His Sister's Wedding (6 page)

Despite how it may appear to Luke, she wasn't an uptight prude. If he'd given indication
of being a man seeking a soul mate, Lillie might very well have allowed herself to
succumb to the deep pull of his attraction. But as things stood, it could only be
self-destructive to fall for and make love with a man who hoarded his emotions as
fiercely as a miser.

"I respect your right to have a different outlook on this thing," Lillie said finally.
"But I'm not going to have a sexual relationship with you."

Luke met her determined gaze, a hint of amusement lurking in his dark eyes. "If you're
so much in favor of love and marriage, why aren't you married yourself?"

"There's a little matter of finding the right man," she said stiffly, hating the defensive
note in her voice.

"I see. You're looking and you just haven't found Mr. Right. But I'd think a beautiful
woman like yourself would have plenty of guys willing to 'fall in love' with you."
He lifted a taunting eyebrow, waiting for her response.

"There have been one or two," she replied even more stiffly.

"What was the problem, then? Didn't they measure up either?"

"It isn't a matter of 'measuring up,'" Lillie retorted. "I don't think it's asking
too much to want to be important to the man you marry."

"So you had unrealistic expectations in your past relationships, and when the guys
didn't meet them, you gave them the boot, Pollyanna?"

"Don't call me that!" Lillie felt her face flush as words crowded hotly on her tongue.
"There's no crime in having high expectations. At least when mine are met I'll have
something worth hanging on to. You're deliberately setting your expectations low so
you won't get hurt, but you also won't know the deep, lifelong love my parents had."

Luke shook his head, a faint bitterness at the back of his eyes. "The illusion of
love being all, conquering all."

"Love can conquer all," she said, hating the faint shakiness in her voice. "I've witnessed
it."

Luke met her gaze after a moment of silence, his smile enigmatic. "So," he leaned
back against the wall, "we'll use the garden for Mel's wedding. If it comes off."

"What? I never agreed to that," Lillie denied, struggling to keep pace with his sudden
change of subject. "I still think it's an impractical idea. A nightmare from a coordinator's
perspective."

"I tell you what," he offered, "I happen to have a key to the house with me. We'll
inspect the kitchens and the dressing space. If you still think it's a lousy idea,
I'll consider other sites--" He raised a hand when she opened her mouth to speak.
"But none of those bland, regulation church places."

"This doesn't sound like much of a compromise," Lillie commented with irony.

"Have I told you I'm not good at making concessions?"

"No, but it doesn't come as a surprise." She stared out at the garden absently. "Okay,
I'll at least look at the inside of the house. But if it's a mess, which I'm convinced
it will be, we find somewhere else and this wedding will 'come off'."

Luke wondered if she knew how easy she was to read. Her cheeks still held a peachy
flush from his kiss, her mouth trembled ever so slightly. God, she had a great mouth.
Small and heart-shaped, as sweet as candy. Who'd have guessed she kissed like a witch's
apprentice, as sinful as midnight and as dangerous as black magic.

"If you think the inside of the house isn't workable, we'll talk about alternatives."
Luke's mouth twitched but he managed to keep the satisfied smile from spreading.

Lillie looked at him through narrowed eyes, apparently aware he was hedging his bets.
She was a sharp cookie, all right. Still too romantic and ridiculously optimistic,
but not as drifty as he'd first thought. She stood by her lovesick brother with the
fierce loyalty of a woman who held tightly to her convictions. But her expectations
were as high as the moon.

Still that kind of loyalty made her attractive on some levels. He could see her mothering
a loving family. For sure, a child growing up with her brand of affection would never
doubt his mother's love.

If he could cure her of her idealistic nonsense about "falling in love," she might
be a woman worth getting to know better.

The sound of drumming rain filled the sudden silence, awareness running like a fine
wire between them.

His gaze shifted over her pale heart-shaped face, surrounded by the delicious tangle
of hair. How would it feel to lose himself in that glorious mass of hair? She'd be
an intelligent lover, he knew. A woman who gave as good as she got. Luke hated to
admit it, but she intrigued him. He loved to poke at her cherished beliefs just to
get a rise out of her. 

"So, after coordinating all these weddings, you must have come up with some ideas
for you own marital event," he commented when the silence between them lengthened.

"Yes." A faint expression of wariness crept into her eyes.

"Tell me about it," he invited, drawn to solve her like a puzzle.

"You can't possibly be interested in that," Lillie declared.

"Oh, but I am," he teased. "Just think of it as me giving you the opportunity to convert
me."

"I don't go in for lost causes," she informed him, a smile tugging at the corner of
her mouth.

"Come on," he coaxed. "You're refusing to make out with me. The least you can do is
make conversation."

"I thought we were going to look at the house."

"We are," he promised. "I just have to recoup my strength after dragging you out of
the storm. Tell me about your wedding."

She glared at him a moment before her face relaxed. "Okay, but only if you promise
not to laugh."

"Scouts' honor."

That brought the laughter to her eyes. In the best of times, he was a long way from
being a boy scout.

"Okay, but you have to try to envision it."

"All right." But he didn't close his eyes, not wanting to miss the shifting expressiveness
of her face.

"Imagine pink roses. Old-fashioned ones, big and heavy with lots of open petals. All
colors of pink and red and white, their perfume heavy in the air, but so natural you
just can't get enough."

"I'm imagining," he murmured, enduring the urge to bend closer to sample
her
scent. The memory of it clung to his senses, a teasing, haunting glimpse of her sensuality.
She smelled better than roses.

"It would be a garden wedding--"

"Ahhhh." Luke couldn't resist making the satisfied sound. He knew she'd love this
setting, even if she needed to disagree at first, as a matter of principle.

"But not an overgrown place like this," Lillie hastily added. "Someplace courtly and
historic, like one of the Victorian houses around here."

"Go on," he prodded.

"I don't really have the specifics," she admitted almost shyly. "I've always thought
that the groom should have as much input as he wants. So some of the details will
be added by whoever I marry."

She leaned her head back against the wall. "I just know the feeling I want. Children,
laughter, friends. A natural, open expression of our mutual love celebrated in the
presence of those we cherish. I know that's how my groom will feel about it. He won't
be afraid to be sentimental and tender, to let his feelings show."

"He'll probably be so overcome, he'll cry all the way through the honeymoon," Luke
commented, irritated at the thought of this unknown superhero.

Lillie stiffened. "I might have known you'd see it that way. I'm ready to look at
the house now." Scrambling away from the porch wall, she got to her feet and stalked
to the front door, disgust obvious in her every move.

Hormones were a terrible burden to a man. Luke knew he should feel repentant, but
he couldn't bring himself to do anything but grin.

*   *   *

Lillie wiggled the key in the lock of her front door. "Hang on a second. Sometimes
this lock is stubborn."

Luke stood behind her, his nearness setting off her internal radar. It had taken her
two weeks after their interlude in the rain to set up a time to view other possible
wedding sites. The hours in his presence this afternoon, driving from one church to
another, had tried her endurance. Somehow, without ever really getting out of line,
he'd managed to make her hypersensitive to every nuance between them.

She couldn't forget that kiss, couldn't banish the melting sensation from the pit
of her stomach. More than that, she couldn't help thinking about Luke's fiancée dumping
him. Somehow he didn't seem the type to let one fickle woman warp his whole life outlook.

"Here, let me do it," he offered as her fingers fumbled with the lock.

"I'll have it open in a second and get those brochures for you. It just needs a certain
twist."

"It needs to be replaced," Luke corrected. "If you had a man around here, he could
take care of these kinds of things."

"Locksmiths are less trouble," she retorted.

He laughed. "Don't be so sure."

"I'm sure--" Lillie broke off as the sound of footsteps on the sidewalk caught her
attention. Both she and Luke turned, the steps drawing nearer.

An attractive woman in her mid-fifties stood on the walk to Lillie's bungalow, her
dark hair and delicate features strangely familiar.

"Excuse me, are you Lillie Parker?"

"Yes, I am." Lillie took a step forward.

The woman smiled, her face relaxing as she offered her hand. "Good. I'm Janet Howard.
I understand you're coordinating..." Her words trailed off as her gaze traveled to
Luke for the first time.

"Luke?" the woman asked, incredulous and shaken at the same time.

"Hello, Mother," he drawled, his voice as cold as a desert night.

Lillie's head snapped around to stare at him. This woman was his mother?

He stood unmoving on the porch next to Lillie, his face like granite, his eyes hard
and flat.

Confused, Lillie glanced between mother and son, questions crowding her mind. Somehow
she'd gotten the impression from Scott that Melanie and Luke's mother was dead. But
here the woman stood in the flesh.

"Luke," Janet Howard repeated tremulously. "I wasn't expecting you here."

"Obviously." The single word held both contempt and dislike.

Lillie frowned up at him. Why was he being so hateful? Belatedly, she realized that
the woman hadn't immediately recognized her son. How long had it been since these
two had seen each other?

"I saw the announcement of Melanie's engagement in the newspaper," Janet said haltingly.
"Weddings take so much work. I thought I might be able to help."

Eager to turn the conversation to steady ground, Lillie jumped to say, "That would
be nice--"

"It won't be necessary," Luke interrupted. "Since Melanie's off at college, I'm taking
care of the wedding details with Ms. Parker's help."

"Oh." Disconcerted, the older woman stared at him helplessly.

The hurt in her eyes skewered Lillie's heart. Impulsive words tripped off her tongue.
"It would be nice to have a mother's touch, we could--"

"I'm sure my...mother is too busy." Steel couldn't have been colder than Luke's tone.
"We'll be able to handle things quite well ourselves."

"Of course, you will." A touch of bitterness entered the woman's voice. She raised
her chin. "Could you give me Melanie's address at school? I seem to have mislaid it."

"How...unfortunate." Luke's sneer was obvious as he recited the address while his
mother quickly scribbled it on a scrap of paper.

"Well, thank you." She turned to Lillie, offering her hand once more. "It was nice
to meet you, Ms. Parker. I hope we meet again soon." She threw her son a last pleading
look as she turned to go.

"Nice to meet you, too," Lillie murmured, feeling as though a sunny August day had
taken on tones of the
Twilight Zone
. In the flash of an instant, the laughing, teasing man beside her had turned into
a chunk of stone.

She looked up at him, profoundly disturbed by the lingering anger in his eyes as he
watched his mother walk away. The woman was his
mother
and he'd barely given her the time of day. What could she have done to deserve such
hostility from her son?

"Luke?" Lillie reached out, her hand touching his arm. "Are you okay?"

He glanced down, impersonally. "Of course. Listen, I'll get those brochures later.
I need to get back to work." He turned to leave.

"Wait a second," Lillie said, halting him in midstride. "About your mother--"

"Never mind her." His face was expressionless. "Call me if you need help with that
lock."

Lillie stared after him, feeling as helpless and shut out as his mother had looked.
He'd dismissed the woman as if she meant nothing to him. And just as readily discarded
her own concern.

Even two years after her parents' death, Lillie would have given anything to see them
again, to hear their voices, to be held in their arms. Luke's mother was still alive
and obviously eager to heal whatever hurt had separated them. Yet, Luke wanted nothing
to do with her.