The Heat of the Night. Amy Andrews
open as his erection surged again.
Crap.
What had he done?
He shook his head. No. He’d been having a normal male physiological response to an erotic dream and Claudia just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Nothing more, nothing less.
For God’s sake, they’d grown up practically siblings.
She was like the kid sister he’d never had. Following him around. Getting into all kinds of mischief and strife with him. Sometimes bratty, always devoted. There’d never been anything between them.
He’d never felt anything other than brotherly towards her.
Except the heat in his palm didn’t feel very brotherly. The memory of her softness, of her hardness, felt pretty damn carnal.
Which begged the question—why hadn’t they ever got together? Never had a fling? Never even shared a quick teenage pash? It made sense with their proximity. Of course, she’d been sixteen and he’d been twenty-one when he’d left over eleven years ago but there’d been plenty of times since.
Hell, the only time they’d kissed that didn’t revolve around a hello/goodbye was on New Year’s Eve—and that had never been anything other than a quick chaste peck on the cheek.
‘I have to go,’ Claudia said, stepping briskly out on the balcony in a very businesslike manner, tucking her shirt into her awful polyester capris. But Luke wasn’t fooled. She forgot he knew her better than anyone and she was as flummoxed as he was about the whole groping situation.
‘I’m sorry...about before,’ he said. Luke knew there was only one way to really deal with what had occurred on her bed.
The same way he dealt with everything.
Head-on.
‘Oh...don’t worry about it,’ Claudia dismissed, looking at the balcony tiles and nervously pulling at the wisps of her hair at the nape of her neck. ‘It was nothing.’
‘It was not nothing, Claude. It was not my intention to...molest you in my sleep when I crashed in the bed with you. I don’t think I can be held entirely accountable for my actions given that I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, but I believe in taking responsibility so...I apologise.’
Claudia peeked up at him through her fringe and gave him a vigorous nod. ‘Right...yes...good,’ she said. ‘Now do you think we could never speak of it again?’
Luke laughed then. He’d forgotten how endearingly funny Claudia could be. ‘Deal,’ he said and stuck out his hand.
She shot him a nervous-looking smile but returned the nice firm grip and he lingered for a moment longer than he would normally have. ‘Why didn’t we ever...?’
Claudia frowned. ‘What?’
‘Why didn’t we ever...get it on?’
Claudia pulled her hand from his at the unexpected question. He was so sophisticated now. So different from the boy she’d known. Even the way he spoke had changed. Gone were the broad, flat Aussie vowels. He sounded more cultured now, more anglicised. His voice had taken on a smooth richness that poured over her like thick double cream.
Why hadn’t they ever got together? Was he insane?
Because you were never interested, idiot.
But even as she thought it Claudia knew it wasn’t that simple. There was more to it than that. Much more. Stuff that had never been spoken but somehow she’d known intuitively.
‘Too...complicated.’ She shrugged. ‘We couldn’t have just had a fling where we spent some time together and then went our own separate ways because it wouldn’t just be us getting together, would it? It’d be our parents too. And if something happened...’
Luke nodded as she trailed off. ‘They’d have to take sides. It could ruin a friendship that’s somehow survived twenty years of being in business together.’
And if Luke knew one thing it was how easily work relationships turned to dust, and the long-reaching consequences that could have. He was still paying for the faith he’d put into his.
And he’d vowed to never stick his head in the mouth of that lion ever again.
Claudia shrugged. ‘We couldn’t do that to them. It wouldn’t be fair.’
Luke nodded. She was right. Their parents’ friendship was a very good reason why he needed to forget how it felt to have Claudia smooshed up against him. To have touched her breast. Felt it respond. He shut his eyes to block the mental image even as his palm tingled. He turned around, grabbing the railing hard as he stared out over acres of calm ocean.
Hell. He must be jet-lagged.
Get a grip, man.
Claudia let her gaze wander over the contours of his back. She supposed he didn’t have a tan any more. He used to. Surfing every day with Jonah, he used to go a dark nut-brown. His hair used to be long and shaggy.
And then he’d left.
Claudia dragged her mind back to the present. ‘I have to go,’ she said. ‘Avery needs me. Jonah can take you back to Cairns later if you like. I believe there’s an afternoon Qantas flight to Heathrow.’
Luke’s shoulders tensed and he counted to ten before he turned back to face her. ‘I’m not going anywhere for a week,’ he said. ‘I’ll help with the clean-up as much as I can. You might as well just go on and get used to it.’
Claudia regarded him for a moment. His jaw was rigid and his mouth was set in that obstinate line she remembered so well. She’d forgotten how stubborn he could be. And the reality was, she could ill afford to knock back help.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘Stay. See if I care. I need every bit of muscle I can get my hands on anyway. But we’re doing this my way—do you understand? I,’ she said, pointing to herself, ‘am the boss. You—’ she pointed at him ‘—are the muscle. Got it?’
Luke suppressed the twitch of his lips at Claudia’s Little Miss Bossy Britches act. He nodded without saying a word. He’d never been known as the muscle before but it brought a whole new connotation to her dominatrix spiel. She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at his easy capitulation but said nothing before turning on her heel and leaving.
His gaze was drawn to the swagger of her butt in those terrible capris.
Who knew polyester could suddenly seem so enticing?
The next day they got the all-clear to start the clean-up and for five long days Claudia and the whole crew worked like Trojans to clear the mountains of debris whirled up, ripped to shreds and dumped back down again by the cyclone.
Five long days from sun up to sun down—picking up, chopping up, loading, dumping and starting all over again. Crashing exhausted into bed each night with aches and pains and blisters galore. Waking early to do all again the next day.
Too busy to do any of the leisure things that could usually be indulged in at a beach resort. Too busy to relax on the beach or go surfing after shift end. Too busy for long, boozy chats late into the night. Too busy to take a day off and go out fishing in one of Jonah’s charter boats.
Too damn busy for sure to psychoanalyse a very weird moment that should never have happened. Too busy to question it. Too busy to barely say a dozen words to each other.
But when she shut her eyes, all bets were off and Claudia spent a lot of time fantasising about just where that moment could have gone. If she had shifted against him, slid her arm around his neck. If he had kissed her, if he’d pushed his hand under her shirt.
This was what happened when there were unfulfilled sexual fantasies. They just grew and