Luke by Jennifer Blake

but the light from the table candle revealed a trace of trepidation in her eyes.
    â€œAnd is that really how you see me?”
    She tipped her head as if trying to bring him into focus. “Not exactly. To me you’re a pirate taking what you want and sailing away with no concern for the poor females left in your wake.”
    â€œI thought pirates sailed off with their helpless captives instead of away from them,” he objected before glancing around the table with what he hoped was a piratical grin.
    â€œNot you. You’re a river pirate, a regular Mike Fink who takes no prisoners.”
    Luke was not thrilled with the comparison, even if the River Pirate Revel was in recognition of Fink’s exploits. Mike Fink had been the terror of the lower Mississippi River during the early antebellum period. From his hideout in a river cave, he’d wreaked havoc on river shipping and all boat travelers unfortunate enough to fall into his clutches.
    â€œThat depends on the prisoner,” he said, arching a brow. And where she wants to be taken.”
    â€œWhoa!” the redhead said, pretending to fan herself with her hand.
    â€œHe has a point, chère, ” Julianne said to April without bothering to hide her smile.
    â€œWhat he has is a fine opinion of himself,” April declared with a dark look in their direction. “And you two aren’t helping any.”
    Luke agreed, not that he needed help. “A personhas to take credit where it’s due,” he said. “I may not be much in the way of a hero, April, sweetheart, but I’m sure the reason you’re a romance author.”
    â€œYou’re what?” The look she gave him was blank with surprise.
    â€œAdmit it,” he said. “If I’d been different, where would you be now? A married woman with nothing to show for the past decade and more except a rundown barn of a house and a half dozen kids clinging to your skirts.”
    The redhead pushed her pizza away as she eyed them both with frank curiosity. “Hey, I thought you two had just got together recently. You really go back that far?”
    â€œFarther,” Luke said, and smiled into April’s eyes.
    She drew a swift, uneven breath. “What a poignant picture, especially with a loving husband at my side. Failing one beautiful dream, however, I turned to another. It was a matter of survival, not of choice.”
    The triumph Luke had felt vanished as if it had never been. He thought he just might need all the help he could get, after all.

5
    T he group dinner finally wound to an end. The goodbyes were said, the promises to get together again were made, and April’s friends and colleagues went their separate ways. She walked beside Luke toward the parking lot where he’d left his Jeep. Only a few more minutes, she told herself, and she would be back in the blessed privacy of her hotel suite.
    Though she was more than ready to call it a night, it was the shank of the evening in the Quarter. Cars eased through the narrow, one-way streets in company with tour buses, cabs, mule-drawn carriages and the occasional black and white of the city police. People looking for a good time in the Big Easy filled the sidewalks and moved in and out of the open doors of the restaurants and bars. The strident sounds of jazz and zydeco spilled out into the night along with wasteful currents of air-conditioned coolness. The tart scent of mustard from the hot dog-shaped pushcart on the corner hung in the warm, moist air. Blending with it was the ubiquitous smell of alcohol. It was a typical Saturday night in New Orleans.
    The day hadn’t been quite the disaster April expected. Luke had behaved himself for the most part,neither intruding on what she had to do nor trying to prevent her from doing it. His presence had actually been helpful once or twice. Still, her relief that she would soon be free of his company was so strong she felt almost euphoric. That or