Beauty and the Bachelor(25)

"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."