Modern Romance May 2016 Books 1-4. Julia James

don’t think I’m trying to use our past—association—to influence you in your decision about—about the development.’

      ‘Oh, please.’ He held up a hand. ‘You couldn’t.’ He paused. ‘And I’d rather not be reminded that I was almost responsible for you cheating on your husband. Or maybe that wasn’t the first time.’

      Abby was furious. ‘If you remember, it wasn’t me who started it. You were on the lookout for a casual hook-up and I was there.’

      ‘That’s not true!’

      ‘Isn’t it?’ Her lips twisted. ‘I bet you thought you were onto a good thing.’

      ‘Well, I got that wrong, didn’t I?’ he snarled, and she shook her head disbelievingly.

      ‘I can’t believe you said that,’ she exclaimed. ‘How could I ever have been attracted to you?’

      ‘Abby...’

      To his frustration, the retriever chose that moment to wind itself about his legs, throwing him off balance. Without thinking, he tried to save himself by clutching her shoulder, and Abby’s arm curled automatically about his waist.

      The atmosphere was suddenly charged with tension. Luke was overwhelmingly conscious of Abby’s warm body close against his own. It was not a situation he’d engineered, but now that it had happened, he was unwillingly—and undeniably—aroused.

      Stifling a groan of anguish, he grabbed the leash and set himself free. ‘I think I should go.’

      ‘Yes, I think you should,’ she said tightly. ‘But don’t leave on my account. I’m going back to Harley’s myself.’

      For a moment, his mind was too caught up with other things. Primarily what he’d like to do to her body. Then he realised what she’d meant. ‘Oh, the café?’ he said flatly, and she nodded.

      Then, almost against her better judgement, she said, ‘Please don’t penalise any of the other tenants because of me.’

      ‘I don’t see how I could do that.’

      ‘Oh, don’t underestimate yourself, Luke.’ Abby spoke bitterly. ‘This isn’t an easy situation for any of us.’

      ‘I’m sorry.’

      ‘Are you?’ She didn’t sound as if she believed him. ‘Well, if you’ll excuse me...’

      Luke groaned. ‘What do you expect from me, Abby? Absolution?’

      ‘You’re joking!’ She held up her head. ‘I expect nothing from you, Luke. I never did.’

      Luke’s jaw hardened. ‘That wasn’t my impression. But, perhaps, I was wrong. I was wrong about so much else about you, wasn’t I?’

      ‘You arrogant bastard!’

      Abby grasped Harley’s leash in both hands and backed away from him. Her features were pale now and taut with outrage, and Luke knew a feeling of grim frustration. He hadn’t intended to hurt her, but he evidently had, and, unable to do anything else, he went after her.

      ‘Abby...’

      ‘Stay away from me!’

      ‘I don’t want to fight with you.’ He sounded as if he regretted what he’d said, and he didn’t like it.

      ‘Don’t you?’ he thought she muttered as she turned away from him and started back towards the road. ‘Well, don’t worry,’ she called back over her shoulder. ‘I’ll pretend this conversation never happened. Just get your solicitor to let me know when you want the café vacating, and I’ll be out of there.’

      With a feeling of defeat, Luke strode after her, grasping her arm and swinging her round to face him. There were tears staining her cheeks, he saw at once, and, unable to prevent himself, he lifted a hand and used his thumb to brush them away.

      ‘Don’t,’ she whispered, but he wasn’t listening to her. His mind was filled with images of the hot, steamy sex they might have shared if things had been different, and it was difficult to remember exactly why he shouldn’t be touching her.

      Her cheek was so soft beneath his fingers, and he allowed his hand to move lower until his thumb was stroking the parted contours of her mouth.

      She didn’t try to stop him. She was still gripping the retriever’s leash like a lifeline, but Luke was intoxicated by her scent. Unable to prevent himself, he bent towards her and covered her lips with his.

      Her mouth was hot and unexpectedly vulnerable, and all the emotions she’d aroused in him five years ago came flooding back.

      He knew instantly why he hadn’t forgotten her, why he could remember so well her taste and her smell. And the sensual pressure of her hips against his erection made sanity desert him.

      ‘Luke...’

      His name was barely audible. Her breath hitched, and her hand curling around his neck was so cold it burned him. Or perhaps it was his skin that was burning up with the sudden intensity of his desire.

      One thing was certain: he couldn’t let this go on. He knew that this stretch of open ground, despite supporting a few trees, was hardly private. And, unfortunately, they were not hidden by any of those trees.

      Apart from which, what in God’s name did he think he was doing?

      And then Harley barked, bringing an abrupt end to his uncertainty.

      Maybe the retriever had seen a cat or a rabbit. He’d started tugging on his leash, and Abby was forced to take an involuntary step away from Luke.

      ‘Harley,’ she exclaimed, and Luke expelled a hoarse breath.

      Dammit, he’d never thought he’d be grateful to a dog, but he was.

      ‘I’ve got to go,’ he said roughly as Abby endeavoured to calm the animal down.

      And without giving her time to say anything else, he strode away.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      A WEEK LATER, Abby had succeeded in putting what she preferred to call ‘Luke’s uncalled-for assault’ out of her mind.

      It had been an aberration, nothing more. On his part, and probably on hers, as well. For God’s sake, she’d thought she’d got what had happened five years ago into perspective. She was a free, independent woman these days; not the pathetic abused wife she used to be.

      It was late afternoon, and Lori had already gone to collect her daughter from school, and, as there were no customers, Abby decided to close up a little earlier than usual.

      It had been a dank afternoon, and frankly few people had been about. When the door opened, she thought her assistant must have forgotten something and had come back to collect it. But, instead, it was Greg Hughes.

      Her heart sank. She so wasn’t in the mood to talk to the photographer and, not for the first time, she wished she didn’t live over the café and could say she was on her way home.

      She’d just finished cleaning the coffee machine when he strolled over with a proprietorial air to rest his elbows on the polished counter.

      ‘You heard anything yet?’ he asked rudely, without offering a greeting, and Abby turned from her task to give him a cool stare.

      ‘I beg your pardon?’

      ‘I said...’

      ‘Yes, I heard what you said.’ Abby regarded him with cold inquiry. ‘I just don’t know what you’re talking about.’

      Greg scowled. ‘The development,’ he said impatiently. ‘Have you heard any more about the development?’ He paused. ‘I assume you’ve read your letter by now.’

      ‘Oh.’