Finally, when she could no longer avoid the inevitable, she shoved everything back into her clutch bag and left the bathroom, praying Luke Sullivan had ridden off into the sunset on his big black hog. Maybe then she could start enjoying the evening.
Following the sounds of the band, she exchanged a few greetings with other guests on their way back to the ballroom and paused in the doorway as Jenna and Greg took to the floor for the newlyweds’ dance.
It was a beautiful moment and she couldn’t help feeling a little envious of the way Greg looked at his new bride. The couple practically glowed with happiness, reminding Lilah she hadn’t had anything resembling a date in over two years.
The dance ended to hoots and cheers as the couple shared a heated embrace. Without pausing, the band segued into another song and the little pinch of envy became a sharp ache of emptiness as Jenna’s father stepped onto the dance floor. He tapped Greg’s shoulder then swept his daughter into his arms with a look of such pride and love that Lilah felt tears prick the backs of her eyes.
This was a moment she would never experience for herself. And though she tried to shove them back into hiding, all the old feelings of resentment and abandonment she hadn’t felt since adolescence came rushing back.
Right there in the midst of celebration she was sucked back to her mother’s death and the letter telling Lilah about her father.
It had taken her almost a year to get past the grief and anger following the plane crash that had killed her mother to summon the courage to open it. Sometimes Lilah wished she never had—wished she didn’t know about her mother’s summer internship at a prestigious Seattle law firm or her wild romance with the married son of the firm’s founding partner. Life would have been so much simpler.
When twenty-two-year-old Grace Meredith had revealed she was pregnant, Rowan Franklin had been furious. He’d accused her of trying to ruin his life and his career, and then he’d offered her money.
Her mother hadn’t exactly said it had been for a termination, but Lilah wasn’t stupid. She could read between the lines. Even at sixteen she’d known her father had paid Grace to have an abortion then kicked her to the curb like an unwanted pet.
She clearly remembered hopping on an intercity bus with plans to confront him. Lilah snorted silently. She didn’t know what she’d expected, but to a girl who’d dreamed of the day she would meet him, Rowan Franklin III had been handsome and dazzling as a movie star. She recalled being struck dumb in his presence as a chaotic mix of anger and desperate hope filled her.
Unfortunately, he’d been no happier to see her then than he’d been the day her mother had dropped the baby bombshell. He’d checked his watch and listened impatiently while she’d introduced herself and explained about her mother’s death. When she’d finished, he’d walked to his desk, pulled out his checkbook, and without once looking in her direction he’d coldly asked how much it would take for her to go away.
She’d been devastated. With one stroke of his ten-thousand-dollar gold pen he’d destroyed a young girl’s fragile dreams as easily as he’d signed his name.
So she’d reacted badly.
Lilah huffed out a silent laugh. Okay, badly was an understatement. She’d flung scathing insults in his smug, handsome face and when he’d looked her in the eye and denied being her father, she’d snatched some fancy glass paperweight along with several family photographs from his desk and hurled them at the wall of glass cabinets behind him. The destruction had been as satisfying as it had been horrifying. Even to this day she couldn’t believe what she’d done.
White-faced with fury, he’d stalked over, grabbed her arm in a bruising grip and dragged her to the door. Then he’d slapped the check in her hand and warned that if she ever contacted him or tried to blackmail him again, he would have her arrested.
She’d walked into that lavishly appointed corner office a nervous, eager child with dreams of finding a father who’d been searching for his daughter and had left with her heart and pride in tatters. She’d also left determined never to let anyone close enough to hurt her again.
That meeting had cured her of any “daddy” issues she might have had. And just in case she forgot, she’d kept that uncashed check of twenty-five thousand dollars as a reminder that she had to rely on herself and that some men made promises they never intended to keep.
Lost in the past, she didn’t notice someone come up behind her until a deep voice drawled, “Don’t tell me you buy into all this sappy stuff, wild thing?”
Startled, Lilah sucked in a sharp breath and rounded on him. “Will you stop sneaking up on me?” she snapped, slapping a shaking hand over her pounding heart. “And stop calling me that.” Besides, she didn’t want to be anything like her mother.
Luke shoved his hands in his pockets and hiked a dark brow up his forehead as though she was acting crazy. Lilah felt a little crazy. He made her crazy, dammit.
“Lady, you’re either in hearts-and-roses land or you need another glass of champagne.” He snagged one from a passing waiter and shoved it at her. “Here, maybe this will help.”
Lilah stepped back and looked at the glass like it might bite her. Frankly, the last thing she needed was another glass of champagne. Muttering something, she swung away to watch as other couples began drifting onto the dance floor. Maybe if she ignored him long enough he’d get the hint and go away.
But, of course, he didn’t. That would be asking too much, Lilah thought furiously. Instead, he chuckled deep in his chest and leaned closer, the heat of his big body sending awareness shivering into every strand of DNA.
His deep voice held more than a hint of amusement when he asked, “Did you just say the only way champagne will help is if I drown in it, Dr. Meredith?”
Lilah fought the embarrassment heating her cheeks and inhaled slowly to give herself time to get a grip. But that only gave her a head full of his amazing scent. Besides, she hadn’t meant for him to hear that. Had she?
She finally ground out, “Of course not,” through clenched teeth and tried to edge away, but the darned man had practically herded her into a corner. She couldn’t escape without drawing attention to herself, and after the past twenty four hours, attention was the last thing she wanted. “I would never be so rude.”
He gave another chuckle as though he didn’t believe her, and lifted his hand to play with the soft curls at her nape before drawing a light fingertip down her spine to the zipper tab. His touch, so deliberately casual, sent goose bumps fleeing across her flesh, and to Lilah’s absolute horror, could be felt all the way to her tingling toes. Her belly clenched, her nipples tightened, and this time she didn’t even have the benefit of her little jacket to hide her visceral response.
She hitched her shoulder to dislodge his touch and tried to move away but the man obviously had a hard head if he could ignore such obvious go-away signals. Instead, he dropped his hand to her hip and pulled her back against his chest.
She gasped and tried to jerk away but his fingers tightened. Heat instantly spread up to her nape and down to the backs of her knees—and, heck, everywhere in between. “What are you doing?” she demanded in a low voice, and tried to turn, but his palm slid across her jittering belly and pressed her against his front.
Lilah froze at the unexpected intimacy of his embrace. “You haven’t answered my question,” Luke reminded her against her ear, his thumb idly brushing warmed silk. His deep voice vibrated against her back like the rumble of distant thunder—or maybe a huge satisfied cat after eating a fat pigeon.
She sucked in a shivery breath and tried not to feel like a frightened pigeon. It was humiliating enough to discover how threatened she felt, especially when his touch heated up all the lonely places in her body that hadn’t seen action in way too long.