Chapter Sixteen
Luka felt her stir in his arms.
Soon Maya would wake, whereas he hadn’t slept.
What the hell had he been thinking?
In his suspicious world, where everyone had an ulterior motive, Luka left nothing to chance.
And yet last night he had.
Early in his career, before he’d moved into probate he had sat with many a wealthy client and been told ‘But she said she was on the Pill.’
Schmuck , Luka would privately think.
All that had been said between them last night replayed in his head as he lay there.
No, Luka didn’t possess a funny bone; he was a skeptic to the core.
He’d had to be to survive.
At boarding school when his mother had told him that of course he could come with her to Italy at Easter, he’d made backup plans just in case. And when his father had said that he’d be there for Parents’ Day, Luka had assumed otherwise.
He had always been right to mistrust them.
Over and over he had been shown that people lied and manipulated for gain.
He had the black heart to prove it.
Even as he lay holding her, on went his attorney’s hat and he thought back on their time.
She was broke and trying to break away from her family, oh and a virgin who just happened to be on the Pill.
Please!
And she’d even asked if he’d ever considered selling the house.
Yes, Maya had chosen wisely indeed.
After years of eternal vigilance finally, Luka decided, the schmuck was he.
*
As Maya slowly awoke for a moment she wondered if yesterday had been a dream. But, unlike a dream, where the images start to disperse as you awake, these ones grew clearer.
She could feel the weight of Luka’s arm over her and hear the thud of his heart beneath her ear as she recalled their night together.
Yesterday she had woken assuming that the day was going to be a tough one, and yet it had turned out to be her best.
Her hand explored the crinkly hair on his stomach, and even though she had to be up to ride Turn On A Dime, Maya wanted whatever time she had left with Luka.
Her hand crept down his firm stomach and she felt his breath quicken.
She looked up, expecting those delicious black eyes to greet her and for a private smile as they kissed.
Instead she woke to a stranger.
His hand caught hers just as she reached for him and he moved it back up to his stomach.
‘I have to go,’ Luka told her.
He said it as he might speak to a client, but then Luka cleared his throat.
‘Not yet.’ She smiled.
Luka didn’t return it. In truth, he was conflicted. In his head he had turned her into some sort of devil but her eyes were as clear and as inviting as the ones that had held his last night.
As her fingers had dusted his morning erection he had been tempted to forget his own dark thoughts for a while and start the morning the way their bodies were attuned for.
But that would not be fair.
‘Maya, I really do have to go.’ He let go of her hand, sat up in the bed and reached for his clothes. ‘And you need to exercise the horse before the transport arrives.’
Maya blinked.
All of that made perfect sense, but it was his voice that chilled her. She could see the tension in his back as he sat at the edge of the bed and dressed and stood.
When she’d first seen him he had been dressed immaculately.
Today his clothes were crumpled and he was unshaven and brooding; he looked more beautiful than ever, yet so distant.
‘I hope things work out well for you,’ Luka said, and even he was aware that it sounded as if he was concluding a meeting.
‘Are you going to shake my hand?’ Maya responded and despite his black thoughts, Luka fought not to let out a reluctant laugh as she addressed his cool demeanor.
‘No,’ he said, but when he should have bent down and kissed her he told her his surname.
‘Genovese.’
‘Sorry?’ Maya checked.
‘Genovese is my surname. It will make things easier on you if you need to look me up. Though you already know where I live.’
‘Why would I need to do that, Luka? We both know this was a one-night stand.’
‘In case of consequences.’
‘Consequences?’ Maya frowned and then it dawned on her what he meant. ‘I already told you, I’m on…’ She didn’t get to finish; instead Maya heard a cold deep voice that, in court, would wither even the fearless.
‘We call that “She Said” in my line of work.’
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