Play Thing

by Nicola Marsh

  Dee adored her, always had, and the feeling was entirely mutual. She hadn’t wanted for anything and her aunt had become the mother she’d never had. But no matter how nurturing Dee had been, Charlotte had never been able to get past the fact that her own parents preferred caring for strangers rather than their own child.

  ‘Is everything okay?’ Her dad leaned closer to the screen again, a habit she found endearing at times. ‘You look upset.’

  ‘I’m fine, Dad.’

  But she saw the look her folks exchanged, as if they didn’t buy her excuse for a second. Great timing for them to suddenly discover the parental gene.

  ‘How’s work?’ her mum prompted, her usual inquiry whenever they spoke. They didn’t have much else in common and her mum had discovered early on not to ask about her social life—or lack of one.

  ‘Fine.’

  ‘That’s your second fine in thirty seconds.’ Her dad waggled his finger at her. ‘A sure sign you’re not.’

  Charlotte had no intention of divulging the mess she’d made of her love life so she changed the subject. ‘Tell me more about this project in Papua New Guinea.’

  It worked like magic, her parents taking it in turns to tell her about the school they envisaged, growing increasingly animated as they spoke.

  Charlotte barely heard half of what they said, too busy watching their body language. They constantly touched, leaned into each other and finished each other’s sentences. Her dad kissed her mum twice, once on the top of her head as she snuggled into him, once on her cheek when she gazed up at him in adoration.

  That was when it hit her.

  Maybe them travelling the world together hadn’t been about abandoning her at all.

  Maybe they didn’t need anyone else in their lives, they were that connected.

  How many couples still appeared so in love after twenty-nine years of marriage? She couldn’t think of any. Her co-workers constantly bitched about their spouses and Dee had divorced at twenty-four after eighteen months of marriage.

  Yet here were her folks, appearing truly happy in their life choices. She might never forgive them for abandoning her, for choosing their lifestyle over her, but it made her realise something.

  Their enthusiasm for life shone through in their words and actions. They practically glowed with it.

  She’d made it her goal to be the opposite of them, to do the opposite. Choose security and stability and a house over travel and adventure. Build a nest egg rather than squander what little money she had. Find a staid, dependable man and have a relationship based on trust and friendship rather than any grand passion.

  She’d had it all planned out.

  So why did she feel like she’d short-changed herself somehow?

  Maybe she should be trying to emulate her parents’ marriage and lifestyle, not shy from it?

  Alex had offered her the opportunity and she’d rejected it. For a guy who’d been totally upfront about not doing long-term commitment, it must have taken a big turnaround for him to ask her to go with him.

  She’d been so damn angry at the time, so sure he was dangling a relationship in front of her to make up for the fact he’d taken away her promotion and thus affected her future mortgage and dream house.

  But what if she was wrong?

  What if Alex had asked her to accompany him on his travels because he felt their connection went far deeper than sex?

  She felt it. Why couldn’t he?

  ‘I think your plans sound wonderful, Mum and Dad, but I have to go. Sorry. We’ll chat soon.’

  And she meant it, disconnecting before they could ramble on further.

  She had things to do. Important things.

  Starting with showing Alex that she was the kind of woman to take risks.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ALEX HAD DONE many impulsive things in his lifetime.

  Buying a house wasn’t one of them.

  But he had to do this, because if he didn’t he’d lose Charlie completely and that wasn’t possible.

  After he’d stormed out of her flat, he’d driven aimlessly, determined to clear his head. He’d taken a wrong turn down one of Sydney’s infamous one-way streets and ended up having to go over the Harbour Bridge to Manly. He parked, slipped off his shoes and socks, rolled up his trousers and walked along the beach. Something guys in suits rarely did by the number of odd glances garnered from passers-by.

  He had no idea if it was the fresh sea air, the feel of sand between his toes or the simple art of walking for pleasure rather than as a means to get somewhere, but by the time he got back to his car his anger had given way to determination.

  He’d shied away from commitment his entire life. He’d made many excuses, mostly to himself, not to get emotionally involved with a woman. But he wanted to have more than a fling with Charlotte and if she hadn’t accepted his first offer, this time he’d make her an offer too good to refuse.

  She valued stability, he didn’t.

  What if he could meet her halfway?

  It took him two hours to get the deal done. Sign the paperwork. Make it legit, so he could present her with tangible proof of how far he was willing to go for her.

  He had no idea if he’d ever tread down the marriage road—he couldn’t shed all his neuroses at once—but admitting he loved her would be a good start. It would be enough for now.

  With the relevant documents tucked firmly in his breast pocket, he hightailed it back to her flat.

  To find a decrepit set of three suitcases outside her door.

  Fuck. The sight of those forlorn cases almost undid him. She was leaving? Maybe she really didn’t love him after all?

  A steely resolve he’d used many times in the business arena overran his momentary doubts.

  Only one way to find out how she felt, once and for all.

  He pounded on the door, surprised to find it swung open.

  ‘Charlie?’ he called out, entering the quiet flat.

  ‘In here,’ she answered, her voice drifting from behind the semi-closed bedroom door.

  After shutting the front door, he went in search of her. He pushed the bedroom door open and stopped when he saw the bomb site that her bedroom had become.

  Piles of clothes lay in disarray on the floor. Shoes covered any unused space. And three designer suitcases bearing a renowned emblem took pride of place on the bed, open and ready to be stuffed.

  ‘Going somewhere?’ He gestured at the cases, his heart sinking. Had she started packing for the move to her dream house?

  ‘Yeah.’ She flung a plain grey dress that had seen better days onto a pile behind her.

  ‘Where?’

  ‘Not sure yet,’ she said, shooting him an uncertain glance. ‘That depends on you.’

  ‘Me?’

  He couldn’t acknowledge the tiny flare of hope. Not yet. He’d already made the mistake of assuming too much and look where that had got him. Absolutely nowhere.

  ‘Well, I couldn’t very well accompany you on an adventure with those tatty old cases so I invested a sizeable chunk of my house deposit on new luggage.’ She gestured to the cases on the bed. ‘So you’d better still take me on your travels, otherwise I’ll be stuck with these very expensive pieces and nowhere to go.’

  Alex could have whooped for joy.

  She felt it too. This crazy, indescribable, heady feeling that defied belief or explanation. The kind of feeling that prompted them to do outlandish things, like squander her house deposit on designer luggage. Like him buying a house.

  ‘I’m taking you wherever I go,’ he said, aiming for nonchalance as he slid the sale documents out of his pocket and handed them to her. ‘But first, you might like to take a look at this.’

  ‘Airline tickets?’ Her soft smile shot something straight to his heart, something that lodged and he’d nev
er be able to shake off.

  This incredible woman was willing to give up her dreams to be with him. He’d make damn sure he was worthy of her faith in him.

  ‘No. Check it out.’

  She unfolded the paper, her eyes scanning it quickly and he saw the exact moment reality hit.

  ‘You didn’t,’ she whispered, her hands shaking a tad as she re-read the document, then let out an ear-piercing squeal. ‘You bought my dream house and put it in my name?’

  ‘Yeah. Seeing as you doubted my intentions, I had to do something outrageous to prove how much I love you.’

  ‘You love me...’ she murmured, shaking her head as if to clear it. ‘I can’t believe this.’

  ‘Believe it, babe,’ he said, kicking clothes out of the way to get to her. ‘This way, you’ll always have the house. And who knows, maybe one day you’ll let me live in it with you. But in the meantime, let’s go wild. Take some time off. Travel. Have fun.’ He stopped two feet in front of her, yearning to take her in his arms. ‘Knowing that you’ll have a managerial role when you get back to The Number Makers.’

  Her bottom lip wobbled and tears filled her eyes. ‘You are the most incredible man I’ve ever known and I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for me.’

  ‘Pfft. Buying a house is nothing—’

  ‘I’m not talking about the house and you know it.’ She stepped forward and rested her palms against his chest, staring up at him in wonder. ‘You’ve awakened me sexually. You’ve given me self-confidence. You’ve made me feel worthy for the first time in my life. And most of all you’ve made me take a risk and fall in love with a wanderer.’

  He grinned like an idiot. ‘So you love me too, huh?’

  ‘Oh, yeah, and I intend to prove it every which way in every city in every country we visit.’ She slid her palms up slowly, to cup his face. ‘And don’t worry, I’m not packing anything but kinky lingerie.’

  He laughed, wrapped his arms around her waist, picked her up and swung her around until they were both dizzy.

  When they came to a stop, he rested his forehead against hers. ‘My very own play thing, complete with raunchy accessories. How did I get so lucky?’

  ‘You’re about to get a whole lot luckier,’ she said, moving the suitcases off the bed before pushing him onto it and straddling him. ‘For the rest of your life, if you’ll have me.’

  ‘So I’m your dream man?’ He propped himself up on his elbows, watching with lascivious intent as she peeled off her T-shirt and flung it onto the floor.

  ‘You’re every dream and fantasy I’ve ever had rolled into one.’ She unclipped her bra at the back and it followed the same route as her T-shirt, leaving her delectable breasts bare to him. ‘And I can’t wait to share every adventure together.’

  He reached for her, wanting her to fill his hands the way she’d filled his heart. ‘Starting now...’

  * * *

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  King’s Price

  by Jackie Ashenden

  CHAPTER ONE

  Leon

  ‘IT’S VERY SIMPLE.’ I kept my back to the office as I gazed out of the floor-to-ceiling windows that gave magnificent views of Sydney’s impressive harbour. ‘I want your daughter.’

  There was silence behind me.

  Clearly, I’d shocked Thomas Hamilton—one of Sydney’s most beloved and lauded philanthropists—into silence.

  Excellent. Keeping him off-balance until he’d agreed to my demands was half the battle.

  ‘What do you mean you want my daughter?’ he asked.

  There was a hint of unsteadiness in his voice. It was very, very slight but I heard it, oh, yes, I did.

  I said nothing, letting him stew, watching the yachts in the harbour and the ferry sailing towards Manly, the sunlight touching on the white curves of the iconic Opera House.

  Christ, I loved Sydney. Bright and flashy and sexy, with a dark, dirty underbelly. My kind of town.

  It was like looking at myself in the mirror.

  Leon King. Second son of Augustus King, the erstwhile emperor of Sydney’s crime scene, now answering for those crimes in a maximum security correctional facility...aka prison.

  Yeah, the King is dead. Long live the King.

  Or should I say ‘Kings’?

  The new Kings of Sydney were me and my two brothers, Ajax and Xander, and it wasn’t our father’s old empire we wanted to inherit, not when we were the ones who’d toppled it in the first place.

  No, we were after redemption. Making good on
the King name. Building something out of the ashes of the old empire. Going legit or some such bullshit.

  At least that was what Xander and Ajax wanted.

  Me, I was fine with going legit. Things were a hell of a lot easier if you didn’t have the cops interfering with your business, but it wasn’t redemption I needed.

  I didn’t even particularly care about the King name.

  I’d been my father’s lieutenant, the muscle at his back, and years of dealing out violence to other people had burned the fucks I had to give right out of me.

  I’d been happy to be the bad guy back then and, five years after my father had gone to jail, I was still happy to be the bad guy.

  It was a fresh start I wanted, in a city where no one knew who I was or who the Kings used to be. Where I didn’t have a past. Where I could be whoever and whatever I wanted to be, master of my own destiny. Where I could escape.

  But before all of that, I had one last order to obey. A debt I owed to my oldest brother. And I was prepared to do anything to make good on it.

  I turned from the view to the sleek minimalist room that was my office. We were in the tower that housed King Enterprises, the hugely successful property development company my brothers and I had formed out of the rubble of Dad’s empire.

  Hamilton was sitting in the uncomfortable chair I’d positioned in front of my desk. He was an older man, silver-haired and blue-eyed, with that well-preserved look that only the very rich had.

  Except he looked every bit of his sixty-plus years right now.

  I tended to have that effect on people.

  ‘What do you think I mean?’ I gave him my very widest smile, the one that I was infamous for giving right before I was about to do some serious damage; nothing put someone off-balance like a smile right before you punched them in the face. ‘I want to marry her.’

  Hamilton paled. ‘You can’t be serious.’

  ‘Of course I’m bloody serious. I’d never joke about the sanctity of marriage.’

  He stared at me, confused by my sarcasm and my smile.