this shirt. I’d forgotten about it.’
Jess thought about mentioning that if he cleared the cupboard out he’d be amazed at what he found. But it wasn’t her house, he wasn’t her boyfriend... She changed the subject. ‘Why don’t you have a photo of your father up with the rest of your family?’
‘Because, while he might have been my father, he wasn’t my family.’ Luke snapped the words off.
Whoa! And didn’t that tell her a whole lot about their father-son relationship?
‘Can we get going? I still have real work to do today,’ Luke said, gesturing to the door.
Jess nodded and walked out of the room. Her family might drive her utterly insane, but she couldn’t imagine not having them in her life. If Luke had lost his mother when he was three, and if his father hadn’t been much of a father, as his previous statement implied, then that meant Luke had grown up without any sort of parental support system...
Jess felt her heart clench. He might have grown up on this beautiful estate, in a house full of very old furniture, but it sounded as if he’d grown up alone. Nobody, she decided, should grow up like that.
FIVE
Luke watched from his lounge as Jess said goodbye to a strawberry blonde who had just deposited a massive art folder into the boot of her car. She hugged Jess before climbing into her car, and they spent another minute or two chatting before the car moved down the driveway. He saw Jess rub her arms as she turned around to head back to the manor house. Her blonde hair was tousled by the wind, and in her black jeans and short cream jacket she looked just as fresh as she had that morning—if he ignored the shadows under her eyes and the tension in her shoulders.
Luke saw her look at his front door, saw the indecision cross her face and caught the small shake of her head. She wouldn’t invade his privacy, wouldn’t step over the line between work and play by inviting herself in for a drink, a meal, a roll in the sack.
Luke half smiled. Please feel free to invade my privacy, he silently told Jess, especially if you have more in mind.
Jess walked over to the manor house. It was a lonely place, huge and oppressive, and he’d spent huge chunks of his life in it alone. On a cold winter’s night it could be gloomy, and he didn’t want Jess in the house on her own tonight.
Or maybe he didn’t want to be on his own tonight, Luke thought. After a crazy day being trailed by cameras he also wanted something normal. A hot meal, a glass of wine, some company.
Before he could talk himself out of inviting Jess over, Luke walked into the hall, grabbed his jacket off the newel post and shrugged it on, and opened the front door. He grimaced at the icy wind and wondered if Jess was warm enough at night. The manor house had no central heating—his father had spent money like a Russian oil billionaire but refused to spend money to warm the house. There was a down duvet on her bed and a heater in her room, and the study had a fireplace—God, he’d forgotten to get some wood to her—but if she wanted to sit in one of the many lounges she’d need a ski-suit.
Luke hunched his shoulders up around his ears as he walked around the house and up the back stairs to the kitchen. Slipping into the room, he blew on his fingers and looked around the empty space. The kettle was on, and a teabag was in the mug next to it...
Luke stepped from the kitchen into the passageway and stood at the bottom of a second simple staircase. In the old days it had been the servants’ staircase, and as a boy the only one he’d ever used.
‘Hi.’
Luke looked up and saw Jess leaning on the short strip of banister on the first floor. ‘Hey. I was wondering if you’d like to have supper with me.’
Jess grinned. ‘What’s on the menu?’
‘Since you cook like a first-year uni student, you can’t afford to be picky,’ Luke told her. ‘Get down here and come see.’
Jess’s smile held enough energy to power a rainbow, Luke thought as she disappeared from view. Two seconds later she was at the top of the stairs and lifting her buttock onto the railing. ‘Jess—no!’
Luke instinctively moved to the end of the railing