Under His Skin

by Nicola Marsh

  She’d said all the right things about continuing their sex-capades yet keeping it casual and he should be rapt. Instead, he couldn’t shake the feeling he’d taken on too much with this one.

  ‘Heard from your dad lately?’

  And, just like that, Rick transformed a bad situation into a shitty one. He knew why his friend had changed the subject and what he was alluding to: that Logan had never had a serious relationship with a woman because of his past, tangled up in a big ball of resentment towards his dad.

  So he never wanted to foster ties that always ended in disappointment. To have a woman wait around for him while he travelled, her discontent and frustration growing until their relationship inevitably imploded. Or, worse, bring a kid into the situation, the kind of kid he’d once been, hero-worshipping his dad only to be kicked in the fucking heart by the constant let-downs.

  No, he didn’t want any of that. Besides, he was happy. He had a kick-ass company, enough work to keep him busy for decades and a bank account that ensured he didn’t have to work if he didn’t want to. Long-term relationships bred nothing but unhappiness and heartbreak. Not for him.

  ‘No, haven’t see him,’ Logan said, his voice clipped and brooking no argument. ‘I really need to get back to supervising the guys...’

  ‘They’ve done a thousand of these jobs without you standing over them, I’m pretty sure they’ll cope for another few minutes.’ Rick folded his arms, disapproval radiating off him. ‘Doesn’t he live in Melbourne? Why don’t you—?’

  ‘Rick, you’re my best mate, but if you keep spouting this drivel I’m going to have to deck you.’

  Not that he would; Logan had never hit anyone in his life. But, if talking about Hope wasn’t high on his list of discussion topics, talking about his dear old dad fell into a definite no-go zone.

  ‘You need to see him some time,’ Rick said with a shrug. ‘Might put the rest of your life and this warped view you have about relationships into perspective—’

  ‘That’s it, I’m done.’ His hands curled into fists as he pushed open the back door to Hope’s property so he could escape into a world of hammering, sawdust and drilling. Familiarity with his work would ease the confusion, courtesy of his friend’s too accurate assessment of why he didn’t do relationships. ‘Go rest up and I’ll see you soon.’

  Logan didn’t wait for his mate’s response. He’d had enough.

  If thinking about his earlier reaction to Hope had him reeling, mulling over Rick’s unwarranted advice regarding his dad had the potential to send him into a tailspin.

  Time to focus on work like he always did. And a few stolen hours here and there with Hope when he could. Keep things simple. Uncomplicated.

  Just the way he liked it.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  WHEN HOPE WANTED clarity she visited her favourite place, the Victorian State Library. Entering through the giant marble arches on Swanston Street flooded her with peace.

  It had been the first Melbourne landmark she’d explored when she’d arrived five years before, her love of books undeniable. When she walked through these arches, her muscles slackened and her limbs loosened as any residual tension drained away. She loved strolling through the Red Rotunda and seeing the nineteenth-century paintings and sculptures, followed by a tour of the Blue Rotunda with its twentieth-century portraits of artists, authors and other notables who were part of Victorian history.

  If she yearned for a history fix, she’d spend a few hours in the Redmond Barry Reading Room, poring over non-fiction journals featuring musical legends she had listened to on occasion. The library soothed her soul and calmed her mind.

  Except today.

  Today, Logan had accompanied her and she had no freaking idea why.

  It had been bad enough yesterday, coming to terms with the fact she’d agreed to a short-term fling while he was in town. This, hot on the heels of scorching sex in the confines of her mini-studio, followed by her revealing far too much of herself by playing that song she’d written about him. Not that he knew it. The lyrics could’ve applied to anyone yearning for a real connection. But then she’d come clean about feeling out of her depth around him and he’d been way too understanding and sweet.

  Rugged, tough guys like him shouldn’t have a soft core. It made him all the more appealing. She could cope with viewing him as a sex object, a gorgeous guy to shift her out of her comfort zone, to shake up her rather mundane existence. But since the moment he’d shown a genuine sincerity yesterday she’d been mulling ‘what if?’

  What if she’d made a big mistake in letting this guy in a little?

  She’d done a fine job of protecting her heart since Willem. But in the short time she’d known Logan she’d already spent too much time thinking about him and that didn’t bode well for when he left in a month. Guys she’d dated before had never had this impact on her. She’d deliberately kept them at bay and ended things quickly if they wanted more.

  Thinking about Logan so much made her re-evaluate the wisdom of her choice. Maybe the smart decision would be to end this fling now.

  ‘Why did you come here with me today?’

  He didn’t flinch at her blurted question, which bordered on rude. ‘Already told you. This library has the most famous dome in Melbourne and I want to get a few ideas to see if we can soundproof yours while restoring it to its former glory.’

  Why did he have to sound so damn logical? His reasoning sounded plausible but deep down she would’ve preferred him to say he wanted to spend time with her.

  It was crazy having those kinds of delusions, because they weren’t dating and she had no expectations. But when he’d heard she was coming here and he’d asked to accompany her, she hadn’t been able to help but hope he liked her for more than her body.

  ‘The dome is rather spectacular,’ she said, relieved she managed to sound offhand despite her whirling thoughts. ‘Have you been here before?’

  His lips compressed and a shadow scudded across his hooded gaze. ‘Once. A lifetime ago.’

  ‘School excursion?’

  ‘Something like that,’ he said, half-turning away so she couldn’t read his expression. But she heard the tightness in his voice, as though she’d hit a sore spot.

  She should drop it. That would be the smart thing to do. But she’d stopped being smart around the time she’d demanded he screw her up against an alley wall at the back of a pub.

  ‘You mentioned growing up in a small outback town far from Melbourne. Did you go to school there too?’

  He took so long to respond she wondered if she’d really stuffed up. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, ‘Rally-Doo is too small so I went to school in nearby Swan Hill. A small, unknown public school. You wouldn’t have heard of it. Hills High.’

  She hadn’t. ‘I’m ashamed to say that, though I’ve lived in Melbourne for five years, my Australian geography is lacking.’

  ‘You haven’t done the touristy thing and travelled around?’

  She grimaced and shook her head. ‘I’ve been to Sydney and the Gold Coast, both times for an indie music concert; that’s it.’

  He’d lost the haunted look and the corners of his mouth quirked into a teasing smile. ‘And you call yourself an honorary Aussie.’

  Glad he’d lightened up enough to tease her, she tapped her chest. ‘I love living here but I’m still an English girl at heart.’

  ‘Let me guess. You prefer toasted muffins over donuts, you drink tea over coffee, use a fine porcelain cup and do it like this.’ He held up his pinkie and wiggled it.

  She laughed. ‘I’m far from clichéd.’

  ‘Don’t I know it,’ he murmured, so softly she barely caught it, the sudden heat in his gaze making her aware of her quickening heartbeat. ‘Seriously, though, you need to sightsee. Travel. See more of this wonderful country.’

  The fluttering i
n her chest elicited by the intent behind him alluding to her being anything but clichéd, combined with his sizzling look, had her inadvertently leaning into him, craving his touch.

  But they were in a public place and there was a huge difference between a back alley and one of Melbourne’s most prestigious landmarks.

  ‘I will travel, once I get my recording studio up and running.’

  A blatant lie, because she knew once she started recording she intended to be busy into the next decade, fostering the talent of unknown musicians while producing her own music and sharing it with the world. It was what she’d always wanted to do. It had been her secret dream and she’d only ever shared it with one other person—who’d proceeded to take her prized songs and record them as his own.

  The kicker was that she would’ve gladly shared her songs with Harry if he’d asked. Instead, the one person she’d thought she could trust in the world had callously shattered her illusions, like everyone else before him.

  Logan eyed her with scepticism, as if he knew her profession of plans to travel in the future was a load of bollocks, before snapping his fingers in an apparent epiphany. ‘We should go camping.’

  ‘I’d rather stick a fork in my eye.’

  Her loathing of sleeping under the stars in a tent had nothing to do with her privileged upbringing, during which she had only holidayed in the best five-star resorts, and everything to do with her fear of Australian snakes and spiders. She’d watched enough documentaries to know that she preferred solid walls between her and the creepy crawlies, not thin canvas.

  She shuddered at the thought and he chuckled. ‘Have you ever done it?’

  ‘No and I’m not about to start now.’

  An eyebrow rose in blatant challenge. ‘Bet I can change your mind.’

  ‘Bet you can’t.’

  He leaned in, close enough she could smell his addictively clean crispness mingled with something decidedly earthy—a heady, tantalising scent that had imprinted on her receptors and made her hormones go a little crazy.

  ‘One of the benefits of camping is the closeness of snuggling in a sleeping bag.’

  Her nipples tightened at the thought of being up close and personal with him that way but she still wasn’t convinced. Tiger snakes, funnel-web spiders and any number of nasty critters with eight legs could slither and crawl into a sleeping bag.

  ‘A bed can be just as snuggly.’

  ‘Granted, it can.’ The pale blue flecks in his eyes glowed as a wicked grin curved his lips. ‘But you should know, guys love nothing better than a challenge, and I’m going to make sure you live a little over the next few weeks.’

  ‘Hey, I’m not some hermit. I get out.’

  To the supermarket, the occasional yoga class and the arts centre for an infrequent recital. Though all that was on a need-to-know basis. She already sounded like an unadventurous recluse.

  ‘To places like this?’ He threw his arm wide, his teasing smile making him even more irresistible.

  ‘Yeah. And I wander through the laneways, dine at the trendiest restaurants and attend dingy clubs to listen to music.’ She sounded too defensive, well aware he’d hit a sore spot. Being a loner had its down sides: namely daydreaming about what it would be like to open herself up to a real relationship rather than shunning any connection beyond superficial. ‘What of it?’

  ‘Whoa.’ He held up his hands, his smug grin infuriatingly gorgeous. ‘I just meant that you need to step out of your comfort zone. And if camping is too much too soon maybe you can start with a footy game?’

  He smacked his lips together in an exaggerated parody of hunger. ‘Nothing like a hot meat pie drenched in tomato sauce while cheering on the Echidnas.’

  Another thing Hope hadn’t paid much attention to since she’d moved here: Aussie Rules football. She knew a few of the teams, including the Eastern Echidnas, but that was about it. She’d never been a soccer fan back in the UK so watching Aussie Rules wasn’t high on her agenda.

  And what did he mean by suggesting she needed to live a little...? Damn, she almost slapped herself upside the head.

  He wanted to spend time with her.

  Outside of the bedroom.

  She should protest, insist that she wanted nothing beyond his dick. Or was she reading too much into this? Was he just a guy who liked to tease her, to have some fun when they weren’t screwing?

  Or did he like her enough to want to get to know her beyond the sex?

  The latter terrified her. She didn’t want to let him get close. But there was something utterly appealing about this man that had her wanting to throw caution aside and have fun.

  Whatever his rationale, in that moment she came to a decision.

  She would make the most of their time together.

  She wouldn’t second-guess her impulsiveness, mull over his motivations or sabotage this as she had every fleeting connection that had come before him. She’d enjoy Logan, for more than his body, and wave goodbye at the end.

  Simple.

  ‘Okay. Take me to the footy.’

  His eyes glittered with approval. ‘Great. They’re playing the Sylphs in Melbourne this weekend. It’s a date.’

  ‘You know, if you’re taking me out of my comfort zone, maybe I should return the favour.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’m taking you on a laneways tour of the city.’

  He rolled his eyes. ‘Why would I want to stroll through a bunch of graffiti-covered alleys?’

  ‘You’re not averse to all alleys,’ she said, with a wink, and he laughed.

  ‘Okay, drag me through the city. But I get to pick the place we eat.’

  ‘Deal.’ She stuck out her hand, unprepared for him to tug her towards him when he took it.

  ‘You’re incredible,’ he said, slanting a soft kiss across her lips that made her melt against him. ‘I love sparring with you.’

  ‘I can feel how much.’ She pressed against him, glad they were sheltered in an alcove off the library’s main entrance. ‘We better go check out that dome.’

  ‘The dome’s not really that important,’ he said, holding her upper arms and easing her away. ‘I only tagged along to spend some time with you.’

  Stunned by his admission, and quelling the instinctive urge to flee because of it, she stared at him.

  ‘Because we’ve basically fucked twice and that’s it,’ he continued, sounding endearingly bashful. ‘I wanted to show you I really do want to hang out while I’m around.’

  She searched for the right response to convey how much she appreciated his effort without alerting him to how the thought of getting closer by ‘hanging out’ struck terror into her heart.

  When she came up lacking, she settled for ‘Thanks, I like spending time with you too.’

  ‘So shall we check out the dome or leave?’

  Her body clamoured to leave but she had this gorgeous guy alongside her in one of her favourite places; she’d be a fool to pass up this opportunity to enjoy his company.

  ‘Dome, but we’ll make it quick.’

  He nodded his approval and took her hand. It felt surreal as they took the elevator to the sixth floor, walked out onto the highest level of the La Trobe Reading Room and surveyed the stunning room below, eight long tables fanning out like the tentacles of an octopus.

  She loved the reverent hush, the whisper-quiet of students lining those tables, heads bent over books, backlit by green lawyer lamps.

  ‘Impressive,’ he said, barely glancing at the tables below before the dome above drew his attention. He gaped a little and she knew the feeling; the massive soaring architectural feat never failed to make her feel insignificant in the grand scheme of things.

  ‘This is one of my favourite places,’ she said, pointing to the ancient books in shelves that lined the alcoves of the room. ‘Ther
e’s over thirty-two-thousand books in here alone and I wish I could curl up and read every one of them.’

  ‘I can barely bring myself to read the newspaper,’ he said, an odd wistfulness lacing his tone. ‘My mum was the bookworm.’

  She noted his use of the past tense and dithered over whether to ask him about her or not. She knew nothing about him beyond his job and the small town he’d come from. If they were going to spend time together, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to know more.

  ‘She died when I was eighteen,’ he added, before she could question him further.

  ‘And your dad?’

  ‘He’s around but we don’t get on.’

  From his clipped tone and deep frown, she could tell there was a world of untold angst there, but his clenched jaw and the visible cording of the muscles in his neck alerted her that now probably wasn’t the best time to delve.

  Time to change the subject. ‘Now that you’ve seen the dome, can we do a quick tour through the red and blue rotundas before we leave? They house some fabulous paintings from the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.’

  He visibly relaxed, his shoulders lowering and his expression easing into curiosity. ‘You really are an artsy-fartsy cliché,’ he said, sounding amused rather than judgemental. ‘Okay, let’s go look at these paintings.’

  However, his mobile buzzed at that moment. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, fishing it out of his pocket and moving slightly away to answer. He spoke in low tones so she couldn’t really hear the conversation but one look at his lips compressed into a slash and his narrowed eyes told her she’d lost her library partner. He grimaced when he hung up and thrust the phone back into his pocket, cursing under his breath.

  ‘Sorry, I have to go. There’s some glitch at the council with a permit that needs sorting. Rain check?’

  She hid her disappointment and nodded, tilting her face up for his incoming kiss. It was all too brief, a bare glance of his mouth across hers, before he eyed the door.

  ‘I’ll call you,’ he said, touching her lightly on the arm.

  ‘Okay.’

  Then he was gone, leaving her feeling giddy, hopeful and looking forward to the next few weeks with him way too much, while pondering what lay beneath the surface of this enigmatic man.