Single Girl Abroad (Mills & Boon M&B) (Mills & Boon Special Releases) (2 page)

‘You let anger take hold,’ said Jake. ‘You lost your centre.’

He didn’t have a centre. He wasn’t even sure he had a soul any more after standing witness to so much death and destruction. And the thought that Madeline Delacourte, saviour of street urchins, had sold her soul for wealth ate at him like acid. Just
once
he’d wanted an angel of mercy to grace his life rather than the spectre of death.

‘How long since you last took a job?’ Jake asked next.

‘A few weeks back, give or take.’ Not that he minded. Better for everyone when he wasn’t working.

‘You right for money?’

‘Money’s fine.’ Luke’s line of work had paid remarkably well over the years. He wasn’t in Madeline Delacourte’s stratosphere by any means, but he had no monetary need to ever work again.

Jake opened his mouth and closed it again without speaking. His face took on a pained expression. ‘Blame your brothers,’ he murmured.

‘For what?’

‘This. You’re not in love, are you?’

Luke stared at him in astonishment. ‘What?’

‘No uncontrollable yearning to phone, visit, or possess one particular woman above all others?’ Jake asked warily.

‘No.’ Not unless he counted wanting to possess the sister of mercy who’d just sashayed out of Jake’s dojo without a backward glance. Which he didn’t.

‘This is a good thing,’ said Jake. And with his next breath, ‘So what the hell’s your problem?’

‘I don’t know.’ Something about this brother demanded honesty and always had. Luke gave it to him straight. ‘It’s just … walk in the shadow of violence long enough and it begins to claim you. I looked at Madeline Delacourte and saw beauty, not just of form but in deed as well. When your words painted her otherwise I saw red.’

Jake frowned as he towelled himself down. ‘There’s goodness in Maddy—ask any kid she’s dragged from the gutter. There’s beauty in the way she walks this city’s dark side without fear. As for marrying to secure a better life—maybe she did, maybe she didn’t—it’s none of my business. And it doesn’t make her a whore.’

Luke scowled. ‘It doesn’t exactly make her pure as the driven snow either.’

‘What do you care? An angelic woman would drive you insane within a week.’

‘Yes, but it’d be nice to know they
exist
.’

‘When I find one I’ll give you a call,’ said Jake dryly. ‘Meanwhile, I suggest you respect Madeline Delacourte for what she is. A smart and generous woman who doesn’t give a damn if she has more enemies amongst the upper echelons of society than friends. She does what they don’t. She pours truckloads of money into programmes designed to help the poor and displaced. She gets her hands dirty. And she doesn’t judge people according to past actions and find them wanting, the way you’ve just done.’

Luke scowled afresh. ‘Point taken.’ If Jake was willing to defend her, then she must be all right. Not an angel, just a mere mortal like everyone else. Angels were for fairy
tales. He tossed his towel down on the bench. ‘I might stay on the floor a while.’ Work the forms, push his body hard and maybe, just maybe, bury his recklessness and his wrongful snap judgements beneath exhaustion.

Jake slid him a sideways glance, cool and assessing. ‘Fight me again,’ he offered. ‘Street rules, this time. No long sticks. No holding back. Just you and me.’

‘What if I hurt you?’ asked Luke gruffly, even as the beast within him roared its approval at Jake’s offer.

‘You won’t.’ Jake smiled gently. ‘But feel free to try.’

Jake had given Luke unspoken permission to work off his anger and during the fighting that followed he did, sending more and more his brother’s way until Jake faced the whole of it, drawing it from him effortlessly and shaping it into something harmless, something almost beautiful in its purity of intent. Fifteen minutes later, when they were both breathing hard and dripping sweat, Luke finally felt his tension start to ease.

Twenty minutes in, conspicuously on the losing end of this bout and grinning like a loon, Luke took the match to the floor and karate-with-intent turned to curse-and-laugh-filled wrestling. One last almighty elbow jab to Luke’s solar plexus and Jake had him licked.

‘You’d better be feeling better,’ said Jake, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand as he staggered to his feet. ‘Because I’m sure as hell feeling worse.’

Luke tried to sit up, groaned in pain, and thought the better of it. Flat on his back on the floor was just fine. Nice view of the ceiling from here. Jake’s conquering grin
came into view first, then his hand. Luke batted it away. ‘Go away. I’m meditating.’

‘You? Meditate?’ Luke had never really mastered the finer points of meditation, and Jake knew it. ‘On what?’

‘Cobwebs. There’s one in your light fitting.’ Jake swore blue that meditation was simply a variation on the absolute focus Luke brought to the dismantling of bombs. Trouble was, Luke couldn’t bring that kind of focus to anything
but
unexploded weaponry. He certainly couldn’t wish it into being while contemplating his navel, even if his navel
was
a metaphor for life, the universe, and everything.

‘Cobweb meditation is good,’ murmured Jake. ‘Cobwebs can draw you to the centre of things and reveal hidden truths. Mind you, it’d help if you closed your eyes and stopped trying to incinerate your retinas while you’re at it.’

‘Always the perfectionist,’ muttered Luke, but he closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

‘What do you see?’ asked Jake.

‘The back of my eyelids.’

Jake sighed. ‘Focus.’

‘I know. I know. I’m on it,’ said Luke. ‘I’m moving my mind out into the flow.’

‘Good. What do you see?’

The face of a woman, bright against the darkness. Shoulder-length honey-blonde hair styled straight with a full fringe. Moss-green eyes flecked with brown and framed by sable lashes. A wide mobile mouth made for laughter and kissing. She would kiss very well; he knew it instinctively. She could make a man believe there was good in the world.

Madeline Delacourte.

Luke snapped his eyes open and sat up fast, never mind the pain coursing through his side or the thorn of desire lodged deep in whatever passed these days for his soul.

‘Anything?’ asked Jake.

Luke shook his head. ‘Nothing you want to know.’

M
ADELINE
made a habit of following up on her rehomed street kids the day after she’d dropped them off at their new abode. Nimble-fingered Po had many survival strategies and scams in place, most of which would be calling for his attention right about now. If Jake could manage to keep Po around the dojo for the next forty-eight hours or so … if Jake could offer the boy something to work towards, something he wanted
more
than his old way of life … then Po had a chance at staying off the streets. That first step away from the old life was always the hardest, Maddy knew, but it could be done.

All Po needed was the right incentive.

Jacob was fronting a kick-boxing class when she walked into his dojo. He scowled when he saw her and jerked his head towards the back rooms, the half a dozen tiny rooms where guests and visiting students stayed, along with the occasional wayward boy.

She found Po in the kitchenette, kneeling on the round
table, his attention firmly fixed on an odd assortment of kitchen appliances that had been placed dead centre of the round. Luke Bennett stood opposite Po, fully clothed this time, which was something of a disappointment, his voice a low rumble and his head bent as he too focused on the stuff on the table. Some sort of rolled-out cloth-bound toolkit lay between boy and man, only these particular tools weren’t like any other implements Maddy had ever seen.

‘Nearly done,’ Luke’s voice rolled over her, low and soothing. ‘Steady. Steady. Just a li-i-ttle bit more. Okay, Po.
Now
.’ Po’s hands moved quick and sure as he wielded a tiny pair of wire cutters over a mass of wires, Luke’s fingers just as nimble as he unwound a silver spring and shoved a piece of what looked like Blu-tack in its place. Moments later both boy and man leaned back, their grins wide and white. ‘You’ve got good hands, kid. I’ll give you that,’ said Luke.

Po beamed. Maddy stared.

‘Is that—’ she couldn’t believe her eyes ‘—a
bomb
?’

‘Of course not. What kind of question is that?’ Luke finally deemed fit to look her way, laughter lurking just around the corner. Maddy felt the force of that vivid amber gaze clear down to her toes. ‘It’s a makeshift detonation mechanism attached to a toaster.’

Maddy opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Where to
begin
?

‘Luke’s got it set up to burn toast unless we can disable the detonator in time,’ added Po.

‘And the
wallet
in the toaster?’ she asked acidly. ‘What does that do?’

Po suddenly found the cracked linoleum floor pattern fascinating. Madeline stifled a groan. ‘Po, who owns the wallet?’

‘Jake,’ said Luke. ‘Po liberated it from him this morning and I liberated it from Po. Po’s currently planning to put it back where he found it. He’d appreciate my silence on the issue. The main problem being that once I set the wallet to toasting, Po has approximately a minute to disable the detonator without jamming the toaster. Any longer than that and I’m pretty sure Jake’s going to notice the scorch marks.’

Still nowhere to begin. Anywhere would do.

‘Okay, debatable disciplinary measures aside, you don’t think it slightly unwise to be teaching a
child how
to build and dismantle a trigger mechanism for a
bomb
?’ She’d started the sentence with her voice low and controlled, the better to avoid shrieking by the time she got to the end.

‘Maybe under ordinary circumstances, yes, but look at it this way,’ said Luke, using that same soothing voice he’d used earlier. Unlike earlier, when she’d been reluctantly charmed, it made her want to strangle him. ‘Po’s a pickpocket. A career that values steady nerves and nimble hands is a natural progression for him.’

‘Exactly
how
,’ she said, with a generous dollop of sarcasm, ‘is a career in bomb disposal
progression
?’

‘Well, for one thing it’s
legal
.’

‘Did you mention how if you stuff up, you
die
?’

‘Happens I did,’ said Luke. ‘I’m all for full disclosure.’

‘There’s so much to admire about you, Luke Bennett. Pity about the rest.’

‘Oh, that’s harsh,’ he murmured without an ounce of
repentance. ‘Sorry, kid,’ he said to Po. ‘Lesson cancelled. I suggest you think hard about whether or not you’re prepared to live by my brother’s rules because I’m telling you now, you won’t get a second chance with him. If it’s easy money you’re after, go back to picking pockets. Then when you grow up you can join the real thieves and be an investment banker.’ Luke slid Maddy a sideways glance. ‘Or you can always try the minimal-effort, time-honoured method of improving your lot in life and marry someone with money. Happens all the time.’

Maddy took the hit as she was meant to take it.

Personally.

‘Now I know why your brother enjoys beating the daylights out of you,’ she murmured.

‘Trying,’ corrected Luke helpfully. ‘He enjoys
trying
to beat the daylights out of me. There’s a difference.’

‘Po, will you excuse us for a moment, please?’ said Madeline.

‘Can I get the wallet first?’

‘Maybe later,’ said Luke. ‘And if you steal anything else of Jake’s I swear you’ll be cleaning the dojo floor with a toothbrush.’

Po grinned and disappeared.

‘Is
your
room locked?’ asked Madeline sweetly.

Luke cursed and headed for the door. ‘Stay here,’ he told her and pointed towards the table. ‘Guard that while I escort Po to a kick-boxing class.’

‘Ah, the masculine mind at work,’ murmured Maddy as he swept past her, all hard and determined male. ‘It’s a wondrous thing.’

‘It’d help a lot if you didn’t actually
speak
,’ he said.

She blew him a kiss instead. ‘Is that better?’

‘No.’

She smiled her commiseration.

Only when she was sure Luke Bennett was out of sight did Madeline give in to curiosity and turn her attention to the device on the table. Five minutes later she thought she had the simplicities of the detonation mechanism figured.

‘You should ask for permission before you start playing with a man’s toys,’ said a chocolate-smooth voice from behind her. ‘They might not be harmless.’

Luke. He of the steady hands, stupendous body, and small brain.

‘What would happen if I cut this wire here?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘What about this one?’

‘Cut that one and life gets interesting,’ he said. ‘Jake said you and he were just friends.’

‘Aw-w-w. You’re still concerned about poaching? Aren’t you sweet?’ Best to turn and face danger head on—the better to know when to run. Madeline hadn’t learned that in any fancy Swiss finishing school but the lesson had stood her in excellent stead over the years nonetheless. She braced herself as she turned her head to look at him in an attempt to lessen the impact of that clear golden gaze. ‘But Jake’s right. I consider him a friend. I’m glad to hear that he considers me one.’

‘You didn’t know that he thinks of you as a friend?’ asked Luke with the lift of an eyebrow.

‘Your brother’s not an easy man to read,’ she offered with a slight smile. Madeline pitied the woman who set her sights on Jacob Bennett, she really did. ‘He doles his
smiles and his welcomes out sparingly. You, on the other hand, don’t.’

‘Is this a bad thing?’ The smile Luke bestowed on her held more than its share of wicked charm.

‘For you? No.’ For the women on the receiving end of those easy smiles, she thought it might be. Time to stop gazing at that arresting face and concentrate on something else, decided Madeline. Like the stretch of a grey T-shirt over a chest wide and muscled. Like the play of veins from his elbows to his wrists as he leaned in beside her, his forearms on the table and his attention on the toaster.

Luke’s shoulder brushed hers, ever so briefly, and ever so deliberately. No way did this man not know where every millimetre of his was at any given time. He turned his head towards her and his gaze skated over her face and came to rest on her mouth with a focus that made Madeline’s breath hitch somewhere in her throat and stay there.

Madeline’s gaze slid helplessly to the sensual curve of
his
lips. Passion abundant, yet underscored by a firmness that hinted at iron control when Luke wanted control. Laughter in the grooves around the edges of those lips.

‘Seen enough?’ he murmured, and she who never blushed felt warmth creep up her neck and along her cheeks.

‘I think so.’ Cursing his appeal and her blatant reaction to it, Madeline turned her attention back to the apparatus on the table. ‘Where were we?’

‘No idea,’ he said. ‘But I think we should get it over with. It’d speed things up and, seeing as I’m only here for a week …’

‘Get what over with?’

‘Our first kiss.’ They were side by side, shoulder to shoulder, as he picked up the tiny wire cutters and carefully turned the detonator over to reveal another half a dozen wires. ‘One of them will disable the detonator without jamming the toaster. Question is, which one?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘You want to hazard a guess?’

‘Not particularly,’ she said. ‘I like to know what I’m doing—and why—before I do it. Take kissing you, for example.’

‘Good example,’ he said.

‘Happens I do know my way around a man’s mouth,’ she murmured. ‘Thing is, I’m not altogether sure
why
I’d want to kiss a man who despises me.’ She needed to see his face for this next question. She needed to think she wouldn’t get lost when she looked his way. ‘Is it the money you despise or the way I acquired it?’

‘Maybe you didn’t marry for money,’ he said, his eyes not leaving her face as he threw down his own question. ‘Maybe you loved your late husband.’

Maddy stared into those warm tiger eyes for a very long time, wishing her answer could have been different. Wishing she could have said yes, yes, she had. But the one thing Madeline had never been was a liar and she didn’t intend to start now, no matter how strong the temptation. ‘I married William Delacourte for security and for the lifestyle he could give me. He was a good man. I respected him and never cheated on him. But if you’re asking me whether I loved him when I married him the answer is no.’

Luke Bennett didn’t like that answer. She could see questions in his eyes—so many questions she didn’t know how to answer—and behind the questions, condemnation.

‘Did you sleep with him?’ he asked.

‘Have
you
been in love with every woman you’ve ever slept with?’ she answered coolly.

‘No,’ he answered, equally cool. ‘Did he know you didn’t love him?’

‘Yes.’

‘Poor bastard,’ 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 moment
with 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.’