Lucas: The Hunter Brothers Series (2 page)

“Your
tan looks good,” the boss smiled at me, walking over when he’d finished the
talk.

“Thanks,
but be honest with me, Patrick, do I smell of dead veg?” I asked as he cast me
a bemused frown and sniffed my shoulder, looking down at me as he shook his
head.

“Thank
God for that, she must have changed the brand,” I said as he chuckled gently.

“Listen,
Jess, I’ve put you on champagne,” he smiled knowingly.

“Cheers”
I laughed, wondering if Chas had primed him. Not that he’d need a reminder of
how useless I was at waitressing the food. I’d never been any good and over
four years experience had made me little better. I failed to master the sexy
shimmy and sassy attitude of my sister despite my best efforts.

I’d
always suspected Patrick had a soft spot for Chas, although he’d never admit
it. I assumed that’s why he let her duck out of events she’d helped to
organise, to go on random dates with unobtainable playboys at the last minute,
shoving her largely inept sister in to cover the understaffing.

“So
who is it tonight?”

“Brad
Johnson” I said as I looked up at his kind smiling face, raising my eyebrows.

“Impressive
if you like that sort of thing, but that guy’s a dick. I don’t know why she
does it to herself, Jess. Honestly, I’ve seen so many good men ask your sister
out. Really nice ones that will treat her like a princess, but she always turns
them down. I don’t get why she goes for
those
kind
of guys. Women are just objects to them and they
always treat girls like shit,” he sighed, shaking his head. I did, but I wasn’t
telling Patrick.

“She’ll
learn,” he laughed, walking into the main party area as I grabbed my tray and
followed him, resisting the urge to tell him she wouldn’t. I had absolutely no
doubt that one day my sister would get her prize. It was as sure as death and
taxes.

The
party was in full swing by the time the band came on and the place was heaving.
It was a stately home, unusual for the kind of gig, but the acoustics worked
really well in the old ballroom I was covering. I made a beeline for the
outdoor deck to a group of men who were standing and smoking cigars, imagining
that no one else would be covering them. I knew instantly I’d made a mistake as
my nipples hardened and goose bumps flared across my shivering skin. It had
started to snow and there was nothing remotely warm about these so-called ‘hot’
pants.

I
clung to the tray, trying to quiet the chattering of my teeth and grabbed it
tightly with both hands as I shuddered. I’d never mastered the one handed
trick, but I smiled, holding out the champagne to the half dozen guests who
were chatting casually.

“Hey”
smiled a gorgeous man in a white dress shirt, open at the collar with blond
hair and blue eyes, full lips revealing a huge white smile as I looked up at
him. He was hot!

“Thanks”
he said politely, lifting a glass from the tray and I flushed slightly at the
way his gaze lingered on me. Why was I surprised? I was practically naked.

I
waited for a couple more people to replace their empties and take a refill,
smiling as I turned to move, the whole tray shaking precariously along with the
long stemmed champagne flutes as my body stopped abruptly at the strangest
angle. My heel was stuck in the gap between the wooden decking, and in a flash
the smiling stranger had steadied the tray, taking it from my hands and
laughing gently as I bent down and tried to release my shoe.

“Thank
you, that could have been a disaster,” I said quickly, blowing out in a sigh of
relief against the cold night air, my breath mingling with the plumes of smoke as
I retrieved the tray.

“You’re
welcome,” he winked as I noticed a fifty lying between the glasses with no idea
how it got there.

The
rest of the group were sniggering at my almost mishap as I grabbed the tray
tight. I muttered my thanks again for the gentlemanly intervention, staring at
the glasses in an effort to keep them steady, wondering about the rather
generous tip as I turned way too quickly and straight into the solid chest of
someone who’d appeared suddenly behind me.

I
all but rammed the tray against his solar plexus, watching in horror as the
glasses shook and fell, my hands scrambling furiously to try and stop the
inevitable in a split second reaction that wasn’t fast enough.

‘Oh
fuck, oh no, not again’ I cried internally as the champagne soaked through the
crisp white shirt, revealing some rock hard abs and the glass clattered and
crashed to the floor beneath me, followed by the clanging of the silver tray.
Oh. My.
God.

 
I stared at the calamity unravelling in slow
motion beneath my feet as I prayed for the ground to open up and swallow me whole.
The sniggers behind me were now full blown laughter, my cheeks were blazing and
I couldn’t look up, too afraid of the reaction of the stranger I’d practically
assaulted with my clumsiness. I knelt, staring at the floor and began to pick
up the broken glass. I’d have to apologise, but I was just too mortified and
even more terrified that these damn hot pants would split if I bent any
further.

Then
again, maybe he should apologise. He hadn’t been there a second ago. Perhaps I
should ball him out for sneaking up on me. Who was I kidding? It was pointless
blaming him. I was a shit waitress and when it came to dropping trays, I had
form.

Grabbing
at the glass and trying to get the biggest shards onto the metal tray with
absolutely no regard for my fingers, I knew I couldn’t evade it any longer. I
ran my eyes slowly upwards, from handmade Italian loafers, over the endless
legs encased in black trousers, a ruined white shirt and straight up to a pair
of the most vibrant cobalt eyes framed with thick black lashes that were
staring back at me as I gasped out loud.

Oh
Christ, this man was gorgeous and his gaze just held me there for way too long,
as my brain tried to refocus itself in a valiant effort and help me to remember
where I was.

He
was dark and beautiful and ....smiling. He was actually smiling at my flustered
face as I muttered my bumbling apology and he bent to help me, picking up the
glass and putting it on the tray. We were face to face as I gazed at him again,
stunned and mesmerised and my heart flipped in my chest, my stomach clenching
as he seared me with a look so powerful I felt it between my legs, unable to
help the small gasp that escaped my mouth.

I
had never met anyone so magnetic, drowning in those eyes and watching as his
gaze fell to my chest, running his tongue absentmindedly across his lips. My
already hard nipples sprang further to attention in response, wanting him to
stroke them, kiss them and roll them between his fingers as a blissful
sensation ran through my core.

Ordinarily
it would have felt perverse or unnatural, setting me on edge and making me
uncomfortable, but it didn’t. I was caught in the headlights of those eyes, absorbing
every feature – his strong straight nose and firm jaw. I wanted to feel the
dark stubble framing those incredible moist lips underneath my fingers,
wondering whether it was hard or soft like it looked. I had never responded
like this to anyone, every cell in my body filled with a surge of warmth in the
freezing chill.

It
was almost animalistic, a primitive need to be taken, kissed and touched, but I
wasn’t an animal. I was a waitress in possibly the most humiliating situation
of my life to date as I blinked rapidly, trying to push back my thoughts.

 
“I’m so sorry,” I stuttered, trying to ignore
the hysteria that was still surrounding me. I was desperate to get out of there,
yet unable to move, still staring at the indescribable face in front of me as a
jagged piece of glass sliced through my flesh. I gasped, looking down at the
blood oozing from my finger.

“Here,”
he said kindly, taking my hand in his as a jolt of electricity shot through me,
stemming the bleeding with his long fingers as I just stared at him mutely,
swallowing hard. His grip was firm and masterful. He wasn’t afraid of his power
and right now he was using that power to good effect.

The
feel of him as he held my hand was like lightening through my veins, sucking me
deeper under his spell with those magnificent eyes and he wasn’t letting go.
His hand dwarfed mine and I could only imagine what they would do to my body.

Those
cobalt irises were twinkling with amusement?
Desire?
Sexual need?
I wasn’t certain, probably reading too much into
it based on my own responses, but it was as though he could see into my mind
and I wondered if he was having the same debauched fantasy as I was. I’d never
felt such an intense and immediate connection.

God, he
was beautiful. It took a few seconds before my brain kicked in again and I
scrabbled together the rest of the glass with my uninjured hand and hauled my mortified
arse out of there as quickly as I could.

I
took my time in the kitchen as the professionals buzzed around me, feeling like
even more of an idiot and trying to dispose of the glass safely without slicing
my fingers to ribbons. How was it that they could move in and out without
incident, filling and refilling, lubricating the guests without causing a
calamity?
 
This time I was determined
that damn silver tray would not defeat me, loading up again and standing tall,
trying to channel my inner Chas. My sister to her credit had never dropped
anything.

I’d
managed an hour of accident free waitressing, with half my mind on the job, the
other half running through my reaction on that decking, reliving it over and
over. Every now and again I’d turn and notice the beautiful helpful stranger
watching me from across the room, and the smouldering stunning eyes were nearly
enough to make me drop my tray again. Hell, I almost wanted to, if it meant
he’d come to my rescue. He was sex on legs, sinfully masculine and looking
right at me. That gaze alone sent a tingled shiver across my skin and set my
nerves on edge. He was beyond hot, and there was something else lurking beneath
those glorious, handsome features. It was an air of danger that I desperately
wanted to explore.

He
motioned with his empty glass and I just knew that making it from A to B would
be an absolute minefield, but I wasn’t deterred. I was determined to go over
there, to see what he’d say and thank him for helping me, drawn towards him
like a moth to a flickering flame as my insides erupted in a flurry of
excitement that was all consuming.

 
I stood tall, walking as steadily and as
sexily as I could manage while I held that incredible cobalt gaze, moving
slowly towards him through the crowd who were swaying precariously to the
rocking tunes of the artists on stage. They sounded great and the atmosphere
was buzzing. I weaved my path through grinding hips and flailing arms, thinking
we might dance to this song at our wedding, wobbling for a second and deciding
to concentrate on the job in hand. My imaginary nuptials to the beautiful
stranger would have to wait.

There
was a slight smirk on the edge of his mouth as though he were silently
challenging me, our gazes locked and unswerving. It was another silent call to
every cell in my body as my stomach bounced with anticipation and need. I
wondered if his voice would reflect his look; deep, dark and penetrating;
melting my insides with a whisper as he kissed me, taking me underneath him and
enveloping me in those strong arms.

I
didn’t know his name and I already had him fucking me, pinning me down with the
weight of that solid body and it was unheard of. Chas would trawl through her
magazines, letting me know in no uncertain terms what she’d like to do with the
models that graced their pages. I looked and they were nice enough, but they
didn’t move me, not like he did.

He
was every bit as fine as they were, but he had a fire in his eyes that was unmistakeable
as I focused in on them, longing to reach my destination. I wanted to ditch the
tray and just run into those arms, have him throw me over his shoulder like
some macho caveman, drag me into a dark corner and do unspeakable things to me.

I
was halfway there, gliding through the bouncing throng in an uncharacteristically
impressive balancing act.
So far, so good.
Heck, being
upright at this point was novel. He was watching me as intently as I was
watching him and then it happened. From nowhere, six pairs of hands swooped on
my tray, leaving me without the bubbles he needed and I was momentarily stunned.

‘Noooooooo’,
I screamed inwardly as I stood there and shrugged. A small smile was playing on
his gorgeous lips as I all but ran back to the kitchen for a fresh load and
reappeared, scanning the room to find him. He was laughing with the men from
earlier and my colleague Poppy was walking away, having refreshed their drinks,
swaying her ample hips and smiling broadly. Bloody typical!

There
was nothing I could do. I couldn’t face just meandering over to say my thanks
in front of the group who’d witnessed my earlier faux pas, and it wasn’t as
though he was looking out for me now. He’d wanted a drink and now he’d got one,
so that was that.

I
only saw him once more, standing with the handsome blonde man and the talented
lead singer of Heat, deep in conversation and having clearly forgotten all
about me. I grabbed my coat and bag to leave and made my way home with the
vision of those stunning eyes burned into my brain. I sighed deeply, knowing in
all likelihood that I would never see them again.