Page 22 of Sparring Partners
“Jonathan’s not my boyfriend.”
“That’s not what he thinks.”
Another bubble of irritation burst inside of Luca. Jonathan and Adrian, they were both wrong, making assumptions they had no damn right to make.
“Jonathan’s a friend, and that’s all. Not that it’s any of your business.”
Adrian’s tightly crossed arms slipped undone. His lips turned up in a not quite smile, but it was enough to thaw his icy, hard expression “True enough. I think you’ve already cottoned on to tact not being one of my strong points.”
“Well, you can say that again.” Luca tried to sound affronted, but his irritation was deflating like a burst tyre. He sighed. “Alex introduced me to him soon after I arrived — thought I’d like him and that we’d have a lot in common.”
“And do you?”
Luca’s breath caught in his throat. Everything about Adrian was still as he watched him carefully, seeming to see beyond the surface. Luca’s skin tingled, and he took a sip of his drink, unsure why he needed to buy time before he answered.
“Like him, or have a lot in common?”
“You tell me.”
Luca didn’t have to, he really didn’t have to, because whatever he did, whom ever he liked, it was none of Adrian’s?—
“He’s a friend, so yes, of course I like him.” This was none of Adrian’s business, the man had no right to ask, to pick away at him. He didn’t have to answer any of Adrian’s questions… “He’s a very nice man. We share a lot of interests. The way friends do.” Why did that sound like so much faint praise?
“Nice?” Adrian cocked a brow. “That’s a ringing endorsement. It’s up there with ‘pleasant’.”
“And what’s wrong with that? There are a lot worse things a person can be.” Luca threw the words out with more force than he’d meant. What he wouldn’t have given forniceandpleasantnot so long ago, no matter how dull those words may have sounded.
“I’m sorry,” Adrian said, his voice gruff. “I’ve offended you and I didn’t mean to. And you’re right, it isn’t my business.” He downed the rest of his drink before he got up. “Come on, I’ll take you back.”Adrian was already striding towards the door and, as another burst of thunder crashed above the pub, Luca raced to follow.
CHAPTERELEVEN
Adrian squinted through the rain lashed windscreen. Gusty wind beat against them as the storm raged in the sky above. Next to him, in the close confines of the Land Rover and in the gloomy light from the dashboard, Adrian was acutely aware of Luca’s presence. Too aware, more aware than he wanted to be, way more aware than he’d been of any man for far too long.
“Driving in this sort of weather’s hell.”
Adrian glanced across. Even in the shadowed darkness Luca looked contrite, as though the bad whether was somehow his fault. The tightness in Adrian’s jaw loosened.
“This is nothing. Just a shower, really.”
Luca laughed, and Adrian smiled in response. “If you say so. Glad I’m not driving, though. It’s not perhaps my most accomplished skill.”
Whatisyour best skill…The unbidden thought, sudden and raw, flashed through Adrian, burning through his blood. Staring ahead, he resisted the urge look at Luca.
The driveway leading to The New House loomed up in the headlights, and Adrian turned onto it, wheels crunching over the gravel. Rounding a bend, the hotel came into full view, lit up by soft white lights.
“There’s a narrow road, just on the left,” Luca said. “It’s out of bounds to guests, as it leads towards the cottage and further on to Alex and Ryan’s place.”
Adrian made the turn, the big four wheeled drive taking up the whole width. His headlights picked out the cat’s eyes as the road wound its way through dense woods.
“You don’t live in the hotel?”
“God, no. If I did, I’d be on duty 24/7. Not that I’m already not, because that’s the nature of the job, but having my own accommodation gives me some kind of separation, which is vital. Look, up ahead.”
A cottage came into view; like the hotel the exterior walls were warmly lit by soft white lights. Adrian pulled up on the driveway. The place looked inviting and homely.
“It’s lovely.” Adrian switched the windscreen wipers off, the rain immediately obliterating the view, but left the engine running.
“It is. Alex is a genius at renovating — no wonder his company’s made such a name for itself. The place was a tumbled down wreck; it was all but impossible to believe it could be turned into something habitable, let alone anything remotely comfortable or stylish. I’ve got settled here, and I’ll miss it when I leave.”
