"Lucas … "
"Luke," he corrected.
She frowned, thrown off guard. "What?"
"Luke. All my close friends-all being Aiden-call me Luke."
What was he doing? He didn't want her friendship or affection. The ship on respect had sailed the moment he'd threatened her father and blackmailed her. So what the hell was he doing? He didn't need to know her thoughts, past hurts, or dreams in order to screw her. But a woman like Sydney wouldn't give her body lightly. She would need an emotional connection to him in order to surrender everything. And he damn sure wanted-hungered for-everything. Him? It was purely physical. He didn't need to love or trust her to lose himself in her tight, hot core. And Sydney didn't expect either from him.
For the year they were together, they could enjoy a pleasant, sexually satisfying relationship. And at the end, walk away unscathed, intact.
A shutter seemed to slam shut over her face, blocking him from reading her thoughts. "But we're husband and wife, not friends," she reminded him, tone flat.
"One more bargain." He waited for her slight nod before continuing. "A truce. For the duration of this week. We have to live together as a couple for the next year. I'd rather the next three hundred and sixty-five days be harmonious instead of contentious. We can start here. This week. Try with me, Sydney," he murmured.
The ruthless businessman in him yearned to touch her, kiss her, force her agreement with desire. But not only did that damn promise stand in the way, but so did his very inconvenient conscience. He wanted her yes freely given.
Willingly given.
She studied him, her piercing inspection hovering between "I want to trust you" and "go to hell." After several long moments, a shaky breath escaped from between her lips, and the thick fringe of her lashes lowered.
"Fine. I'll try … Luke."
Chapter Fourteen
"I'm not putting that in my mouth."
"Sydney," Lucas began.
"No. Absolutely not."
He sighed. "You'll never know if you like it or not if you don't try it."
Sydney scrunched her face up. "I don't need to down a bottle of grease to know I won't like it or that it'll clog up my arteries. And eating that"-she pointed toward the aluminum-wrapped treat in his hand-"is the equivalent of drinking a lard cocktail."
He peeled back a silver flap and bit into the deep-fried Twinkie with a moan, his brilliant green-blue eyes fixed on her. She turned her head away, hiding the ripple of arousal in her belly at the low sound of pleasure.
"There should be a surgeon general warning slapped on that," she said.
"Come on, Sydney." He pinched off a piece of the golden-brown cake and held it in front of her lips, a script flip of Eve offering Adam an apple. Except this apple had been submerged in grease and had a creamy filling. "One taste. You just might be surprised and love it."
Said in that wicked voice, he was temptation personified. And it would require a stronger woman than her to resist. Sighing and mentally handing over her I-am-woman-hear-me-roar card, she reached for the snack. But he shook his head and nudged her lips, his hooded gaze locked on her mouth. Obeying his silent demand, she opened and allowed him to place the treat on her tongue. The rough pad of his finger grazed her flesh as he withdrew, leaving his unique taste behind to mingle with the cake.
She stifled a shiver. Jesus. The man could transform breathing into foreplay.
A combination of crunchy batter, soft sponge cake, and thick cream melted on her tongue. She shivered again, but for a completely different reason. "So that's what a heart attack tastes like. I've always wondered." She sipped from her black coffee, trying to erase the overly sweet flavor from her palate. "In a word. Yech."
He chuckled and finished off the snack with relish. His obvious enjoyment was both baffling and sensual. She leaned on the railing and studied the gray-blue waters of Elliott Bay, hoping the busy and colorful tableau of Seattle's famous Pike Place Market would distract her from staring at Lucas as if his face contained the answers to the deepest mysteries of the universe. Like what happened to planes that entered the Bermuda Triangle? Or what really became of Amelia Earhart? And how many licks did it take to get to the center of a Tootsie Pop?
Lucas Oliver was another great mystery yet to be unraveled.
Over the last three days, he'd squired her around Bainbridge as well as escorted her to Seattle, a thirty-minute ferry ride across the Sound. They'd done simple things such as sailing, shopping, and in Seattle, visiting a museum, going to the movies. Then there'd been the touristy activities like riding to the top of the Space Needle and dining in the restaurant there, since she'd never been to the landmark, as well as strolling among the many shops and stalls that created the Pike Place Market. And when the sun sank for the day, they returned to the six-bedroom cabin for delicious dinners prepared by Lucas's personal chef. The past few evenings had been passed sipping coffee or wine in front of a fire or even in a fierce battle of Monopoly. Lovely. Unexpected. She could apply those terms to the past several days, but not relaxing. Too much vitality, energy, and sexuality hummed within Lucas for her to completely relax around him. But he still fascinated her. Enticed her to work loose the many layers that comprised the man who could be merciless one moment, seductive the next, and in another blink, quietly teasing.
She shifted her attention back to him and found his steady, unflinching gaze on her. Almost as if he'd been patiently waiting for her to look at him so he could capture her in his visual web.
"Even if I had photographic evidence that Lucas Oliver, CEO of Bay Bridge Industries, enjoyed eating deep-fried Twinkies, no one would ever believe me."
"Aiden would."
"Because he's your friend?"
"Because he used to go with me at least three times a week and buy them from the mall's food court."
Surprise pulsed inside her. "I didn't realize you and Aiden went that far back."
He nodded. "We met in high school, and he's been my best friend ever since."
"I should've guessed your friendship was more than business related. He's the only person I've seen dare to poke the Bea-" Oh, hell.
His dark eyebrow arched. "The Beast?" His lips twitched. "It's okay, Sydney. I know what they call me."
"I'm sorry," she said. The cool wind off the water couldn't extinguish the heat firing her skin. "That was rude."
"It was the truth," he stated. "I prefer you risk violating the polite rules of society and be honest rather than politically correct."
Said no one to her ever. Shaking her head, she amended, "I meant to say he teases you where others vacillate between stuttering and bowing and scraping. He isn't … intimidated by you."
"You aren't, either."
Of course she was.
Did she fear he would abuse her? No. Only cowards hurt women, and Lucas was many things-ruthless, determined, unyielding, complicated, unnerving-but not a coward. She didn't fear him but what he made her feel. What he could turn her into.
A needy woman desperate for love and attention. His love and attention.
A kernel of panic bloomed, as tiny and grating as a pebble in a shoe.
"Aiden and I have been through hell together," he continued. "I know his deepest fears and secrets, and he knows mine. That kind of loyalty and friendship isn't born in the boardroom." He paused. Studied her. "What has your father done to deserve that kind of loyalty from you?"
She jerked, taken aback by the sudden switch in topic. "What are you talking about? He's my father," she stammered.
"And he isn't the warmest, most affectionate or supportive man. He expected you to marry a man because it was a financial coup for him. Your happiness was incidental. What about him inspires such devotion from you?"
"It isn't what he's done, but what I did." The admission burst past her lips before she could contain it. Horrified, she pinched the bridge of her nose hard. Oh, God, why had she blurted that out? And especially with him? He wouldn't understand. Couldn't understand how guilt and shame could whittle a person down until nothing remained but slivers of who they used to be-or could've been. Not Lucas-
A big palm slid across her nape. Tugged her closer until her cheek pressed against a hard chest. "Go ahead." The order was a rumble beneath her ear, and a key that unlocked the story she'd never repeated to anyone.
"My brother, Jay, was the son my parents had been praying and waiting for, and they were so happy and proud. I was six when he was born, and though I loved him, I also resented him for stealing the attention away that had been solely mine up until that point."