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‘Well? What do you want, Luke?’ she asked and he could hear the exasperation and wondered if it was born from the same well of frustration as his was.
He dragged his gaze off her mouth. ‘I’ve booked a flight out lunchtime tomorrow.’
Something resembling a hammer blow hit Claudia fair in the chest at the unexpected news. Her heart beat painfully behind her ribs; a massive lump lodged itself in her throat making it hard to swallow, hard to breathe. She’d known it was happening soon but not this soon.
Not tomorrow.
She gripped the glass and handle of the spoon tight. ‘I see.’
‘I have to go back for this presentation, for that client I told you about. He only wants me.’
Claudia knew how the mysterious client felt. ‘Okay.’
Luke had been prepared for tears and anger but not this quiet, calm acceptance. ‘I wouldn’t skip out if I didn’t have to.’ More quiet, more calmness from Claudia. ‘It’s my career,’ he added.
‘I said okay.’
The response was snappier and Luke was grateful to see some spark. ‘You don’t need me here, Claude,’ he said gently.
Claudia looked at him, her heart really breaking now. Sure. But what about what she wanted?
This was it. He was really going.
‘You don’t know what I need.’
Luke sighed. She was right—he didn’t. And he sure as hell didn’t want to go there. It was dangerous territory for them both. ‘I’ll be back for the launch, I promise.’
Yeah, but then you’ll be gone again. Claudia shrugged as she looked at him. ‘Don’t bother yourself.’
‘I want to.’
‘Really, there’s no need. We’ve always known where your priorities lay.’
Luke felt lousy. ‘Come on, Claude...I don’t deserve that.’
Claudia shrugged. ‘Just calling it like I see it.’
The unfairness of her statement stung but he chose to plough on. ‘I’ll be back for the opening,’ he reiterated.
‘Fine.’
Luke looked at her. He didn’t like this cool and collected Claudia. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to kiss her or shake her—anything to get some kind of reaction other than just sitting on the bed looking like his leaving was no big deal.
Saying okay and fine as if it were just another day.
‘Hell, Claude.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re hard on a man’s ego.’
‘Yeah, well, newsflash...I’m not here for your ego. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it back in London though.’
Luke shoved his hands on his hips, deciding that shaking was looking like a good option. ‘Fine,’ he snapped. ‘Have it your way.’
And he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind him.
A well of anger lashed Luke’s insides as he strode into his room and began to pace up and down his floor. He knew what he was feeling was irrational. He’d made it clear all along that he was leaving and she was telling him it was fine. Telling him to go.
Making it easy for him.
But he knew all about words like fine and how women used them. If she wasn’t fine with it, why didn’t she just bloody well say so? And would it have killed her to show some kind of disappointment? He hadn’t expected her to throw herself at his feet and beg him not to go; he hadn’t wanted her to cry or cling.
But they’d made a good team, achieved a lot, dragged the Tropicana into the twenty-first century. Yes, there’d been tensions but they’d laughed and joked a lot too, reaffirmed a friendship that had fallen by the wayside.
Some emotion might have been nice. Instead of sitting all calm and cross-legged like some sexy, half-dressed, milk-moustached freaking...yogi!
His stomach took a tumble as his head filled with that vision and Luke clenched his fists. How was it possible to be so angry and want her so much at the same time? How was it possible to be so close to hating her and yet have a massive hard-on for her?
Goddamn it!
He stormed back into her room, not knocking at all this time. The spoon was halfway to her mouth and her eyes flew to his face. He braced his hands on his hips.
‘I can’t stand this any longer.’
She didn’t say anything, just put the spoon back in the glass and waited. And in two strides he was at the bed, he was whisking the glass away and shoving it onto the bedside table, he was pushing her back against the pillows, reaching for the bottom of her awful shirt and in one quick move he’d grabbed both the edges and ripped.
‘Luke,’ Claudia gasped as buttons flew everywhere and her buttercup-yellow bra was exposed to his view.
‘I’ve been wanting to do that for three damn months,’ he growled.
