by Nicola Marsh
He winced. ‘Your dad?’
‘Yeah. Guess the prime minister’s daughter needed to have an upstanding, reputable career in economics rather than freelance writing, or worse.’
She lowered her voice and crooked her finger at him. ‘Maybe even penning a fiction novel? The scandal!’
‘You should do it, you know. Write a novel.’
He snapped his fingers. ‘Not just any novel. A juicy romance novel. A saga spanning generations with loads of scandal and a pompous prime minister who gets his comeuppance in the end.’
She smiled and he warmed to his topic. ‘Or better yet, if we’re talking scandalising your family, why not go the whole hog and pen steamy erotica?’
Her eyebrows shot up as he tapped his lip and pretended to think before his hand shot out and captured hers.
‘I can help.’
His thumb caressed her pulse point, his own pulse rampaging when her tongue darted out to moisten her lip.
‘How about I assist with the extensive research you’d have to do?’
He brought her hand to his mouth and nibbled on the pad of her thumb, savouring her reaction: the slight tremor of her arm, the sway towards him, the wistful sigh.
‘For authenticity’s sake.’
His lips trailed to the inside of her wrist and his tongue swirled, making her gasp.
‘Because we know every good author does thorough research, right?’
Her eyes widened to fathomless blue pools as he slowly unfurled her fingers one by one, exposing her palm, before planting a lingering kiss there.
‘What do you say?’
Dragging in a deep breath, she eased her hand from his, but not before he’d seen a glimmer of reluctance.
‘Thanks for the offer but I think I’ll try and master freelance writing before moving on to unfamiliar territory.’
It was his turn to be shocked. She’d been married and by her passionate responses to the wild sex last night he doubted that territory was all that unfamiliar.
Belatedly realising her faux pas, she opened her mouth, snapped it shut, before the flash of determination in her eyes alerted him to another incoming revelation.
‘Bet you think I’m tragic, huh? Being married for two years and still finding…you know…sex…unfamiliar.’
‘Not tragic, but I’m confused.’
She glanced away, embarrassed, and he wished he’d left well enough alone. She’d been responding to his flirting, hadn’t pulled away, now this.
‘Look, you don’t owe me any explanations—’
Her gaze clashed with his, suddenly fierce. ‘Last night? My first one-night stand. Protected upbringing, dating a family friend for years before doing the right thing and marrying him, discovering that good friends doesn’t equal fireworks in the bedroom…well, you get the picture.’
She grimaced and pity clawed at him. Pity she wouldn’t appreciate if that steely gleam in her eyes was any indication.
‘And yes, if you do the math, I’ve now been with two guys in my lifetime. Sad case, huh?’
Hating her slumped shoulders, her down-turned mouth, he gripped her shoulders and leaned close enough so they were inches apart.
‘Listen up, sweetheart, cos I’m only going to say this once. It’s the quality not the quantity that matters and speaking from personal experience last night you blew my mind.’
A corner of her mouth kicked up and his unimpressionable heart went twang again. ‘Really?’
‘Hell yeah.’
Pulling her close, he murmured in her ear, ‘The kind of explosive sex we had last night? Not so common.’
He nibbled her ear lobe.
‘You—’ He sucked the lobe into his mouth.
‘Were—’ He tongued it.
‘Freaking—’ His mouth drifted south, to the tender skin under her ear, where he nipped.
‘Amazing.’
He didn’t have to move as her lips sought his, as frantic, as needy, as exquisite as last night’s first kiss, the tension simmering between them reigniting in a blaze of unquenchable heat.
His mind blanked for long, endless seconds until he realised where they were. In a famous chef’s restaurant that might just have paparazzi lurking around and he’d be damned if he scared Ava off before they got a chance to really create some major fireworks.
His lips eased, lingered a few exquisite moments before he pulled back and tipped up her chin with a fingertip.
‘I have a question for you.’
She blinked; it did little to erase the stunned shock in the aftermath of their cataclysmic kiss.
‘What?’
‘Care to continue this somewhere more private?’ He screwed up his eyes, pretending to think. ‘Like some swish suite at the Palazzo Versace over the next few days?’
He expected her to baulk.
He expected her to backtrack.
He expected her to distance herself and throw out a host of plausible excuses and allow logic to override passion.
What he didn’t expect was the dazzling smile that made him want to sweep her into his arms and high-tail it out of here before he kissed her again.
‘If you’re asking me to indulge in a wild, no-holds-barred, impulsive fling over the next few days?’
She beckoned him closer and this time her breath tickled his ear, her lips brushing it and sending a shudder of desire through him.
‘My answer’s hell yes.’
CHAPTER FIVE
AVA had flown on private jets many times. They didn’t impress her any more than the jet’s occupants who usually bored her to death with shop talk: political analysis, evaluation of the world’s economy, muck-raking opponents in the next election.
Yet the moment she stepped onto this jet and saw Roman reclining against a cream leather lounge, laughing at something the steward had said, she knew this flight would be very different from others.
As she studied his laid-back posture, one arm casually draped across the back of the lounge, his ivory business shirt unbuttoned, the amethyst tie he’d been wearing earlier peeping out of his jacket where he’d slung it over the back of a nearby chair, one ankle resting on the opposite knee, she saw a man comfortable in his surroundings, a man used to the finer things in life, a man not averse to flying in private jets.
Which begged the question: who was this guy?
She’d been attracted to him right from the start because of his adventurous streak, the extreme sports guy as alien to her world as the thought of jumping off a building with a parachute strapped to her back.
Sure, Roman was hot and had a body finely honed through many hours of insane leaping off things, but it had been that underlying recklessness that had set her blood boiling, the hint of daredevil that had encouraged her to shuck off every ingrained reservation she’d grown up with and gone for it.
Last night had been memorable but she’d been reluctantly ready to push it from her mind; until he strode into the restaurant this morning and arranged her life.
She couldn’t believe he’d done that, practically foisting her onto Rex Mayfair, taking advantage of their friendship, giving the guy no option but to hire her.
At the time she’d inwardly seethed, hating his take-charge attitude. She’d spent enough of her life falling in with arrangements to loathe the slightest hint of bossiness now but considering the result…
She had a chance at gaining employment in a field she loved. Much quicker than she could’ve anticipated and much easier than padding a CV with her out-of-date writing skills, going through countless interviews only to be told she didn’t have enough experience.
Roman’s interference rankled but she couldn’t hold it against him, especially considering the future of her new career rested on him.
Of all the people she had to interview, it had to be him.
A guy she knew in intimate detail, from the ragged scar low on his right hip from a skiing accident to the tiny chunk of missing left bicep gouged by a jagged rock while abseiling.
And the rest…
She tried not to squirm at the memory of the rest, knowing she’d have to focus on the facts to nail this. Solid interview questions, neat prose and effective editing would get the job done.
It was what would happen after the working day ended that had her tied in knots.
How had she gone from quietly celebrating her newfound freedom away from the paparazzi’s prying eyes to having a one-night stand with an adventurer and getting a job out of it?
Seeing him so soon after their unforgettable, erotic encounter, wearing a designer suit as opposed to a hotel bathrobe, had thrown her this morning. Next thing she knew she’d been offered a job that included travelling with a hot guy on a jet to a swanky hotel.
But you chose to take it further, accepting his offer for a fling.
Staring at Roman, with his impressive tan and dark wavy hair slicked to perfection and decadent chocolate eyes, she couldn’t blame herself.
Any red-blooded, recently divorced, single woman who’d lived like an automaton would’ve grabbed this opportunity with both hands. Hands that had willingly and wantonly travelled over every inch of his incredibly toned, incredibly sexy body and were itching for more.
He glanced up at that moment and she swallowed to ease the tightness of her throat. Hoping her face didn’t betray the turn her thoughts had taken, she raised a hand in a casual wave.
He smiled and her throat closed over completely.
How could a guy look so good?
It wasn’t as if she hadn’t met handsome guys before. Guys in her father’s social circle had money, had used it to pamper and preen. Not in a sissy manner but in the new wave of metrosexual manicures and facials for men keen to look their best. Leon had been striking in his own way but compared to Roman? The two were as different as the Palazzo and camping.
Hoping she wasn’t drooling, she managed to put one foot in front of the other and make it all the way down the aisle, enjoying his chivalry when he stood.
‘You made it.’
‘Was there ever any doubt?’
He held up a hand, wavered it side to side a little. ‘In my business it pays not to be overconfident.’
She laughed at that. ‘If there’s one thing you don’t have it’s a lack of confidence.’
‘Maybe it only extends to certain areas of my life?’ He held out his hand and she took it as he guided her down into the softest leather. ‘Like wooing beautiful women?’
‘Something I’m sure you’ve had loads of practice with.’
Pretending to ponder, he winked. ‘Hey, extreme sports is my life. I never know when my last moment on this earth is so I make the most of the ones I have.’
She envied him that, his blasé, live-for-the-moment attitude to life. Totally foreign to a girl who’d spent her life evaluating choices, from what she wore in the morning to what she ate for fear of putting on weight in front of the ever-present intruding cameras.
Had she ever been spontaneous? Had she ever truly lived in the moment until last night?
Doubtful, and as Roman sank into the plush lounge next to her she was determined to live by his motto over the next few days and enjoy every moment they had together. No matter how fleeting, how transient, she’d go for it.
‘Want to know something?’
He nodded, slung his arm across the back of the lounge again, his fingertips grazing her bare shoulders and sending a river of promise flooding through her.
‘I like your outlook. It’s refreshing and inherently honest.’
She caught a fleeting glimpse of pain before he blinked and it was gone.
‘It’s also dangerous and reckless and can get me killed.’
His carefree expression closed off. Why the sudden turnaround? As if he was trying to talk down his passion?
She wanted to delve, wanted to probe for answers behind his sudden reticence. But that wouldn’t be conducive to living in the moment and impulsiveness and passion, three things she really wanted to concentrate on, so she aimed for levity.
‘Getting behind the wheel of a car is more likely to get you killed than anything else but you do that, right?’
He was back to his suave best, his fingers caressed her shoulder. ‘Guess now isn’t the best time to tell you I ride a motorcycle too?’
She smiled. ‘I’d expect nothing less—fits the image totally.’
‘Bet you see me as some risk-taking adventurer hooked on firsts?’
‘Nothing wrong with firsts,’ she said, remembering last night and blushing again.
Tuned in to her thoughts and giving her time to reassemble her scattered wits, he said, ‘I’m guessing this isn’t your first time on a private jet?’
She nodded, knowing he was only making polite conversation but wishing she didn’t have to discuss her past. Apart from making a determined new start, how boring would her old life seem to an adventurer like him?
‘You guessed right.’
‘Did you travel much as a kid?’
‘Yeah, a fair bit.’
He grinned at her brief responses. ‘From your less than effusive answers you don’t want to talk about your past?’
‘Something like that.’
How could she explain without sounding like a spoiled brat disenchanted with her previous life, when her reasons for discontent were so much deeper than that?
He didn’t know her beyond what they’d shared physically and as memorable as that was—and the promise of magic over the next few days—this wasn’t the time for sharing deep, dark secrets.
‘You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to but sometimes exorcising old demons is the best way to move forward.’
She stared at him in amazement. For all his flirty comments and sexy smiles, Roman had a depth to him that was seriously appealing.
‘I don’t want to bore you.’
Taking hold of her hand, he squeezed it encouragingly. ‘You could never do that.’
Enjoying the feel of his strong, warm hand wrapped around hers, she said, ‘Really? Bet you’re just dying to hear about my life during Dad’s eight-year term in office. How the last five years of my teens was spent under scrutiny from PR people, watching what I did, vetting what I said in interviews, choosing my wardrobe every morning.’
He grimaced and threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Sounds like the pits.’
‘It was.’
But that wasn’t the worst of it and now she’d started down this rocky road, she had to tell him more.
Not all of it though, for the last thing she needed right now was to rehash the awfulness of having her divorce splashed across the media and everything from her morals to her family values publicly ridiculed.
‘You know what annoys me the most? The fact that I went along with it all.’
‘You had no choice.’
‘Not at the beginning but, after a while, being the obedient, subservient perfect daughter became so ingrained I just coasted along, doing what was expected because it was easy.’
‘Easy is good.’
She scanned his face to see if he was making a joke but the sombreness pinching his usually smiling mouth told her he understood.
‘My finance career was a mistake. My marriage was a mistake.’
Releasing her hand, he brushed a strand of hair back off her face and tucked it behind her ear with a tenderness that brought a lump to her throat.
‘Pretty hard to learn if we don’t make mistakes.’
‘True, but I feel like I’ve wasted the first twenty-seven years of my life being someone I’m not.’
She’d just voiced her biggest fear: that in sacrificing her needs, her wants, for the greater good of her family, she’d lost herself and maybe wouldn’t be able to find herself now.
‘Finding a new job in a field I love is a start but I sometimes wonder if the real me will ever emerge.’
The moment the words spilled from her mouth she knew she’d said too much, divulging too much too
soon. A guy in Australia for a short time, a guy to have a fling with, wasn’t interested in her deep-seated fears.
He remained silent, his expression thoughtful, reinforcing she’d blurted out way too much to be cool.
Before she could come up with some flyaway comment to lighten the mood he scooted closer and slid an arm around her waist, holding her close while tipping up her chin with the other hand, leaving her no option but to look at him.
‘The real you is the woman I was with last night. A vibrant, generous, spontaneous woman willing to explore her sensual side, a woman open to giving and receiving pleasure, a woman taking a risk on the unknown, grabbing opportunities with both hands.’
Her eyelids flickered shut as he brushed a soft kiss across her lips, his words filling her with pride.
‘You’re spectacular, Ava, and I’m honoured to be part of your self-discovery quest.’
In that moment it hit her, what he must think, and her eyes flew open as she jerked back.
‘I’m not using you, if that’s what you think.’
‘It’s okay if you are,’ he murmured, the hint of truth behind his statement making her recoil.
She didn’t use people. She was gracious and polite and thoughtful. She put the needs of others before her own.
Correction, she used to. Maybe Roman was right? Maybe it was okay to want something for herself? Not that she was using him exactly. She preferred to think of him as a delicious side benefit to exploring her new self.
Wrinkling her nose, she said, ‘I’m not a user. But I’m not averse to using this…this thing between us to help my new self emerge.’
‘I’m happy with that.’
And he kissed her to prove it, a long, hot, deep kiss with enough sizzle to make her forget every word they’d just exchanged, along with her name.
Ava who? was her last thought as he eased her back against the butter-soft leather and proceeded to give her another lesson in using the thing between them to further her cause.
CHAPTER SIX
AVA had always found air travel monotonous and dull.
Not any more.
The memory of what she’d done with Roman on the jet heated her cheeks more than the high humidity as she stepped onto the tarmac at Coolangatta Airport.
