by Amy Andrews
Ali rolled her eyes. For as long as she’d known Katarina she’d been searching for the one. God knew she’d been through enough men in this crazy pursuit. She looked at the pleading in her friend’s ridiculously blue eyes. She guessed it wouldn’t kill her to stay a little longer …
Especially if Kat’s focus was on seducing herself a man rather than finding one for Ali to seduce. She knew how this game went—she’d certainly played it often enough. She knew her role and she knew when to get lost.
‘Okay. Thirty minutes.’
Kat winked. ‘That’s all I need.’
Pete ushered Ali and Kat over to the low table Max had scored. Four padded seats that looked remarkably like footstools were placed evenly around the table.
‘This is Kat and Ali,’ Pete announced to Max, holding Kat’s hand as she lowered herself onto a stool.
Ali rolled her eyes as she sat herself down unaided.
‘And this is Max.’
‘Hi, Max,’ Kat said brightly.
Ali gave an uninterested nod as she stared into her glass and rode the buzz from her fourth daiquiri. It was probably time to stop now.
Max inclined his head politely. ‘Ladies.’
The smooth deep baritone of his voice washed over her like a slow sexy saxophone note and pulled Ali out of the buzz even as it added more bubbles to her blood. She looked up despite herself.
Into two very compelling grey eyes heavily fringed by dark brown lashes. She blinked, surprised by their intensity. By the sadness that lurked in them. By the time she’d widened her gaze to take in all of him a few seconds later, those eyes had totally sucked her in.
She knew all about eyes like that. Had seen them in the mirror every morning for the last year.
‘So,’ Pete said, indicating the daiquiri glasses. ‘Are you ladies celebrating something tonight?’
‘More like commiserating.’ Kat grinned and put her arm around Ali’s shoulder. ‘Ali’s ratfink ex married his trollop an hour ago and I brought her here to get resoundingly drunk.’
‘Ah, well done.’ Pete smiled, holding up his beer bottle and clinking it with Ali’s glass. ‘It’s the Australian way, after all. Our forefathers would be very proud.’
‘Well,’ Kat said, crossing her legs and circling her ankle, ‘she ruled out my first option.’
‘Oh?’ Pete asked, mesmerised by the slow rotation of a fire-engine-red stiletto. ‘What was that?’
‘Voodoo doll.’
Max almost choked on his beer as Pete threw back his head and laughed. Max raised an eyebrow at the woman who had been thrust upon him. Pete had been right—she was cute with her little snub nose and that persistently floppy curl.
It was a shame her olive gaze was so damn serious—it counteracted the cute very effectively. Max would have to be blind not to see the keep out signs.
‘Voodoo doll?’ Max queried.
Ali temporarily lost her train of thought with the combination of his sad eyes and jazz-band voice. Add to that his classic bone structure—pronounced cheekbones, wide jaw—and full mouth bracketed by interesting indents that she guessed were probably dimples were he ever to exercise them, it was hard to find again.
An interesting three-day growth peppered his jaw. It would have looked designer on Pete but the way Max rubbed at it, a little absently, a little harried, added to his jaded appeal.
‘Kat enjoys being dramatic.’ She shrugged, picking up the thread.
‘What a coincidence,’ Max said dryly as he glanced at Pete. He looked back at Ali and rolled his eyes. Her mouth twitched into a small smile and he found himself intrigued despite himself.
Pete ignored his friend. ‘I like it. Maybe we could have done the same for you, Max?’ Pete leaned in close to Kat. ‘Max’s divorce was final today.’
Ali watched as Max’s gaze, which had glinted with humour just seconds ago, grew suddenly bleak again and it stopped the breath in her lungs. He looked as if he’d had his soul sucked out.
And didn’t she know how that felt?
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.
Max looked directly at her. For a moment he felt a bizarre connection with her, a recognition of a fellow human being in misery. Ali had obviously had it rough too.
He shrugged. ‘C’est la vie.’
Silence fell between the four of them for a moment or two before Pete dived back in. ‘So, Ali, what do you do?’
Ali dragged her gaze from Max to Pete. Not that Pete was even looking at her. She fought the urge to smile. She had to give the man his due—Pete was doing his damnedest to play the charming host. But she didn’t for one moment think Pete gave a rat’s arse what she did.
She slid a sidelong glance at Kat who had tensed. ‘I’m a b—
‘Barista,’ Kat finished.
Ali blinked, not comfortable with her promotion from humble coffee-shop girl to barista. And certainly still not comfortable with the chain of events that had led to her current state of employment.
Even though she loved the simplicity, the freedom of it. Even though it appealed immensely as an alternate career path.
‘Oh, whereabouts? Max and I are often looking for good coffee.’
Ali cleared the emotion from her throat. ‘The River Breeze, at Southbank. It’s Kat’s place.’
A five-minute conversation followed on the merits of different coffees. It required very little input from Ali and Max.
‘That’s excellent,’ Pete murmured. ‘We’ll have to drop by, won’t we, Max?’
Max slid his friend a patient look. ‘Why yes, Pete, we will.’
Ali suppressed a smile. It was obvious Max wanted to be a party to this as much as she did. He looked as if he’d come straight from work, his teal and grey striped tie loosened, his top button undone.
Well, why didn’t they just speed it up? Pete and Kat could barely keep their eyes off each other—why drag it out? Get the regulation chit chat out of the way so she and Max could both leave and tomorrow their friends could justify jumping into bed together at such short acquaintance.
‘And what do you do, Max?’ she asked politely.
Pete, Who was smiling at Kat, jumped in quickly. Too quickly. ‘He’s an accountant.’
Ali looked from Max to Pete and back to Max again. ‘You’re not an accountant, are you?’
Max felt himself smile. It wasn’t something he’d done a lot of lately. It felt foreign so he stopped. ‘No,’ he said dryly, ignoring Pete’s eye roll.
Ali felt the full impact of that brief smile. His dimples became defined and deepened. His grey eyes seemed less bleak. She had to wonder how he’d look in full blown belly laughter. ‘So, what do you really do?’
‘I’m a lawyer.’
Ali’s first instinct was to flee. After all, Tom was a lawyer. Not to mention she was going to spend the next who knew how long—months probably—with a lawyer. A very, very good one apparently.
The best.
Still …
The desire to flee was overwhelming and she pushed up off her chair reflexively. Kat caught her wrist and held tight before Ali even had the chance to lift her backside.
Max ran the back of his knuckles along his jaw, taking time to process Ali’s surprising reaction. ‘You either don’t like lawyers or you’re a fugitive.’
Kat laughed. ‘And they say I’m dramatic. Ratfink ex is a lawyer,’ she explained.
It was an explanation that seemed to satisfy Pete, Max noted. But then Pete had ceased thinking with his head the second he’d laid eyes on Kat.
Max, on the other hand, wasn’t so sure.
‘I’ll get us some more drinks,’ Pete said.
Kat jumped up. ‘I’ll come with you.’
Before either Max or Ali could say no to another the lovebirds were halfway to the bar, Pete’s arm firmly wrapped around Kat’s waist.
And then they were two.
CHAPTER TWO
MAX returned his gaze to Ali, who was looking ready to bolt again. ‘You’re not
really a barista, are you?’
Ali huffed out a breath. ‘No. I just work in Kat’s coffee shop.’
Which was the truth. Or a semblance of it anyway. She did work at the River Breeze.
Now.
Come Monday she was going to spend an awful lot of time talking to her very, very good lawyer about what she’d done before that and she had no desire for a preview.
And besides, that part of her life was over.
Max watched Ali fiddle with her straw. She seemed tense and drawn. There was obviously more of a story there. But even more obviously she didn’t want to talk about it.
Which suited him just fine.
He glanced over at the bar where Pete was charming Kat. He looked back at Ali. ‘So,’ he said, trying to lighten the mood. ‘I’m a little out of practice with this. Should I be asking you your star sign or something?’ He even forced a smile to his lips.
Ali glanced at him, startled to think he might actually be serious. His self-deprecating grin allayed that fear immediately even as it did funny things to her pulse. She gave a half-laugh. It was a relief to talk to him without Kat hovering. Without expectations. Knowing that he was also no longer trying to appease his friend.
‘Something like that, I suppose. I think if you really wanted to impress me, though, you’d try and guess.’
Max liked the sound of her voice. It was evenly modulated. A voice for radio. Or for soothing frightened animals. He smiled and played along. ‘Hmm, let me see,’ he said, rubbing at his jaw. ‘Virgo.’
Ali raised an eyebrow. She knew zip about the zodiac but she could play along. ‘Interesting,’ she murmured. ‘And what makes you think that?’
Now he was stuck. Max didn’t have the faintest idea. He’d obviously been out of the game too long. He shrugged and then grinned. Hadn’t he seen the Virgo symbol often depicted as a curly-haired chick? With large breasts?
‘Because you’re a woman?’
Ali held her breath as his dimples lit up. It didn’t hurt that he’d noticed she was a woman either. ‘Is that an answer or a question?’
Max frowned. ‘I’m sorry?’
‘You don’t seem too sure about me being a woman.’
‘Oh no, sorry.’ Max let his gaze drop briefly to the barest hint of cleavage he’d been ignoring since she’d sat opposite. She had some kind of a silky blouse on, which glided interestingly across her chest with the slightest movement.
He returned his eyes to her face. ‘I’m very sure about that.’
Ali blushed. Actually blushed. She could feel her nipples tighten in blatant response to his appraisal and she blushed some more.
Max laughed as her cheeks grew a very cute shade of pink. ‘So did I guess right?’
Ali struggled to clear her head and act cool, as if good-looking men bantered with her every day. She shook her head. ‘Libran, I’m afraid.’
Max snapped his fingers. ‘That was my next guess.’
Ali laughed. ‘Right.’
Max took a swig of his beer, watching her as he tilted his head back. She’d relaxed a little. They both had. ‘Your turn.’
Ali cleared her throat, her gaze fixed on the tanned column of his neck as she absently swished her straw through her drink. Then, when she realised she was staring, she narrowed her eyes and fixed him with a speculative glance.
She knew already of course—it was a no brainer. It had to be Sagittarius. She could picture him stripped to the waist, all planes and muscles, a bow pulled taut, his torso powerful but leashed, ready for action.
Ali swallowed. Was it legal to have such indecent thoughts about a total stranger? Maybe she could ask him for his legal opinion?
Right—as if she could pull off such an obvious flirt.
The sad fact was she just hadn’t been born with the flirt gene. ‘Pisces.’
Max sucked in a breath. Something had been going on behind those serious eyes. Her pupils had dilated and they’d gone almost khaki they’d darkened so much. It took a moment for her words to sink in. Then he laughed.
Ali frowned. ‘What?’
Max grinned. ‘A fish? You think I’m a fish?’
Ali smiled back. Those dimples were really something. And when that smile went all the way to his eyes, it was truly something as well. ‘Fish are … cute,’ she said.
‘They’re cold and slimy and scaly. Seriously,’ he mocked, ‘do I seem any of those?’
No, he didn’t. She’d bet his skin was warm and smooth and that his mouth was hot and sweet. Ali felt her smile shorten as her brain wandered into dangerous territory. They held each other’s gaze and his shortened too as if they’d both remembered simultaneously that this was just pretend flirting.
For show. For the sake of their friends.
Some music started up loudly behind them and Max was pleased for the interruption. He looked at his watch then leaned in closer to be heard. A whiff of rum and strawberries made him want to move closer. ‘How much longer do you think we need to stick around for?’ He indicated the approaching lovebirds. ‘I think we’re just in the way now, don’t you?’
Ali concurred. ‘Most definitely.’
Pete and Kat arrived back to the table carrying more drinks. ‘Here we are,’ Kat announced, placing them on the table as she sat.
Ali looked at the fifth daiquiri and her stomach rebelled. The four previous ones had well and truly hit their mark and she knew another would not be kind to her head in the morning.
‘Ah, no, thanks,’ she said, pushing the offered drink aside. She risked a brief glance at Max, who nodded slightly and she stood. ‘I’m done in. I’m going to go home.’
‘Oh no!’ Kat implored, standing also. ‘Just a little longer.’
‘It’s okay, you stay. I’ll get a taxi home.’
‘No, Ali, I can’t let you get a cab home by yourself.’
Max, taking his cue, rose to his feet as well. ‘It’s okay, I’ll see she gets home safely. We can share a cab.’
Ali looked at him, surprised. This, she hadn’t expected. Didn’t need. ‘No, really, it’s okay. I’m a big girl—I can get a taxi all by myself.’
Max smiled. ‘I don’t mind. Really.’
His dimples, appearing suddenly again, were her undoing. She knew he wanted out of this mating ritual as much as she did and she felt like a co-conspirator. She just hoped they weren’t being too obvious in their rush to get away.
‘Okay … sure.’ They could always part ways once they were out of sight.
‘Well, I suppose, if you really think it would be all right …’ Kat murmured, looking at Pete and then back at her friend, hope and gratitude blazing in her eyes.
Ali nodded. ‘Can I have a word first?’
Kat grinned, knowing what was coming. ‘Yes, Mother.’
Ali dragged her friend to the side slightly. It was pointless telling Kat not to sleep with Pete. Blind Freddy could see that was where the night was heading. But she couldn’t walk away without knowing that her best friend was going to be safe.
‘Have you got condoms?’ she asked Kat.
‘Yes. Would you like some?’ Kat teased.
‘Some? Bloody hell, how many have you got?’
Kat shrugged. ‘It’s a big bag. I like to be prepared. I can spare a few.’
A few? Ali blinked. Of course. Regular Girl Scout was her Kat. ‘I’m catching a taxi with him, Katarina.’ Or pretending to anyway. ‘I am not sleeping with him.’
Kat shook her head in dismay. ‘He really is very attractive, you know.’
Ali didn’t need her friend to tell her that. Everyone in the bar could see that. But even worse than his good looks was his wounded air. Somehow that appealed even more. She knew, without it ever being spoken, he understood how deeply relationships could wound. And that was way more dangerous.
She pursed her lips about to say something then Kat whispered, ‘Moving-on sex,’ before squeezing Ali’s hand and walking back to Pete.
‘Are you ready?’ Max asked.
Ali flicked her gaze to Kat who winked at her. ‘Sure.’
A minute later they were heading out of the doors.
‘They didn’t exactly protest too much,’ Max said, his hand still at her elbow. She was wearing a floaty black skirt and he liked how it swung around her legs and seemed to skim in all the right places.
Ali laughed, feeling lighter now her escape was at hand. Or maybe it was the way her whole arm was warm from his touch or that her side tingled from the accidental contact of their bodies as the crowded confines of the bar had forced them closer.
He released her arm once they were outside in the comparably empty street. Ali stuck out her hand. ‘It was nice meeting you, Max. Thanks for making that whole friend set-up thing less awkward.’
Max shrugged and ignored her hand. ‘There’s a taxi rank just around the corner?’
‘Oh no,’ she said quickly, dropping her hand. ‘You don’t have to do that. It’s okay, really. They can’t see us now,’ she joked.
He shrugged again. ‘I have to get a taxi home. You have to get a taxi home. It makes sense.’
Their gazes caught and locked for a moment. His was all serious again, grey and solemn, his brow furrowed. She longed to see his dimples one more time and was surprised by the urge to lift her finger and trace the indentations either side of his mouth.
‘Okay,’ she acquiesced before she did something really dumb like follow through on that impulse.
Unfortunately the queue was staggeringly long for so early in the night and Ali almost groaned. Yes, they’d had a bit of banter going at the bar, but now, with their friends nowhere in sight and no real need to talk to each other, would it be horrendously awkward?
They joined the queue and stood silently for the first minute. Ali felt each second tick by like a bloody great doomsday clock. The movement of the crowd jostled her against him and her nose brushed against a cotton clad pectoral. She apologised and pulled away. But not before she’d inhaled a goodly dose of him.
Boy, oh, boy! He smelled like pheromone-laced chocolate. ‘Sorry about the fish thing,’ she said, her scrambled brain snatching at the first disjointed thought that passed by.
Max bestowed her with a half-smile as he cupped her elbow to steady her. ‘I’m sure my ego can stand it.’
