Luca's Bad Girl - By Amy Andrews Page 0,32

at The Harbour always talked about what a maverick he was, what a legend. They held him in awe, hoisted him on high like some kind of trophy, made him untouchable. Like he was a machine, a robot. But they seemed to forget, underneath it all he was also a man.

But she hadn’t. She’d seen the man today.

And men needed to be touched too.

Finn probably most of all.

Finn wasn’t really listening to Suzy as she prattled on about some movie she’d just seen. He didn’t want her there, he didn’t want to talk or make light conversation.

He didn’t want to hook up. Even if Suzy was extremely attractive and obviously up for it.

He came to Pete’s for one reason only. To drink.

Sure, he could drink at home. And he’d do that too. But drinking a little in public tempered the urge to drink a lot when he got back to his apartment.

The Scotch helped with the pain from his injuries and it helped obliterate the events that had caused them.

Suzy couldn’t do that. No woman could. Not even Lydia.

And then Evie’s lovely face entered his vision and for one crazy moment panic rose in him as he thought he’d conjured her up. But then she pushed the heavy door open wider and their gazes met.

For a moment there was a shimmer of recognition between them, a whisper of what they’d both endured together, and then she smiled at him, a smile that seemed to see right inside him. A smile that said, I know you’re hurting; let me help you.

And for one mad instant he wanted that. He wanted to feel again what he’d felt that afternoon in the change room cocooned against her. That strange kind of peace—like nothing he’d ever known.

The panic intensified.

The sheer power of these strange, unwanted feelings Evie evoked overwhelmed him. He dragged his gaze away, his heart beating like that of a wild animal suddenly caged and fighting for his life. She didn’t know him. She didn’t know anything about him. How could she? Princess Evie couldn’t even begin to comprehend where he’d come from, the things he’d seen, the promises he’d broken.

He turned to Suzy and dazzled her with a smile. ‘Whaddya say we get out of here?’

Evie, her heart light as she spotted Finn, made a direct line for him. She stopped three paces later when she realised he wasn’t alone. The smile he gave the blonde, one she’d seen him with here before, took her breath away and she struggled with the sudden urge to turn on her heel and run.

Or slap someone. Back off!

But he wasn’t hers to make such an order. The realisation brought with it a sudden crushing sense of despair. Just because they’d shared a moment, that didn’t make him hers.

Finn smiled down at Suzy as she leaned forward and whispered in his ear. Her cleavage was exposed to his view and he looked his fill.

It was an impressive cleavage and he was a man, damn it.

A man who appreciated a woman’s body but did not get emotionally involved with them. And the sooner Evie got that through her head, the better.

He wasn’t some wounded hero that needed saving. He was a cantankerous bastard beyond redemption.

‘C’mon,’ he said, sliding off the stool, putting his hand out to help Suzy off hers but looking directly over her head, meeting Evie’s shocked look with practised indifference. ‘Let’s go back to my place.’

Evie couldn’t move for a moment, the cold of Finn’s piercing gaze freezing her to the spot. He seemed totally unreachable as his eyes told her things he couldn’t say in a crowded bar.

Like, what happened this afternoon meant nothing.

You mean nothing.

Suzy smiled up at Finn, disconcerted to find he wasn’t looking at her. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’

Finn dragged his gaze away from the emotions in Evie’s hazel eyes. There was hurt and disgust and even a touch of scorn.

And he deserved every one of them.

He threw another dazzler Suzy’s way before tucking her hand in his, straightening his back and making a beeline for the door.

Evie watched him go, a veritable storm of emotions raging inside. Anger, repulsion, despair.

Where was the Finn from earlier? The one who had leaned into her and told her she was brilliant?

She looked back to find Pete watching her. He was holding up a cold beer and a shot glass and his gaze radiated warmth and sympathy.

Thank God for Pete.

CHAPTER SEVEN

TWENTY minutes later Charlie drained his glass and stood. ‘I’m going