not seeing anyone right now,’ he said, ‘so it’s not a relevant question. That’s why I asked you to come with me: to give me a female viewpoint.’
‘What about your mother? Your sister?’
‘I don’t have either.’
She flushed. ‘I’m sorry, Luke. I didn’t mean to stamp on a sore spot.’
‘You weren’t to know,’ he said lightly. He knew Sara would assume that his mother was dead; he had no idea whether his mother was still alive or not, but he’d lost her a long time ago. Even before he’d walked out on his family, nearly half a lifetime before. ‘Let’s change the subject, hmm?’
‘Good idea.’ She looked relieved. ‘Um…what sort of dress code are we talking about?’
He shrugged. ‘Whatever you want. I should warn you now, it’s not a posh hotel. It might’ve been, once. But now it’s…’ He stopped, trying to think of a nice way to put it.
‘Shabby genteel?’ she suggested.
‘Pretty much.’
‘And you’re going to turn it around. Restore it to its former glory.’
‘If all the figures stack up and my gut feeling tells me to go for it—yes, that’s the idea.’ And he needed to get out of here. Before he did something utterly stupid. Like swivelling his chair round, taking Sara’s hands and pulling her off balance so she landed in his lap and he could kiss her until they were both dizzy. He glanced at his watch. ‘Right. I have a meeting. I’d better go.’
‘There isn’t a meeting in your diary.’
Well, of course she’d know his schedule. She was acting as his PA. ‘I forgot to put it in,’ he fibbed. ‘I’m going to see the temp agency. Interview a few potentials.’ And that was exactly what he was going to do. Even though they weren’t expecting him. Because right now he needed to put space between himself and Sara. For both their sakes.
Sara forced herself to concentrate on the task in hand when Luke had gone. Strange how the office felt empty without him.
And she still felt guilty. Not about the banter—she was pretty sure he enjoyed it just as much as she did, and she knew that he’d come up with a dozen valid reasons why working overtime was good for you, to counter her arguments—but about the fact she’d inadvertently hurt him. There had definitely been a flash of pain in his eyes when she’d mentioned his mother and he’d told her he didn’t have one. It was a fair bet that the rest of the men in his family were the sort who’d bury themselves in work rather than discuss their feelings, and Luke himself had admitted that he dated a different girl every couple of weeks. So he probably didn’t allow himself to get close to anyone in case he lost her, the way he’d lost his mother.
A man alone.
It made her want to put her arms round him, give him a hug and tell him that everything would be fine.
Not that she had any intention of doing that. Because she knew it wouldn’t stop at a hug. Several times in the last week she’d looked up and met Luke’s gaze; he’d quickly masked his expression, but not before she’d been aware of the flare of heat. Desire. Interest.
Exactly the same way she felt. And, the more time she spent with him, the stronger those feelings became.
Perhaps she should’ve refused to go to Scarborough. They’d be stuck in a car together for a long journey. They’d spend the whole weekend in each other’s company. And, even though it was business, it would be all too easy for it to slide into something else.
Uh. Slide. Bad analogy. Because now she had other pictures in her head. X-rated ones.
She dragged in a breath. ‘Don’t be so stupid. You’ve already been there, done that and got your heart broken,’ she told herself loudly. ‘Remember Hugh? He was just as much of a workaholic as Luke is. It didn’t work then and it won’t work now.’
Though Hugh’s mouth hadn’t had such a sensual curve as Luke’s.
And whereas she’d eventually been able to wipe Hugh’s kisses from her memory, she had a feeling that she wouldn’t be able to do the same with Luke’s. She’d get hurt. Badly.
She’d just better hope that he managed to find a PA to cover for Di, and she could finish this job before the temptation got too much for her.
CHAPTER THREE
SARA had managed to compose herself by the time Luke returned—literally five minutes before she was about to leave. ‘Any luck?’ she asked.
‘No. Clearly it’s not my week for finding new staff. So if I can ask you to stay just a little longer?’
‘Yes,’ she said, before her common sense had a chance to stop her.
‘Good.’ He sat on the edge of his desk. ‘Sara, I bulldozed you a bit about Scarborough.’
‘A bit?’ She arched an eyebrow.
‘OK, a lot,’ he admitted. ‘And I know it isn’t fair, giving you such short notice to rearrange your weekend. So don’t feel you have to do it.’
‘It’s all right. I wasn’t doing anything in particular,’ she said. ‘I had vague plans to go to the cinema with friends, but nothing definite.’ Nothing that couldn’t be changed. ‘Besides, it’d be nice to get out of London and go to the seaside.’
‘We’re going to Scarborough to work,’ he reminded her.
She smiled. ‘Maximum eight hours a day. Which means we’ll have time to smell the roses—well, the sea air, anyway.’
He didn’t take the bait. ‘As long as you’re sure it’s not a problem.’
‘It’s not. But I do insist on having a paddle in the sea. And one of those whippy ice creams with a chocolate flake stuck in it.’
He shrugged. ‘Do what you like in your lunch break.’
‘So you’re too chicken to paddle?’ she teased.
‘Too busy,’ he retorted.
‘A five-minute paddle isn’t going to take much out of your day. And the break will do you good.’
‘Refilling the well?’ There was a slight edge to his voice.
‘Good. The man’s learning,’ she said, resisting the urge to walk over to him and ruffle his hair. Touching would be a bad idea. She might not be able to stop at ruffling his hair. And she needed to be professional with him. She wasn’t looking for a relationship right now; even if she had been, Luke wasn’t the man for her. He kept too many barriers round himself. She wanted someone less complicated. ‘Right. I emailed your messages to you as they came in, there’s a report on your desk next to a pile of letters that need signing—and I’ll see you tomorrow.’
‘OK. And, Sara?’
She paused by the door.
