he dismissed. ‘And you are far from the first woman I’ve seen partially, or indeed fully, unclothed. I just happen to think it would make things a little more—acceptable.’
‘To whom?’
‘To anyone who cares to be interested,’ he came back irritably.
She was too tired to remind him that only minutes ago he had claimed that he didn’t have to justify his actions to anyone; it was his apartment, he had the right to make any rules about their living together that he cared to. ‘I can accept that,’ she shrugged, sure this man was too ‘proper’ to leave his own bedroom without sufficient clothing, even when he was alone here. It seemed incredible that he was the man she had found so exciting in her pre-teen years; he now appeared too staid and respectable for such an interest, despite his good looks.
‘Good,’ he bit out. ‘Then I suggest you get your coffee and go to bed.’
She hadn’t been spoken to in this condescending manner since she was a child—if then! Her parents had always treated her like a person in her own right, even to the extent of fully examining her feelings on the subject before they decided to get a divorce. Lucas treated her as if she didn’t have a brain of her own.
Nevertheless, she made no demur, too tired and worn at this moment to argue her maturity. When the shock of her mother’s death receded a little it would be a different matter!
Lucas had gone from the lounge when she returned from the kitchen, and she could only assume he had gone to his own room to prepare for his date with Jennifer. She couldn’t help wondering about the other woman. A mature woman of thirty-two, Lucas had called her on the telephone. Was that all he wanted in his arms, maturity? Chelsea didn’t doubt Jennifer would be beautiful, and that she would also be sophisticated enough to conduct an affair with Lucas, because the relationship was obviously a physical one. But would she be nice, warm, or would she possess that remoteness that made Lucas so alien to those about him, made him seem removed? Probably the two of them would never meet, although Jennifer sounded as if she would like to see her.
‘I forgot to give you the brandy——’ Lucas broke off awkwardly as he entered her bedroom without knocking, his mouth tightening disapprovingly as her unbelted robe showed she wore nothing beneath it. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said abruptly. ‘I had no idea … I thought you would be in bed,’ he rasped, his jaw rigid.
‘I just cleaned my teeth.’ She handled the situation so much more calmly than he, retying the belt on her robe with hands that shook only slightly. And that wasn’t just because for a moment, a very brief moment, she had seen acknowledgment of her as a woman in the dark brown depths of his eyes; his own appearance was much more devastating. The black evening suit and snowy white shirt made him appear taller and broader than ever, and so handsome he took her breath away.
‘I see,’ he harshly acknowledged her statement. ‘I forgot to give you the brandy.’ He held up a glass with about an inch measure in it. ‘This should help you sleep.’
Her eyes widened. ‘That much should knock me out!’ she derided. ‘Believe it or not, I rarely, if ever, touch alcohol.’
His expression darkened. ‘Chelsea——’
‘Thank you for the brandy,’ she hastily interrupted the reprimand she had invited by her mockery. ‘I’ll drink it in a moment.’
‘You haven’t taken the tablets yet?’
Her mouth tightened; did he think she was completely stupid! ‘No.’
‘Good,’ he nodded curtly, holding out the glass to her with a long, lean hand.
Chelsea took it with unsteady fingers, feeling angered by this further display of arrogant authority, wishing Jace had never sent her here, although understanding the reason that he had. But that didn’t make Lucas’s behaviour any easier to bear. ‘Thanks,’ she told him abruptly. ‘And I think perhaps we ought to establish another ground rule.’ Her head was back defiantly, ‘I won’t walk into your bedroom without first knocking if you won’t walk into mine.’
A dark hue coloured his lean cheeks. ‘I wasn’t thinking when I did that, it won’t happen again.’
She instantly felt contrite for being rude when he had offered her his hospitality. ‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘It seems Jace has put us both in an awkward position by imposing on you in this way.’
‘When you’re family it isn’t an imposition,’ he replied in a preoccupied voice.
‘Family …?’ she frowned. ‘I would hardly say your friendship with Jace makes me that.’
Lucas straightened, nothing preoccupied about him now. ‘I’ve known you almost from the moment you were born, I feel like your uncle,’ he dismissed abruptly.
‘Feeling like one and actually being one are two different things,’ she snapped, chagrined that he still continued to treat her like a child. He had a shock coming to him when she was feeling more like herself; she didn’t always wear the casually youthful clothing she had arrived in, could be sophisticated herself when she needed to be, or wanted to be. And Lucas’s attitude was making her want to be more and more.
Lucas’s expression was guarded as he looked at her. ‘Nevertheless, that’s what I feel like,’ he insisted coldly. ‘Are you sure you’re going to be all right while I’m out?’ he abruptly closed the subject.
‘I’ll be fine,’ she nodded.
‘I won’t be too late,’ he told her as he walked to the door, the gold cufflinks gleaming brightly at his wrists as his hand came up to open it.
‘Don’t hurry back on my account,’ she shrugged.
‘I won’t,’ he snapped.
Chelsea sighed as he took offence at her words. ‘Lucas …’
‘Yes?’ his eyes were narrowed.
‘I—I—Oh God!’ Her control finally crumpled, her legs giving out weakly beneath her as she fell to the carpeted floor, her face buried in her hands as tears streamed down her cheeks.
She tried to resist the strong arms that pulled her to her feet, but Lucas was remorseless in his intent, holding her tightly against the hardness of his chest as deep shudders wracked her body as she continued to cry. She cried until she had no more tears left to cry, loud agonised sobs as the pain of losing her mother ripped through her. And as she cried Lucas just continued to hold her, not saying a single word, just supporting her in his strong arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ she gulped at last, raising her head to see with dismay the huge damp patch she had made on his jacket and shirt, the black bow-tie at his throat looking slightly limp too. ‘Oh God, look what I’ve done,’ she groaned, brushing down the damp material.
‘Leave it,’ Lucas instructed curtly.
‘But I’ve messed up your——’
‘I said leave it, Chelsea.’ He grasped her arms, holding her in front of him. ‘Do you think I care about being slightly damp?’
A wan smile twisted her mouth. ‘A lot damp,’ she corrected.
‘It
