“In that case,” Joey continued, cutting through his dazed admiration, “let’s do as you once suggested and start over, shall we?” Suddenly her smile was broad and bright and very far from sensual. Luke felt a wall rise up between them almost as daunting as her earlier coolness.
“By all means,” he answered. So she was trying a different tack with him—or so it seemed. He managed to keep the grim edge from his smile as he fell into step beside her.
She chattered about something inconsequential with a false vivacity that nettled him as he nodded in time to her comments. Joey Randall thought she might hold him at bay, behind a wall built of light words and the charm she’d withheld from him in the past. She hoped to string him along, keeping him at a safe distance, encouraging but never quite issuing an invitation. Other women had done it before, but none with any hope of success. Unfortunately those women hadn’t been Joelle Randall.
Luke grinned, and Joey didn’t seem to notice the promise implicit in the expression. She was different, this one, but she was still a woman. He had felt something unmistakable: Joey was playing a dangerous game—with him and with her own desire.
And he would let the contest play out to its inevitable conclusion.
As she entered the post office, glancing a smile back over her shoulder, he held the door open for her with a mocking bow.
Play your game, Joey, he thought as he watched her hungrily. You won’t see the trap in time to escape it.
Joey felt that things were going very well indeed. And, surprisingly, Luke Gévaudan’s company had not been as disagreeable as she’d expected. He could be quite charming when he wasn’t playing the wolf out to snare the newest babe in town.
The only difficult part was the uneasy feeling that she actually liked the intensity of his regard. He seemed to have taken her increased friendliness at face value. If his pursuit was less ferocious, it was no less determined.
They sat now on a bench outside the tiny bank, where Joey had completed arrangements to withdraw funds for the coming week. Her money was not going to hold out forever—but with any luck, it wouldn’t have to. She smiled sideways at Luke and tried not to stare at the firm line of his jaw, the peculiar color of his eyes. She felt herself squirming on the polished wood of the bench as last night’s dream came back to her.
The dreams hadn’t gone away, either. They had only grown more powerful, and more undeniable. If she hadn’t had her goals in mind…
But she did. “Tell me more about growing up here, Luke. It must have been pretty lonely, with so few children your own age. I understand they don’t even have enough kids now to justify a school, and they have to send them by bus all the way over to East Fork.”
She gave him her full attention, which wasn’t difficult, even her conversation was not without purpose. To draw him out, yes—to get him to trust her as well as desire her, to use whatever means necessary to set him up for her request. But she also found herself wanting to know about him—and why faces always turned to him when he passed, and people whispered about his “differences.”
His face seemed relaxed, his pose was that strange combination of utter ease and complete alertness that she couldn’t remember seeing in any other man she’d ever met. But again and again she sensed some part of him closed off, even as he did his best to charm her into his bed.
“I doubt it’s ever easy being a kid, no matter where you grow up,” he answered with a casual stretch. His eyes grew hooded and drifted away from hers, as if he found the topic tedious.
“But you had some higher education,” she persisted after a moment. “Where did you go to college? I understand the university system up here is quite good.” She tried a flirtatious toss of her head. “If you’ll forgive me for being blunt, it’s pretty obvious you’ve had exposure to a lot more”—she coughed delicately—”diversity than Lovell might ordinarily provide.”