Modern Romance May 2016 Books 1-4. Julia James

let me do something to show you I’m not the selfish bastard you evidently think I am.’

      ‘You think buying me a steak will do that?’ Abby was incredulous.

      ‘No. But it might go some way to showing you I regret the way I behaved.’

      Abby’s lips twisted. ‘And, of course, this has nothing to do with the petition, which you’ve obviously heard about? Are you sure you’re not just here on a fact-finding mission again?’

      Luke scowled. ‘Dammit, my invitation has nothing to do with Hughes’ petition.’

      ‘No?’

      ‘No.’ He stared into her disbelieving eyes, aware that what he really wanted to do was to touch her. ‘I’d like the chance to talk to you without Harley, or one of your customers, interrupting us.’

       CHAPTER EIGHT

      ABBY HESITATED.

      She knew she ought to refuse—that she should refuse—but she defended her right to change her mind.

      Taking a breath, she said, ‘What do you want to talk about?’ Her lips twisted. ‘We could have talked the other morning, but you couldn’t wait to get out of here.’

      ‘Would you have wanted your neighbours to see me leaving before you opened the café, and come to the obvious conclusion?’ he demanded tersely.

      Abby gave a disbelieving laugh. ‘You’re not telling me you left here in the middle of the night to protect my reputation?’

      He had the decency to colour. ‘Not exactly.’

      ‘Not at all,’ she corrected him scornfully. ‘I’m amazed you had the nerve to come back.’

      ‘Which should tell you something about my character,’ he retorted. ‘Come on, Abby. Give me a break.’

      ‘I’m not ready,’ she said, buying time to think about the craziness of accepting his invitation. ‘And you’ve got wet marks on your trousers.’

      ‘I’ll dry,’ said Luke easily. ‘And you look pretty good to me.’

      Abby gave him a conservative look. ‘Yeah, right.’

      ‘I mean it.’ His eyes darkened. ‘You can’t have any doubts that I’m sincere after we slept together.’

      Abby hesitated. ‘I’m not going to sleep with you again.’

      ‘Okay.’ She suspected Luke would have agreed to anything in this mood. ‘Will you come for dinner with me?’

      ‘I need a shower,’ she said, half hoping he would lose patience and leave.

      ‘Have it later,’ Luke advised flatly, tucking his cold hands under his arms. ‘It’s raining, as you know.’ He paused. ‘Humour me, Abby. You’re going to get wet, anyway.’

      Abby could have argued some more, but her heart wasn’t really in it. Where was the harm? she asked herself. She was a grown woman, not a child. Didn’t he owe her something for the way he’d behaved?

      Or was she only making excuses to spend more time with a man she knew she should despise?

      ‘Okay,’ she said at last, heading towards her bedroom. ‘I won’t be a minute. I just want to tidy my hair.’

      But she closed the door securely, letting him hear the latch click into place, before going into the bathroom. No matter how she tried to justify what she was doing, she couldn’t deny the fear that if he followed her, they’d end up in bed again.

      Fool!

      Downstairs, with Harley not-so-happily secured in the living room of the apartment, Abby suddenly remembered that Luke hadn’t been alone. She knew she hadn’t mistaken the way he’d spoken to someone in the car as he was getting out.

      ‘Wait,’ she said, touching his sleeve as he was opening the outer door. ‘You’ve not come on your own, have you? And if it’s one of your girlfriends—’

      ‘I don’t have girlfriends,’ muttered Luke irritably, shaking off her hand. ‘Come and meet Felix.’ He opened the door and to her surprise Abby found the Bentley waiting outside, apparently indifferent to the ‘No Parking’ signs.

      As they approached the driver’s side door opened and a man got out. He was older than Luke, but not by a lot; thin and balding, with a likeable face, he was dressed all in black.

      He grinned when he saw them and came round to open the rear door. ‘Good evening, miss,’ he said politely, evidently waiting for her to get inside. ‘Crappy evening, isn’t it?’

      Abby’s lips parted in surprise, and Luke grinned, too. ‘Don’t mind Felix,’ he said humorously. ‘He forgets he’s in service.’

      Abby shook her head. ‘He works for you?’

      ‘Sure does,’ said Luke, following her into the back of the vehicle. ‘Meet Felix Laidlaw, chauffeur, butler, and even cook on occasion. Isn’t that right, Felix?’

      ‘If you say so.’ Felix’s tone was non-committal. ‘But don’t take what he says too seriously, miss. Luke and I go way back. And we were in the services in those days. The real services, isn’t that right, Luke?’

      If Abby hadn’t been looking at him at that moment, she’d have missed Luke’s grimace. But with the door still open, the interior light was on in the car. And she noticed the way Luke’s brows drew together, as if warning Felix not to go on.

      But he did.

      ‘Saved my life, he did. In Afghanistan. Must be over ten years ago now, right, Luke?’

      Luke’s frown had turned into a scowl. ‘Just drive,’ he said, slamming the car door and successfully hiding his expression. ‘The Bell, in Chitterford. I think you know it.’

      Evidently Felix wasn’t offended and he kept up a stream of small talk until they reached their destination.

      Actually, Abby was grateful. It removed any need for her to make conversation, and judging by the way Luke stared out of the car’s windows for the whole of the journey, he felt the same.

      The Bell turned out to be a small pub, whose restaurant had a big reputation. As soon as they stepped through the door they were assailed by the most delicious smell of food. And although Abby had been sure she had no appetite, the dishes on offer were too tantalising to refuse.

      The chauffeur wasn’t with them, of course. Luke had said he would give the man a ring when they were ready to leave, and Felix had appeared happy with that arrangement.

      They were shown to a table for two. The crisp white tablecloth and the bud vase of roses were complemented by a lamp with a rose-coloured shade.

      ‘This is lovely,’ said Abby, glancing about her. Anything to avoid looking into Luke’s eyes. ‘Have you been here before?’

      ‘No, but my father has,’ replied Luke as a waitress came to ask if they would like a drink before their meal. Then, apparently remembering her liking for white wine, he ordered a glass of chardonnay for her and a beer for himself.

      The waitress departed and Abby nodded. ‘Of course. You said your father lives in Bath,’ she continued, hoping to keep the conversation light. ‘It seems very nice.’

      ‘So do you,’ said Luke in a dangerously bland tone, bringing an immediate flush of heat to her cheeks.

      ‘You don’t have to say that,’ she said shortly, annoyed with herself for allowing anything he said to disconcert her. Then, determinedly, ‘Tell me about Felix.’

      ‘What do you want to know?’

      Abby gave him an enquiring look. ‘Oh, I don’t