by Nicola Marsh
If Jack had psyched himself up last night to keep his hands off Jess, it was nothing to the mental prep he had to do to face Reid.
The suave, confident Yank was one of his best friends. A good mate he could rely on. Someone who’d seen something in him when no one else had.
Even now, ten years later, he couldn’t quite fathom why the rich guy from a small town in Nevada had taken a chance on an Aussie drifter.
But Reid had. While they’d swapped stories in the outback, they’d also traded dreams. Reid had big plans. Places to go, people to meet. Politics. Jack could think of nothing worse, being surrounded by a bunch of backslapping pricks every day for work.
Ironically, when Reid had asked Jack what were his dreams, Jack hadn’t known. The only thing he could do remotely well was cook. So Reid had taken the idea and run with it. Used connections in the business world, called in a favor from an old family friend, set up an apprenticeship in one of Sydney’s premier restaurants and Jack had done the rest. Completed an economics degree part-time when he wasn’t working manic hours at the restaurant, building his own contacts in the culinary world, saving every cent he earned.
When he’d finished his apprenticeship, Reid had stepped in again, this time with an investor: Dorian. The rest was history. He’d launched Cookie’s and it quickly became the go-to place on Sydney’s North Shore. Had grown in stature, drawing crowds from across the harbor city, cementing him in culinary circles.
And he owed it all to Reid and Dorian. The faith those blokes had in him floored him to this day. If it weren’t for them…where would he be? Still drifting through the outback, cooking for a bunch of cattlemen and shearers? Content to have no home because he was too scared to put down roots considering the past he was running from? No ties to anyone, just the way he wanted it?
Not that he had many ties these days. Sure, he had acquaintances in the business world, mates he’d met over the years, but no one he could truly rely on, no one he trusted like Reid.
The guy whose sister he wanted to root senseless.
In all honesty, Jack didn’t know why he’d set up this meeting today. They’d planned to catch up over a beer tomorrow before he flew out to Prince Island. But Jack hadn’t slept well last night. He’d been plagued by thoughts of Jess: her beauty, inside and out.
No woman had got close to him, ever. Yet in twenty-four hours she’d crawled under his skin until she was all he could think about. At this rate he’d be serving barbecue shrimp and pavlova at the wedding, simple Aussie fare, because damned if he could come up with any new signature dishes in the state he was in.
He’d thought getting laid might solve the problem last night but now? Having a one-night stand with some transient woman wouldn’t ease what plagued him. He had it bad. For Jess.
Guaranteed thirty minutes with Reid would clear his head so he could focus on what was important for catering this wedding—providing the best damn food.
That was the plan. He’d better stick to it.
“Mr. Harper will see you now,” Reid’s PA said, gesturing toward his office.
“Thanks.” Jack ignored the appreciative smile the coiffed blonde shot him and headed for Reid’s office, where he knocked twice before entering.
Reid had a cell in one hand, a coffee in the other and was talking into a Bluetooth clipped to his ear. He nodded at the sideboard for Jack to help himself to coffee.
Jack didn’t need caffeine. He was wired without it, but he poured himself a cup of strong espresso and waited for the up and coming senator to finish winning friends and influencing people.
Reid mouthed ‘sorry’ as the call continued, giving Jack time to finish his espresso and check emails on his cell before Reid finally lost the corporate paraphernalia and came around the desk to slap him on the back.
“Jack, how’s it hanging?”
“All good, mate. You?”
“Same shit. Different day.” Reid poured a coffee and sank into a black leather L-shaped combo set up in the corner of his gargantuan office. “Sometimes I wonder why I chose this crappy career.”
Jack sat opposite. “Because you’re good at what you do.”
“Spin shit and expect people to believe it?” Reid sipped his coffee and grimaced. “Don’t think I’m cut out for the campaign trail.”
“Problem?”
Reid shook his head. “Just the usual muck-raking pricks who expect you to kiss ass at functions after dragging you through the dirt earlier in the day.”
“Glad it’s you and not me, mate.”
Jack couldn’t stand the fake schmoozing that must be part of Reid’s job on a daily basis. He had his fair share in the restaurant business, and dealt with celebs on the TV circuit, but he didn’t take shit from anyone and they soon twigged to it.
“Anyway, enough of my whining. Have you seen Jess yet?”
Damned if it took every ounce of Jack’s willpower not to slam the coffee cup onto the table and bolt.
“Yeah, we caught up at Burlesque Bombshell, had dinner last night.”
“Great. How is my sis?”
“Same as ever.”
Another massive lie. No way was the new, brash Jess anything like the quiet girl she’d once been. While it turned him on, big time, it also scared the shit out of him. He’d barely handled a shy Jess ten years ago. What hope did he have against a brash woman intent on seduction?
“Really? Too bad.” Reid shook his head. “I’d hoped living in Vegas for a while would help shake the funk she’s been in.”
“She seemed okay to me?” Jack ventured, intrigued to hear Reid’s take on how his sis was doing. Just because they couldn’t get physical didn’t mean he didn’t care about Jess’s welfare.
“Sure, she seems okay, but it’s like…”
Jack heard the concern in Reid’s tone. “Like what?”
“Like she’s so used to being the perfect daughter, the perfect fiancée, the perfect town good girl, she doesn’t know how to live any more.”
Interesting how Reid had echoed Jess’s reasons for cutting loose.
“I wouldn’t worry.”
Reid perked up. “Why? Did she say something to you?”
“Kinda.”
Jess had said a lot of things but none Jack could repeat to her brother.
“She seemed pretty jazzed to be planning the wedding. And I saw her out at that nightclub near the Bombshell.”
The tension in Reid’s shoulders visibly dissipated as he sank into his chair. “Good for her. Time she shook things up a bit.”
“Yeah.” Jack hoped his response didn’t sound as weak to Reid as it did to his ears. “She’s a good kid.”
Reid laughed. “You must be losing your touch if you think Jess is a kid.”
Flummoxed, Jack sat there, unsure how to respond. Was Reid implying he should notice Jess as a woman?
“Did she tell you we’re being flown to Prince Island to ensure the menu and rest of the wedding stuff is done?”
“No, we haven’t spoken this week.” Reid drained his coffee and set the cup down on a glass-topped side table. “Good to know she’ll be in safe hands.”
If Reid only knew…Jack’s hands were far from safe if they were wrapped around Jess.
The things he’d like to do to her…
“We’ll get the job done.”
“I have no doubt.” Reid stuck a finger between his tie and collar and loosened it. “Dorian would skillet you otherwise.”
Jack didn’t need reminding. Dorian Gibbs expected the best. In everything. Jack was convinced it was Dorian’s personal endorsement of Cookie’s that had kick-started his reputation and it had grown from there.
For the guy to fly him out here and give him carte blanche where the wedding menu was concerned? Dorian trusted him and no way would he repay that trust by screwing around with his wedding planner.
“We still on for that beer tomorrow?”
Reid shook his head. “Sorry. Meeting with my campaign manager has been
slotted in. Can we have that beer at the wedding?”
“You mean you’re taking time out to actually go to that?”
Reid cocked his thumb and forefinger, and mock fired. “You’re just as much of a workaholic as I am, McVeigh.”
“Not as bad as you.”
“Makes for a shitty private life.” Surprisingly pensive, Reid rubbed the back of his neck. “You seeing anyone?”
“No. You?”
Reid grabbed his cell, hit the calendar button and held it up. “With this schedule? No way.”
Jack could empathize. “Listen to us. A couple of sorry ass bachelors.”
Reid glanced at the calendar. “Unfortunately, this sorry ass has a conference call scheduled in five minutes.”
Reid stood and held out his hand. “We’ll definitely have that beer on the island, okay?”
“Done.” Jack shook his hand, wondering how willing Reid would be to have that beer if Jess’s plan to seduce him on the island worked. “See you in a fortnight.”
Reid looked blank momentarily before grinning. “That means two weeks, right?”
Jack snorted. “You’ve forgotten your Aussie lingo already. Going soft, mate.”
“Speak for yourself, big guy.” Reid held up his pinkie and let it droop.
Not that Jack would wish impotence on his worst enemy but he wished his cock wouldn’t stand to attention every time Jess glanced his way.
“Go schmooze some gullible Yanks, Harper.” Jack grinned and saluted.
“Go cook some Aussie bush tucker, McVeigh,” Reid said, his backslap reminding Jack of exactly how important this friendship was.
As he left the office, Jack’s resolve to keep his hands off Jess strengthened. He knew spending five minutes in Reid’s company would do the trick; would remind him it wouldn’t be smart to mess with something so solid and good.
Jack had mucked around enough in his younger years. Deliberately sabotaging relationships to prevent people getting too close and ultimately letting him down. Keeping his distance from those who made emotional overtures.
Reid Harper had seen the good in him. No frigging way would he taint it with bad.
And that meant taking a week of cold showers on Prince Island to ensure he didn’t lay a finger on Reid’s hot sister.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Burlesque Bombshell Basics
Recreate the glamour of a 1930s silver screen siren. Marlene Dietrich, Jean Harlow, Mae West, Greta Garbo. Tight marcel waves a must.
Chantal snatched Jess’s list out of her hand and waved it overhead, out of Jess’s reach.
“Give me that.” Jess leaped to no avail, considering Chantal had four inches on her—seven with her trademark towering stilettos.
“Not ‘til I make sure you’ve got everything you need,” Chantal said, chuckling as Jess made a final lunge, only to be one-upped by Adele, who sauntered into the office at that moment and plucked the list out of Chantal’s hand.
“What’s this?” Adele held it aloft. “And why do you want it so bad?”
Jess blushed. Last thing she needed was these two elegant, gorgeous women comfortable with their sexuality reading her pathetic list.
“It’s Jess’s,” Chantal said, her wide smirk alerting Jess to the fact her cousin must’ve caught a peek at the title. “I think it’s her checklist to seduce the hot Aussie chef and I just want to make sure she’s got all bases covered.”
“Some things are private.” Jess frowned when she caught the shared glance of amusement between the other two women. “Give me that.”
“You should’ve said please.” Adele smirked and unfolded the piece of paper with taunting slowness.
“Please—”
“Too late, Cuz.” Chantal rubbed her hands together in glee. “Besides, some things may be private but when it comes to getting the guy, you’re in the company of experts here. We only want to help.”
Jess didn’t buy Chantal’s faux innocence for a moment, while Adele muttered, “Expert? Speak for yourself.”
Chantal waggled her finger at Adele. “You still know how to work it.”
Adele rolled her eyes. “Trust me, the only thing I know how to work these days are my spreadsheets.”
“Going through a dry spell?”
“More like a drought.” Adele absentmindedly tapped the list against her other hand. “If I go any longer without a date, I’ll be forced to revoke my secret Bombshell membership and hand in my feather boa.”
Chantal rubbed her hands together. “Let’s take care of Jess’s love life first, then we’ll move onto yours.”
Adele shot Jess a look of pure panic. Considering the woman held her embarrassing list, Jess was out of sympathy.
“Are you going to read that list or shall I?” Chantal tapped her silver spangled pump against the floor in impatience and Jess, resigned to the inevitable, slumped into the nearest chair.
Adele murmured “sorry” but by the gleeful gleam in her eyes, she wasn’t.
The incriminating paper crinkled between her fingers as Adele smoothed it out and handed it over to Chantal. “You do the honors.”
“Put me out of my misery and get on with it already, you nosy sneaks.” Jess slouched further into the chair, knowing what was coming, a small part of her curious as to what the girls would think.
If anyone knew how to seduce a guy these two would. Adele, a statuesque redhead, could turn guys’ heads by walking into a room and Chantal, a showgirl who’d taken Vegas by storm in her younger days, brought a definitive va-va-voom to the burlesque scene if gossip around the club was anything to go by.
While Jess had been hanging around the dancers the last few days picking up tips, she’d also enjoyed chatting with the glamorous girls and learning everything she could about the sensual art of burlesque.
She’d also researched it extensively on the Net. Guess she could take the librarian out of Craye Canyon but she couldn’t take the librarian out of the girl.
“Nice title.” Chantal cleared her throat. “How To Get Jack Naked.”
Adele smothered a chuckle at Jess’s death glare and Chantal gave her a thumbs up sign of approval. “Shall I continue?”
“Please don’t,” Jess said, wishing she hadn’t read that stupid self-help book after dumping Max, the one citing list making for taking control of her life.
“Please do,” Adele said, and shrugged when Jess glared. “Hey, if I’m not getting any, at least let me live vicariously through you.”
With a heavy sigh, Jess waved at Chantal to continue.
“This is a pretty long list so I’ll abbreviate to the checked items,” Chantal said, her eyebrows rising as she scanned the page. “Sexy playlist. Edible body oil. Corsets, garters, seamed stockings. Blindfold?”
Heat flooded Jess’s cheeks. “It’s a secret fantasy.”
Chantal eyed her with admiration. “I’m beginning to have a newfound respect for you, Cuz.”
“And I’m beginning to feel like the boring spinster I’m going to become,” Adele said, her admission tempered with an encouraging smile. “Good for you, Jess. Guys can be dumb. Pays to have a plan.”
“Jack isn’t dumb, he just doesn’t want me.” Jess plucked at the edges of her frayed denim cut-offs. “Actually, he wants me, but he says it’s not going to happen.”
Chantal handed her the piece of paper. “Show him this, sweetie, and he’ll be begging for it.”
“Hope so.” Jess folded the list and tucked it into her pocket. “But he was pretty damn stubborn ten years ago; reckon he may hold out on me now too.”
“Get him drunk,” Adele said, with a firm nod. “Do shots, but don’t drink all yours. That way, if it goes pear-shaped afterward you can blame it on the alcohol.”
“Nice one, Del.” Chantal licked the tip of her finger and chalked up a point in the air. “What’s his problem anyway? Anyone can see the guy’s hot for you.”
“His problem is Reid.” Jess loved her brother but she wished he wasn’t so c
lose to Jack. Shouldn’t guys drift apart after all these years, especially living on different continents and working in different jobs? But noooo…her bro and Jack had to be best buds, and totally screw with her plan to cut loose.
“Reid?”
Chantal took a seat next to Jess. “Reid Harper is Jess’s brother.”
To Jess’s surprise, Adele blushed.
Chantal sniggered. “Del saw Reid speak at a fundraiser the club sponsored and was goo-eyed for a week.”
“Was not.” Adele’s blush deepened and in that moment, Jess registered her porcelain pale skin, her big blue eyes and wavy, shoulder length auburn hair. Silly, as Jess had seen Adele several times over the last month but it wasn’t until now that Jess realized something; Adele was just Reid’s type.
Reid loved redheads.
Reid was single.
Adele was lamenting being single.
They were both attending Zazz’s wedding.
Oh yeah, this could work.
“Reid’s a good guy,” Jess said, trying to keep enthusiasm for prospective matchmaking out of her voice. “I’ll introduce you at the wedding.”
Adele shook her head. “That won’t be necessary—”
“Great idea.” Chantal clapped her hands like a hyperactive kid. “I can see it now…that island’s going to be a hotbed of sex and scandal.”
“I wish,” Jess and Adele murmured in unison, staring at each other in disbelief before laughing.
“Ladies, I think this deserves a toast.” Chantal leaped to her feet, ducked behind her desk to open a bar fridge, and pulled a bottle of fine French bubbly out.
She uncorked it, filled three glasses from the sideboard and handed them around in the time it took Jess to wonder how cool must her cousin be to have a fridge and the best champagne chilling in her office. Closely followed by the thought of the collective frowns of Craye Canyon’s librarians and well-read patrons if she’d pulled a similar stunt at the library. At nine o’clock in the morning.
Jess giggled and accepted a glass with thanks.
Chantal held up her glass. “To us, and an island interlude filled with sun, sea, studs and sex.”
