It Was Only a Kiss - By Joss Wood Page 0,33

again in a hard voice before dropping his hand and heading towards his vehicle parked on the opposite side of the road.

Jess closed her eyes and staggered over to the wall, ignoring the smirking looks of Sbu and the crew. They could think what they wanted...she just needed to get her breath back.

Breath, brain, composure... What the hell was that? She’d never been kissed like that before—an explosive mixture of furious and frustrated. Jess blew her breath into her cheeks and waited for her heart to stop galloping.

Thank goodness she was leaving for home on the red-eye flight tonight...some time away would be a good thing, she thought. That distance-and-perspective thing again.

Jess watched as Luke climbed into his car, his mobile at his ear, looking cool and collected and seemingly unaffected by their kiss. The man didn’t stop working. She knew that filming took a lot of time away from St Sylve and his other business interests, but instead of whining or moaning he just made the best of the situation. He followed instructions, did what he needed to do, and in between shoots and set-ups, he jumped on his laptop or mobile to do what else needed to be done.

She knew that he was under enormous pressure, but nobody would suspect it. Luke just put one foot in front of the other and kept moving forward without fanfare and without drama. He did what he needed to do and she respected that—respected him.

D.I.S.T.A.N.C.E.

Pers...pec...tive.

She now had two mantras: No acting on the attraction—ha, ha! As if that was working—and Keep your distance, find your perspective.

She didn’t think saying mantras was working. Stupid New Age thinking.

* * *

Three hours, a shower and a smart suit later and Luke was still annoyed. And his annoyance concealed a healthy layer of panic. Where had his caveman response to her dating someone else come from? It had been basic, automatic, primal...a reflex rather than a chosen thought...and he didn’t like it. Hell, he hated it.

He’d never felt so jealous, so out of control, so plainly ticked as he had...did...at the thought of Jess with another man. He hadn’t enjoyed the illogical reaction he’d had to the idea—hadn’t appreciated the instinctive roaring in his head that had said this was his woman, his mate. Millions of years of evolution and he was still dragging his knuckles on the ground.

Maybe it was life jabbing him in the ribs? He’d been amused at the thought of Jess being a little green-eyed over the model—it had certainly stroked his ego. He hadn’t once thought that he might be equally...okay, a thousand times more jealous.

Dammit to flipping hell and back.

But date someone else? He didn’t think so.

Luke scowled and took a sip from his glass of ’87 Merlot. Jess, dressed in a short, ruffled black dress and do-me shoes, was across the room, talking to Piers Hanson the food critic. Flirting with Piers Hanson the food critic... It was, Luke decided with a scowl, as natural to her as breathing.

And enough to make him go all caveman again.

There was no way he was going to watch her flirt with anyone else, he decided, even if the man was old enough to be her grandfather. Luke took a last sip of his wine, placed it on the table next to him and excused himself from the group of men around him—friends of his father who were recounting stories that he didn’t want hear. He was a great vintner, an excellent raconteur, the life and soul of the party...

Yeah, you didn’t have to live with him, dude.

Luke walked between the guests, exchanged comments but didn’t get drawn into conversation. He approached Jess from behind and put a hand on her lower back, loving the feminine dip where her back met her buttocks. She knew his touch, Luke decided with satisfaction, because she instinctively stepped closer to him before remembering that they weren’t talking to each other.

‘Luke—Piers was just telling me that he’d love a tour of St Sylve,’ Jess told him, and he saw the warning in her eyes. Be nice, agree. He’s important.

Luke nodded. ‘You’re welcome at any time, of course, but it’s winter and the vines are resting. St Sylve is beautiful in spring and summer.’

‘I think it’s stunning year-round,’ Jess said fervently.

Luke heard the truth in her voice and felt warmth in his gut. He knew it had nothing to do with him. He’d often caught her looking at the buildings, touching the doorframes, staring at the mountains.

Piers