Everyone jumped to obey, and by the time Lukas and the boys wrestled the canoe onto the dock, Holly was wrapped in a towel.
The man who had provided it held out a hand to Lukas. "I'm Tom. Thanks for helping her out."
Lukas grinned. "It has always been my pleasure to pull Holly out of the water."
"Usually after you pushed me in," Holly retorted.
Tom blinked. "You two know each other?"
"We're old friends," Lukas said.
"He's an old friend of my husband's," Holly amended. "Lukas Antonides."
Tom Williams beamed. "Great. He can take you home then."
"I ride the bus!" Holly protested.
Tom raised doubtful brows at her sodden clothes and streaming hair. "They aren't going to let you on like that."
"I'll take a taxi."
Tom shook his head. "Not likely, Hol'."
"It's all right," Lukas said. "I'll take her."
Tom beamed and grabbed Lukas's hand, pumping it up and down again. "I wouldn't want to leave her to get home on her own, and I've got to get these kids back to school. See you Monday, Hol'. Come on, gang." He clapped two of the boys on the shoulder, then herded all the kids up to the van.
Holly didn't speak until they were all out of earshot. Then she said, "I'm not going with you."
"Right," Lukas said. "You're just going to stand here until you dry."
He could hear her grinding her teeth. She didn't look at him, just hugged her towel tighter and stared at the departing van. Lukas didn't care. He stood there and drank in his fill of Holly Halloran.
It felt oddly like reaching an oasis after a lifetime of wandering in the desert. He had spent so many years determinedly not thinking about Holly that it was hard to believe she was actually here in front of him.
She was definitely no less eye-catching than she had ever been. Her bones were sharper now, her eyes set deeper. Tiny lines fanned out at the corners of them. From laughter? From sorrow? God knew she'd suffered that. Lukas wanted to reach out a finger and touch them.
No doubt he'd get a slap for his trouble. That wouldn't have changed, either. Except once. Once she'd let him touch her.
"What are you doing here, Lukas?" Her voice cut across his memories, jerking him back to the present. She was looking at the Manhattan skyline, not at him. There was nothing inviting in her tone.
"You wrote me a letter," Lukas reminded her.
Her fingers tightened on the towel wrapped across her breasts. "I sent you a deed of gift and asked you to sign it. Or to tell me if you wanted to keep the boat yourself."
"I read that."
"So, I repeat, what are you doing here?" The afternoon sun made her hair look more auburn than brown, like spun copper.
"I figured we could talk about it." He paused. "I wanted to see you."
Wanted to see if whatever he'd once felt was still there. It was perverse, he supposed, how Holly's contrariness had always sharpened his senses. Going head-to-head with Holly always exhilarated him, made him feel alive. As a boy he hadn't understood the subtext to their encounters, hadn't yet connected the dots. It was all about attraction. His brain had finally recognized it at fifteen. His body had known it sooner-probably from the very moment he'd met her when he'd been shaken and stirred, both at once. He'd put it down to the suddenness of her tumbling out of the tree and confronting him. His heart had pounded and his pulse had raced the same way they were doing now.
The way they had the night he had incurred Holly's everlasting wrath, the night he'd crossed the line.
And heaven help him, Lukas wanted to cross it again. He'd been gone for a dozen years, had dated more women than he could even remember, and they'd all paled in comparison to Holly. His best friend's girl, and he'd never stopped comparing other women to her! He wanted to touch her again now, wanted to feel the softness of her skin and to trace her curves, to kiss her lips and still the chatter of her teeth. Good lord, her lips were blue!
"Come on," he said abruptly. "Let's get you home."
"I don't need you to-"
"Don't be an idiot, Holly. I'm offering you a ride. Nothing else!"
For the moment.
For a dozen years he'd told himself that the past was past, that they'd all moved on, that what he'd felt was kid stuff, that he was well over her. After all, when he'd come back to New York, he hadn't sought her out. He hadn't even considered opening that door again. Not until Wednesday when he got Holly's letter.
And when the door had opened anyway, he knew he had to see her again. But even this morning he had been convinced that everything he'd ever felt for Holly wouldn't stand the test of time. She had been the dream girl of his past, the one girl against whom he'd measured all the others he'd met since.
But he really hadn't expected to do more than make his peace with the past-with her. He expected to feel maybe a little nostalgia-and a twist of guilt.
But seeing her now, he knew it wasn't going to be as simple as that. He felt the guilt, all right. But he didn't feel nostalgia.
He felt as fierce an attraction as he'd ever felt. Some elemental connection that he'd never felt to another woman. He had a lot more experience now than he'd had back then.
Yes, she was obviously still holding a grudge. But he had to believe she'd changed, too, that she couldn't hate him forever. Could she?
Lukas slanted a glance at the girl who had stirred his blood, at the woman apparently capable of stirring it still, and knew he was going to stick around and find out.
For all that he suspected he should, he couldn't walk away.
CHAPTER THREE
THE MINUTE SHE saw Lukas, Holly had felt her heart kick over in her chest. All the years of pretending he didn't exist blew right out the window. It was like being eighteen again-young and intense and, above all, foolish.
And there was nowhere to run. Nowhere at all.
For years every time Holly remembered the night of her senior prom, she had done so with a bucket load of guilt-and a heart load of resentment.
It never should have happened, she told herself. And it was all her fault.
She should have been stronger. Firmer. She should have said no, right from the start, when Matt had broken his leg.
At least it hadn't been her fault he'd broken his leg. That had, of course, been Lukas's-just as every hair-raising, death-defyingly stupid thing Matt and Lukas had ever done could be laid squarely at Lukas's door. In this case, two weeks before her prom, Lukas had persuaded Matt to climb Mount Katahdin in Maine.
Holly had not been invited.
She couldn't have gone anyway because, while Matt and Lukas were sophomores in college and their schedules that Friday were free, Holly was a senior in high school with classes every day. Besides, it was the weekend she was getting her dress fitted for the prom, not to mention that her mother would have freaked out if Holly ever dreamed of going camping with two guys, even if one was her fiancé.
Lukas thought their engagement was idiotic. He had looked confused, then appalled when she had held out her hand to show off her ring. "What's that?" he'd asked warily.
And when she'd said, "I'm engaged," he'd stared at her in disbelief.
"To get married?"
"No, to wash windows." Holly had rolled her eyes. "Of course to get married. What do you think?"
He had thought they were out of their minds, and he hadn't hesitated to say so. He'd told Matt he was foreclosing on his options too early, that he had no idea what other women were on the planet, that he would never know what he was missing. He didn't tell Holly anything. Obviously he considered Matt to be the one making the bad choice. She'd wanted to smack him.
But Matt-her dear, dependable Matt-had just laughed and said, "I'm not missing anyone important. I've got the only one who matters." And he'd wrapped an arm around Holly's shoulders, hauling her hard against him, the two of them presenting a solid wall of defiance in the face of Lukas's scorn.
Only then had Lukas turned to Holly. "You can't be serious." His tone had said he wasn't joking. Their gazes met and something flickered between them that Holly immediately suppressed. Attraction? Connection? She had never let herself examine it too closely. Lukas Antonides was far too powerful, too unpredictable-too intensely male-for Holly to handle.
"I love Matt," she had said flatly. It was true. Matt was comfortable, predictable-every bit as male as Lukas, but without the intensity she found so unnerving.
Lukas hadn't disputed it. But he hadn't shut up, either. Over the following weeks he had told her she was too young. He'd questioned whether she knew her own mind.