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She waved Luke toward a tall stool next to the kitchen’s long preparation island and filled the small aluminum bowl with ice. She wrapped the towel around several cubes, stepped close and leaned her hip against the island as she held it to his eye.
“You just rest a minute,” she urged. “I feel shaky, and no one was throwing punches at me.”
“I’m not shaken, just disgusted. Did you ever get into a fight over a boy when you were in high school?” he asked.
She adjusted the makeshift ice pack and, thinking it a wonderful excuse to touch him, she smoothed his silvery hair off his forehead. Thick and soft, it slid through her fingers like silk. He didn’t seem to notice, but she was embarrassed to be fondling him and quickly dropped her free hand.
“I beg your pardon?” she asked absently. She could hear the water running in the shower in the restroom located behind the kitchen, but Mabel and the kitchen volunteers had left for the day, and they were quite alone.
“Never mind. It always amazes me when girls fight over some guy who’s not worth a lengthy argument, let alone a fistfight.”
“I imagine when you can carry all you own in a backpack, even a worthless boyfriend takes on immense value. Will you really ban them permanently if they start another fight?”
“We have to have rules here, Catherine, or we’d have chaos. Too many of these kids reject any type of authority, but if they’re ever to fit in anywhere, they have to learn to abide by the rules. Even the fast-food places insist upon shoes and shirts.”
She added another cube to the ice pack, but he was still going to have a colorful black eye. He had very nice eyes with long lashes any woman would envy. That he was so attractive had always been an unwanted distraction, however, and she focused on making her point.
“I understand that, but these are kids who’ve run away, or been thrown away, and it seems cruel to ban them from one of the few places they’re welcome. Besides, it will be impossible for you to teach them any valuable lessons about getting along in the world if they aren’t allowed in the door.”
Luke raised his hand to cover hers. “Look, I’m trying to keep these kids safe and well while they gain their independence, and then we build from there. I have to earn their trust, and being consistent is the only way to do it.”
His hand provided a welcome heat against the icepack’s chill, but she was uncertain whether he was merely attempting to convince her he was right or to thoroughly distract her. She liked the touch of his hand against hers, but in this setting, it was completely inappropriate. Still she couldn’t bring herself to pull away.
Then she made the mistake of meeting his gaze, and what she saw was the clear reflection of the desire that deepened his voice whenever he spoke her name. He was no more able to concentrate on their current argument than she, and all she wanted to do was lean in and kiss him long and hard.
“I hate to interrupt such a tender scene,” a striking young woman called from the doorway, “but I need to speak with Luke.”
Although startled, Luke gave Catherine’s hand a light squeeze before he grabbed the now soggy towel and tossed it into the bowl of ice. He shoved himself to his feet and provided polite, if terse, introductions.
“You know the routine, Marsha,” he scolded. “Call my attorney and schedule an appointment.”
“That will cost us both money, and all I need is a minute. You owe me that much.” A petite blonde, Marsha was dressed to absolute perfection in a pale pink suit with a matching handbag and stiletto heels.
“I don’t owe you a damn thing,” Luke shot right back at her.
All curiosity about Luke’s ex-wife satisfied, Catherine moved past her to dump the bowl of ice in the sink. She wrung out the towel and hung it over the side.
“I’m sure you’ll excuse me. I have books to sort.”
Marsha turned to watch Catherine leave. “Nice clothes. I see your type has changed.”
“With good reason. I wish you hadn’t come here, but since you have, let’s go on over to my office.” He walked out and across the courtyard without bothering to look back to see if she was following until he reached the office building and yanked open the door. Unfortunately, she was right behind him.
“Hold my calls, please, Pam.”
“Yes, sir,” Pam responded without looking away from her computer screen.
Once in his office, Luke leaned against the room’s single windowsill rather than take a seat behind his desk. “How much do you need this time?”
“It isn’t always about money,” Marsha denied hotly. She sat on the side of one of the visitor chairs to face him, crossed her legs and adjusted the drape of her skirt. “It’s just that sales have been off at the boutique, and I need a few thousand to tide me over until business improves.”
Luke surveyed the parking lot. That he could ever have been married to this soulless bitch filled him with shame, but that was all. “Your own attorney described your divorce settlement as more than generous. I’m no longer obligated to support you. Ask the bank for a business loan, or tap your partners.”
“After all the years we were together, I shouldn’t have to beg,” Marsha cried with a convincing catch in her voice.
Luke straightened up as Catherine crossed the parking lot with a long, sure stride. She slid into her car, and he waited for her to look his way and wave, but she drove off as though she couldn’t get away from him fast enough. He tried to believe it was just as well she was gone, but he was disappointed by the abrupt end to their latest exchange.
His head was beginning to ache, and he was in no mood to deal with Marsha’s tantrums. “You asked for the divorce. Now you’ll have to deal with the consequences of being on your own.”
