11
SHARI DECIDED TObe perfectly grown-up and professional about the fact that Luke’s desk was in his bedroom. She’d simply ignore the bed and see only the office part of the room. She really wanted a peek at the novel after hearing him talk about it. She was curious. Was it anygood?
Her skirt felt as heavy as armor as they walked through the doorway. Of course, as in most bedrooms, his bed dominated the room. The duvet was navy-and-black plaid. Kind of Ralph-Lauren-meets-hunter’s-sleeping-bag lining—very masculine. The pillow cases, and presumably the sheets, were also navy, but she got the feeling he hadn’t tried to match them, it was more that he liked thecolor.
The bed and an old oak highboy were pushed off-center to make room for his office, such as it was—a black computer desk, a floor-to-ceiling bookcase and a file cabinet, all scrupulously neat. He was a lot tidier thanshe.
While she inspected his room, noting he had a lot of her favorite authors in his bookcase as well as reference books, grammar primers and dictionaries, he booted up his computer and called up the file of his novel. She glanced at the page total. “Wow. Three hundredpages.”
“It’s only a rough draft,”he explained, his diffident side showingagain.
She smiled at the back of his head, and noticed that his dark brown hair was starting to curl over his collar. He needed a haircut, but she sort of liked his unkempt style. It suitedhim.
“Here you go,” he said. “It’s just this scene.” He stood and offered her theseat.
She took the computer chair and began toread.
Jenkins lit a cigarette from the butt of the one burning his fingers. He noted with casual contempt that both hands shook, hampering the simple procedure. Claire sat, still and composed, hands clasped on top of her prescription pad. He’d have to remind her to order him more sleepingpills.
“Say something, dammit. I asked you to marry me. If it’s no, say so. Let’s get it overwith.”
She stared at him, as cool and untouchable as the Madonnas in the cathedrals his ma dragged him to when he was akid.
“It’s no.” He didn’t have to remind her about the pills. She stared at him until he wanted to break something, then quietly wrote the prescription. Unlike all the other shrinks who’d treated him, she didn’t scrawl illegible symbols on the pad, but took her time, writing in flowing cursive the full name of the drug and the amount of oblivion he couldhave.
When she held it out to him he tried to snatch it from her, but she stopped him, laying a hand against his cheek. “I’msorry.”
The funny thing was that, at the time, he believedher.
Shari continued reading, amazed at how quickly Luke’s story pulled her in, even though the scene was from somewhere in the middle of the book. She read rapidly, immediately caught up in the dilemma of the troubled cop and hispsychiatrist.
She was vaguely aware of Luke pacing behindher.
She read about ten pages before Luke’s hand settled atop hers, stopping her. She glanced up to where he stood over her. “That’s it? That’s all I canread?”
“Yeah. It’s the part that’s bothering me. What do youthink?”
“I want to read more. This is only enough to teaseme.”
“But is that how a woman would react? How, say, you wouldreact?”
“If a man asked me to marry him, I hope I wouldn’t be as cold. But since I don’t know the rest of the story, it’s hard to understand hermotivation.”
She went back and read the opening of the scene again, slowly, seeing hints she’d missed on the first read. “This isn’t about her. It’s all about him. Maybe that’s why she’s turned him down. Look at the way he describes her. He’s not looking for a lover, he sees her as a maternal figure. He likens her to the Madonnas his mother took him to see. With the psychiatrist’s desk and prescription pad, she represents authority. And what’s he doing? Chain-smoking. He knows damn well you can’t smoke in a hospital. He’s being a naughty boy, pushing her away even as he needsher.”
“A mother figure?” Luke asked inamazement.
“Well, that’s the way I’m reading it. And I’m guessing she sees through him, too. Does she love him?” She shrugged. “Maybe. I haven’t read enough. But I’m guessing he needs to love her as a man loves a woman, not as a child loves his mother or as a patient looks up to his shrink.” She sent him a half smile. “He’s a fascinating guy, Luke. Are you sure I can’t read somemore?”
He was smiling at her, white teeth gleaming, the cleft in his chin shadowed. “And you’re a fascinating woman.” Even as she opened her mouth to reply, he leaned forward, slipped a hand behind her head and covered her mouth withhis.
A breathy murmur broke from her as she tried to remember why this was a bad idea. The feel of Luke’s lips teasing hers, warm and sure, broke her concentration. Her mind might have some vague ideas about saying no, but her entire body was screaming,yes.
He swiveled the chair until her knees bumped his, then deepened the kiss. She threw her arms around his neck, pulling him against her. Whatever his other shortcomings, the man could surely kiss. In fact, the man tonight was totally unlike the man she knew. Except, of course, for the odd glimpse of vulnerability that reminded her he was there—like a homely undershirt peeking out from the neck of a designer shirt. He was Luke, the unsure man who fainted at the sight of her nakedness, and he was Luke, the man whose kisses made putty of her knees. She tried to pull him closer still until the chair gave a warningsqueak.
He pulled back,green eyes so intent she shivered. Then he dipped and, putting a hand under her knees and another behind her shoulders, lifted her as though she weighednothing.
She giggled with surprise and delight before the giggle changed to a whimper as he laid her on his bed. Now it was her turn to beuncertain.