Handsome Devil Read online

  Selena had put twelve feet of space between them, and Luke was still too close for her comfort. Her rebellious eyes insisted on slanting sideways glances at his tall, too-attractive frame draped lazily against the patio railing. The quick glimpses of the back of his neatly shaped head, the width of his shoulders, the narrowness of his waist, were enough to give her shivers. The sight of his trim, tight rear end and his long, muscular legs caused a dry pain in her throat.

  It had been that way since the first time she had strolled into the tour office to find Luke similarly draped against the reception counter. He had had an effect on Selena she would not have believed possible prior to entering the office. His effect on her senses had intensified with each subsequent meeting. She didn’t welcome the breathless, disoriented sensation he induced with his mere presence, and she didn’t like it but she didn’t know quite what to do about it

  Selena’s initial reaction had been self-protective in the emotional extreme. She had felt compelled to run as fast and as far as she could. But her sense of pride and cultivated self-discipline had come to her rescue. She would be damned if she’d run from any man.

  Not that she had never run from a man. She had. Selena had retreated from several masculine advances. But that was before she had gathered herself and her defenses together, before she had formulated a set of rules—her own rules—to live by. And number one on her rule list was never again to allow any man to intimidate her in a sexual, or any other, manner.

  The life rules had worked quite well for Selena for over five years. She had acquired the expertise necessary to maintain smooth working and social relationships with men. She had learned to laugh and tease and flirt and then adroitly dance away, unaffected and unscathed.

  And then she had walked into the tour office and set eyes on Luke Branson. That one look had blown her rules and senses into shards of quivering, tormenting awareness.

  Selena felt helpless, and she hated the feeling. Bristling with resentment, she slid another glance at him, just as he turned to stare directly at her.

  In twilight, she couldn’t see his eyes, but she could feel the impact of his stare. The shiver that feathered her arms, drawing bumps to the surface of her skin, had nothing to do with the gentle evening breeze. His silent observation unnerved her. His thoughts crept across the width of the patio to whisper to her subconscious. He wanted her, and he had every intention of having her. Selena felt it, knew it as surely as she knew the stark mountains in the distance would still be there with the next sunrise. The knowing scared the hell out of her.

  Run, don’t walk, to the nearest exit.

  Selena obeyed the inner command without question, as she would a command to flee a burning building. As long as she remained in Luke’s vicinity, she was in danger of being severely burned...from a different type of flame.

  “Well, I’m going home. I’ve got an early float tomorrow morning,” Selena made the announcement in a tone pitched to carry to the man lounging against the rail. She’d be drawn and quartered before she’d have him believe she was running from him...even though she was. “Anybody see my sandals?” She sent a frown around the patio, as if she didn’t know what had become of her footgear... even though she did. She saw Luke turn and look down at the patio floor. Her breath caught as he shoved away from the rail. Bending, he scooped up her sandals and denim shoulder bag. Her heart thumped painfully as he ambled toward her.

  “These what you’re looking for?”

  “Oh, yes,” Selena forced a smile. “Thank you.” She was careful not to brush his hands with her fingers as she took her things. “And good night,” she added brightly—too brightly?—as she turned away.

  “You’re welcome.”

  Controlling the urge to dash away, Selena strolled toward the side of the house where everyone had parked their cars. Swinging her sandals in a carefree way, she called a general good-night to the others. Luke’s voice was little more than a whisper, but she heard him, even over the light sound of her own voice and the thundering of her heartbeat. “Put your sandals on, you’ll hurt your feet.”

  Pretending she hadn’t heard, Selena kept moving. She let herself out through the gate in the patio rail and immediately stepped on a sharp stone. Muttering a curse, she gritted her teeth and forged ahead. She much preferred the pain in her feet, she thought, wincing as her tender sole pressed into another stone, than an injury to her emotions. Her body jerked when a low voice called to her.

  “Selena.”

  She was about to dash the last few yards to her car when the voice called out again and she realized that the voice belonged to Brenda.

  “Will you wait a minute? Where’s the fire?”

  Feeling ridiculous, Selena came to a stop. Working her stiff lips into a smile, she turned as Brenda caught up to her. “I’m sorry. I was thinking and didn’t hear you.”

  “Must have been some heavy thoughts,” Brenda said, panting. “Something worrying you?”

  “No, of course not,” Selena denied, thinking, not something, but someone, “What’s up?”

  The other woman gave a low, throaty laugh. “Well, we won’t go into that. I just wanted to tell you not to be concerned if I’m not home when you get up tomorrow morning.”

  Selena arched her eyebrows. “Dave?”

  “Yes,” Brenda replied with blunt honesty. “He asked me to spend the night with him.”

  Selena was already concerned for her friend. Even as she told herself to mind her own business, she asked, “Is this wise, Brenda?”

  The other woman shrugged. “Probably not, but you know I flipped for him the minute he showed up here out of the blue from Colorado.”

  “Hmm.” Selena nodded. “But flipping and flopping are two altogether different things.”

  “Yeah, I know. Flipping brings on the urge for flopping,” Brenda laughed. “Don’t worry about me, Lena,” she went on in a soft, serious tone. “I’m a big girl, in more than just my height. I can take care of myself.”

  “I know.” Selena smiled. “But, all the same, I’d hate to see you get hurt.”

  “So would I.” Brenda reached out to give Selena a quick hug. “Thanks for caring, friend, I appreciate it. But you know, you have to take a chance on being burned...if you want the fireworks.”

  Selena had never cared much for fireworks, considering them too dangerous to play around with. But she kept her opinion to herself. At thirty, Brenda was intelligent, mature and capable of making her own decisions, and the last thing she needed was pressure from her friend. Heeding her own advice, Selena backed away from the discussion.

  “Then I guess I’ll see you when I see you,” she

  “Right” Flashing a grin, Brenda turned back toward the patio. “Have a good night,” she called over her shoulder, “and a good float tomorrow.”

  “Okay, thanks,” Selena called back, watching as Brenda wove through the parked cars. She was about to turn again when she caught sight of a tall, dark form standing near the gate at the edge of the patio.

  A tremor quaked through Selena’s body. Her gaze fastened on the shadowed figure, as she slowly backed the rest of the way to her car. Her fingers shook as she inserted me key in the ignition. When the engine fired, she gunned it. The tires kicked up a spray of dust and stones as the car surged forward. Seconds later, Selena glanced into the rearview mirror and her trembling ringers flexed, tightening into a death grip on the steering wheel.

  Another vehicle had pulled onto the road behind her. Selena didn’t need a roadside sign to tell her who the vehicle belonged to.

  Luke was following her.

  Why was he following her? Selena asked herself, gnawing on her bottom lip.

  What did Luke Branson want of her?

  Tension spiraled through Selena’s body and she groaned aloud in protest. What did he want of her?

  Dumb question.

  Chapter Two

  Luke had stepped from the lighted patio moments after Brenda slipped through the patio gate. H
e was reaching for the handle on the door of his dust-coated Jeep when he heard the engine of Selena’s car turn over. He drove off the dirt lot adjacent to Will’s house seconds after she tore away from the lot as though the devil himself was pursuing her.

  Since the traffic consisted of just an occasional car or pickup truck, Luke had no difficulty maintaining a discreet distance while keeping her tail-lights in view. He brought the Jeep to a stop behind her in the dirt driveway leading to her house as the lights on her car flicked off.

  Selena stepped from her low-slung, racy-looking car into the direct glare of the higher-placed headlights on his vehicle, and froze. Luke felt a strange twist of emotion deep inside at the look of her. Her eyes were wide, her expression startled, which was understandable. But what jolted Luke was the hint of fear visible in her starkly illuminated face.

  Fear? The word stabbed into Luke’s conscience. Selena had to know it was he...she must have seen him pull out behind her when she tore away from Will’s place. And yet she looked cornered, poised for flight, like a doe ready to leap for cover.

  Luke cursed himself in disgust as he stared into her still, light-washed face. Dammit! The last thing in the world he’d wanted to do was frighten her. His purpose was seduction...not intimidation.

  They moved simultaneously, ending the moment that had seemingly frozen in the soft spring night. Luke pushed the door open and stepped out of the Jeep, Her eyes flashing green fire, Selena raised her chin as she turned fully to confront him,

  “Why did you follow me?” Her voice was taut with suppressed anger and trepidation. “What do you want?”

  You. The response leaped into Luke’s mind. Choosing prudence, he left it there. “To talk,” he answered in a soothing, even tone. “I only want to talk to you.”

  “About what?” she demanded, stepping back and watching him warily as he strolled toward her.

  Luke raised his hands in a pacifying gesture. “About my boorish behavior at the party,” Though the admission came hard for Luke, he was glad he’d made it, for it drew an immediate, tension-easing; reaction from Selena.

  “At least you realize that you did behave badly,” she said, wryly. “That’s something...I suppose.” She shifted her gaze from him to his Jeep, arching her eyebrows as she squinted into the glare from the headlights. “You’d better talk fast. Those lights will drain your battery.”

  Luke felt his lips twitch in amusement. “Not that fast.” He controlled the urge to smile when she slid her cat eyes back to him. “I was hoping you’d be neighborly and invite me in for a drink.”

  “Were you?”

  “Yes.”

  Broken only by natural night noises, the silence stretched between them while Selena studied him through narrowed eyes. It was obvious to Luke that she didn’t trust him. Barely breathing, he quashed his gnawing impatience. His breath eased in a soundless sigh from his tight chest when she gave a short nod of acceptance.

  “Okay, I’ll be neighborly and give you a drink.” She flicked her hand at his car. “Switch the headlights off then come into the house,” she said, abruptly swinging away. “I’ll start a pot of coffee.”

  “Coffee?”

  She didn’t bother to glance back at him. “Coffee,” she repeated in a definite tone.

  “Whatever you say.” Though Luke’s voice contained a sigh of regret, it was woven through with soft laughter.

  His laugh got to her. Or was it the repressed sigh? Shaking her head in despair, Selena unlocked her front door and entered the dark house. Leaving the door ajar, she flicked the wall switch, bathing the living room in a muted glow from the table and floor lamps. Dropping her shoulder bag onto the end of the curved couch, she kicked off her sandals and headed for the kitchen.

  Was it his sigh or his laugh?

  Selena considered the question as she stood at the sink, filling the glass pot from the cold water tap. Then again—did it really matter? What earthly difference did it make whether it had been the sound of his sigh or his laughter that had touched a chord inside her? Other than annoyance value, Luke Branson meant nothing to her, absolutely nothing. He wasn’t friend or enemy. He was simply there.

  Of course, that was the problem. He was there, and his being there unnerved Selena. The effect of his presence on her nervous system was brought home to her a moment later when suddenly Luke was there, in her kitchen, standing within scenting distance behind her. He smelled delicious, a combined scent of pure male, healthy sweat and tangy bath soap.

  Selena started.

  Luke laughed.

  Her question was answered.

  It was definitely the sound of his laughter that got to her. The masculine, sexy sound of his laughter. Damn him.

  Turning carefully to avoid touching him, Selena drew on her composure to give him a chiding smile. “You’re crowding me, and I don’t like it”

  “Sorry.” Luke took a half step back and smiled when she frowned. “That’s why I followed you home, to apologize for crowding you at the party.”

  ‘‘Then why are you doing it again?” Selena arched one winged eyebrow to add emphasis to her pointed demand.

  “Because you smell so damn good,” Luke’s casual shrug underlined his blunt reply.

  Uh-huh. Oh, boy. Yes, indeed. The pithy thoughts tumbled through Selena’s mind as she edged along the countertop in a sideways move to escape. There was a flutter inside her, a flutter unfamiliar, yet recognizable. And, considering the fact that the flutter had been caused by his casual compliment, Selena figured she was in trouble, especially since she had just decided she loved the scent of him. Yep, No doubt about it. She could very well be in deep trouble.

  “Ah...coffee!” Whipping around, Selena pulled open a cabinet door and thrust her hand inside. Cups rattled. Soft laughter swirled around her, through her, invading her mind and senses. It was heady. It was dangerous. It was weakening. Selena fought the sensations with the only weapon available. Clutching two cups, she slowly turned to glare at him.

  “I amuse you?” Her voice was edged with ice.

  “You arouse me.” His was honeyed with warmth.

  Selena’s insides began to melt, instilling an exciting mixture of panic and anticipation. She gulped, and grasped for a straw.

  “Is this your way of apologizing?” As straws went, it was a weak one, but it was all she could dredge up out of the sensuous haze clouding her ordinarily clear mind.

  The tiny lines radiating from the corners of Luke’s eyes crinkled with the hint of a smile that twitched at his lips. “For some reason, you have an extraordinary effect on my libido. Sorry.” Luke shrugged again.

  Selena felt the rippling motion of his shoulder muscles from her mind to the tingling soles of her bare feet.

  Unfair! She protested in silent rebellion. It simply wasn’t fair for any man to look so appealing, so handsome so devilishly sexy by executing a casual shrug. It was unfair to the female population at large and to her in particular. In desperation, she strove for the ultimate weapon of defense—her sense of humor.

  “Strange,” she murmured in a consoling tone. “But there seems to be an epidemic of weak libidos in the men out here in the wilds of West Texas.”

  Her gentle barb struck him smack on the funny bone. Luke gave an appreciative chuckle.

  There was a subtle change taking place inside him. Something was different. Luke didn’t relish the feeling, but he couldn’t deny it. Selena was proving to be not at all as he had expected. Yet, in a way, she was, in fact, everything he had expected. The seeming contradiction confused Luke. It was a condition with which he was unfamiliar, thus decidedly uncomfortable.

  He had to give this confusion some consideration. He had to think. Without conscious direction, Luke backed away, figuratively and literally.

  “Coffee ready?”

  She didn’t hear him. More accurately, Selena didn’t register the content of his question. She heard his voice. It had an odd, strained quality she couldn’t quite define. But she wa
sn’t listening too closely. She was caught in a web of bemusement, induced by the fluid movement of his tall, slender body.

  Water.

  The descriptive word surged into Selena’s mind as she watched Luke back away from her.

  Gently flowing water. Soothing- Comforting. Exciting.

  Selena mentally frowned. Exciting? Could a physical action be both comforting and exciting?

  The answer came in the leap of her pulse. Oh, yes. The two seemingly incompatible terms merged and blended in the lean form of Luke Branson when he moved.

  It was downright demoralizing.

  “Selena?”

  “Huh?” She blinked.

  “Coffee?”

  A rush of flustered heat brought lucidity. Selena drew a quick breath and expelled a short burst of laughter. “Yes!” Idiot she berated herself. Get it together! “I mean, of course the coffee’s ready.”

  Selena was nothing if not efficient and quick. Her motions were economic and spare as she poured the coffee, collected sugar and milk, and set a plate of cookies, the chewy oatmeal she’d baked two days ago, on the table.

  “Coffee is served,” she announced, inviting him to the table with an elegant sweep of her arm.

  The gesture set her gleaming black hair cascading around her shoulders and her breasts swayed gently. Luke swallowed to moisten the sudden dryness in his throat and groaned a silent protest against the delicious tightness in his body.

  No question, the woman was a cat-witch, pure and simple. On second thought, Luke mused, easing his taut frame onto a slat-backed chair, there wasn’t a thing simple about it, and forget pure. While seated on a solid wood chair, set on an equally solid tiled floor, he had the uncanny sensation of being inextricably mired in a bog of quicksand.

  For Luke, who took pride in always being in control, the feeling was more than a little unsettling.

  His fingers twitched from a reflexive urge to twine into the waist-long strands of her silky hair. His palm itched with a longing need to test the weight of her breasts. Luke wrapped his fingers around a cookie and filled his palm with the coffee cup, deriving little satisfaction from either of the tactile substitutes.