you think I’m a workaholic?” Beth asked.
“Weeeell … You are. A bit.”
And honest to a fault. “I see.”
“The last time you took a day off was … Actually, you’ve never taken a day off. Since when’ve you had the chance to just lie on the beach and veg? Or come to think of it, been out on a date?”
Beth snorted. “And why haven’t you said anything before?”
Laura shrugged. “You never asked before. And you like working. The weird thing is you’re our target market, but you don’t practice what you preach.”
“And you think I need a man.”
“No. I think you need a little fun.” Laura grinned again. “And a little sex wouldn’t hurt.”
They pulled into the parking lot and Beth wound down her window for the ticket, effectively cutting off Laura’s train of thought.
If someone had told her a week ago she’d be sharing a house with Luke De Rossi, running from reporters and hunting down an ex-employee and a missing half-million dollars, she would’ve laughed in their face.
A shiver shot down her back. Yes, Luke seemed to be helping with her Ben problem. And she was attracted to him. But the issue wasn’t physical, it was mental. She didn’t want to let him into her life, into her secrets. Her head screamed danger every time she laid eyes on him.
Even if her body screamed the opposite.
At exactly nine-thirty, Beth and Laura walked down the mall toward a darkened shop front.
“Smell that,” Laura said softly as Beth unlocked the doors and whooshed them open.
Beth took a deep breath, punching in a security code as Laura flicked on the lights. “Frangipani, lavender. Lemongrass.”
“I can smell coffee,” Laura singsonged, dangling a bag of gourmet beans between two fingers. They both grinned.
“You fill the pot and I’ll fix things up here,” said Beth. She selected a key and switched on the cash register, straightened the flyers on the counter, then placed an errant pen in a cup.
Casting an eye over the familiar interior, she breathed in again with a smile, loving the crazy mix of scents that hit her senses. The place wasn’t huge, but she’d made use of every available space. A giant oak tree mural decorated the walls, each branch a protruding glass shelf that displayed various jellies, lotions and powders. Bath bombs, frothies and bottles of shower gel were divided in four tiers on the trunk and a small white sink sat discreetly in the wall, a half-empty body-wash tester bottle on the side.
As usual, everything was in its place.
This was her reality. It was just another normal day.
Please.
Crossing her fingers, she turned to the office, drawn in by the delicious coffee bean and mocha aroma.
Laura turned from the kitchenette and held out a packet of cookies. “Biscuit?”
“This early?”
“It’s never too early for Tim Tams.”
Beth grinned, plucked out a chocolate-covered cookie and munched slowly. “You want to check out the stock while we eat and drink?”
“Thought you’d never ask. I’ve got my eye on those new bath bombs.”
Beth made good use of the internet on her lunch break, searching for anything and everything on Luke De Rossi and Gino Corelli, then making a call to the titles office and local legal aid. Armed with new knowledge, she felt the rest of the day fly by until finally, at five-thirty, she dropped Laura off at her apartment then made her way home.
The sensationalist articles were no surprise. But what she hadn’t expected was the absence of Luke in the society and gossip columns.
She sighed, reluctant admiration warring with self-preservation as she pulled into her driveway. Despite how she personally felt about him, Luke was the quintessential high achiever and proud of it. A perfectionist. A man who was doing everything to protect his career. Who still reminded her of every arrogant, demanding suit she’d met, despite the man’s overwhelming charm.
Yet he’d still ended up poking holes in her prejudices. He could’ve stepped back and called in his highflying lawyers but he hadn’t. He could’ve left her on the airport tarmac. And he could’ve escaped that reporter crush alone, but instead he’d shielded her from the cameras, even offered to help her with the missing money. For all his alleged faults gleefully detailed in the press, actions spoke louder than tainted words.
And Beth felt like a certifiable ingrate.
As she slammed the car door and strode up the porch steps, the mouthwatering smell of garlic and onions hit her as soon as she swung the door open.
With a thick swallow and deep breath, she walked into the kitchen then peeked in the oven.
Lasagna.
Her smile stretched as she caught sight of the newly hinged pantry door, then the clean sink, the dust-free countertop….
And a bunch of potted gerberas in the center of the kitchen table.
Luke had certainly made himself at home.
“Luke?” She walked slowly into the living room only to finally notice the ominous silence.
“Hello?” She went to the back door and looked out. The silence was so thick she could have walked on it. Despite her quiet reassurances, panic slowly bubbled to the surface.
She was about to race up the stairs, but opted to explore the backyard further. It sloped down toward the riverbank and could obscure her vision of a fully grown man.
Sure enough, when she strode over the rise there he sat on the grass, his back to her, reclining on his elbows, his face accepting the late sunshine in lazy worship.
Beth had to take another inward breath to calm her pounding heart, gently tugging on her necklace as the beat gradually slowed.
Luke must have sensed her, because he turned, sending her a smile that heated her quicker than a January summer’s day—and her heart picked up again. “Hey, there.”
She swallowed, shading her eyes with a hand. “Hi.”
He turned fully this time, sprang to his feet with all the fluid motion of a man who kept his body in perfect shape. “You cooked,” she said faintly.
“I did promise you lasagna.”
She returned his smile, clamping down on the sudden surge of need. Nervously, she rubbed one palm against her leg.
Luke shoved his hands into his back pockets and the T-shirt pulled taut across his chest, leaving her breath in a hitch as muscles strained against well-worn cotton.
“How was work?”
