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“No problem,” Matt had said. “Lukas wants to go to Katahdin.”
Feeling hard done by, Holly had said shortly, “Let him.”
“He wants me to go, too. It’ll be a change from working on the boat. And you’re going to be busy anyway.”
So Matt had gone—and had broken his leg. Which was how Holly had ended up with Lukas as her date to her senior prom.
“I won’t go,” she’d told Matt. “No way.”
Matt had looked at her from his hospital bed, foggy-eyed with anesthetic. “Of course you have to go. You already have your dress,” he reminded her the day after he’d had half a dozen screws and a plate put in his left leg. “You’ve been counting on it.”
“I don’t mind staying home. Truly. Lukas doesn’t want to go with me. He doesn’t even like me.”
“Of course he likes you. He’s just...”
“Bossy? Opinionated? Wrong?”
And though she could still see the strain and pain on Matt’s face, he had laughed. “All of the above. It’s just the way he is. Ignore it. It’s your prom. And Lukas should take you,” he added grimly. “It was his idea to go climbing. He owes me.”
No doubt about that. But Holly was sure Lukas would refuse. She was stunned when he didn’t.
“Why?” she’d demanded suspiciously.
“Because he understands responsibility,” Matt said, looking completely serious.
She should have said no then. She hadn’t, telling herself that arguing with Matt would make him unhappy. It might also make him wonder why she was protesting so much. Holly wouldn’t even let herself think about why she was protesting so much.
She didn’t want to think about Lukas, about how when he wasn’t irritating her, the very sight of his muscular chest, lopsided grin and sun-tipped shaggy hair made her blood run hot in her veins.
It meant nothing. She was engaged to Matt.
Still, she wasn’t prepared two weeks later when she opened the door to Lukas, drop-dead gorgeous in a dark suit, pristine white shirt and deep red tie, for the impact of six feet of walking testosterone. The sheer animal magnetism of the man made all Holly’s female hormones flutter in appreciation while her brain screamed, No! No, no, no!
But she could hardly send him home. What would she tell Matt?
So she pasted her best proper smile on her face and tried to pretend she was completely indifferent. Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, he smiled and chatted and charmed her mother. Yes, he brought her a corsage, which he fastened just above her left breast, standing far too close for comfort, so close that she could smell a hint of pine in his aftershave and see the tiny cut on his jaw where he’d nicked himself shaving.
She leaned toward it instinctively, then jerked back, practically getting herself stabbed by a florist’s pin in the process. “Sorry,” she muttered, mortified. “Sorry.”
He just smiled his engaging Lukas smile, the I’m-so-sexy one she had seen him turn on other girls but which until that moment he had, thank God, never turned on her.
“It looks good on you,” he said. It was a spray of tiny deep red roses. Delicate and aromatic. She drew a breath, trying to draw in the scent of roses to blot out the pine of his aftershave, to blot out Lukas.
But Lukas wouldn’t be blotted.
Worse, he unnerved her by being a perfect gentleman the whole time. He didn’t tease, he didn’t mock. He didn’t mention Matt or their engagement at all. He took her to dinner before the dance. It was expected. And Holly had thought they would go to one of the trendy upscale local places where most of her classmates went to see and be seen. But Lukas took her to a quiet romantic Italian place where he seemed to know everyone.
Holly couldn’t help looking surprised.
“We don’t have to go here,” Lukas said. “But I like it. It’s a little lower-key.”
Since when was Lukas lower-key? But Holly had nodded, glad they weren’t in the midst of a crowd. There might have been safety in numbers, but there would also have been lots of questions about what she was doing with Lukas, why she wasn’t with Matt.
They’d get asked at the dance, of course, but they wouldn’t become a conversation piece there. Holly didn’t want to be a conversation piece. “It’s fine,” she said. “I like it.” She managed her first real smile of the evening then, one that didn’t feel as if it had been welded to her lips.
Lukas smiled, too. Electricity arced between them—sharp and frighteningly genuine. “I’m glad,” Lukas said.
