Handsome Devil Page 3

  What was he thinking? Selena sipped at her hot drink and observed Luke surreptitiously over the rim of her cup. There was a strange expression on his handsome face, and he was staring at the cookie in his hand as if he’d never before seen anything quite like it. He looked hungry, but not for the chewy sweet he was contemplating.

  He raised his eyes from the cookie. His gaze tangled with hers. His thoughts were revealed in the depths of his dark eyes, blatant with desire. A shiver performed the fandango down Selena’s spine. She didn’t need to hear the words spoken. She knew what he was thinking.

  She was the selection of choice on Luke’s personal dessert menu! In eloquent silence, he was informing her of his intention to have her served, not on a silver platter, but between the sheets of his choosing.

  Selena swallowed then swallowed again. It didn’t help. Her throat was dust dry, parched, throbbing in rhythm with an expanding ache deep inside of her. She gulped the coffee and shuddered as the hot liquid blazed a trail from her tongue to her stomach.

  Luke’s incredibly long eyelashes flickered as he lowered his smoldering gaze from her eyes to her throat, then to her moistened lips. His eyes devoured her mouth. The shiver dancing on her spinal column went into a frenzy. The throb inside her contracted into a tight ache of unspeakable longing.

  He didn’t utter as much as a murmur, yet Selena heard his impassioned cry as clearly as if Luke had shouted his needs and desires aloud.

  She trembled.

  His heated gaze monitored her tremors.

  This was crazy! A tiny, sane portion of Selena’s mind broke through her bemusement in outrage. She was immune to this sort of silent seduction, she reminded herself. She had gained that immunity through exposure to the shattering infection of mindless physical demands. Had she persevered and won her hard-fought victory over force, only to succumb to the power of a pair of glittering, devilish dark eyes?

  “No!” The sharp sound of her own voice startled Selena as much as it did the man seated opposite her.

  “No—what?” Luke blinked, frowned and then laughed. “I haven’t asked you yet.”

  Oh, yes, you have! Selena bit back the retort. “Asked?” she said, repressing a shudder as she watched him sink his strong teeth into the cookie,

  Luke chewed the sweet and washed it down with a deep swallow of coffee before responding to her hesitant query. “I was going to ask you if you’d mind if I came along for the ride tomorrow.”

  Selena went blank. “Tomorrow?”

  Luke gave her an odd look. “Didn’t I hear you say you have a half-day float tomorrow?”

  “Oh, yes!” Selena smiled outwardly and groaned inwardly. “I mean, yes, I do have a float tomorrow.”

  Luke smiled and polished off his cookie. “The usual time...nine o’clock?”

  “Yes.” Selena frowned. “You want to come along?”

  “If you wouldn’t mind,”

  Mind? Of course, she’d mind. “No, of course, I wouldn’t mind,” she lied, with a strained smile. “I’m just curious as to why you’d want to go. Surely you’ve been on a half-day before?” Selena arched her eyebrows.

  “Yes.” Raising the cup, Luke drained its contents. There was no way he would admit to the curiosity about her expanding inside his mind, but he was determined to observe her in her working environment. “But I haven’t been on a float with the accepted expert guide,” he explained in a deceptively offhand tone of voice.

  Did she detect a slight dig there? Selena mused. A mild slur against her status of expert? Positive that Luke was being chauvinistically condescending, she bristled. Feeling both insulted and challenged, she flashed her most brilliant counterfeit smile.

  “It’s only a half-day float and the river’s low. It’s not going to be very exciting, but—” she shrugged “—I have no objections to having you along.” In truth, Selena had not only objections, but serious reservations about being the target of his observation.

  “Good.” Luke set his cup on the table and slid back his chair. “Thanks for the coffee.” He stood and offered her a derisive smile. “And I do apologize for earlier.”

  Right.

  Selena swallowed the uncharitable thought while responding, politely, “Apology accepted,”

  “And now you’d like me to leave.”

  She inclined her head. “It is getting late.”

  Luke shot a glance at his watch. “All of ten-fifteen,” He laughed, but turned to go. “I’ll be at the warehouse early to help with the equipment.”

  While she heard him with a part of her mind, another part was busy fighting the melting effect of his soft laughter, and her voice sounded vague. “Okay. Thank you.” She swallowed. It didn’t help. She swallowed once more. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” Luke nodded, took a step back, paused, then, moving with blurring, silent swiftness, circled the table to loom over her. “It’s not going to be a good night,” he muttered, bending to her. “It’s going to be a lousy night.”

  His last words were murmured close to her mouth. Selena felt his moist breath on her lips, caught the scent of coffee with her senses. “Luke...”

  He drank her protest with his hungry mouth. His lips were cool and firm, not passive, but not demanding, either. The pressure his mouth applied to hers was minimal, yet Selena felt the resultant ripples in every nerve ending she possessed. The sensation was shattering. She wanted more. But before she could respond, the pressure was removed. Luke straightened and moved back, away from her. She stared up at him in frustrated confusion.

  “Take that good-night with you to your empty bed,” he muttered. An instant later, the front door closed with a soft click behind him.

  Luke was gone, but the vibrations of his presence hummed in the still air, drumming against Selena’s senses. Unmoving, she sat staring at the empty kitchen archway, absorbing the echoes of all the words that hadn’t been spoken between them.

  What was it about this man? She mused, shivering in response to the cool breeze wafting through the open kitchen window. At least, she told herself that her shiver was in reaction to the night air. Oh, without doubt, Luke Branson was the most masculinely handsome man she had ever had the misfortune to come in contact with. But, she reminded herself, she had never been impressed with mere good looks or the attraction of a long, muscled male form. And she had certainly never been impressed by a cool kiss!

  So why was she feeling so very hot inside? What was it about this particular man? His personality? Selena made a grunting noise. Not likely. Since he had proved himself to be both aggressive and irascible, overlaid with arrogance, Luke’s personality left a lot to be desired.

  And yet, something about him, inside him, had spoken in silken whispers to something inside her.

  The memory of the effect, the continuing effect, of those whispers, strengthened by the tantalizing taste of his brief kiss, intensified the shiver playing havoc with Selena’s nervous system. A low moan slipped through her lips, startling her from her reverie. Scraping back her chair, she jumped up and began to gather the coffee things together.

  “Sheer chemistry.” Selena spoke aloud, in a harsh tone aimed at dispelling Luke’s lingering vibrations. “That old black magic. The siren song of hormones.” The table cleared, she headed for her bedroom, pausing with her hand on the light switch inside the smooth plaster archway, she ran a jaundiced glance around the room. “Ah, the mystery of it all.” She grimaced and rolled her eyes. “Ha! Baloney!” She hit the switch, plunging the room into darkness.

  But Luke’s prediction proved stronger than Selena’s bravado—it was a long, lousy night. The next day started out bad and went downhill from there. After a restless, dream-strewn night, Selena awoke with a nightmare of a headache.

  It was all Luke’s fault, she grumbled irritably to herself, wincing as she tugged a brush through her sleep-tangled hair. Why did he have to come to this particular part of Texas, anyway? The thought stilled her fingers in the act of plaiting three thick secti
ons of her hair into a single braid.

  Where had Luke come from? And why? Selena frowned at her reflection in the dresser mirror. She was aware that all of Will’s employees were drop-outs of one type or another—including Will himself. Selena knew them, recognized them, because she was one of them as well. But there was something different about Luke. The difference was subtle, hard to define, but it was there.

  And it bothered her.

  Impatient with him and with herself, Selena flipped the long braid over her shoulder and, slanting a wry look at her scowling image, turned away from the mirror. It was getting late. She didn’t have time for reflections—of any sort. She had a job to do.

  The day was warm and pleasant. The river was placid. The paying customers were congenial. The work would have been a pleasure for Selena if it hadn’t been for one member of the group. Even though, in all reluctant honesty, she had to admit that Luke had kept his promise by arriving early to help her and the two recently hired trainee river guides who were working the float with her.

  Had he been almost any other man, Selena would have appreciated his assistance. Quite like her, Luke worked efficiently. He loaded the equipment at the supply warehouse and then unloaded it again at the launching spot on the river in less than half the time required by many others she could name.

  But why did he have to look so darned good? Selena asked herself at regular intervals while greeting the tourists, and again while chatting with them during the short bus ride upriver, and then while instructing the group on the hows and whys of their life jackets.

  And why did he look so good to her? She asked herself, steadying the raft while Luke gallantly assisted the ladies in the party.

  His attire—cutoff jeans, a T-shirt, rubber-soled sandals and a straw hat—was similar to that worn by most of the other guides, herself included. Yet somehow, on Luke’s slim, muscular body, the clothes took on a certain elegance.

  But was it the clothing or the man?

  Avoiding the dangerous question, Selena leaned on the long oar to push the raft away from the sandy shore and into the river’s slow current.

  There were three rafts for the half-day trip—two small, one large. Selena had taken the lead in the larger raft. The other two rafts, each carrying four customers, trailed at a safe distance behind her. In her raft was a party of eight—three middle-aged couples, herself, and Luke.

  The three women were seated on the seat in the front of the raft, exclaiming over every bird, turtle and even domestic animal they spotted. Their husbands and Luke were perched on the inflated sides and back of the raft. Selena was happy to be in the guide’s position at the center of the craft. With the necessity of facing forward to steer, Selena didn’t have to look at him.

  She was earning her salary, Luke observed, while absently listening to the conversation among the men on either side of him.

  In fact, Selena was working up a healthy sweat.

  He gave the appearance of being utterly relaxed, with his long legs stretched out in front of him and his feet crossed at his ankles. But Luke was alert to every nuance of the woman standing before him.

  Concealed by dark sunglasses, Luke’s narrowed eyes focused on Selena’s slender form. Beneath her smooth, tanned skin, her feminine muscles rippled as she plied the oars to keep the raft moving in the sluggish current. The late-morning sunrays poured over her, sheening her skin with a fine film of perspiration.

  Luke wet his lips and fought a sudden intense desire to glide the tip of his tongue down the enticing hollow of her spine. In that instant, he wanted her so badly his hands trembled. He wanted to test the strength she was applying to the oars, experience her supple motion as she wrapped herself around him. He wanted to feel the slickness of her aroused body sliding against the passion-drawn wetness of his.

  “Hot, isn’t it?”

  Hotter than hell. Luke held his tongue and gave a wry smile to the man seated on his left. “Yeah,” he replied. “And it’s only mid-April. They tell me that I’ll be gasping from the heat by early June.”

  “You’re not a native?”

  “No.” Luke shook his head. “I’m originally from Pennsylvania, outside Philadelphia.”

  “Could’ve fooled me,” murmured the man, who had introduced himself simply as Chet, a C.P.A. from Maine. “I’m glad we decided to take our vacation in the spring this year, instead of summer.”

  “Your first time in West Texas?” Luke asked, trying to sound interested, while fighting a silent battle of control with his clenching body.

  Chet nodded. “First time in the Southwest, actually.” He nodded again to indicate the slightly overweight woman seated on the right side of the raft. “Texas was my wife’s idea.” His expression turned droll. “She suggested it right after she finished reading a book about the Alamo.”

  Luke grinned. “Have you been to San Antonio?”

  “Yes. Beautiful city. We all loved the River Walk.”

  “Oh, then the six of you are traveling together?” Luke asked, skimming a glance at the other five members of the group.

  “We’re related,” Chet said, laughing. “Besides that, we get along fine. We’ve been vacationing together for the last five or six years now.”

  “I see,” Luke murmured, certain that what he saw were three couples who no longer felt a need for romance or the privacy necessary to indulge that need.

  For some reason, the idea bothered Luke. He was relieved when one of the women excitedly drew his attention to something moving in the water.

  “Yes, it’s a snake,” Selena said, using the oars to slow the raft’s motion. She called back to the other two guides to draw their attention to the reptile, then leaned forward to peer at it. “It could be a bull...I can’t tell for sure at this distance.”

  “Are there a lot of snakes around here?” Chet’s wife asked, staring at the riverbank with a new intensity.

  “Oh, they’re around,” Selena replied. “But, you know, snakes are really shy creatures. They avoid confrontation rather than look for it. Why, I’ve been on the river for four years now and I’ve only seen three or four snakes in all that time.”

  “And on land?” the woman persisted.

  “I’ve seen a few,” Selena admitted. “But only rarely where there’s human traffic.” Her smile was reassuring. “They’re not like some animals, human or otherwise. They don’t come begging for handouts.”

  “But the cashier at the general store told my husband that there was a snake right outside his trailer just yesterday morning,” the woman seated in the middle of the trio piped in, shuddering visibly. “He said it was a rattler and that he almost stepped on it”

  Selena angled her head to slant an amused look at Luke before responding to the woman. “And did your husband offer the cashier his other leg?”

  “What?” The woman looked blank.

  The four men at the rear of the raft chuckled.

  “The cashier,” Selena said. “That was Jasper Chance, and I believe he was pulling your husband’s leg…just a little. Jasper likes to add local color for the tourists so they don’t go away disappointed.”

  “Oh!” The woman laughed in appreciation. “Then if we’re careful, we have nothing to be anxious about... I mean, when we stop for the snack that’s included in the float?”

  “Not a thing,” Selena said reassuringly. “As all of you will realize in a few minutes,” she continued, steering the raft toward a gently sloping section of the riverbank, “this is where we’re stopping for the promised snack.” Her eyes danced with humor as she swept a glance over the group. “And, if any one of you spot a snake, please don’t hesitate to bring it to my attention.” Her lips curved in a delightful smile. “Because I want to see it, too.”

  Her smile went straight to Luke’s senses.

  Chapter Three

  Bemused, confused and rattled, Luke sat in the sketchy shade cast by a scraggly tree and picked at the food he’d absently placed on his paper plate.

 
As snacks went, the one provided by the tour agency was lavish. Working competently together, Selena, the other two guides and Luke had set out an array of finger food fit for the best restaurants anywhere.

  In addition to a shrimp dip, which Selena whipped together, there was a selection of cheeses, pickles, olives and crackers. There were thick slices of summer sausage and smoked oysters. There were nuts, potato chips and pretzels. And for dessert, there was an assortment of cookies, plus slices of fresh apples and oranges.

  Luke sampled everything... and tasted nothing.

  He was more than distracted. His thoughts were fractured, skimming off toward middle-aged couples vacationing together one second, then bouncing along a different path to rest on the emerging and surprising facets of Selena’s character.

  He gave only token attention when one of the tourists exclaimed over what he thought was a goat. The creature was perched precariously on the side of the steep bluff that loomed over the arroyo where the group had made temporary camp, Luke did notice, and was impressed by, Selena’s response.

  Busily slicing more oranges for the hungry group, she glanced around and up, narrowed her eyes, and pronounced, “It’s not a goat, it’s a horse.” She immediately returned her attention to the job at hand.

  The skeptical tourist was inclined to argue. “Nah, that can’t be a horse,” he insisted, craning his neck for a better look, “It must be a goat.”

  Since Selena didn’t answer, but merely shrugged, Luke decided to settle the question. Setting his plate aside, he got up and ambled to where he’d stashed his backpack with the tour supplies. Retrieving his binoculars from the pack, he adjusted them and zoomed in on the animal.

  “It’s a horse,” he said, offering the glasses to the other man so he could see for himself. His expression still skeptical, the man took the glasses and raised them to his eyes.

  “Damned if it isn’t!” He lowered the glasses and gave Selena a sheepish smile. “You were right, miss.”