Irresistibly Exotic Men. Laura Iding

tightly. “When there’s a sense of danger, the body’s response is to procreate.”

      “Really.”

      Beth shrugged. “Hey, it’s physiology.”

      Luke studied her intently, but she just stood there, a firm smile on those lips he’d been devouring not twenty seconds ago. Hell, he ached for her like he’d been celibate for five years and not just three months. So it had to be something.

      He ran a hand through his hair, wishing it were hers.

      “So, no more kissing,” he said.

      “Right.” Beth nodded.

      “Yes.”

      “Mmm.”

      Luke watched her gather up the oils and refold the table as if she were performing groundbreaking brain surgery. She wasn’t bothering to deny their attraction anymore and that should’ve pleased him. But it didn’t. Far from it.

      He might have been fooled into thinking she delivered mind-numbing kisses often, ones that chewed up a guy’s insides and sent his heart racing. Until he caught a vague look of disappointment as she turned away. Sure, she could rationalize it all she wanted, but Luke knew the truth.

      He wanted her. And she wanted him right back.

      Beth Jones was unlike anyone he’d ever met. She didn’t disguise the fact that she wanted him out of her life. Yet she was physically attracted, an attraction they both sensed every time he got within arm’s length. When every other woman would have told him loud and clear how they felt, she hid it behind a biology lesson. Her blatant denial intrigued him.

      Yeah, but you’ve gotta think with your head, Luke. Your career is everything, always has been. And that’s the way you like it. Face it—you’re a disaster when it comes to relationships.

      And he didn’t want to hurt Beth.

      “I’m going to take a shower,” Luke finally said.

      She remained silent until he raised one questioning eyebrow.

      “Towels are in the cupboard above the sink.”

      He took the stairs two at a time and Beth managed to keep her composure. But when he disappeared into the bathroom, she collapsed into the couch with a mutter of dismay.

      His skin, the play of his muscles beneath her fingers, had been better than she imagined. A scar in the shape of a circular constellation marred the perfection, along with another silver slash of puckered skin low on his waist. She’d bitten her lip to stop from leaning down and gently kissing away the massage oil.

      Beth heard the shower turn on … and an image swam into her mind of Luke naked, water running over his chest, abdomen …

      Stop it. Stop it now.

      With a grievous sigh, she stood and headed off to the kitchen, unsure and unsettled.

      Much later that night, after she’d eaten a quick chicken sandwich alone in the kitchen, Beth ran herself a bath and sank into the warm bubbles with a relieved groan.

      Behind her head, scented candles flickered on a small shelf, their reflection bouncing from the huge, gold-edged mirror opposite and ending in a subtle play of light on the water’s surface.

      The bathroom was her thinking space and she loved it best of all—from the high whitewashed ceiling, the Grecian tiles framing the doorway, the hanging green plants, to the skylight that showed off a clear starry night.

      It should have been a haven tonight. But escape was impossible. The house was still and quiet, but an underlying anticipation hung in the air, as if it was waiting to see what changes the newcomer would bring.

      Luke dwarfed her spare room, just as he was dwarfing her life, helping himself to a part of it as if she was an amicable participant. She took a deep breath, her lungs filling with steam and scent, and exhaled in a rush.

      Luke had to know how out of place he was here, how much he disrupted her sense of order. She’d told him straight what she wanted. Now she had to persuade. She’d show him she belonged here, that her stamp was firmly on this place, in every book, every cup, every comfy cushion. It was her task to convince him, so when he went back to work, he’d soon forget whatever attraction this place held and take her up on her offer.

      Peace and sanity would return. Even if it meant working long hours for the next twenty years to pay him off, she’d do it.

      Yet why did that give her such an unsatisfied feeling in the pit of her stomach? The cooling water washed over her breasts as she shifted in the tub. She shivered and quickly stood, then slowly stepped out.

      She had to do this. Getting hysterical or wishing the situation could be different wouldn’t change anything. At her mother’s funeral she’d made a solemn eighteen-year-old vow: never give in to the dark well of depression and self-doubt her mother had suffered, thanks in part to her father’s infidelities and mind games.

      Well, she wasn’t going to crumble, Beth decided as she padded into her bedroom. She stood strong and fought for what she wanted.

      It was just a matter of waiting it out.

      After she put on her pajamas and lay staring at the ceiling for ages, exhaustion that came with thinking too much finally claimed her.

       Eight

      “Hey, Beth, can I catch a lift with you this morning?”

      Her store assistant, Laura, sounded flustered. Beth balanced the phone at her ear as she smeared peanut butter on her toast. “Car troubles again? Have you called the mechanic?”

      “Yeah. They won’t be here until after ten.”

      Beth watched Luke walk silently into the kitchen, clad in a pair of jeans and a black T-shirt. Memories of yesterday’s kiss came flooding back and with it, heat to parts of her body she didn’t want to think of him touching.

      “No problem. See you soon.” She hung up and poured a glass of juice. “Morning.”

      “Morning.” His all-seeing eyes swept over her, sending her pulse rocketing. “Sleep well?”

      “Yeah,” she lied. “You?”

      “Like a log for once. And I don’t have that nagging ache here.” He cupped the back of his neck.

      “I told you it’d work. Now all you need is a couple more days’ rest and you’ll be as good as new.”

      Luke helped himself to coffee, looking much too at-home as he leaned against her counter.

      “Going to work?” He nodded, taking in her business shirt, short skirt and flat sandals.

      “Yep.”

      “Is that wise?”

      A hell of a lot wiser than being cooped up here with you, no buffer zone in sight. “I have paying clients. And anyway, you can relax better without me around.”

      Luke looked dissatisfied with her reasoning. “You got something I can do around here?”

      “No.”

      “What about that?” He nodded in the direction of the pantry, where the door was off its hinges and resting against the stove.

      “It needs sanding then the hinges need to be realigned. I can do it.”

      “So can I.”

      “I’d rather you not—”

      “Don’t make me pull rank on you, Beth.” His words were soft but his eyes firm. “I own the place, remember?”

      Beth felt her face flush, but shrugged as if it didn’t matter. “Fine.