Handsome Devil Read online

  Selena responded with a flashing smile and a quipped, “I get paid for being right.”

  Groaning silently in protest against the effect her smile had on his central nervous system, Luke collected his plate of barely touched food. He dropped it into the large trash bag clipped to the side of the folding table beneath the only shade tree in the arroyo.

  Although he deplored the waste of food, Luke knew there was no way he could force another morsel past the odd tightness in his throat. Annoyed with himself and with the new and puzzling emotions he was experiencing, he turned to one of the large water coolers that had been fastened at the front of each raft. Ignoring the containers of instant tea and lemonade mix provided, he tapped a paper cup of clear spring water.

  The cool liquid slid down his throat, easing the dryness, but having no effect on the closed, clenched feeling. Impatience riding his nerves, Luke walked away from the group. Striding along the arroyo bed, he walked until he could no longer hear the muted sound of their voices.

  The silence was pervasive, soothing, thought provoking. Soaking the sunlight and the quiet into his skin, Luke pondered his own sense of disquiet and tried to sort through the thoughts converging into a jumbled heap inside his head.

  Staring at the rugged landscape without really seeing it, he centered his mind on the strangeness of his feelings. For the life of him, Luke couldn’t recall a time when he had felt so uncertain, so disoriented about his own emotions—not even in his early twenties, when he met his ex-wife.

  For as long as he could remember, Luke had always had his life and head together. He was certain of what he wanted and knew exactly how to go about achieving his personal and professional goals. Even in the devastating wake of divorce and the British court’s denying him any custodial rights to his little girl, Luke had had no doubts about how to proceed.

  He had literally thrown himself into his work, producing masterpieces of architectural design that had won him worldwide acclaim. And, along with the fame, he had suddenly found himself the object of feminine attention—very willing attention. Still riddled with bitterness, and so without a hint of compunction, Luke had availed himself of all the delicious, ego-soothing favors offered by the lovely females.

  But that was before a small dynamo of a green-eyed woman had breezed into the tour office and his life, messing up his mind and emotions.

  The very idea of being uncertain was enough to give him indigestion. Luke absently raised a hand to massage the dull pain gathering in his temple.

  Dammit! He fumed. Why was he doing all this internal agonizing? He needed a woman and had set his sights on Selena. Why was he complicating the issue? Selena was just another woman, no better, no worse. And, in all truth, considering the tormenting hell his body was giving him, it would be to his advantage if she were worse than any other woman—at least, in a moral sense.

  Sharp pain streaked through Luke’s head. Closing his eyes, he applied deeper pressure to his throbbing temple with massaging fingers.

  “Luke.”

  Because it was the one voice he wanted most to hear, he thought at first that it came from the hidden, lonely area inside his head.

  “Luke, where are you?” Selena called out in a very real, impatient tone. “It’s time to go.”

  “I’m here,” Luke replied, sighing. He lifted his hand from his temple to settle the straw hat more firmly on his sweat-beaded brow. “I’m ready.”

  “Well, for heaven’s sake, what have you been doing back here?” Selena asked, spotting him as she rounded the bend of the arroyo. “Or is that an indelicate question?” Her grin was both impish and rakish.

  “I’ve been communing with nature,” Luke drawled. And myself, he added silently, striding toward her.

  “Are you all right?” Selena peered at him from beneath the brim of her own smaller hat.

  Luke scowled. “Of course, I’m all right. Let’s go.” He moved to walk around her, but she stopped him in his tracks by grasping his arm, revealing a surprising strength.

  “Luke, wait! Are you sure?” Her frown was fierce. “You look odd, pale, too hot.”

  He was too hot, inside and out, but not from the merciless rays of the sun. He was on fire, burning with desire to be with her, inside of her. He needed her, the silkiness of her, the heat of her, her passion—not, by damn, her compassion.

  Jerking his arm free of her grasp, Luke glared at her. “Yes, I’m sure. I’m fine.” He scowled. “You want proof?” Without plan or design, he reached for her. Grasping her upper arms, he pulled her to him, tormenting himself by molding her soft curves to the hard angles of his overheated body.

  This time there was no reserve, no lack of emotional impact to his kiss. Luke’s mouth didn’t merely touch Selena’s parched lips, it devoured them. His mouth was hard, hot, hungry. In an instant, Selena was drowning in a cauldron of moist heat. Her mouth was on fire, her senses were ablaze, her emotions inflamed. She felt the tip of his tongue flick her closed lips, seeking, then demanding, entrance. Helpless to do little else, she opened her mouth to allow him passage. The results of her instinctive reaction were devastating.

  Luke’s tongue surged into the wet sweetness of her lemonade-flavored mouth. Then, as if incited by the sweet-tart taste of her, he groaned and plunged his tongue to the depths, searing the delicate tissues with his urgent spear of possession.

  In that brief moment of union, Selena was his and she knew it. He could do as he wished with her— exert his will, draw her to the ground and take her, there and then, in the ruthless rays of broad sunlight, and she would not, could not, have stopped him— in truth, she would have helped him.

  Fortunately for Selena, Luke either didn’t realize—or chose not to take advantage of her weakened position. Cursing under his breath, he released his grip on her mouth and arms. Then, shaking his head, he drew away from her with a muttered, “Let’s get back to the others.”

  Her body made taut by her internal battle to absorb the tremors quaking through her, Selena stared in numb bemusement at the demoralizing attraction of Luke’s retreating form. What had she said to earn for herself both the literal and figurative sharp edge of his tongue? In an absent, reflective move, she skimmed her tongue over her lips, gathering the lingering sting of his bruising, arousing kiss. All she had done was ask if he was feeling all right and touched his arm. What was so wrong in that?

  Men! Shaking her head, Selena struck out after him. Would she ever understand the male of the species? A wry smile quirked her lips. On the other hand, did she really want to understand them, especially the deep, dark-souled ones like Luke?

  Shrugging off the unusual and unwanted excitement his kiss had induced within her and the strange concern she was feeling for him, Selena trudged along the arroyo until she caught up to the group waiting for her.

  “We’re off,” she announced, avoiding the tall, silent man standing beside the larger raft. “And I do mean in more ways than one.” Tossing an encouraging grin at the two trainee guides, she leaped into the raft.

  Luke spent most of the remainder of the float time in a brown study. He was angry—at himself, for his abrupt and physically torturing response to Selena’s concern for his welfare—and with Selena, for her initially impersonal attitude. And yet, even in his brooding state of distraction, he couldn’t help but notice the expert way she handled the ungainly raft while keeping an eye on the two inexperienced young men trailing at a safe distance behind her.

  Oh, yes, Luke conceded, Selena was very good at what she did. He experienced a memory of her heated response to his kiss and was forced to stifle a reflexive groan. He wanted more of her, a lot more. He ached to test the depths and breadth of her talents. Her multifaceted expertise was evident on several levels, even on this slow, seemingly interminable half-day float.

  The tourists lost some of their enthusiasm as the morning gave way to early afternoon. Like hothouse flowers, they began to wilt from exposure to the glaring sunlight. Still, they were game when Sele
na, still wearing her life jacket, slipped over the side into the water, inviting any and all to join her.

  To Luke’s amazement the women followed Selena fully clothed, taking time only to kick off their sandals. Though the men opted to remain in the raft, they called encouragement to their wives, and laughed good-naturedly when the ladies gave them a soaking by dousing them with water.

  “This feels great,” Chet’s wife said, splashing happily. “You ought to try it”

  “No, thanks,” Chet replied dryly, pulling his damp shirt away from his chest. “I’m about as wet as I care to be.”

  Drawn out of his moody reverie, Luke arched his eyebrows and smiled wryly. “Do they always literally throw themselves into their vacation activities like this?” He inclined his head to indicate the laughing, bantering females.

  “Pretty much so,” Chet replied sardonically. “But, then, they pretty much throw themselves into any and all the activities they get involved with year round. As my wife, Carol, says, ‘This is the only shot we’re going to get at this life, so we may as well wring as much enjoyment as possible from it.’ And the rest of us agree with her.”

  “That’s as good a life philosophy as any others I’ve heard,” Luke murmured.

  “That’s the way we figure it,” one of the other men, named Norm, chimed in. “And, to our way of thinking, it sure beats suffering in silence.”

  The unintended shot hit home for Luke, with his accumulated years of bitterness and anger. Wounded, but determined not to revel his pain to anyone, especially strangers, he dredged up a smile and a shrug. “Whatever works,” he said, dropping the subject.

  The float continued without incident after the women scrambled back into the raft, sodden but happy. Luke sighed with relief when they finally arrived at the landing site a few miles from the tour office.

  The bus was waiting for them, parked under a large tree near the bank of the river. Selena was also relieved to see the trip end, if only for the opportunity to part company with a certain too-attractive; and too-disturbing member of the party. Luke Branson unnerved her, undermined her self-confidence, and Selena took pride in never allowing herself to be unnerved or undermined by any man.

  With the combined efforts of Selena, Luke, the two guide trainees and a couple of the male tourists, the rafts and gear were quickly stowed onto the trailer attached to the bus. Selena was about to slip behind the wheel of the vehicle when she was gently but firmly moved aside.

  “You navigated the river,” Luke said before she had a chance to protest. “I’ll drive.”

  Without protest, Selena slipped onto the seat directly behind him and almost immediately wished she hadn’t. Due to the peculiar position of the bus, Luke had to practically manhandle the oversized vehicle as he backed it around to face the rutted dirt road leading away from the river.

  The effort he was forced to exert brought every one of his back, arm and shoulder muscles into play. Selena was fascinated by the smooth coordination of the thews and tendons beneath his sun-browned skin. The bus was air-conditioned, yet she began to perspire as her imagination took flight.

  Inside her mind, images formed of Luke’s hard mouth lavishing her soft lips, of his long, lean body gliding sensuously along the length of hers. The brief fantasy was so real, Selena thought she could actually feel his tongue glide into her mouth, his muscles and tendons contracting in reaction to the intensity of his passion.

  A burst of laughter from one of the men behind her brought Selena to her senses. She never fantasized about men! Shocked and embarrassed by the wayward wanderings of her mind, she sat up straight and firmly turned her gaze toward the window. Selena couldn’t recall ever feeling so glad to see the tour office as she was when Luke finally brought the lumbering vehicle to a halt before it.

  Then there was the confusion of everybody leaving the bus, with handshakes, thanks for a great time and shared laughter over the three women’s wet clothing. Finally, goodbyes were exchanged as the tourists went their separate ways. Giving a last wave, Selena turned to get back on the bus. There was still gear to be unloaded at the warehouse. The two younger guides were on the bus, and Luke was already behind the steering wheel. She had leaped onto the first step when Will shouted to them from the office doorway.

  “Hey! Hold up a minute.”

  Poking her head out the open door, Selena asked, “What’s up, Will? Trouble?”

  “Hell, no.” Will laughed. “At least, I hope not. After you guys unload, go home and get on your fancy duds. I’ll expect you at the restaurant by seven for the big celebration.”

  “What are we celebrating?” Selena asked with a smile, knowing full well that Will never needed a reason for a party.

  “An engagement,” Will said, grinning back at her. “Brenda told me this morning that she and Dave are going to bite the bullet and get married.”

  “Married!” Selena gaped at him in sheer astonishment “Are you serious?”

  “I am.” Will nodded. “And, from all indications, so are Brenda and Dave.”

  “What they are, is seriously crazy.”

  The unsolicited opinion came in a dry voice from the man seated behind the steering wheel.

  Though Selena agreed with Luke in principle, she resented his presumption and his tone of voice. Brenda was her friend, Selena fumed. And as a friend, she was allowed to consider Brenda’s decision precipitous and foolhardy. But Luke was an outsider and had no right to pass judgment. Narrowing her eyes, Selena slowly turned to pin him with a glittering stare.

  “Brenda and Dave just might be in love,” she said in a lowered voice that held dangerous overtones.

  “Sure,” Luke drawled, meeting her glare with cool detachment. “And those ancient mountains just might disappear by tomorrow morning.” He jerked his head to indicate the rugged spires of the Big Bend.

  Anger flared through Selena and flashed from her green eyes, yet she managed an icy tone. “Can I assume from your attitude that you will not be attending the celebration?”

  “You may assume anything you like,” Luke retorted. “But I wouldn’t miss the party for the world”

  Selena bared her teeth in a feral smile. “Too bad,” she muttered, swinging up onto the second step of the bus. “I was looking forward to having a good time.” Presenting her back to him, she strode to a seat midway back. Luke’s soft, taunting laughter stalked her every step of the way.

  Both the sound of his laughter and the word married haunted Selena.

  In a state of mild shock induced by the news of her friend’s sudden decision, Selena was able to ignore the welter of emotions Luke’s presence created inside her throughout the time required to unload the float gear. And she escaped to her car as soon as the job was completed.

  Selena had hoped to find Brenda at the house when she arrived home. She wasn’t there, but proof of her recent occupancy littered the place from the living room to Brenda’s bedroom. Thinking that unless her friend got her act together, she’d make a lousy homemaker, Selena collected the articles strewn from one end of the small house to the other.

  Homemaker. Selena shook her head in despair as the word echoed in her mind. Try as she would, Selena could no more imagine Brenda as a wife and homemaker than she could herself in the domestic role. The image just didn’t fit, somehow.

  Hot and tired, Selena flopped onto her bed to contemplate the unbelievable reality of the coming nuptials. Brenda of the glib wit and fierce independence—married? Impossible. Selena was very much afraid that her friend had succumbed to the effects of a mind-numbing night of fantastic sex.

  Selena grimaced and smothered a yawn with a. languid hand. She would have to talk with Brenda, she decided, giving in to the weight tugging on her eyelids. They needed to have a long, private, woman-to-woman, straight-from-the shoulder talk. The decision made, she sighed and drifted off to sleep.

  The restaurant and adjacent bar were packed when Selena arrived a little before eight o’clock. Music blared from Will’s prize
d antique jukebox. Squashed together on the small dance floor, couples gyrated to the rock-and-roll beat. And yet, in that crush of bodies, the first person Selena spotted was Luke.

  He was standing at the bar—rather, he was lazily draped against the bar, as he had been on the patio rail at Will’s house and against the counter in the tour office. And, exactly as it had before, the sight of him sent tingles of awareness and anticipation scurrying throughout her body.

  Selena resented the sensation and resented him for causing it. Irritated, she swept a disdainful glance over his lean form, from the tip of his boots to the neatly brushed, gleaming hair on his head.

  Luke was dressed much like most of the men in the place, in casual slacks and short-sleeved sport shirt. But the attire was where the similarity ended. The other men appeared nice and presentable. Luke was sexy and devastating. And he was looking intently at Selena.

  Had she parked her broom outside the door? The whimsical thought wandered through Luke’s mind as he stared at the woman poised inside the entrance. The sight of her turned his insides to molten liquid.

  She was wearing a sundress patterned in splashes of lilac and green on a white background. The full skirt swirled around her slender legs, and the snug-fitting bodice accentuated her enticing breasts. Her bare shoulders gleamed in the glow of the muted light.

  Her hair was loose again tonight. Freed from the braid the black waves cascaded over her shoulders and down her neck. A yearning to coil his fingers in those silky strands and curl them around his body, binding his naked form to hers, engulfed him, making his throat dry and his insides ache.

  Selena.

  Her name whispered through him, around him. Selena of the lithe body and cat-witch eyes and hair. His body reacted in the usual manner. Luke was glad he was propped against the bar, afraid that if he wasn’t, he’d double over. He wanted her. The wanting blazed from his eyes.