Page 16 of Mission: Make-Over


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Just what the hell had he got himself into? And why? He shook his head in self-resignation. He didn’t really need to ask himself that question, did he? But until tonight he had managed to convince himself that his motives were, if not a hundred per cent altruistic, then at least ninety-nine per cent so.

Of course, what had happened tonight had blown that self-delusion totally apart. It had all been very well reminding himself at the start of how, as he had watched Lucianna growing up, he had often had to bite hard on his tongue to stop himself from quarrelling with her brothers, his friends, about the way they were treating their younger sister. Not that any of them had meant to hurt or harm her—it was just that because of their own upbringing they were unaware of how they were inhibiting her development as a woman, confident and happy in her femininity and her sexuality. He had seen…known, but then for him it was different. For a start, he wasn’t Lucianna’s brother.

Swearing under his breath, he poured himself another drink, going to sit down in one of the chairs drawn up close to the fire, resting his head back and closing his eyes.

He could still vivi

dly remember the day, the hour, the moment he had recognised just how he really felt about his friends’ baby sister, just why, when he was out on a date, instead of enjoying his date’s company, he was constantly comparing her with Lucianna, knowing that he would rather be with her, enjoying her wickedly sharp sense of humour and its contrast with her still very naive emotions.

He had gone round to the farm to see David, the kitchen door had been open and he had walked in. The telephone, which was located in the kitchen, had started to ring. Upstairs he had heard a door open and then Lucianna had come running downstairs and into the kitchen, hastily wrapping a thin towelling robe around her wet and totally naked body as she did so.

As soon as she had seen him she had crimsoned with embarrassment, a floodtide of colour which had run up her body, scorching her tender, pale skin, filling her nipples with hot colour which had made them look…

Jake swallowed hard. There were some memories that haunted a man for all his life, some sins. She had been all of sixteen and he…He swallowed again. He doubted he would ever get over the sense of shock and self-disgust he had felt at the urge to take hold of her, to wrap her in his arms and plunder the tight virginity of those thrusting, colour-flushed nipples with the hot suckle of his mouth, until she twisted and arched against him, returning the white heat of passion that was coursing through him, scorching him, torturing him, possessing him with the same overwhelming fury with which he wanted to possess her.

Of course he had done no such thing. Of course he had forced himself to turn away whilst she turned and ran back upstairs, and of course neither of them had ever referred to the incident again. But from then on he had taken good care to distance himself from her both physically and emotionally…especially emotionally.

But, of course, it had been too little and far too late. He had been a man then, more than old enough to recognise what he was experiencing, even if that recognition had been coloured by his own distaste, his disgust with himself for falling in love with someone who was still only a girl…a child.

He had tried to cut himself off from what he was feeling, calling himself a pervert and worse, but none of it had done any good. He had, however, comforted himself that he was at least in control of his feelings, totally and absolutely…Until tonight…

And he still wasn’t sure just what it had been about seeing her this evening that had destroyed the barriers he had painstakingly built to protect her. Certainly he hadn’t enjoyed hearing her talking about John, and certainly the mental image he had had of her kissing him had stretched his self-control to its limits. But it had been more than that, he recognised. There had also been that new air she had about her, that subtle but oh, so alluring sudden awareness of herself as a woman, which he had returned to find her wearing like a little girl pirouetting proudly in her new dress.

How long would it be before she became even more self-aware, before she realised just why he was so determined to hold her at arm’s length? And when she did—what then?

He glanced at the telephone. The temptation to ring the farm and say that their arrangement was off was almost overwhelming. It would be easy enough to invent some business trip that would keep him out of the way for a few weeks, but he already knew that he wouldn’t do it, that he couldn’t do it.

If he loved her as much as he claimed, then surely he loved her enough to help her get what she wanted, the man she wanted. And perhaps once she was safely engaged to him, married to him, he would finally be able to get on with his life.

Lucianna might not be a child any longer, but her feelings for him were still those she had had as a child. She still disliked and distrusted him and there was no way now that he could tell her just why he had had to make her feel like that towards him—no way, no point.

He closed his eyes again. Had she any idea just how close he had come this evening to totally losing control? Just how much he had wanted, ached for her?

‘I thought Jake wasn’t picking you up until two,’ Janey commented with a smile as she caught Lucianna glancing through the kitchen window.

‘He’s not,’ Lucianna agreed, flushing slightly.

‘You know, if I didn’t know better,’ her sister-in-law teased, ‘I’d think you were actually looking forward to this shopping trip.’

‘Which just goes to show the sacrifices a woman is prepared to make to get her man,’ David interjected, saving Lucianna from the need to defend herself and deny Janey’s allegations.

They had told her this morning that, just as she had suspected, Janey was pregnant, and she had felt quite pleased to be able to say truthfully to them that she had half suspected as much.

‘That sounds like Jake now,’ Janey warned her as a car pulled into the yard. ‘Looks like he’s as eager for this shopping expedition as you are…!’

‘Eager to get it over with,’ David muttered. ‘I hate shopping…’

‘If that’s the opening shot in a campaign of getting out of going to choose the nursery equipment, then it’s one you’re not going to win,’ Janey told him cheerfully, laughing at his expression. ‘And, unlike you, Jake enjoys shopping, and he’s got excellent taste, unlike some men I could name.’

To Lucianna’s surprise, once they were in the car Jake announced that he wasn’t taking her into the local town but to a new shopping complex which had recently been opened several miles closer to the city.

Lucianna had heard about the complex via one of her customers, who had visited it to buy her outfit for her daughter’s wedding. And, whereas the old Lucianna would immediately have objected that there was no point in him taking her there, since she had no intention of listening to his dictatorial views on what she should and shouldn’t wear, this new Lucianna found that she was actually having to suppress a small bubble of female excitement as well as the sudden rush of apprehension and familiar dread that the thought of having to go into the—to her—unfamiliar and alien world of clothes normally gave her.

From her books she now understood that how a woman chose to present herself visually carried a very strong non-verbal message, and that the male sex was highly receptive and indeed vulnerable to visual messages.

And as for the impulse which had led her the other day to buy a couple of unbelievably expensive and glossy fashion magazines along with her newspaper and the new car magazine she had originally intended to buy, well, she’d told herself that if she had to endure the self-inflicted torture of having Jake boss her around and tell her what to do she might as well grab what extra help she could to make sure she kept her ordeal as short-lived as possible.

Once she had got over the shock at their cost and past her initial reluctance to turn the first page, she had discovered the cut and line of expensive clothes was, in many ways, as interesting to study as the design of a new car, and she had quickly found that, as with cars, her taste ran to the clean and simple, which would endure, rather than the fussy and over-ornamented—styles which were gimmicky.

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