‘Because you’re the only one who knows me well enough.’ He raked a hand through his dark hair, fingers thrusting through the strands in a single, swift gesture.
Each movement radiated sexual energy and masculinity. It was no wonder the single shot of him in an intimate clinch with a certain technology heiress had been flashed all over the media...not that she’d been keeping tabs.
‘I’m worried for you, if that’s true.’ She couldn’t help it—some little part of her wanted to hurt him. To pay him back for those years she spent dealing with her problems confused and alone.
Her life had fallen apart when he left as if his departure had caused an irreversible ripple of tragic events. Sure, he might not have had direct influence but it had all started with him. It had been easy to blame him when he was on the other side of the world, but now he was mere inches from her and she was struggling to stay in control.
‘Ouch.’ A scowl flickered across his face, but he wouldn’t be so easy to tear down. ‘The lady has a sharp tongue.’
‘The lady also has a good bullshit detector.’ She tilted her head up at him and narrowed her eyes. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me.’
She sucked in a breath. Verbal sparring was like foreplay for the mind as far as Col was concerned. He didn’t need to touch her; he only needed to pour his words over her like warm honey. She squared her shoulders. She’d promised herself she would never forget how he left her, and that meant keeping her distance. She couldn’t give up that painful memory because it was what she used to shield herself against future hurt.
‘Have a drink with me tomorrow, we can sort out the business side of things and I’ll fill you in on the details.’
Going for a drink with Col was a bad idea. She was mouthy at the best of times, let alone when there were cocktails involved. That was exactly how they ended up in bed together the first time.
‘No.’
‘That’s one thing I admire about you, Elise.’ He reached out and touched her hair, smoothing the strands into place with his fingertips. ‘You’re so decisive.’
‘I don’t need your admiration.’ Her cheeks flamed. How was it that he could make a supposed compliment sound so derisive? ‘But you’re spot on, Col, and it’s with that personality trait that I can comfortably tell you to shove your proposal.’
‘You don’t even know what the proposal is.’ The corner of his mouth twitched.
‘Read my lips, Col.’ She was close enough to melt against him, and she had to fight the urge with every ounce of will power she possessed. ‘Shove it.’
‘Anywhere in particular?’ he drawled. The man was not going to back down, but she’d be damned if she’d let him pay her for anything. She might need the money, but she needed her dignity more.
‘Wherever it will fit.’
‘I’m not going to take no for an answer.’ His large hands ran up her arms to rest on her shoulders.
A frisson of excitement shot through her as his fingertips touched her bare skin, but she shook his hands off, swatting at him with force. ‘Good, because I’m not going to answer you again.’
‘You know I can be very dogged when I want to be.’
One didn’t become a CEO before they were thirty without a kind of obsessive persistence. He’d wanted her for years when they were younger and she’d dangled herself like a gleaming carrot in front of him. She’d only ever given in once...and it had been enough to unsettle the entire course of her life. Yes, it sounded a touch dramatic but the day he left, every semblance of normality she had ever known had fractured and splintered until there was nothing left. Part of her wanted someone to blame, and he was the only viable candidate.
‘Col, it takes a little more than repetition to get to me.’ She reached for her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
‘You don’t want to encourage me, Elise.’
Hearing her full name erupt like a growl from the back of his throat sent her senses into a frenzy. She was drawn to the guttural masculinity that simmered close to the surface whenever he chased something he wanted. It was the one crack in his public façade and she found it sexier than anything else on earth.
‘I wasn’t encouraging you.’
He opened his mouth and then thought better of responding. Holding his arm out for her, he waited patiently while she took longer than she needed to walk past without touching him.
‘We should continue this conversation over drinks.’
He stood close behind her while she set the alarm code for the studio. Elise bristled at his proximity, her body primed for his touch and yet retreating at the same time. Warning bells rang a crazy, maddening cacophony in her head while she chanted to herself: don’t give in, don’t give in.
‘There isn’t a conversation to continue, Col.’
‘So turn up, I’ll buy you a few drinks and you can think about where else I can shove my proposal.’ He followed her out of the studio into the balmy summer air.
Temptation curled in her belly like a snake preparing to strike. Her otherwise enviable discipline had never extended to Col. Somehow he made her forget everything she needed to do, every obligation she had, every belief she clung to.
‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’ He brushed his thumb across her cheek so gently she might have imagined it.
He was gone before she could think to protest, leaving her to fume that he’d got one over on her. Her fists clenched again, and she took a moment to steady herself before walking to her car. He had some nerve, coming back and turning up here as if his absence hadn’t left a giant, gaping hole in her life.
Feeling her phone vibrate in her bag, Elise dug through the mess of papers and beauty products to find the buzzing device. ‘Hello?’
‘Elise Johnson?’ The male voice was unfamiliar. ‘I’m calling from Victoria Bank. Do you have a moment to talk?’
TWO
Around them the café bustled as though the world wasn’t crashing down. People laughed, sunshine streamed in through the floor-to-ceiling windows and the cheerful sound of cups clinking against saucers scratched at Elise’s nerves. Perhaps a third coffee wasn’t a wise choice for someone who was already more hyper than a puppy on speed. Still, overindulging in coffee was a little better than face-planting into a tub of peanut butter and chocolate-fudge ice cream, which was exactly what she wanted to do.
The bank manager who called her last night had very politely informed her that she was at risk of defaulting on her loan for the EJ Ballet School studio. He’d asked her to come in and talk to one of the staff at the bank and explore what options were available, but Elise knew that without somehow increasing the money they were making the studio would be a goner. Then how would she support her mother?
The last twenty-four hours had been a mind-bender. Elise had flipped from telling herself it would all be okay to preparing herself for the worst, and with a night of terrible sleep behind her she felt frayed at the edges. Between her encounter with Col and the call from the bank, she’d barely eaten from the growing discomfort of nerves bundling tightly within her.
‘Ellie?’ Jasmine waved a hand in front of her face, her dark eyes narrowed. ‘You still with us?’
‘Col came to visit me yesterday.’ She hadn’t been planning on telling her friends—or anyone else for that matter—about Col’s visit but the words slipped out before she could stop them.
‘Wow.’ Missy, her other best friend slash employee, watched her with eyes wide as dinner plates. ‘That’s a surprise.’
‘I know.’
Missy fiddled with her coffee cup. ‘It’s been a while, hasn’t it?’
‘Five years.’ She nodded. There hadn’t been a word from Col in half a decade...not a peep since the night he left. ‘He wants to hire me...well, kind of.’
‘What on earth for?’ Jasmine asked, incredulous.
&
nbsp; ‘He wants to hire me to do something performance related, but he didn’t tell me what it was exactly.’ It sounded more ridiculous when spoken aloud than it did in her head...if that was possible. ‘He offered to pay me.’
‘What kind of performance?’ Missy leant in, her turquoise eyes alight with curiosity. Jasmine elbowed her in the ribs, glaring.
‘Like I said, I don’t know.’
Jasmine shook her head. ‘That sounds sus...you’re not thinking about it, are you?’
Elise rolled her eyes; her friend was ever the protective mother hen. ‘I wasn’t thinking about it.’
‘But...?’
‘Maybe now I am.’ She sighed. ‘I don’t know.’
‘It’s not a good idea,’ Jasmine said and Missy rolled her eyes.
‘I know that.’
‘Well?’
‘Well...’ She paused, letting out a long sigh. ‘The studio’s going through a rough patch.’
Missy’s aquamarine eyes widened. ‘You should have said something!’
‘It’s not a big deal, Miss.’
‘It is if you’re thinking of letting Col hire you,’ Jasmine replied.
‘This is my family we’re talking about...my life.’ How else would she support her drinking, gambling, all-kinds-of-screwed-up mother?
‘You deserve better.’ Jasmine shook her head, letting out a frustrated huff. ‘We’ll find a way to get the money for the studio. We can fundraise, run a charity drive...’
Missy nodded her head in vigorous agreement. ‘Anything you need.’
‘It’s a little worse than what a charity drive can help with.’ That was it; the stone-cold truth was out there. ‘Promise me you won’t tell the other teachers about this.’
The girls nodded and answered without hesitating, ‘We promise.’
Elise looked at her watch. She had precisely three hours in which to forget her dignity and plan how she was going to tell Col she was considering his offer...without even knowing what it was. How desperate was that? Her cheeks flamed at the thought; there was no way she should be doing this.
And yet he’d managed to make her the vulnerable party. Clearly his lure was as strong as it had ever been.
Closing her eyes, Elise forced the thought from her mind. She was doing this for the money and the money only. The fact that she’d wanted Col since she was old enough to understand the concept of desire was totally beside the point.
Ugh, why did she have to think about that? An uncomfortable sensation surged between her legs and Elise shifted in the hard café chair. She would not think about sleeping with Col, she would not think about sleeping with Col, she would not—
‘I don’t even want to know what you’re thinking about.’ Jasmine sighed.
‘I do,’ Missy chimed in with a wink.
‘I’m not thinking about him.’ I’m not, I’m not.
‘Like I said, don’t want to know.’ Jasmine shook her head. ‘I still can’t believe you didn’t tell us about the studio. How did it happen?’
‘I wish there was an easy answer to that.’
‘It’s pretty black and white when it comes to finances, Ellie. What’s going on that you’re not telling us?’
How could she tell her best friends that her mother had gambled away their savings on a horse race? Well, on several horse races and one greyhound race if she’d got her facts right, but it was all the same in the end. No money to pay the loan on the studio. A decline in the economy meant they’d lost a chunk of their student body when their parents could no longer afford added extras like ballet tuition. Then there were the ongoing costs for her mother’s medication, the fact that she hadn’t been able to go back to work...
‘Let’s just say it was a perfect storm.’ Elise sighed.
‘You know I hate it when you shut me out.’ Jasmine pushed back on her chair and picked up her bag.
‘Lucky for me you two put up with all my crap.’
The girls filed out of the café and into the summer air. A cool breeze danced across Elise’s bare arms and caused the hairs to rise. She had a very bad feeling about her meeting with Col...a very bad feeling.
* * *
By the time Col left his last meeting for the day he was drained, in desperate need of a stress-relieving workout...and he was late.
He’d known this trip wouldn’t be an easy one. He wasn’t even sure why his father had him listed as the executor of his will. It wasn’t as if he’d had anything to do with the man for the last decade of his life. Now he had to spend his precious time—time he should be using to prepare for a huge opportunity for his company—digging around a house he never wanted to visit, looking for paperwork so he could settle up an estate that was worth nothing...probably less than nothing by the time he subtracted the lawyer’s fees.
‘Dammit.’
He jogged to the rental car from the shiny office building, pulling his tie loose with one hand and dialling Elise’s number on his mobile with the other. She hadn’t exactly given him her number but Col’s assistant was a skilful detective, and shortly after he’d requested Elise’s number it had appeared in his inbox.
The phone rang once, twice, three times—‘Hello?’
Her husky little voice was enough to light a fire in his blood and tighten the front of his trousers. He was looking forward to seeing her far more than was healthy.
‘It’s Col.’
‘How did you get this nu—?’
‘Never mind that. I’m running late.’ He unlocked the car and slid into the leather seat. The car was stuffy from sitting in the sun and the leather warmed his skin through the thin cotton of his trousers.
‘Shocker.’
‘Let’s catch up near the hotel. That way I can duck back and have a quick shower before we meet.’
‘I don’t believe I actually agreed to meet you.’
‘Tell me you’re not already dressed up and waiting for me.’ Silence on the other end of the line confirmed he was right. ‘I’ll see you there.’
‘You do realise that sounds suspicious as all hell.’
‘It’s not a ploy, Ellie. I really want a shower...though you’re free to join me if you feel like saving on your water bill.’
‘Where are we meeting?’ She wasn’t going to bite...unfortunately.
‘That little bar under the bridge on Southbank. It’s the one—’
‘I know which one it is.’
‘See you there in an hour?’
Click. He’d take that as a confirmation.
An hour and a half later Col arrived at their meeting place and looked around for Elise. The open-air bar was attached to the bridge that ran over the Yarra River. Only in Melbourne would you find a bar suspended above water, with crates for seats and footsteps of the thriving nightlife above. But if there was a nook, an unused space, a seemingly pointless alleyway, Melbourne would find a way to put a café or a bar there.
He’d missed that when he was in New York, though not as much as he’d missed a certain feisty blonde.
A flash of emerald silk caught his attention. Elise sat perched on a stool with a drink in her hand, behind her the lights of the city dazzled in winking shades of yellow and orange. The green of her dress shone against creamy, bare skin. He had a weakness for her in that colour, and he’d told her so frequently. There was something about green in any shade that caused her skin to glow as if she were a naked flame.
The dress hugged her curves but draped modestly where it counted; a small side split in the knee-length skirt taunted him with a sliver of thigh. Her hair was carelessly piled on her head, the river breeze ruffling it out of formation, and two emerald-coloured stones hung from her ears.
‘You’re late,’ she said, a half-empty cocktail in front of her. ‘Later than when you o
riginally rang.’
‘I’m worth the wait.’ He dropped down to the stool next to her and motioned for the bartender.
‘Hardly,’ she said, but the flicker of her tongue against the corner of her glossy pink lips gave her away. That tongue had given her away before.
Col fought the urge to dip his head to hers and pull her tongue into his mouth. This was supposed to be about business. An unexpected wave of guilt rocked in his stomach—so much for all those journos who said he was cold as a New York winter. He still had the capacity to know when he was doing wrong by someone.
‘You look amazing.’ Okay, so maybe some of it wasn’t about business.
The corners of her lips pulled up into a forced smile. ‘Are you going to tell me why you dragged me out here?’
‘Why don’t we catch up first?’ He accepted the tumbler of soda water from the bartender. He didn’t need any alcohol affecting his judgement tonight, not when Elise seemed to do that so effectively on her own. ‘It’s been a while. What have you been doing with yourself?’
‘I’ve been keeping busy.’ She sipped from the edge of her glass delicately, her eyes fluttering closed as she savoured the liquid. He’d brought her here because he knew for a fact that they made a good Manhattan.
Part of him was comforted by the fact that her favourite drink hadn’t changed. She shifted on the bar stool and her dress moved, exposing more of her slender thigh. A gold anklet winked at him from the delicate joint of her ankle; he had an almost uncontrollable urge to run his tongue along the length of it. Enough!
‘Seriously, tell me what’s happened since I left. I’m interested.’
‘In the last five years?’
‘Has it been that long?’ Funny how half a decade could pass when you were sticking your head in the sand.
‘It most certainly has.’
‘And we’re both now responsible adults and entrepreneurs.’
She scoffed. ‘I would hardly call myself an entrepreneur, especially around you.’
‘You’re running your own business, doing well for yourself.’
‘And if by doing well for myself you mean running my business into the ground...’ She frowned, tipping her head back to enjoy the last mouthful of her drink.
Breaking the Bro Code Page 2
