‘So you’ve never spent any time in the country?’
‘The occasional weekend. Nothing much.’
She smiled at him. ‘You’ll have to come back with me some time. I’ll show you some of my favourite places.’
‘Are you asking me on a date, Sara?’
For a second, she couldn’t breathe. The air felt as if it were crackling with electricity—even though the sky was a clear blue and there wasn’t so much as a single wispy white cloud, let alone purple-grey storm clouds.
A date.
She’d meant it as a throwaway but genuine offer. To share some of her favourite places and spread a little sunshine into his life.
But it could be construed a different way. That she’d just asked him out.
Her heart skipped a beat.
Would he accept?
Another missed beat.
Did she want him to accept?
The world suddenly felt precarious, and she backtracked. Fast. ‘Not a date date. An offer to a friend—because I like you, and I think we could be friends.’
‘What, even though you boss me about?’
She was relieved that he’d slipped back into teasing banter. That, she could cope with. ‘Hey, I’ll have to be bossy if I’m navigating.’
‘What about sat nav?’ he countered.
‘You can’t beat local knowledge.’
‘True. Point to you.’ He regarded her seriously. ‘The way you see life…everyone’s a potential friend until proven otherwise, aren’t they?’
She thought about it. ‘I suppose so,’ she admitted. It was the way she’d been brought up—around people who loved her and always showed their affection.
‘Don’t you get disappointed?’ he asked.
‘Not often.’ She had with Hugh, but he was the exception that proved the rule. ‘Are you saying that you see everyone as a potential enemy, then?’
‘Hardly. I’m not the paranoid type.’
‘But you don’t let people close.’
He shrugged. ‘It makes life much less complicated.’
It also made life lonely, she thought. Not that there was any point in saying so. She had a feeling that Luke would claim he didn’t need anyone and that his life was just fine as it was. ‘You see the glass as half empty, then?’
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘It’s obvious you see it as half full. I’d say it’s simply half a glass. Telling it as it is, no flowery description.’
His words were light, but she could hear the warning signal: she might want to be friends, but he’d keep her at a distance. She kept the conversation completely impersonal for the rest of their lunch break, telling him what she knew about the history of the church, and he seemed to relax again with her. And, although Luke spent most of the afternoon either on the phone or in meetings, he was back at his desk just before she left the office for the evening.
‘Sara?’
‘Uh-huh?’ She glanced up from her computer and was rewarded with a smile that did actually reach his eyes. A smile that did seriously odd things to her insides.
‘I just wanted to say thanks. For sharing that garden with me today.’
‘Pleasure.’ And it warmed her that he’d enjoyed it. ‘See you tomorrow.’
‘Yeah. Have a nice evening.’
‘You, too.’ On the surface, it was polite office chit-chat. Though Luke wasn’t the sort to do chit-chat. He was always charming, but she knew he hated wasting a single second. So the fact he’d bothered to thank her and wish her a nice evening… Maybe he was learning to trust her. Opening up to her just that little bit.
Though Sara was completely thrown the next morning, when she walked in to find a beautiful bouquet of roses on her desk, all pink and cream. ‘What’s this?’
‘You made me stop and smell the roses yesterday. I thought I’d do the same for you today,’ he said. His smile was just the wrong side of wicked. ‘A thanks for helping me out.’
She shrugged. ‘Strictly speaking, you’re my client. You’re paying me to help you out.’
‘If you had the builders in, you’d make them tea and bring them cake and make a fuss of them so they did a good job for you, yes?’
‘Ye-es.’ Where was he going with this?
‘Same thing,’ he said. ‘Except you’re not a builder. You’re a girl.’
‘You noticed?’ she deadpanned.
‘I noticed.’
There was a flare of heat in his expression that triggered a corresponding flare in her body. To the point where she really needed a cold shower. She took refuge in being sassy. ‘Basically, this is a business expense.’
‘No. It’s from me to you, to say I appreciate you.’
‘And so you should.’ No way was she going to let him know that his comment, even more than the flowers, had just turned her into mush. She buried her nose among the blooms. Their scent was sweet, yet heady. ‘Thank you. They’re beautiful. How did you know I’d like pink roses?’
He coughed and gestured to her shoes.
She smiled. ‘Busted. OK, so it’s my favourite colour.’ She breathed in their scent again. ‘Thank you, Luke. These really are lovely.’
And when she made them both a coffee and put a mug on his desk, she gave in to the impulse and kissed his cheek.
‘What was that for?’ he asked.
‘Just to say I appreciate the roses.’
‘Pleasure.’ But he was staring at her mouth.
Just as she was staring at his.
Wondering.
She was used to giving hugs and kissing cheeks and ruffling hair. It was how she’d grown up, in the middle of a close and noisy and affectionate family. But kissing Luke’s cheek just now, being close enough to smell his clean scent and feel the softness of his skin against her lips…that hadn’t been her best idea. Because it had made her all too aware of him: an awareness that could be dangerous.
An awareness that grew and grew over the morning. Luke had a lunchtime meeting—one that had been in his diary since before she’d started working with him, so she knew it wasn’t an excuse to avoid her. She had lunch on her own, sitting on a bench overlooking the river. Giving her time to think.
Things were definitely starting to change between her and Luke; although Sara still didn’t really know what made him tick, she liked the glimpses he’d allowed her to see so far. Liked them enough to want to know more. To get to know him properly. And…
She took a sip of her ice-cold water. If she let her thoughts go much further in that direction, she’d need to up-end the bottle over her head to cool her down.
* * *
‘I’m pulling rank,’ Luke said the next day. ‘We’re having a working lunch.’
She coughed. ‘Lunch is meant to be a break.’
‘Refilling the well. Yeah, yeah, you told me.’ He flapped a dismissive hand. ‘But I need to brief you a little bit about this weekend.’
‘The operative word being “little”. I thought you wanted me to do it completely as a mystery