LITMIR.BIZ

       CHAPTER FIVE

      ‘It’s me.’

      Luke heard Sephy’s voice over the intercom. He pressed the buzzer to open the gates that led to the sweeping driveway and newly built Georgian-styled house he had moved into on the success of Zombie Freedom Fighters I, II, and III.

      Was it his imagination or had Sephy’s voice sounded all breathy?

      He shoved his hand through his hair before heading for the imposing double doors in the entrance hall.

      About to open them, he hesitated. It would probably look weird if he was standing at the front door waiting for her to drive up, wouldn’t it?

      Like he couldn’t wait to see her in her underwear, or something?

       You know what, mate? This might not be the brightest idea you’ve ever had.

      In fact, Luke thought, as he hovered uncertainly in his own hallway, he could hardly believe he had thought the idea genius in the first place.

      In his head, he had glossed over the finer points in order to get to the part where he could help her and help himself at the same time. At heart, he had never really expected her to agree.

      But then she had and when she had his first reaction hadn’t been relief he was going to get to allay his foster parents’ fears for him. No, his first reaction had been to feel as if he was falling off the top of a very tall building, and hurtling, eyes wide open, towards the ultimate face-plant.

      He heard the crunch of gravel and made himself return his mug to the kitchen before he wandered back out to throw the door open wide.

      ‘Hey you,’ Sephy greeted, with her usual, full-on, no-artifice smile.

      Luke was still trying to form actual words of welcome when he saw Sephy’s smile falter a little and a frown form over her brow-line.

      She jerked her thumbs in the direction of her car and said, ‘I’ll, um, bring a couple of bags I brought with me in from the car.’

      ‘’Course,’ Luke said belatedly. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’ Christ. Was that even his voice coming out of his mouth? She had done something to her hair that caused it to fall in thick, touchable waves. He shoved his hands into his jeans pockets to keep from reaching out.

      ‘I’ve got it,’ Sephy declared. Pivoting, she walked back to the car, throwing over her shoulder, ‘there’s only two bags.’

      Luke wasn’t completely sure he could have got his feet to move anyway. They seemed rooted to the spot as he stared in fascination at that waterfall of black just-tumbled-out-of-bed hair, bouncing a little as she walked, making the waves ripple up and down.

      She opened up the driver’s door, knelt one knee on the driver’s seat and reached in to bring out the bags she had stored in the passenger-seat foot-well and the air squeezed out of his lungs as his gaze dragged over the soft white denim of her skinny-jeaned derriere.

      He didn’t get it.

      She had always worn her hair long and he knew he’d seen her in those exact-same jeans before and not felt this wall of lust rise up to block his every attempt to find his way back to platonic.

      Was this to be his punishment, then?

      One white lie and his friend was his friend no more. Instead she was an accessory to the crime. One who got his pulse racing and his blood thickening so that it pounded in his ears, while his body hardened to the point where surely she would notice?

      All this and she hadn’t even taken her clothes off yet.

      Maybe he wouldn’t let her take them off after all, because it now seemed as if situation- helpful was turning into situation-most-dangerous-ever.

      ‘So, I brought a few different sets with me,’ Sephy was saying, as she walked towards him with the Seraphic bags swinging from one hand and her car keys clutched in her other, along with her travel mug. ‘I’m nearly sure which ones I want photos of. I guess it depends which suit me better. I’m not exactly model material.’

      He begged to differ and immediately made an exerted effort to stop his thoughts straying down the path clearly marked ‘trouble’. Neither of them needed this backfiring on them.

      ‘I guess if we try lots of different things,’ she hurried on, walking past him into his house, ‘then we can run it all past Frazer when he does the shoot proper. If it goes well today, I’ll get Nora to ring him and set things up for Monday. Would that work for you? Wow,’ she came to an abrupt stop and turned in a slow circle. ‘I can’t believe I haven’t been here before. It’s really big.’ She turned to face him as she said the last words, her eyes looking him up and down and snagging on his jeans zipper before she flushed scarlet.

      Luke shoved his hands deeper into his pockets and prayed to God he wasn’t doing the same.

      Sephy turned away to take in the carved wooden staircase and started rambling like she was on the ultimate caffeine high again. ‘I was thinking on the drive over how strange it was that I’d never actually been here before. I think that’s strange. Don’t you think that’s strange? I guess it’s always been easier to meet at mine because of D –’

      ‘You want to take a breath?’ Luke interrupted, deliberately making his voice as moderate as he thought he could get away with.

      He knew that Sephy hated feeling like she was being manoeuvred, but he figured she was about two steps away from hyperventilating and although he was kind of pleased to see her so unsure of her footing, he knew she would bolt if panic hit full on, and then blame herself for ruining her opportunity to fix her ad campaign.

      ‘What are you talking about?’ Sephy said, turning back to face him. ‘I’m breathing. I’m totally breathing. I’m –’

      ‘How many of those have you had?’ Luke asked, dragging his hand out of his pocket to point at her giant travel mug.

      ‘Oh. This is my first one. I didn’t want to be too, you know.’ She flapped a hand about between them, rolled her eyes and shrugged, and as easy as that they were both smiling at each other.

      ‘Okay. Well, given that I never ask guests to bring their own coffee, shall we go into the kitchen and I’ll make us a fresh batch. We can talk.’

      ‘Talk?’

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