As she drove to work the next day, Beth made a firm decision. Avoid Luke whenever possible. There was way too much at risk, a risk that could have the potential to end in disaster.
With new resolve, she got through the day with barely a stray thought to the night before. Yet when she returned home and found dinner warming in the oven and Luke nowhere to be seen, it took all of a few seconds to realize he’d come to the same conclusion.
She wasn’t disappointed. No. That would be ridiculous. And anyway, she still saw him later that night, even if it was just in passing, where she couldn’t meet his eyes as she awkwardly thanked him for the meal. He nodded with a brief smile and kept right on going, gently closing his door with a soft click.
Still his presence overwhelmed, from the faint cologne that made her senses growl, to the cooked meals and painfully clean state of her kitchen. And with each passing day, the tension wound inexorably tighter until she was itching for something—anything—to happen.
Then it was Sunday night and they were both on their way to the Corellis’ in Beth’s car.
“Dylan called.” Luke finally broke the silence as they drove south on the Gold Coast Highway. “Looks like Foster withdrew big at a Coolangatta ATM then flew down to Melbourne.”
“Is he still there now?”
“As far as I know. He’s looking into it.”
Her stomach swooped, hope fluttering, but with a firm swallow Beth reined it in. Things were far from over. She shifted gears, trying to ignore the brush of her knuckles along Luke’s thigh. Her small car did nothing to maintain that distance she’d so determinedly forged these last few days. More irritating, the closer they got to the Corelli estate, the more her body hummed at the thought of Luke in touchable distance for the night.
They’d taken the Ashmore turnoff and were driving along Cotlew Road when Luke pointed to a parked news van ahead.
“Reporters. Take a left at the next corner.”
She did, and they passed a few double-storied houses, then a few gates until the road curved again.
“Here.” Luke nodded.
They parked on the side of the road and switched off the lights. The street was quiet, streetlamps casting a dim glow in the evening’s warmth as upper-class suburbia sprawled on the opposite side. Next to the car, a long, high, brick wall stretched down the road, flanked by trees that swayed and rustled, a ghostly whisper as the wind picked up. All around, the vegetation muttered and moved in the night. Above, black clouds rolled in like waves on a beach. A storm was brewing.
“This is the back end of the estate. We can get in over there.” Luke pointed to a large tree. “But we need to climb. Feel up to it?”
Beth looked down at her tailored pants and soft sparkly shift top and nodded.
As they picked their way through the grass and uneven ground, Luke automatically took her hand, tightening his grip when she stumbled. She barely had time to catch her breath before he let her go and began boosting himself up into the tree.
She looked up skeptically at the outspread branches. “You sure this is safe?”
“Who do you think hammered the wooden rungs into the trunk? Frankly, I’m surprised Marco hasn’t chopped the tree down. Or at least taken the steps off.”
He held out his hand, wriggling his fingers in encouragement.
It seemed perfectly natural to put her trust in him. They climbed the tree slowly, finally reaching a branch that overhung the wall. He placed one foot on the brick surface then turned to her.
“Come on,” he gestured. “Come over.”
Beth took a deep breath and went for it.
Her heart pounded as she broke out in a sweat. Then she took that step into thin air, just before he grabbed her and pulled her tightly to him.
She took a couple of gulping breaths.
“You okay?”
Beth nodded into the warmth of his chest, breathing in his smell. His arms were a reassuring harbor and slowly her panic petered out.
“I’ll go down first, then you jump and I’ll catch you.”
Beth glanced around, seeing a large estate with glowing night-lights sprawled on the crest of the hill, the perimeter dotted with security lamps. Then she looked down and choked out a nervous laugh. “I’d like to see you try that one.”
“You and me both, sweetheart.”
A man stepped out of the shadows, accompanied by two beefy security guards.
Luke, to his credit, looked unflappable. “Be a sport and help us down, Marco.”
The man laughed sharply then took a drag of his cigarette. “I don’t think so. I want to see you manage this one.”
Luke gave Marco a scowl, muttered something under his breath then said to Beth, “Hold on. I’m going down.”
He lowered himself until his legs were dangling over the edge, then tested the brick and concrete below with his foot. Finding a hold, he settled his toe into the worn hole and slowly picked his way down until he was nearly to the ground. With one push, he jumped the rest of the way.
Beth released her held breath as he landed solidly with both feet. He gave her a grin and a thumbs-up. “Jump down and I’ll catch you.”
She shook her head. “No. You can’t.”
“I will,” he said, exasperated. “Just jump.”
“Come on,” Marco said as he ground his half-finished cigarette underfoot. “We haven’t got all night.”
Beth sighed. “I warned you.” And she squatted on her heels, took a breath and jumped off the wall.
With a whoosh and a grunt, she landed on Luke. He stumbled, wavering, and she tightened her arms around his neck.
His legs buckled and they ended up sprawling on the grass.
Marco roared with laughter and gave a slow clap. “Well done, Luke! Super catch!”
Beth had a death hold on Luke’s neck, her eyes squeezed shut.
“You can look now,” Luke murmured.
Her eyes flew open. “Thanks.”
“You got a problem with the front door?” Marco was asking as Luke helped Beth up.
“No. Just a problem with the reporters.” And he started toward the house.
Marco nodded a dismissal to the security guys then followed Luke, matching him stride for stride. “So the press are finally getting to you.” His voice held the gruff resonance of frustration. “Now you know how it feels.”
Luke gave a noncommittal grunt. Marco, meanwhile, slowly turned to peruse Beth with hooded eyes.
The eyes and height were Luke’s, but that’s where the resemblance ended. Marco Corelli was dressed in a light linen suit and cotton shirt, dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that emphasized a stunningly beautiful angular face, complete with sharp cheekbones and sensual mouth.
Beth blinked, frowning. “You look familiar—have we met before?”
“Pretty sure I’d have remembered, bella.” Marco winked.
At Luke’s sharp look, Marco laughed. “Relax, mate. I’m just winding you up.” He turned back to Beth and grinned, offering his hand. “Marco Corelli. And you are …?”
“Beth. Beth Jones.”
“Marco plays football for Manchester United,”