Bought: Damsel in Distress. Lucy King

Bought: Damsel in Distress - Lucy  King


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      ‘A night,’ he confirmed, grabbing her elbow and leading her into the lobby. ‘You’d better make the most of it.’

      ‘I shall,’ she said, flashing him a wicked smile. The sooner he got out of here the better. ‘I’ll raid the mini bar and download dozens of saucy films, and then Anna will rue the day she decided to auction me off to the highest bidder.’

      Saucy films? Luke’s jaw clenched. His fingers tightened and he quickened his pace. He needed to leave. Now. Before he succumbed to the demands his body had been making since the moment he’d laid eyes on her.

      He propelled her across the lobby, deposited her at the reception desk, and took a step back. For a second he just stared at her, his mind suddenly blank. Then he noticed that her mouth, that highly distracting mouth, was moving. He forced his attention to what she was saying.

      ‘Thank you for the lift,’ she said, smiling faintly.

      ‘You’re welcome. It was on my way anyway. Have a good weekend.’

      A shadow flickered across her face, clouding her eyes. ‘I’ll try. You too.’

      Luke gave her a brief nod, turned on his heel and strode towards the door. With every step he felt the return of his focus. Hell, not just his focus. His sanity. Ever since he’d clicked on that damn link that Jack had sent him and seen her photo he’d been steadily losing it. Lusting over her picture as if he was a hormonal adolescent instead of the cool, disciplined, rock-steady man he had made himself become. For a man who liked to be in control, the last few hours had been a harrowing experience.

      ‘Luke?’

      Her voice reached him when he was halfway to the door. You didn’t hear that, he muttered to himself. Don’t stop. Nearly there.

      ‘Luke?’

      This time her voice was closer and huskier, wrapping round the sound of his name like velvet, and it slammed him to a halt. He turned to find Emily standing a foot away from him, looking at him warily. ‘Yes?’

      ‘Would you come to this wedding with me?’

      When Luke went rigid, and paled beneath his tan, Emily instantly regretted the impulse that had made her run after him. She shouldn’t have asked. She knew that. It was just that as he’d walked away she’d had the oddest feeling that she’d never see him again. That somehow he’d arrange not to have to accompany her back to London on Sunday. And that she’d have to endure the torture of Tom’s wedding with nothing whatsoever to look forward to.

      But maybe he had plans for the weekend. She’d seen how busy he was from the endless string of phone calls that he’d juggled during the journey from the airport to the hotel. He must have piles of work to do. Why on earth would he want to waste his valuable time on her?

      No. That was Luke’s answer to her question. He had a stack of analyst reports and stockmarket data to get through before the weekend was over. Even if he hadn’t had that excuse, he hadn’t been to a wedding or inside a church in years, and he certainly wasn’t about to start now. So if that was what she’d been planning all along, she’d got landed with the wrong man.

      His eyes narrowed as he watched her, standing there waiting for his answer, fiddling with her hair, her green eyes shining steadily at him. She was nibbling on her lower lip again. An arrow of heat fired through him, tightening and stiffening his body, just as it had done on the plane. He fought back a surge of desire. Emily was resourceful and confident. She’d manage fine on her own.

      At the precise moment when Luke opened his mouth to tell her that he had other plans Emily jammed her hands in the back pockets of her jeans. The movement thrust her breasts forward and he lost what little sense he’d had left.

      ‘Forget it. I—’ she began.

      ‘Sure—why not?’ He cut her off, his voice thick and distant. His head throbbed with a sudden desperate urge to haul her up against him and see if she was as soft and yielding as she looked.

      ‘Really?’ Emily let out a breath and her shoulders relaxed, while Luke shoved a hand through his hair, nodded, and called himself all kinds of bloody idiot.

      ‘Great,’ she said, beaming at him. ‘It might even be fun. It’s at six tomorrow evening, at a château near Valensole. There’s a reception and a dinner afterwards.’

      Luke was looking shell-shocked. Emily was just beginning to wonder whether he’d heard her when he said, ‘I’ll pick you up at three.’

      She looked up at him in surprise. ‘Is it that far?’

      ‘A couple of hours.’

      Emily frowned. That changed things. She couldn’t expect him to give up such a large chunk of his weekend. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind?’ she asked.

      He lifted an eyebrow. ‘I may even be able to dig out a morning suit.’

      Emily smiled, feeling happier and more settled than she had in hours. ‘Thank you, Luke.’

      And then, because she really was grateful, and because it seemed the natural thing to do, she reached up and planted a light kiss at the corner of his mouth.

      But there was nothing natural about her reaction. The moment her mouth grazed his skin the world wobbled. Her lips tingled and his smell—clean, masculine and untainted by after-shave—swirled into her head. Sensation washed over her. Emily swayed and then jerked back, unable to stifle a tiny gasp of shock.

      She saw her own surprise and confusion and something else reflected in his eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and suddenly she couldn’t breathe. She was too close. The heat radiating off his body was scorching her. She stumbled back, but his hands shot out, and before she’d realised what was happening he was pulling her back against him, wrapping his arms around her and crashing his mouth down on hers.

      He took advantage of her parted lips instantly, his tongue darting into her mouth and exploring her with a thoroughness that turned her bones to water. His fingers tangled in her hair, angling her head, and he deepened the kiss. Emily’s heart banged around her chest and her blood raced around her body like a stream of fire.

      Her own hands found their way to his back and her fingers bunched the fabric of his jacket, itching to delve underneath and touch his skin everywhere. The hard length of his erection pressed against her stomach. His hand curved round to brush the side of her breast and she moaned into his mouth.

      She froze. The sound of her own desperate longing brought her thundering back to reality. What on earth were they doing? Locked together, kissing frantically, about to rip each other’s clothes off. In the lobby of a five-star hotel.

      An identical thought had obviously occurred to Luke at exactly the same time. His hands stilled and he pulled back, staring down at her, his eyes so dark they were almost black, his breathing ragged as he struggled to get his body back under control.

      ‘Oh, dear,’ he said huskily, letting her go, turning on his heel and striding out of the hotel.

      ‘That’s all he said? “Oh, dear”?’

      ‘Yes, for the tenth time, that’s all he said.’ Emily closed her eyes and flopped back on the bed, seriously doubting the wisdom of calling her sister in the hope that she’d be able to shed some light on the situation.

      ‘How did he say it?’

      An image of Luke’s face just before he marched off floated into her head. ‘Kind of neutral. Expressionless. Blank. What do you think he meant?’

      ‘Who knows? It could be anything from That was fantastic and I’m in danger of falling head over heels in love with this woman—’

      Emily’s heart lurched for a second. ‘Rather unlikely, don’t you think?’

      ‘—to God, I pity you. Your kissing technique is diabolical.’

      Emily groaned and clapped


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