murmured Luke. But he didn’t move away, and neither did she.
‘Any more questions?’ she said.
‘Yeah.’ Luke’s lips twisted into a wry smile as his eyes grew intent. He still had his elbows resting on the Formica table. So did Madeline. But their faces were close, close enough that it would only take the tilt of her head and a slight forward movement to make their mouths meet. ‘Are you sure you don’t want that kiss?’
‘Now why would I want to kiss you,’ she murmured, ‘when you don’t even like me?’
‘Beats me,’ he said. ‘Do it anyway.’
He had the knack of making Maddy want things she shouldn’t. Like lips against hers, firm and knowing. Like being cradled in the arms of a warrior who could make her see only the moment, and to hell with the life choices that surrounded it. How
did
one approach desire when they weren’t intending to exploit it? Maddy didn’t know.
She wanted to know.
With her elbows still firmly resting on the table, Madeline eased closer and set her mouth to Luke’s.
She didn’t rush to taste him, content for the momentwith the feel of firm lips barely touching hers. Such fleeting contact. So blindingly perfect. Luke’s scent wrapped around her and the heat in him shuddered through her as she closed her eyes and touched the tip of her tongue to that firm upper lip the better to taste him.
He didn’t rush her. He simply let her play at exploring his lips, the shape and texture of them. A man of patience and timing, Luke Bennett, as finally, when she was just about to pull back, he turned his body towards her, and opened the way to deeper exploration. The slide of his tongue against hers, savouring and sensual. The hitch of his breath as she savoured him in turn. Then a ragged curse as his hand came up to sink into her hair and cradle the back of her head as he deepened the kiss.
Focused, so utterly focused on the moment and on her. Reckless with what he gave away. Passion to savour, passion to burn, as reality faded away beneath the radiance of this man making love to her mouth.
‘How old were you?’ Luke murmured as his lips finally left hers, rendering her bereft and craving more of him. More kisses, more contact, more pleasure. ‘How old were you when you married him, Maddy? Did you even
know
what you were giving up?’
‘Old enough.’ She kissed him one last time, slow and deep, craving oblivion. Wishing she could be what this man so obviously wanted her to be. Young. Naive. Innocent. But she’d never been any of those things, she’d never had the luxury, and he needed to know and accept that.
If he could.
Slowly, reluctantly, Madeline pulled out of the kiss and put some distance between them. The table for starters.And then the truth. ‘And, yes, I knew full well what I was doing when I forfeited love and passion for wealth and security. I’ve never regretted paying the price. I wish …’ How she wished she could have brought a bright and shiny past to this man’s table. But she couldn’t. Pointless to wish that things could have been different. ‘Never mind.’
Madeline watched in silence as Luke cursed and turned away.
‘I can’t,’ he said, and shook his head as if to clear it. ‘I don’t …’
‘Don’t what? Don’t even like me?’ She tried to make light of it. ‘I get that a lot.’
‘
Don’t
put words in my mouth.’ He sent her a searing golden glare. ‘I like you plenty.’
‘Maybe. But you wish to hell you didn’t,’ she added, and her smile was one she’d perfected over the years, cool and mocking, mocking them both. ‘I get that a lot too.’
CHAPTER THREE
L UKE didn’t try to argue against her second statement, and Maddy gave him points for honesty. She gave him more points for staying right where he was as he fought to bring the rawness of their encounter back into line with what was civilised and polite and socially acceptable.
‘Here’s the thing, Luke Bennett,’ she said softly. ‘You think you