Her Tycoon Lover. Lee Wilkinson

much there.

      He shoved his thoughts away. This wasn’t the time for analysis. Reaching the car, he fumbled with the passenger door, and eased her onto the seat. Then he hurried around to his side, searching for the keys in his wet pocket. He’d get some heat in the car first.

      He got in and slammed his door. In the sudden silence, shielded from the onslaught of the storm, Luke looked at the woman in the seat beside him.

      In the few moments it had taken him to walk from one side of the car to the other, Katrin had retreated from him. Her bag was on her lap; she was hugging it to her chest as though to ward him off, her eyes wideheld in the gloom. At a loss, for this wasn’t what he’d expected, Luke said with a lightness that didn’t quite succeed, “It’s okay—I don’t bite.”

      “I must have been mad,” she cried. “It was the storm, and fighting the waves on the lake, and then getting into the bay and knowing I’d made it—”

      “Katrin,” he said evenly, “we want each other. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

      “There’s everything wrong with it!”

      “Look, before we get into a big discussion, I think you should get out of those wet clothes. Right now.”

      She gave him a hunted look. “Oh, no—I’m fine.”

      “I’ll close my eyes,” he said, exasperated. “Or I’ll wait outside the car with my back to you. For Pete’s sake, what do you think I am?”

      “I don’t know what you are. Who you are. How could I?”

      “You don’t trust me.”

      With an intensity that entranced him, she said, “I don’t trust myself! Surely that must be as obvious to you as it is to me.”

      Laughter welled in his chest. He fought it down; Katrin would not, right now, appreciate being laughed at. He turned on the ignition and the fan, to get some heat in the car, and said deliberately, “Is that why you lied to me? About your husband, Erik, and your two lovely children, Lara and Tomas, blond-haired and blue-eyed just like you? Because I have something to tell you—in Margret’s tearoom, your friend Anna informed me the children were hers…and then I met your uncle Erik on the wharf when I was looking for you half an hour ago. His shirt needing washing, his boots belonged in the garbage, and he was about to chew on a large lump of tobacco, no doubt using the lake as a spittoon. I must say I’m very glad he’s not your husband.”

      Katrin glowered at him, if anything clutching her bag even tighter. “I had to tell you something! You think I was about to admit to you that ever since that first evening in the dining room I’ve been dreaming about you every night? X-rated dreams. Not the kind I could tell Lara or Tomas.”

      His jaw dropped. “What?”

      “You heard what I said. I’m not going to repeat it.”

      Dazedly Luke said, “Is honesty your middle name?”

      “Stupidity, more like.”

      She looked as edgy as a wild creature, as though she’d bolt if he made the slightest wrong move. “That kind of honesty’s rare,” Luke said.

      Her grimace was endearing. “I never usually tell lies…it goes against the grain, so I’m very bad at it. I was amazed when you fell for all that stuff about my husband and my two kids. I figured you’d see through it right away.”

      “Maybe I’m the stupid one,” Luke said dryly. “How about making me a promise? No more lies.”

      “Promises are made between people who mean something to each other.”

      He looked her straight in the eye. “This particular promise has to do with your own integrity.”

      She was the first to look away. “Okay,” she said grudgingly.

      “Good,” said Luke. “Change your clothes, I’ll be back in five minutes.”

      He got out of the car. The storm was moving off as fast as it had arrived, the lightning had abated, and even the rain had let up. He scrambled down the slope and sat down on some old boards, reflecting on what had happened.

      He’d lost control down there on the wharf, when Katrin had so unexpectedly and wholeheartedly kissed him back. Lost it instantly and completely and uncharacteristically. He never lost control. No matter who the woman was or how long he’d been without one. Oh, physically he could let go, that wasn’t the issue. But he always kept his emotions under wrap.

      Not with Katrin. In the space of five minutes he’d felt passionately grateful, hugely protective, and fiercely possessive. Grateful? Because a woman had kissed him? Protective of a woman entirely capable of looking after herself? As for possessive, he neither wanted to possess another human being nor to be possessed by one. If honesty were Katrin’s middle name, independence was his. He’d come to that conclusion at fifteen, and had seen no reason to change it since.

      It was a good thing she’d been too shy or too frightened to change her clothes in front of him. He’d needed to get away from her. To take time out, to think with his brain cells instead of his hormones.

      Danger. That was what Katrin spelled. He already knew that.

      Danger or not, he still wanted her. More than he’d wanted anything or anyone for a very long time.

      As a stray gust rustled through the shrubs behind him, a shower of raindrops trickled down his neck. Luke swiped them off, thinking furiously. If he really wanted Katrin, why couldn’t he have her? On his terms?

      She hadn’t needed any persuading on the wharf.

      He could persuade her again. Of course he could. Although he’d have to tell her what his terms were; it wouldn’t be fair to deceive her on that score.

      But if she accepted them, he could take her to bed.

      How else was he going to get rid of this obsession with Katrin Sigurdson?

      CHAPTER SIX

      A LAST flicker of lightning lit the sky. Far across the lake thunder growled in a halfhearted way. Luke’s thoughts marched on. Once he’d gone to bed with Katrin, he’d be leaving here. Flying to New York, then back home to San Francisco. He’d forget her.

      Easy.

      Was the five minutes up? He hoped so. It was cold sitting here, his shirt clinging to his back. Luke got to his feet and walked up the hill. Katrin was sitting bolt upright in the front seat, a pale yellow sweater swathing her body. Luke got in the car.

      The sudden blast of heat made him shiver involuntarily. In quick distress, she said, “You’re cold. Here, I’ve got an extra sweater.”

      “I’m fine,” he said roughly. “Quit feeling sorry for me.”

      “I wasn’t aware that I was.”

      “I don’t need mothering!”

      The words had come from nowhere, and instantly Luke wished them unsaid. Katrin said in an unfriendly voice, “If I felt the slightest bit motherly toward you, I wouldn’t be having X-rated dreams.”

      “So tell me about them,” he said.

      “Are you kidding? Luke, take me home. Then you should go back to the resort and have a hot shower.”

      “I could have one at your place.”

      “Look, I know I—”

      “Katrin,” he said softly, “come here.”

      “No! We can’t—” Then she gave a strangled yelp, for Luke had leaned over and, with exquisite gentleness, pressed his mouth to hers. Her lips were soft and yielding, warmer than his. His head began to swim.

      She shifted in her seat, nibbling very gently at his lower lip, her hands drifting down his throat to his shoulders.