TEN
LUKE OPENED THE DOOR TO his penthouse. It was just past dawn on Sunday morning. He’d hurried to get home so he could be there before Claire woke up. He’d tried to convince himself he could keep things just physical between them, but it wasn’t working. He was tired, and he missed her. He planned to drop his bag, strip off his clothes and then slide into his bed about thirty seconds before he slid into her. It felt like he’d been hard for days. He wanted to wake Claire up with his cock inside her and then lull her back to sleep in his arms. He’d put off working for a day and convince her to do the same. They could spend the day in bed and maybe by the time tomorrow rolled around he’d have managed to dull the ache he was feeling in his chest.
He hung his garment bag on the hook by the front door for Esmerelda to deal with in the morning. He started toward the hall, but when he walked past the kitchen he saw the uneaten cartoon of food on the counter and something tightened in his chest. He hated messes and it wasn’t like Claire to leave things out. Maybe she was too tired to put it in the sink last night, but she’d texted him saying she was having an early night. It was theI’m in the bath wish you were heretext that had him hurrying home in the dark this morning. Maybe she’d gotten a better offer for dinner. That thought bugged him a lot more than it should have.
Hurrying down the hall to his bedroom, he found the bed made and no sign of Claire anywhere. It didn’t make any sense. Surely she hadn’t gone to work on the flip already. Even she wasn’t that crazy. Pulling out his phone to call, he walked back to the kitchen to drop the carton of food into the trash. That’s when he saw the key fob he’d given her sitting in a bowl on the counter. How could she get back in without the key? She wasn’t expecting him until later. Something was going on and he intended to find out what. But if she was at the jobsite, hers or his, working herself to death, he was going to be well and truly pissed.
He called her phone, not all that surprised when it went to voice mail. If she was working she’d likely have the music turned up to earsplitting levels. Shaking his head in frustration, he grabbed the jacket he’d just taken off and went back out the door. Why couldn’t the woman just stay put and rest for fifteen minutes? She worked harder than he did and until he met her, he didn’t think that was possible. When he found her he was going to drag her home, tie her to his bed and not let her up again until he’d had his fill of her. If his dick had any say in it that might never happen.
He hit the button to call Jackson while he took the private elevator to his car.
“Where is Ms. English?” he asked when Jackson answered.
“She’s at her property on Chestnut,” said Jackson confirming Luke’s suspicions. “According to my log, she spent the night at her apartment and left for the Chestnut Street property about an hour and a half ago.”
“She spent the night at her place?” Luke wanted to be sure he’d heard the other man right. It didn’t make any sense. Why would she make dinner at his place, not eat it and then spend the night at her place? Something happened, and he didn’t like the direction his thoughts were going in.
“Ms. English went to your penthouse at a few minutes after eight. My man assumed she was in for the night but less than an hour later she was back in her car headed to her apartment on Westend.”
“Did she meet anyone?” Luke hated asking the question, but he needed to know.
“No,” said Jackson. “It looks like she was in by eight fifty and didn’t leave again until this morning.”
“Thanks, Jackson.” Luke disconnected, more confused than he’d been to begin with. Something must have upset her, but damned if he knew what it was.
He started the Veyron and the engine purred to life. Taking advantage of the lack of traffic on Sunday morning, he made record breaking time to Claire’s house on the other side of town. Her truck was parked in front and Luke let out the breath he’d been holding. She was there. He’d figure out what was going on and then he could get her home and back into his bed, exactly where she should be on a Sunday morning.
He parked and locked his car, taking the porch steps to the front door two at a time. He turned the knob half expecting it to be unlocked. When he couldn’t get in he smiled. She hadn’t been expecting him this time, and she’d actually locked it for a changed. He could hear her playing Adele or some other chick music and he pounded on the door so she could hear him above the noise. The sensor Jackson’s men put on the front door would ring to let her know he was there, but if she wasn’t answering her phone, she might not have it close enough to hear the alarm either.
“Claire English,” he said pounding on the door like he was in a bad Tennessee Williams play. “Get your overworked ass down here and let me in.” He pounded one more time for good measure, relaxing when he heard the music shut off.
She opened the door but instead of launching herself into his arms the way he expected her to she stood in the doorway, blocking him from entering. At the sight of her every cell in his body saidMine, and he leaned toward her needing to close the distance between them. It wasn’t until she flinched from him that he noticed her eyes were red like she’d been crying.
“Sweetheart,” he said, reaching for her. “What’s wrong?”
At the endearment her eyes flashed from pain to anger. He managed not to take a step back, but the look on her face made him want to. She clenched her fists at her sides, and he half expected her to take a swing at him. What he didn’t understand was why. What changed while he was away?
“Claire?” He reached for her, and she slapped his hand away.
He ignored the sting, wrapping his hand around her upper arm. When she raised her hand to hit him again, he caught her wrist with his other hand, pinning her in place.
“Stop it,” he commanded, physically moving her back a step so he could get into the house. From the fire in her eyes he was pretty sure letting go of her was a bad idea. He bumped the door closed with his foot rather than risk it. “Tell me what’s wrong. I haven’t been here so I’m pretty sure it can’t have been anything I’ve done.”
“Fuck you, Masters.” She spat the words at him and he couldn’t stop himself from rising to her challenge.
“That’s exactly what I’d planned to do, sweetheart, but I came home to an empty house. Now, do you want to tell me what’s going on so we can go back to my place and get on with things?” He was exhausted, frustrated, and his patience was frayed. He wanted her home, naked and in his bed. He’d deal with the emotional implications later, after he’d had her a couple dozen times.
“I don’t want to tell you a damn thing, and if you think we’re going to ‘get on with things’ you’ve lost your fucking mind.” She yanked her hands out of his grip, and he let go rather than risk hurting her. As soon as she was free she stalked around him to the front door. “Go fuck Gretchen. I’m done with you. If you aren’t out of my house in thirty seconds, I’m calling the police, then they can print your mug shot next to your society page pictures.” She opened the door, motioning for him to go through.
He had no intention of complying. He had no idea how she found out about Gretchen, but he’d be damned if he let her crucify him for something he didn’t do.
“I don’t know what you think happened, Claire, but you’re wrong.” He closed the door slowly, treating her like a wild animal he was afraid to spook. He’d had a cat when he was a kid. A scrawny little stray he’d kept hidden from his dad. He’d gotten armfuls of scratches trying to pet the damn thing. The cat would watch him and as soon as he made a move it would attack, shredding him. From the looks of her in that moment, Claire had a great deal in common with the cat.
“I saw the pictures,” she said, her voice laced with accusation.
“You may have seen pictures of Gretchen and me at the leukemia benefit, but that’s it. Because nothing happened. I bumped into her. It was unexpected. I hadn’t planned to take her to the benefit.”
Claire blew out her breath in a way that said she clearly didn’t believe him.
