since he’d burned the sauce, they ordered pizza.
Julie lounged against his headboard, wearing only his t-shirt, while he wore the low-slung jeans he’d pulled on to greet the delivery man. As she was as big a sports fan as Luke, they’d eaten a large pizza while watching SportsCenter and arguing about baseball pitchers.
They were fighting over the last slice when Luke’s cell phone rang by the nightstand. He reached over her and kissed her before snagging it. His brow furrowed at the number, and then he answered, “This is Luke Walker.”
Julie watched his emotionless face as he listened, and then said, “I’m still considering it.” He listened a minute longer and then hung up without saying another word.
“Something wrong?” she asked, fairly certain that answer was ‘yes’. Luke might not have reacted to the call, but his lack of reaction in itself was telling.
“That was Elizabeth’s sister,” he surprised her by saying. “She was following up to see if we’d made a decision about helping or not.”
“That was fast,” Julie said. “It’s barely a full day.”
“And she called me, not you.”
“I noticed that,” she said. “Not that she had my number. Makes me wonder if she was using me to get to you.”
“You know what I wonder?” he asked but didn’t wait for a reply. “I wonder how she got my number when it’s a private line I don’t give out freely.”
Chapter Twelve
Monday morning, after Luke insisted on dropping her off, Julie headed up the steps in her office building with her cream colored heels clicking on the pavement. Protective as he was, she should feel suffocated, but she didn’t. Maybe it was how great the weekend with him had been, or maybe it was the nightmares about Elizabeth that continued to haunt her.
She turned to wave to him where he waited by the curb and then headed into the building. With a smile, she refocused on the glass doors, catching a glimpse of herself in a light blue suit dress. The reflection of a man drew her up short.
She froze, then frowned. The image had disappeared. It couldn’t have been who she’d thought it was. It was so ridiculous that she wasn’t even going to let herself finish the thought. She forced herself not to turn around again and to head into the building for fear of alarming Luke, but as she walked across the glossy white lobby floor she was more bothered than not. The thought she didn’t let herself finish came to her mind of its own accord.
The reflection had been of a man who looked just like the stranger from the Chicago hotel, the one from the elevator and the bar. Which again, she thought, was insanity. Julie waved at the security guard sitting at the long black glass panel, and headed for the elevator.
She stepped into the quiet lobby of the law firm she had considered her second home for years. Once she was in the private office area she found her secretary, Gina, already sitting at her desk working.
“Morning,” Gina said, her auburn hair twisted elegantly at her nape, her olive green suit matching her eyes perfectly. “Coffee’s ready. I’ll bring a cup in to you.”
Julie stopped in front of Gina’s desk. She was pretty and efficient, and even played cat sitter for Julie on this last trip, and yet Julie barely knew her. She didn’t let herself get close to people at work. She didn’t let herself get close to anyone but Lauren and...Luke.
“That’s thoughtful,” Julie said. “Thank you. I’m not sure I say that enough.”
Gina blinked and a stunned look slid over her face. “I’ve been bringing you coffee for as long as I’ve been here, and you have, uh, never said anything like that.”
Julie silently replayed Gina’s words in her head. Anything like that. Surely she didn’t mean ‘thank you’. When had she become that uncaring of others? Had she survived this life, this world of divorce, by blocking out the rest of the world to the point she didn’t even behave politely?
“Well,” Julie said slowly. “I should have. I’m really sorry.” Julie left Gina gaping at her, and the reaction twisted her in knots. She wasn’t liking the view of herself from her assistant’s eyes. She’d had to withdraw to survive her career, and it had changed her.
Julie walked into her office without another word. She deposited her briefcase on the credenza and her purse in a drawer before sitting down behind her desk. Dropping her elbows on the flat surface, she let her chin settle on her knuckles.