It Was Only a Kiss Read online

  ‘Then maybe you and Grant can get back together?’ Patrick suggested. ‘I saw him last week. He was asking about you.’

  A chorus of approval followed his suggestion and Luke felt his teeth grinding in the back of his jaw.

  ‘He isn’t seeing anyone else,’ Chris commented. ‘We took him out for a beer and he was crying into it, saying that you were the best thing that ever happened to him. Can’t understand it myself, but there you are.’

  ‘He’s a nice guy, Jess,’ John agreed.

  Jess sent Luke a look of abject misery and mortification. He now knew what she’d meant when she’d said that her family didn’t respect her privacy and that they had no concept of emotional boundaries.

  Patrick waved his wine glass in the air. ‘And he’s a mean fly half. If he’s prepared to forgive her for being so anal then she should consider giving him another chance.’

  Clem shook her head at Kate. ‘For a doctor, your husband can be extraordinarily thick on occasion.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ Kate grumbled.

  Jess pushed her chair back and stumbled to her feet. Luke saw the white ring of pain around her mouth and knew that she was at her limit—physically and probably mentally—and certainly not up to dealing with her family. When she swayed on her feet his protective streak flashed white-hot, and he was out of his chair to catch her as her knees buckled. He’d been wrong. She was way past her limit.

  ‘Okay, that’s enough,’ he said in a hard voice.

  Luke wound his arm around her waist and felt Jess’s arms creep around him. He looked at each of her brothers in turn.

  ‘God, you lot are a piece of work. Can’t you see that she’s not up to dealing with your crap? She’s got ten stitches in her leg and she’s battered and bruised.’

  His glare had Patrick’s retort dying on his lips.

  ‘Jess and I—hell, I don’t even know what’s what between us. But—’ he looked at Liza ‘—it is between us. And the next person who mentions her going back to that waste of oxygen she caught screwing another woman, in her bed, will get his ass kicked. By me.’ Luke lifted his hand to cradle Jess’s head against his chest. ‘I am taking Jess home. She’s had more than enough. She’ll see you in the morning—if she’s feeling up to it.’

  Luke guided Jess out of the room and a silent Sherwood family watched them leave.

  Nick broke the shocked silence that followed. ‘Well, well, well. Jess has finally found a man who has a bigger set than she does. Good for her and it’s about time. Pass that wine, Grandma, you’re hogging it.’

  * * *

  For the second night in a row Jess slept in Luke’s bed—in the proper sense of the word. There had been no euphemisms involved because shortly after carrying her up the stairs he’d handed her some painkillers and bustled her into bed. Her head had barely hit the pillow and she was asleep.

  Sexy she was not.

  Jess rolled over as she smelt coffee and swallowed saliva as Luke walked into the room, dressed in nothing more than a low-slung towel over his slim hips. Lord, he had a beautiful body...

  He smiled down at her as he put the cup of coffee on the bedside table. Jess sat up and squinted at the clock. It was just past nine—an unusual time for Luke to be showering.

  ‘When I came back from the lands your brothers were about to go for a run and invited me to join them,’ Luke explained, sitting on the bed next to her. ‘Obviously it was a test. Competitive bunch, aren’t they?’

  Jess groaned. ‘Sorry. Did they go all he-man on you?’

  ‘Well, they did try to outpace me.’ Luke smiled into his coffee cup. ‘I managed to keep up.’

  Jess took her cup and winced when her injuries brushed the bedclothes. ‘If you beat Patrick I’ll kiss you senseless.’

  ‘I beat Patrick. I ran twenty-three-ten.’

  Jess’s jaw dropped open. ‘You beat them all?’

  Luke looked like the cat who ate the cream. ‘I whipped them all.’

  ‘Woo-hoo!’ Jess shouted with glee. ‘You are the man!’

  Jess settled back on the pillows and after a minute or so smiled at Luke. ‘You know that you’re going to have to marry me now, don’t you?’

  Luke spluttered tiny drops of coffee over his white towel. ‘What?’

  Jess patted his knee. ‘By standing up for me last night, you—in my mother’s eyes at least—practically declared your intentions. As I speak, she’s probably planning our wedding.’

  ‘God, families are complicated,’ Luke complained. ‘And yours is, I suspect, more complicated than most.’

  ‘I’m the youngest child—a daughter with four older protective brothers.’

  ‘Who threatened to cut off my balls if I hurt you,’ Luke told her.

  ‘Oh, grief, they didn’t?’ Jess blew air into her cheeks. ‘Of course they did... Sorry. Did they thump their chests as well?’

  Luke grinned. ‘Yep. Then they spent the rest of the run deciding what to do about your ex. Concrete shoes were mentioned.’

  ‘Their anger will blow off and then they’ll just ignore him. I hope.’ Jess sipped her coffee. ‘I’m sorry. I know that they are impossible and in-your-face. I’ll understand if you want to keep your distance from them...’

  Luke placed his hand on the other side of her stretched out legs and leaned on it. ‘I haven’t had much to do with large families, Jess—hell, with any families. I don’t know how to act, what to do... Last night I was nervous as anything.’

  ‘Seriously? You didn’t look it.’

  ‘Practice. My legs were bouncing under the table.’

  Jess heard the insecurity in his voice and felt her heart jump into her throat. ‘You just need to be who you are, do what you do. Don’t worry about my mother and her machinations. If your little speech last night didn’t get through to her, she knows that I can’t and won’t be forced into anything. So, what do you think about the fact that my dad knew your mom?’

  Jess felt his mood shift from relaxed to wary.

  ‘I guess the art world in the seventies was smaller than I supposed.’

  ‘Are you going to try to track down your aunt?’

  Luke lifted his head to look at her. ‘Why should I?’

  Why should he? Jess frowned. ‘Luke, she could tell you about your mother.’

  Luke’s face hardened. ‘I know all I need to about Katelyn. She was a really good artist who decided she didn’t want me any more. Then she died.’

  The lack of emotion in his voice whipped at Jess’s soul. It spoke of hurt and betrayal buried deep. ‘Your aunt could explain—’

  ‘I’m thirty-six years old. She must’ve known about me. She’s had thirty-plus years to find me and explain,’ Luke shot back. ‘It’s not like we went anywhere.’

  His tone told her to leave the subject alone and Jess backed off. They’d just got back onto an even keel. She didn’t want to argue with him and risk upsetting that.

  Muscles rippled in Luke’s torso as he leaned forward and gently touched her chin with the tips of his fingers. ‘How are you feeling?’

  Jess licked her lips at the passion slumbering in his eyes. ‘Good. Much better.’

  Luke moved forward and slipped his hand around her neck. ‘Then did I hear you say something about kissing me senseless? Especially since I whipped your brothers?’

  ‘I might have said that,’ Jess whispered as his head dropped. She sighed when his lips met hers in a kiss that was as simple as it was devastating. She wanted more than just a kiss. She wanted him in every way.

  Luke’s tongue tangled with hers and she reached out her hand and patted his waist, finding the towel and tugging.

  Luke pulled back and sent her a look full of regret and frustration. ‘Sweetheart, we can’t. Your leg.’

  Jess tugged again. ‘You’ll be careful of me. I trust you,’ she said against his mouth. ‘I’m tired of just sleeping in your bed, Savage.’

  Luke covered her as his towel fell open. ‘Well, when you put it li
ke that...’

  TEN

  Jess stood at the kitchen sink in the manor house, washing dishes and watching Luke, Owen and Kendall taking her brothers on at touch rugby on the swathe of lawn just beyond the window. Luke looked happy, Jess thought. He was dirty and sweaty, but laughing at the creative insults her brothers traded on a regular basis.

  Jess felt a feminine hand on her back and smiled at Clem. ‘Hi.’

  ‘Hi, back. Why are you hiding out in the kitchen?’

  Jess lifted one shoulder. ‘I needed a break.’ She looked at Nick’s partner and said a quiet thank-you to Nick for bringing such a wonderful woman into their family, her life. She adored her sisters-in-law but, despite not knowing Clem for very long, felt closest to the ex-model and socialite.

  ‘Are you okay, Jess?’

  Jess pushed her hair off her forehead with the back of her wrist and shrugged. ‘Yes...no...confused.’

  ‘Luke?’

  ‘Who else?’ Jess looked out of the window. ‘He’s got baggage, Clem...’

  ‘Don’t we all, sweetie? You have a frequently impossible family and a strong independent streak. I had no idea who I was or what I wanted before I met Nick. I was the ultimate spoilt princess.’ Clem leaned her bottom against the counter next to Jess and crossed her long, slim legs. ‘None of us is perfect, Jess-jess.’

  ‘And he doesn’t want a relationship. What did he say to me...? He doesn’t want to have to “handle” any woman.’

  ‘Ouch. And do you want a relationship with him?’

  ‘Kind of.’ Jess gave Clem a rueful smile. ‘I’ve fallen in love with him. When Luke stood up for me to my brothers last night I knew that he was the man for me.’

  ‘Yeah, I realised that too. He’s strong enough, secure enough, smart enough—perfect for you.’

  Clem just got it. Jess didn’t need to explain that she felt Luke was the flipside of her coin. Strong enough to lean on, masculine enough for her to enjoy, even flaunt her femininity, with enough tenderness to balance out his machismo.

  This was what love felt like, Jess realised. Like a multi-layered, delightful cake, each layer rewarding in its own right. Attraction that ignited a low hum in her womb whenever he looked at her, a touch that chased sexual shivers up her spine, a dry sense of humour and a sneaky intelligence that kept her off guard.

  He was her perfect fit—except...

  ‘Except he isn’t interested. Not in permanence, commitment, marriage or any possible combination or permutation of the above.’ Wasn’t it just so typical that when she finally found someone she was prepared to fall in love with he was unavailable and uninterested?

  Clem rubbed her shoulder with her hand in a gesture that was as sweet as it was comforting. Jess told Clem about the disastrous shoot earlier in the week and her part in it.

  ‘I really wanted a family scene, but I can’t—won’t—put Luke through that again.’

  Clem looked at her for a long minute, held up a finger and walked away. Within a couple of minutes she was back, a hand-held camcorder in her hand. Clem nodded to the window and handed Jess the camcorder. ‘There’s your family scene, Jess. Film it.’

  Jess looked out and saw what Clem was getting at. There were the Sherwood wives—gorgeous and relaxed, wine glasses in hand, talking furiously—sitting on a patch of grass to the side of the mock rugby pitch. Jess lifted the camera and zoomed in, then tracked the outline of the manor house onto the veranda, where her father sat in an easy chair, a sketchpad and John’s three-year-old on his lap, directing his hand as he drew. Liza had a sleeping baby in her arms and was watching the rugby.

  Jess panned the camera over the table between them: St Sylve wine bottles and half-filled glasses, an open book lying face-down, a baby’s pacifier, a colouring book and crayons, a half-empty bowl of the apple crumble they’d had for pudding...

  Jess went to Luke, hands on his thighs, his face turned away. He looked happy, she thought, relaxed—as she’d wanted to catch him the other day. Enjoying himself, having fun.

  Jess carried on filming and her mouth curved into a delighted smile. ‘You, Clem Campbell, are a genius.’

  Clem looked at her nails and smiled. ‘I know, but feel free to remind Nick.’

  * * *

  Luke followed the massive Sherwood clan to their hired cars and hung back as Jess kissed and hugged her family goodbye. The days had passed quickly, and Luke realised that he’d had more fun than he’d had in ages with her family. He hadn’t had much time to himself or with Jess, and neither of them had got any work done, but he was okay with that. He felt as if he’d had a mini-holiday without leaving his house.

  He’d taken them all over the farm, explained the wine-making process to her father and brothers, discussed the history of the property with Jess’s mother and grandmother. He’d exercised with her brothers in the gym, been sketched by her father, taken the kids for rides on his dirt bike and tractor.

  And now he was being thanked and hugged and kissed. Luke bent down so that Jess’s tiny grandmother could kiss him goodbye, and then turned to shake her father’s hand.

  ‘Thank you for your hospitality, Luke,’ David said. ‘Look after my girl.’

  ‘It’s not like that...’ Luke replied, feeling a cord tighten around his neck.

  David’s warm brown eyes laughed at him. ‘Yeah, right.’

  Liz elbowed her husband out of the way and tucked a piece of paper into Luke’s shirt pocket and patted it. ‘The name of your aunt and her address. I have an old university friend who had the details. Go talk to her.’

  Uh, no. Thank you anyway.

  ‘Take care of my baby.’ Liza kissed him on one cheek and then the other.

  The cord tightened. He had a break when the wives kissed and hugged him, and then there were the brothers, standing in one solid line, identical scowls on their faces. He looked around for Jess but she’d run back into the house to fetch a book her grandmother had left behind.

  John pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and slowly opened it. ‘As the oldest, it behooves me−’

  ‘Behooves?’ Patrick snorted.

  ‘Shut up, squirt. It behooves me to establish whether you are worthy of Jess.’

  Luke rolled his eyes. Really? Were they really going to pull this?

  ‘Super 14 Rugby. Who do you support?’

  ‘Really? This is what is important?’ Luke felt insulted on Jess’s behalf.

  John ploughed on. ‘Man United or Chelsea?’

  ‘Liverpool,’ Luke replied, just to be facetious.

  ‘Do you drink and drive?’

  No.

  ‘Are you an aggressive drunk?’

  No again.

  ‘Do you cook?’

  Yes, thank God, since Jess had the cooking skills of a tortoise.

  ‘Do you understand the African tradition of lobola?’

  Huh? What?

  Luke frowned and Nick grinned. ‘You know—paying the family for the honour of their daughter’s hand in marriage?’

  He looked across at David, who just smiled and shrugged. ‘They negotiate for me.’

  Luke folded his arms and kept quiet, scowling fiercely. Good God, what had he done so wrong in his life, or in a previous life, that warranted this?

  ‘We want fifteen cases of that outstanding Merlot 2005, use of the manor house for family holidays, and Dad wants a breeding pair of silky bantam chickens,’ John explained.

  Luke threw up his hands. ‘Chickens? You’ve got to be kidding me!’

  ‘I wanted goats, but Liza put her foot down,’ David replied.

  ‘Good grief,’ Luke said faintly, and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Listen, I hope this is your sick idea of a joke, because this is the most absurd conversation. I am not—we are not—talking or thinking about marriage. I don’t want to get married!’

  Chris grinned. ‘None of us did, dude! But here we all are...’

  Jess darted out of the house, book in hand, and immediately, Luke n
oticed, her brothers feigned innocence.

  John gripped his hand and squeezed. Hard. ‘You hurt her, you answer to us.’

  Luke wished he could brush off his words as chest-thumping, but he knew they were deadly serious. If he messed Jess around he would be fish food. He shook Chris’s and Patrick’s hands, lost the feeling in his fingers again and resisted the impulse to nurse it before turning to Nick.

  He scowled at Jess’s favourite brother. ‘Yeah, yeah...I get it. Don’t mess with Jess.’

  Nick shook his head and put his arm around Clem’s waist. ‘I was just going to wish you luck. You’re going to need it, dealing with that brat.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Luke replied fervently. At least someone was on his side.

  Nick slapped him on the shoulder before shaking—squeezing, ow, dammit!—his hand. ‘But she sheds one tear over you and I’ll stake you to an anthill.’

  Nice, Luke thought.

  He watched the cars disappear down the drive and looked at Jess, whose eyes were fixed on the backs of the vehicles. He caught the expression crossing her face as she jammed her hands into the front pockets of her jeans and watched them leave...a little sadness, a little relief. She was a strong, independent woman, but her family were her rock, he realised, her north star, the wind that helped her fly. While they occasionally irritated and frustrated her, she adored them, and she also missed them...

  Being here, with him, at St Sylve, deprived her of them. It was just another reason in a long list of reasons why they could never be together long-term. She needed that family atmosphere and he couldn’t—wouldn’t—provide it for her.

  Besides, even if they wanted to continue their...whatever it was, how would it work? Practically? Logistically? His life was here on St Sylve. Hers was across the country. She had a successful business based in another city—one that she’d sweated blood and tears to establish. He couldn’t imagine giving up St Sylve, so he knew that to ask her to give up Jess Sherwood Concepts would be deeply unfair.

  What was he going to do about her? He’d never intended to become involved with a woman again, but Jess, being Jess, had become more than a fling, more than a quick and casual affair. He couldn’t allow himself to get any more attached to her than he already was. It would be easier to have open-heart surgery without anaesthetic than to risk loving someone and having them leave him.