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No—she was just being fanciful! Picking up the remote for the television, she switched on the history channel and tried to concentrate on a brilliant documentary about Ancient Egypt.
She gave up after ten minutes and wandered around the room, touching her much-loved mementos but still feeling on edge. She headed upstairs. A relaxing bath and then an early night was what she needed. It was her turn to go to the flower market at five the following morning.
Two hours later she was in the king-sized bed she had shared with Alan, but sleep eluded her. She stirred restlessly, finally turning to lie flat on her back, staring blankly at the ceiling. She lifted a finger to her slightly swollen lips, and to her shame it was Luke's kiss that she recalled. Flickering images of their past encounters spun haphazardly through her brain.
Her shock at seeing Luke's darkly attractive face last night at the party was overlaid by a vivid mental image of his magnificent naked body as he knelt between her thighs on another bed in another country. Heat flooded through her, and she groaned and turned over to bury her head in the pillow in an attempt to block out the memories. But it was no good. The past had come back to haunt her in the shape of one Luke Devetzi.
Thinking about him now, she realised it had been a peculiar trick of fate that had brought herself and Luke together. The death of her husband a year earlier and the imminent death of her much-loved aunt coupled with her disappointment over her wedding ring, and then the final blow, when those louts had knocked wine all over her. In her distress she had lifted a tear-glazed gaze to her rescuer, and, because she had so much wanted it to be, she had imagined it was the blue eyes of her husband that smiled back at her.
Later, Luke had shown her to a luxurious cabin and, taking a silk robe from a closet, had dropped it on the bed with the words, 'Strip out of your stained clothes and have a shower, use the robe. I will be back later to collect your clothes and have someone clean them for you.'
Like an automaton. Jemma had agreed. Ten minutes later she'd walked out of the shower room and back into the cabin, wearing only white lace panties and with her dirty clothes in one hand. She'd reached for the robe on the bed just as a knock had sounded on the door and Luke had walked in. He'd said something in Greek she hadn't understood, but the mesmerising effect of his eyes had seemed to paralyse her, and when he'd walked towards her, cupped her chin in one lean hand and said almost reverently. You are so beautiful. Mimie,' she had made no demur.
Thinking about it now. Jemma realised with hindsight that she had been in a state of shock. No man but Alan had ever seen her almost naked. And no man but Alan had ever called her Mimie or told her she was beautiful. So it was hardly surprising that when Luke had kissed her with a piercing, sweet tenderness she had responded.
Stirring restlessly in the bed, Jemma groaned out loud. However much she tried to deny it, what had happened next with Luke had been nothing like what she had experienced with her husband.
Luke's hands had caressed her body and shaped her breasts, his tongue thrusting between her parted lips, igniting a consuming heat that had sent shock waves crashing through her body. When he'd finally broken the kiss to speedily strip his clothes from his body she had stood trembling violently, her amber eyes roaming in helpless fascination over his magnificent bronzed frame. Before she'd had time to recover her senses he had lifted her in his arms, whispering huskily voiced endearments as he lowered her to the bed.
The passion had exploded between them with the next touch of his mouth on hers, and in a fever of kisses and caresses Luke had made love to her with a wildly erotic, powerful passion that she had mindlessly returned. She had closed her eyes to the world, and for a while her world had been the man whose arms had enfolded her, whose body had desired hers. They had touched and tasted each other in a frenzy of need that had finally culminated in a wondrous climax that left them both sweat slicked, sated and fighting to breathe.
Thinking about that night now was too much for Jemma, and, giving up any hope of sleep, she slipped out of bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen to make a cup of hot milk.
Everything would look better in the morning, she told herself. Luke Devetzi was gone, and he was never likely to come back after the way she had insulted him. And, given that he was Jan's boyfriend, what was the worst that could happen? If Jemma ever bumped into him on the few occasions she visited her father's house she need exchange nothing with him beyond polite social niceties.
CHAPTER FIVE
Lugging the last box of flowers from the back of her estate car, Jemma staggered into the shop and put the box down, heaving a sigh of relief. Much as she liked choosing blooms in the flower market, she was not mad about getting up at the crack of dawn. Still, it was a job well done, Jemma told herself, and headed for the bench that contained two sinks and a kettle and much-needed coffee.
The five a.m. start had not been a problem this morning, because she had barely slept last night, but it was catching up with her now. Thankfully she sat down at the desk and took a refreshing swallow of coffee. Everything looked much better in the clear light of day. She had her business, her friends, her own house and small garden, and after a disastrous weekend she was back to normal, with Luke Devetzi out of her life for good. Draining the mug, she got to her feet and set about unpacking her purchases. Some she put in buckets of water, others she placed on the shelves that lined one wall of the room.
By the time Liz arrived, at nine, Jemma had redesigned the window display and the shop was open for business.
'The place looks great,' Liz declared, and crossed to where Jemma stood propping up the counter. 'But you look like hell.'
'Thanks a bunch,' Jemma shot back 'No pun intended.' She tried to joke in the hope of diverting Liz from the questions that would surely follow.
'I know I said it was time you began to live a little, but you look as if you have burnt the candle at both ends and eaten the middle! Waxen springs to mind… It must have been one heck of a birthday party.' Liz chuckled. 'Come on—tell all. It's the only way this harassed mum gets a thrill these days.'
Jemma knew Liz adored her husband Peter, and her two-year-old son Thomas, and wouldn't change her lifestyle for the world, and she grinned back. 'You're a fibber and there's nothing to tell. It was Dad and Leanne's usual crowd, and I left early at about ten. End of story.'
'You're not fobbing me off like that! At least tell me what Jan's new man looks like. Name, rank, and serial womanizer? Or serious prospect in the marriage stakes?' Liz queried cheekily. 'Fit and handsome or old and fat? The money is a given, knowing Jan.'
Jemma knew Liz wouldn't shut up until she had the full story, but on this occasion she had no intention of telling her everything…
'Tall, dark, and not bad-looking; not old—mid to late thirties, I guess. As for being a marriage prospect, I very much doubt it. He looked like the womanising type to me. But Jan is certainly smitten, and he is filthy rich.'
'And his name is…?'
'Luke something—Devetzi, I think.' She didn't want to seem too sure, as Liz had a nose like a bloodhound when it came to digging out secrets.
'Oh, my God! I don't believe it.' Liz exclaimed. 'You met the Luke Devetzi—the financial wizard, the international banker? Not bad-looking! Are you blind, Jemma? The man is a
serious hunk. But you're right about the womanising; I've seen his photograph dozens of times in the top magazines, usually with a stunning woman on his arm. I don't fancy Jan's chances of dragging him to the altar; he's definitely not the settling-down type. But, hey—' Liz winked '—Jan's still a very lucky girl to get a man like that in her bed for her birthday. I wouldn't mind him as a present for a night.'
'Liz, you're disgraceful—and you a married woman,' Jemma quipped, but inside she felt sick. How come Liz and apparently the whole world had heard of Luke Devetzi? She hadn't known him from Adam and had stupidly fallen into bed with him. Still, on the up side, after what Liz had just told her she need have no fear of Luke seeking her out. An undeniably attractive, incredibly wealthy man with a world of fawning women to choose from was never going to bother Jemma again.
'I can dream, can't I?' Liz said, her dark eyes twinkling wickedly.
