Slow Burn. Cherry Adair
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Offhand, he could think of several very good reasons why it would be a bad idea.
The promise to his dad.
The promise to Cat.
The promise to himself.
His—thus far contained—all-consuming lust.
On an “official date” he’d feel as though there was a chance of having more. And the reality was that this was Cat’s time to shine. To get what she wanted. To get what she deserved.
She’d spent years cloistered in that big old house taking care of his father. Without complaint, without a murmur as life passed her by. She deserved every good thing there was.
A promise was a promise. It wasn’t in him to renege, and he’d rather jump off a cliff than hurt her. Yeah, Luke decided, feeling sanctimonious, the least he could do was keep a low profile, and give Cat what she wanted.
* * *
VAN BUREN AND Stratton owned an immaculately restored 1860s Italianate Victorian on the Avenues. It not only housed their flourishing business, it was a shining example of their talent as architects and restoration specialists. Every inch had been lovingly restored, then intricately painted.
There were memories for Catherine in every room of this house. There was a photograph of the three of them in Luke’s office the day they’d opened their doors for business. She was proud that it was thanks to her skills as a day trader that Nick and Luke had been able to afford the house when they’d gone into business five years ago. She’d just begun day trading, and despite her show of confidence, wasn’t sure at all whether she could make it in that volatile roller-coaster world. But she’d flourished. By trading with the trends, she’d made steady profits, never making a huge killing but never getting wiped out, either, like other traders she knew.
She and Nick sat in the beautifully appointed reception area, which had originally been the ladies’ parlor. She’d gone with Luke to buy the faded Aubusson area rug. She’d been with Nick when he’d found the camelback sofa in an out-of-the-way antique store.
“What I want,” Catherine told Nick, “is for Luke to give some indication he sees me as more than someone making his socks magically disappear.”
“Unless my friend has cataracts, I can’t see how he can miss the obvious,” Nick assured her, head down as he searched for something in the receptionist’s antique cherrywood desk.
Catherine had decided to drop in on Luke to see if he’d take her to lunch before she went shopping. He’d been out. But Nick had assured her he wouldn’t be long.
A perfect opportunity for a little strategizing.
Nick dumped a pile of file folders on Christy’s desk. Catherine winced. “What are you looking for?”
“The Stockton bids.”
“It’s in the file room in the blue file cabinet.”
Nick glanced up. “It is? How’d you know that?”
“Because all bids go in the file room in the blue file cabinet. Nick? Could you stop scrounging around for a sec?”
Catherine tucked one foot under her and eased back on the stiff horsehair sofa, spread her soft skirt over her knees and picked up the cup and saucer from the table beside her. She’d acquired a slight tan at the beach a couple of days before, and the scoop-necked, butter-colored linen dress showed it off to advantage. The linen jacket hung neatly over a nearby tapestry chair. She cradled the saucer.
“In the last three weeks Luke’s interrogated every single guy I’ve gone out with as if he’s Don Corleone,” she told Nick, exasperated. “He’s still acting like my brother. I want him to see me as a sexy, desirable female, not his kid sister. I don’t know how to make him see me as an adult woman.”
“You look all-woman to me, Catherine. Trust me,” Nick said dryly. “There wasn’t a guy at the party who didn’t sit up and take notice.”
Catherine shot a wary glance at the etched glass panels in the oak front door before turning back to Nick. “I don’t care about other men, Nick. I want Luke to love me.”
Nick gave her a searching look, then said softly and with regret, “Will that really be enough for you, Catherine? Having him return your love? Luke’s a great guy, but we both know he’s got some serious hang-ups about commitment. Those fixed ideas he has about tying up his emotions too tightly. Can you accept that he’ll never marry you?”
“Having him reciprocate what I feel will be enough.”
“For how long?”
She looked him dead in the eye. “For as long as it lasts.”
“Really?” Nick asked skeptically. “Then why did you ask him to find you a husband?”
“To throw him off the scent. Don’t look at me like that. It’s a given that marrying Luke would be a dream come true. But I know that will never happen. I know him, remember? I’m a lot more realistic than you give me credit for.”
“Why do you love him, Catherine?” Nick asked. “Because you’ve known him almost your whole life? Because he represents security to you? Because you’re alone now that your dad’s gone?”
“No...maybe. Possibly that’s part of it. A small part,” she added quickly. “I love Luke because he’s honest, and strong and ethical. Because he’s got a sense of humor I understand. I love him because when I’m with him I’m...a better me. Does that make sense?”
“Yeah,” Nick said with a smile. “It makes perfect sense. Okay, gorgeous, you have a master tactician at your disposal.” He grinned, looking charmingly rakish. “Between us, he doesn’t stand a chance.”
“I want him, but not at the risk of destroying what we have now. You understand that, don’t you?”
“Luke’s right.” Nick smiled. “You are a little crab. You’ve got to keep advancing here, Catherine. No retreating allowed.”
“You’re sure, positive, no doubt about it, I have a chance?” Catherine hated her own insecurity. She fought it every day, but sometimes that feeling of abandonment would creep up on her unexpectedly and she’d find herself poised for flight. “If you’re sure I’m not making a total fool of myself...”
Nick came to sit next to her on the sofa and took both her cold hands between his. “You want Luke to see you as a woman, right? Then you have to make him stop seeing you as The Kid.”
Like she hadn’t been trying for the last decade. “And how do I go about doing that?”
Nick’s blue eyes lit up devilishly as he released one hand to brush her mouth with his finger. “You dare Luke to teach you the art of seduction.”
Catherine, in the process of lifting the delicate china cup to her mouth, almost choked. Her eyes went wide. “You’re kidding, right?”
“Nope. Luke knows you don’t have vast experience.