Luke: Armed and Dangerous (5 page)

Okay, she’d set a new record. She’d become a complete and total idiot in less than
two minutes.

The man—Luke—placed a possessive palm on her waist and took her other hand in his.
Before she had gathered her thoughts, what few she had left, Luke drew her into the
crowd of people dancing at the center of the room. “Do you two-step?” he asked, even
as he led her.

“Uh, yeah.”
Brilliant, Trinity.
“It’s, ah, been awhile.” She glanced down at their feet as they moved, and promptly
imbedded her three-inch spiked heel into the leather toe of his boot, bringing them
to a halt. Her gaze shot to his and to his credit he didn’t even flinch. “A really
long while.”

He grinned, a dimple appearing in one cheek, and she instantly became a dithering
idiot. Again.

A-duh-duh-duh.

“Well, then,” he murmured, moving his mouth close to her ear, “we’ll just have to
keep at it till it all comes back to you. All right?”

“O—” Trinity shivered and almost moaned at the feel of his warm breath along her cheek.
“Okay.”

And can I have your babies, too?

What the heck was the matter with her, she wondered, as Luke drew her smoothly into
the throng of dancers. Sure, she’d gone gaga over guys before—when she was a teenager
for goodness sake. And those had been the ones in
Teen People
and
Bop
magazines. The adorable and unobtainable.

But this was a man. And God what a man. Certainly just as unobtainable as her childhood
crushes. Including the fact she was spoken for. More or less.

Er, good ol’ whatshisname...

Her pulse rate zoomed past the legal speed limit as they two- stepped to a country-western
tune that had been popular back when she’d lived on the Flying M. Funny how she could
still remember all the words. Yet right now she had a hard time remembering what her
almost-fiance looked like. All she could picture in her mind was this sexy hunk of
cowboy whose mere presence had fried all the circuits to her brain.

Cowboy. Jeez!
She didn’t do cowboys. Well, not to mention she shouldn’t be doing anyone but the
man she’d been with for the last couple of years.

“Are you going to tell me more about you?” Luke’s baritone rumbled as the tune came
to an end and a much slower song started. “Or am I gonna just have to keep making
things up in my imagination?”

Trinity’s whole body went on high alert as he brought her into his embrace for the
slow dance. She placed her hands lightly on his shoulders—like she was afraid to touch
him. His jeans-clad hips moved so close to hers that she felt the brush of denim through
her silky skirt. She gulped and her gaze shot up to his. That couldn’t be his... he
couldn’t be... it had to be her imagination. He wasn’t aroused, was he?

Amusement glittered in Luke’s blue eyes as he guided her in a slow and easy turn to
the music. “Did you drop your voice into that incredible cleavage?” he murmured.

Trinity blinked and then smiled. “Now that’s one I haven’t heard before.”

“Well, what do you know?” He gave her that sexy grin again. “The beautiful woman does
remember how to speak.”

Beautiful. Sheeee-yeah.

“I—I’m Trinity.” Trinity gave her “new” name, her Europe name, wishing like hell she
could find that newer, confident version of herself.

“Nice.” Luke moved one hand to rest on her hip, but she didn’t know if he was referring
to her name or her body. His palm felt so hot that it was like he had it pressed to
her bare skin, rather than against her dress. “Where have I seen you before, Trinity?
You’re not from ’round here, are you?”

She caught her breath as he twirled her to the song, and he somehow managed to bring
her body even closer to his. “I used to live in this area, ages ago. I’m visiting.”

“Very sexy.” Luke brought one hand to her left ear and lightly ran his thumb down
the row of earrings. His expression turned thoughtful. “Your eyes... I never forget
a woman’s eyes. Hell, I’ve never forgotten a face. So why are you so familiar, yet
I can’t place you?”

“We’ve definitely never met.” Trinity managed a smile. “I’d remember you.”

“Yeah?” He moved away from her and took her hand, his palm hard and callused against
her softer skin. “And why’s that?”

With a start Trinity realized Luke was drawing her through the open doors of the sunroom.
“I really should get back to Nevaeh,” she said, her words rushed and her heart beating
furiously as he led her toward the Christmas tree in the corner. “She’ll wonder where
I am.”

Luke’s cock strained against his jeans as he brought Trinity to a stop beside the
decorated tree. Lights twinkled, the soft glow playing upon her delicate features
and reflecting in her eyes.

He took both her hands in his, resisting the urge to grab her hips and press himself
tight against her, letting her feel how badly he desired her. He wanted to dispense
with the time it would take to get to know this beautiful woman, and get her straight
into his bed.

But everything about her told him he’d have to take things a lot slower than he’d
like to. And he found himself wanting to do that—take his time. There was something
about Trinity, something that told him that this was a woman he’d have to possess
on more than a casual basis.

Damn.

That instinct alone should have made him turn her loose, but turning her loose was
the last thing he planned to do.

“Really, I should get back.” Trinity avoided his gaze, looking instead toward the
rec room.

Luke released one of her hands and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. Her
soft peaches-and-cream scent eased through his senses. “What are you afraid of?”

She licked her lips, her eyes focused on his. “You,” she whispered.

The corner of his mouth turned up. “Not ten minutes ago the most dangerous criminal
in Douglas was cozying up to you. Why would you be scared of me?”

“I—I shouldn’t be here.” She tried tugging her hand away, but he held on and raised
her hand to his chest.

He pressed her palm against his shirt and rubbed his thumb over her fingers. “No ring.”
He frowned as he studied her jade green eyes. “You’re not married, are you?”

“No.” She swallowed, her throat visibly working. “But I’m in a long-term relationship.
Two years now. I’m practically engaged.”

The freight train of jealousy that slammed into Luke took him completely by surprise.
“So where’s your boyfriend?” he asked in a tone that was too calm for the fury churning
his gut at the thought of another man with a claim on this woman.

“England.” She brought her other hand up to his chest and pressed, as though trying
to push him away. But the feel of her palms through his shirt only made him want her
more. “We’ll be seeing each other soon, though.”

Nope. Wasn’t happening.
No way in hell was Luke letting another man have this woman. If she’d been married,
he would have walked away, no matter the bitter regret that would have chapped his
ass. But as far as he was concerned, if the guy in England hadn’t staked his claim
with a ring and a wedding vow, then the bastard wasn’t man enough to keep her.

But he had to make sure.

Luke gritted his teeth. “Practically engaged?”

A fine blush tinted her cheeks. “He hinted that he’s planning to ask me when we get
together for Christmas.”

Luke released his hold on her fingers and slid his palm onto her hip at the same time
he cupped the back of her head with his other hand. “If the man hasn’t made you his
by now, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

Trinity’s entire body vibrated, her skin alive in a way that she’d never felt before
with—with, er...

Luke brought his face closer to hers, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath
on her lips and she could almost imagine how he would taste. His spicy scent saturated
her senses, his male presence hard and solid.

Everything about him was virile and sexy, dark and dangerous. Definitely dangerous,
and definitely not part of the carefully arranged hand Trinity planned to play out,
meticulously and cleanly, to win the stakes she’d set her sights on years ago. Good
job, nice home, stable family a million miles away from faithless cowboys like the
one who broke her sister’s heart and her dreadful past as Meaty MacKenna—a man like
this definitely wasn’t part of the draw she needed. No, he was... a wild card.

An unexpected, unpredictable wild card who could win the game instantly—or wreck it
forever.

He was waiting. Waiting for her to tell him no. But all she could think about was
how badly she wanted him to kiss her.

No, Trinity. You can’t do this.

Just one kiss. One little kiss.

Luke made a noise like the rumble of a bull, and a whimper slipped from Trinity. A
sound of longing and desire.

His mouth crushed hers, his lips firm and possessive. She opened up to him, but he
didn’t slide his tongue into her mouth. Instead he nipped at her lower lip, small,
untamed bites that made her burn in a way she’d never imagined.

Trinity moaned and clenched her hands in his shirt as she reached up, begging for
more. Part of her couldn’t believe what she was doing, couldn’t believe what he was
doing to her. And a part of her didn’t give a darn. She just didn’t want it to end.

Luke separated his mouth from hers, but kept his lips close to hers. “I’ve got to
taste you, sugar. All of you.”

Omigod.
By the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes, he didn’t just mean a kiss. He
meant every part of her body. Her skin seemed to catch fire at the thought of his
face pressed against her belly, his rough hands tracing every inch of her flesh.

What was she doing? She didn’t even know Luke—she’d just met him what, twenty minutes
ago? And now here she was, thinking of spreading a little Christmas cheer by making
out with him in front of a roomful of people.

What about her plans, the man she thought she was going to marry?

I am a calm, rational software designer. I’m a project supervisor. A businesswoman.
I am not a call girl at a Christmas party.

She gripped his shirt so tightly her knuckles ached. “Luke, I—”

He cut her off with another hard kiss. Only this time he plunged his tongue into her
mouth, demanding and insistent.

Everything melted away. All thoughts of anything outside the feel of his stubble chafing
her skin, the taste of him... a heady male flavor combined with a hint of malt beer.

Small purring sounds echoed in Trinity’s ears, and she realized it was her making
the sounds. A low Mmmmhmmm rose up within her, as if she was sampling the finest of
chocolates and she couldn’t get enough.

Right then she knew the kiss would never be enough. If she didn’t put some distance
between herself and this man right now, she’d never be able to walk away from him.

She tore her mouth from his, her breathing hard and uneven. Luke’s chest rose and
fell beneath her hands, and she knew he was as deeply aroused as she was.

“I, ah...” Trinity unclenched her hands, releasing his shirt, her knuckles aching
with the sudden flow of blood. “I need to use the ladies’ room.”

Luke ran the back of his hand along her cheek and smiled, his blue eyes dark with
sensuality. “I’ll get you something at the bar.”

“Rum and Coke would be great.” The conversation seemed inane considering the kiss
they’d just shared and the wild lust pulsing between them in tangible waves. Impulsively
she reached up and lightly kissed him. “I’ll be right back.”

She slipped away, refusing to look over her shoulder at him one last time, her lips
still tingling. As she entered the rec room, she suddenly realized how she must look—her
lipstick kissed off, her mouth red from the scrape of his stubble, her lips swollen
from his kisses and bites.

He’d bitten her for cripes sake.

In her state of total freak-out, she bumped into another woman carrying two beers,
and the woman dropped both bottles. They made a thud and a fizzing sound as they hit
the carpet.

Trinity’s gaze shot up to meet the brunette’s furious ice-gray eyes, and the apology
died in Trinity’s throat. “Joyce Butler?” Trinity said almost reflexively.

“Yeah.” The woman’s frown deepened. “Who the hell are you, a roller-derby queen?”

Madeline.
The name almost popped out, but Trinity choked it back.

Madeline. Don’t you remember?

It’s me. Meaty MacKenna.

“Excuse me.” Trinity dodged past the person who she’d once considered her worst enemy
in high school. Joyce Butler, the vivacious beauty who had been one of the most popular
girls in school.

And the bitch who’d given her the nickname she hated more than anything in life.

Joyce Butler had considered it her mission to make Trinity’s life miserable all four
years of high school, and even on into college. She couldn’t even take satisfaction
in the knowledge that Joyce hadn’t recognized her.

No.
If Joyce found out who Trinity was... crap. The woman would no doubt work to learn
all about Trinity’s existence now. Then make sure Race found out she had been kissing
another man, or whatever other trouble she could stir up in Trinity’s life.

The irony in the fact that Trinity had finally remembered Race’s name almost made
her burst into hysterical laughter.

Her face burned as she blindly rushed through the crowd. She stumbled over Killer,
but regained her balance, sidestepped the dog, and hurried up the stairs.

She had to get out of here, as far away as she could get for the moment. But where—

Skylar.
Of course. Her sister would hide her out until she could get her thoughts together.

Keep moving, she told herself, even though her body wanted to fling itself back through
the bed-and-breakfast until she found Luke.

“Not happening,” she said aloud.

She had to get to the Flying M, and now.