shot up as if someone had lit a firecracker in his back pocket. He grabbed her upper arm and pushed her back down. “That’s it. You’re useless to me now. I’ll never get a lick of work out of you if you keep toppling over and I have to stop what I’m doing to hold you up. You’re going home.”
* * *
THERE WERE EXACTLY twenty-six paces from one wall in his condo to the other. Luke knew. He’d counted them off about nine zillion times. He strode across the living room to glare at the clock near the TV. It was after 1:00 a.m. He’d about worn a path in the carpet. Where in the hell were they?
He cursed taking the Harley to the beach house. With Cat asphyxiated by the damn glue, he’d been afraid she’d fall off the bike coming home. But he hadn’t wanted her to go in Nick’s brand-spanking-new Beemer, either. Luke did the nine paces from the wall unit to the window like a one-minute mile.
The vertical blinds clattered against the wall as he peered down into the dark street. Unless Cat and Nick were the couple blatantly boinking under the streetlamp on the lawn in the park across the street, they still weren’t back. And if they were, he’d kill Nick.
He yanked the cell phone out of his back pocket and punched redial. It rang. And rang. If they were hiding down on the nineteenth floor, at Nick’s place, his business partner–ex-best friend was dead meat. Luke slammed the phone off and into his pocket midring. He didn’t bother with the elevator, he simply jogged the three floors down, then three floors up again.
Irritated that he was so damn irritated, out of breath and out of ideas, Luke threw himself into his favorite chair. The black leather smelled like her and annoyed him even more. He glared at the open front door, willing Cat to walk in before his murder plans were fully hatched.
* * *
“ARE YOU SURE we know what you’re doing, Nicolas Stratton?” Catherine yawned, barely awake, and rested her head on the padded headrest of Nick’s car, her eyes closed. They’d been parked near Fisherman’s Wharf, a good two miles from the condo, for an hour and a half.
“You want Luke to see you as a desirable woman, don’t you?”
“It’s what I’ve spent the last six hours telling you,” she grumbled, rolling her head his way. Catherine opened her eyes. “I want him to see who I am, but I’m scared. What if this doesn’t work? God, I couldn’t bear losing the relationship we do have.”
“Honey, I think you’ve only thought through part of this plan. Be brave, be daring, be bold. Moving in with him was a smart idea. But what’ll really do it is if he has the opportunity to see you through the eyes of someone else. I volunteered. Don’t worry, gorgeous, I have the plan well in hand. And my plans always work.”
“Yeah,” Catherine said, “except when they don’t. And Nick? I want you to promise on a stack of Bibles that you’ll never tell him how I feel. This has got to be Luke’s idea. He has to make the first move.”
“This is woman’s logic, right? Chase him until he catches you?”
“Basically. Just promise you won’t tell. Never. Do you swear?”
“Constantly.”
“Nick!”
He crossed his chest in the vicinity of his heart. “I swear I’ll never tell Luke how you feel about him.”
“Say that so I can believe it. Because I swear to you, Nicolas Stratton, if Luke gets a hint that he’s the one I’m trying to catch before I’m ready to tell him, I’ll...I’ll tell him about you and Babsie.”
“That was in twelfth grade.”
“Want to bet he won’t still be mad?”
“I give you my word,” he said with utmost sincerity.
“Good enough.” She squinted at the dash clock. “He’s probably sleeping, and we’re sitting here like idiots in the dead of night, freezing in the car.”
“We could’ve gone for coffee.”
“Nick, you’re a lunatic, and I adore you. But if I drink one more cup of anything, I’ll float away. Please, can I go home now?”
* * *
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?” Catherine cried as Nick picked her up in his arms. The elevator pinged as it stopped on the twenty-second floor. “Nick, you’re going to give yourself a hernia carrying me.” The doors slid open. He staggered playfully as he strode down the corridor leading to Luke’s condo.
“Put your head on my shoulder, your arms around my neck and close your eyes,” Nick said softly. “I’m going to give you the opportunity to be a fly on the wall. Hmm, interesting. The front door’s wide open.”
Catherine looped her arms about his neck and snuggled against Nick’s chest. A nice chest. Unfortunately, not Luke’s chest.
“Where’ve you been?”
Ooh. Luke’s dragon roar. Catherine kept her eyes closed, her features lax. She imagined flames spewing from his nostrils. This was a good sign. Nick’s plan might just work.
“Hey, old son,” Nick whispered. “Princess here is sleeping. Lower your tone to a dull bellow, why don’tcha?”
“Why is Cat sleeping?” Luke demanded, with deep suspicion. She could feel the blistering heat of his gaze focused on her.
“You said you wanted to introduce her to some of our...well, let’s just say we did a little par-tay-ing.”
“I told you to bring her straight home.”
“We came straight back.”
“Via Hong Kong?”
“We stopped for a bite to eat. Then she wanted a look at my boat.”
“For six hours?”
“Gorgeous day for a sail. Look, she’s kinda heavy,” Nick said over her head. “Mind if I...oh okay, fine, if you want to stand there bitching at me while you get the hernia, that’s cool.”
Luke’s arms tightened around her. Bliss. Catherine’s head found the natural and perfect hollow beneath his chin. As long as he didn’t get that promised hernia, she was content to lie in his arms and enjoy the moment.
“Poor Princess, she needed the break. The last few months have been tough on her.”
“She talked to you?” Catherine heard deep suspicion in Luke’s voice. His fingers tightened on her upper thigh. “Catherine Harris the clam, the little crab?”
“It’s not a state secret, is it?” Nick asked. “Hey, it’s great standing here at one-thirty in the morning, in your open doorway shooting the breeze, a comatose woman between us, but how about a drink?”
“I’m only holding her so I don’t rearrange that smarmy, pretty-boy face of yours,” Luke snarled. “Next time I tell you to bring her right home, you’d better bring her...no, forget it. You keep your grubby paws away from her.”
Don’t
