That's Amore! - Janelle Denison [81]
Meg's stare remained focused squarely on her husband. Rachel's, however, was directed at the man beside Joe. At Luke's thick arms, revealed by the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. His sweat slickened skin over taut muscles. Those powerful hands carefully turning the furniture and the thick legs straining against his dress slacks as he moved a finished section out of the way.
"If the shirts start coming off, I'm outta here," Lottie said, "because the two of you are going to float me away with your drool."
Rachel flushed a little, wondering what the other women would think of her drooling over any of the men here, all of whom were attached.
"Good grief, Lottie, I know they're your brothers, but you have to admit, they're a darn fine-looking bunch," Meg said.
Lottie just rolled her eyes, and Rachel drew in a deep, relieved breath. Apparently the other two had thought nothing of her rapt interest in the exertions of the men in the room. Of course, they assumed she was joking along with them, admiring guys the way women always admired guys. Even other women's guys, as long as the hands-off-bitch-he's-mine thing was a given.
It was. Always. Rachel had never poached on another woman's territory.
So why, God, could she not remove her attention from Maria Martinelli's fiancé?
She returned her attention to Lucas, wondering what he was staring at with such keen interest. Following the direction of his stare, she spied the mountain of fabric samples on the sewing table. Then, almost certainly unaware of her intense scrutiny, Luke did something that revealed so very much about the man carefully contained within his professional facade.
As if unable to help himself, he reached out and ran the tips of his fingers across the top sample, a shimmery, peach-toned pile of silk, almost the color of blushing skin. His touch was slow, deliberate. She could almost see the physical pleasure he took from feeling the cool softness against his skin. His eyes closed briefly and his lips fell open as he pulled in a slow, deep breath and rubbed his fingertips together with the silk between them.
Still not knowing he was being watched, he placed his entire hand on the material, spreading his fingers, then tightening them, allowing the material to pool between them. A lethargic smile crossed his lips as he spread his fingers apart again and opened his eyes.
No one else had noticed. No one else watched. Only Rachel. And she couldn't say a word. Not even when he looked up and caught her staring with shocked intensity.
He didn't look away, didn't laugh off the moment with an embarrassed joke. He made no verbal or silent apologies for the fact he'd just revealed about himself.
That he was a sensual man. A man who took pleasure in physical things. Seductive things.
It had only been one stroke, one touch, on an inanimate object several feet away, yet Rachel almost felt as if she'd been touched. Caressed. Enjoyed in a basic, primal way that had temporarily stopped time for this powerfully built, fascinating man.
She could only imagine how he would touch a woman. How he'd slowly devour her, savor the feel of skin on skin, taking his time to enjoy every new sensation. How he'd delight in all the textures and contours of her body. The tastes. The smells. The soft wetness.
She swallowed hard as a warm, lethargic pleasure oozed through her. The heat in his dark brown eyes told her so much more than words ever could have. His thoughts matched her own, she knew it beyond doubt. And still he didn't look away.
"Too bad they're not working in the front room," Meg said, sounding as if she was far away, rather than right beside her. "We would have had women paying to line up for a peek in the front window."
Oh, yes, Rachel would have paid to watch this. Him. There wasn't much she wouldn't have paid to attain this incredibly intimate knowledge of the man beneath the elegantly tailored suit. There was much more to Luke than the expensive clothes and the brilliant reputation. He had depths she'd never