Page 56 of The Black Trilogy

The vase from the hall table lay shattered on the floor, a puddle of water spreading from the remains. The table itself rested on its side, the polished surface chipped and scratched. I picked up a screwdriver from the floor and looked up at an abstract painting now more wacky than the artist originally intended.

“Your sister did…this?”

“We had an argument.”

The carnage continued from the dining room to the den. A tornado would have done less damage.

“Must have been some fight.”

Luke’s sigh settled in the still air. “It was.”

“What was—?” Never mind. “You fought about me, didn’t you?”

“She told me what she’d done, about getting you sacked, and I blew up at her.” He nudged his broken surfboard with his foot. “She didn’t take it too well.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“No reason for you to be sorry. It’s Tia who’s the problem.”

I bent to pick up a stray pool ball from the den floor. “I’m contributing to it.”

How did one teenager make so much mess in so little time?

“Hey, leave that.” Luke crouched beside me and turned my chin to face him. “Nora can clear that up tomorrow.”

“Nora?”

“My housekeeper. She works Monday to Friday. Now, will you leave it?”

“I’ll help her in the morning.”

“Fine. But tonight we’re going to bed.”

He stood, lifting me with him, then wrapped me up in his arms. His motives were a mystery, but he’d cared enough to come after me.

“Were you planning on doing that together?”

“Do you want to?”

Did I? Good question. I totted up the months I’d been without in my head and found it reached double figures. That last time hadn’t even been in a bed. A rather rushed effort on a kitchen island, if I recalled correctly. A certain blond CIA agent had lured me into his apartment with a promise of donuts, and we’d been tearing at each other’s clothes before the door swung closed. I’d got a bruise on my elbow from bumping into his fridge, and my backside nearly froze on the marble counter. Worse, I never did get my donut.

And no, he wasn’t my husband. Surprised? Well, I’ll explain that part later. Right now, I had more important things on my mind. Like the bulge in Luke’s trousers.

Let’s face it, a girl had needs.

“Make me forget,” I whispered, then kissed him.

Before I knew it, we’d fallen back on the sofa, and I’d lost my top in the process. That was hardly fair, so I sat up and dragged Luke’s shirt over his head. Now I was free to explore those abs I’d glimpsed last weekend.

And explore them I did. Heat crackled in the air, and Luke levered himself off the sofa then pulled me up.

“Bedroom,” he told me.

“Good idea.”

We tried to run for the stairs, but thanks to what he’d just done to me, my gait was more of a stagger.

The serenity of Luke’s bedroom décor contrasted with our desperation. Somewhere between the stairs and the door, Luke lost his trousers, and we landed on the bed in a tangle of limbs.

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