Romance: The Playboy (The Hot Aussie Heroes series Book 3)

by Madeline Ash

  Her horrified silence must have asked how.

  “Why else would you not want to talk about it?”

  “Maybe it’s boring.”

  His smug grin knew it wasn’t. Those gleaming teeth took her back to the café where he’d been so sure of himself. If she’d learnt one thing that summer, it was that there was no arguing with cockiness.

  She turned away. “You can go now.”

  He ignored that. “I’m thinking if it were illegal, you’d have told Josh the other night because he’d get a kick out of it.”

  Alexia picked determinedly at the cotton of her towel. Parker shifted. She knew he was studying her and hated that she burned even as he carelessly dug into her private life.

  “If it were embarrassing, Dee would have told us because she’d get a kick out of it.”

  Several cotton loops came loose.

  His tone was indulged as he said, “I’m now using the power of deduction.”

  “You only want to know because I don’t want to tell you,” she accused softly.

  “I’ve seen how solidly you can act. I’m interested in how you do it. Research included.”

  She arched a brow at him.

  A fast grin claimed his features. “And maybe because of my deduction.”

  Alexia stalled with silence. Embarrassment churned beneath her skin and tightened the muscles in her throat. “You said you’d changed,” she managed to say. “But you still think you have a right to things that you definitely don’t.”

  That wiped out his humour. Features tight, he looked at the sky.

  “Sorry.” His words were clipped. “Call it a lapse.”

  “Yeah, well.” She shook her head, flustered and more than a bit furious. At Parker and her whole futile situation. “You’re right. I have to have sex, okay? Dani vents her aggression in the bedroom. Those scenes will be raw and greedy, and I don’t know how to do that.” Then she fed him a lie, much quieter. “I’m a sweet and tender girl.”

  Parker clearly required time to digest that. He didn’t move.

  “I need experience, that’s all.”

  Complete stillness.

  Alexia took a deep breath, new air pushing the nervous energy from her lungs. She shouldn’t be mortified that Parker knew – she should seize this opportunity. Perhaps there was someone special to be found. A little bit of magic. On her exhale, she made herself ask, “Know anyone?”

  He turned to stare at her, eyes wide.

  “I’m struggling to lock in a contender.”

  Parker pressed a hand over his eyes.

  “I don’t need much,” she said. “But he’d have to be nice. Patience would help, too.”

  When he spoke, it was more of a groan. “You’re asking if I know a nice guy who’d be willing to sleep with a woman who’s as modest as she is beautiful?”

  She paused, confused. “That’s a matter of opinion. I don’t want a relationship. It’s unfair, but I’ll be using him.”

  Parker looked like he’d been punched in the gut. “Christ.”

  Alexia tucked her elbows into her sides and lay flat on her towel, cheek pressed against the fabric as she watched him. “Are you making fun of me? Because it’s serious. I need this role.”

  Several moments before he murmured, “There’s a lot going on in my head right now and none of it’s making fun of you.”

  “What’s it doing?”

  “I couldn’t put it into words. Nor should I.”

  “You won’t tell anyone?” Her dignity would be in flames if the media found out. “Promise me.”

  “Promise.”

  “If you think of anyone, let me know.”

  He didn’t answer. Just sat up and looked towards Lullabar. “Dee’s coming back.” He stood, picking up his tablet and putting distance between them again. Alexia didn’t look behind her in case Dee was nowhere in sight. “Enjoy Josh’s gig on Friday.”

  With that, he left.

  Within a minute, Dee stood in his place. She tilted her head as she sucked lemonade through a straw. There was a question in that tilt.

  “I told him I have to have sex,” Alexia said miserably.

  The straw was spat out. “Oh my God, that’s great!”

  “No, it’s not, and before you suggest it, I still have plenty of reasons why he’s not the one for this.” Plenty of reasons, but less resistance. “It wouldn’t be right.”

  “Then why did you let him touch your face?”

  “I had a spider in my hair.”

  “Then why did you tell him?”

  “He talked me into a corner.” She rubbed her face. “He just wanted to embarrass me. He’s not interested.”

  Dee sat beside her and passed the lemonade. Alexia relished the cool sweet drink, a relief from the relentless heat, but nearly spat it everywhere when Dee continued, “Then why did he walk away looking too big for his shorts?”

  *

  Parker powered into Lullabar, thumbing through his phone and giving every appearance of being professionally distracted. A few smiles, a greeting for Lori as she served drinks, and he was unlocking the door behind the bar and closing it firmly behind him.

  God. What torture.

  Alone in the short, dim corridor, he adjusted himself. An issue that hadn’t struck him so publicly since adolescence. It had been a while, that was all. Four months, not that he was counting, because gone were the days of always having a woman between his sheets. He no longer indulged his every want.

  He could, easily. But denial reminded him of what life was like for others. Some people struggled, stripped of every opportunity to thrive, while some simply weren’t as lucky.

  Parker gripped the swipe card in his hand. The staff bathroom was on his left and a couched alcove for breaks on the right. His office was through the locked door at the end. Much of Lullabyron’s business took place in Sydney – the sales and marketing departments, the design team. All managers reported to Parker and he visited often. Lullabar, however, was his personal project.

  In his chair, laptop on, he stared blankly at the screen.

  Alexia looked back at him. Sunbathing on her towel, caramel bikini tied across her smooth skin, long curls slipping across her shoulders and down her spine.

  Frustration tensed across his back. He shouldn’t have pushed for the nature of her research. He’d been teasing about sex. As if that had seemed plausible. Now that he knew that she was in town to get down raw, gritty style – well, it did things to him. Hot, needy things.

  Chemistry outdid itself between them. He’d never felt anything like it. Pulling determinedly, a rip dragging him towards her, insistent enough to drown him.

  He knew she felt it, too. It spoke bluntly of how little she forgave him that despite the pull and her apparent difficulty in finding a bed partner, requesting Parker’s assistance wasn’t an option.

  He got it. He did.

  His lust was confounded, but his head definitely got it.

  Alexia hadn’t been around to witness him change. As far as she could tell, he was still conceited, entitled, and high on the glory of being himself. He couldn’t blame her for not wanting to go there, not after the way he’d treated her because of those very traits.

  He could blame his past self. That was nothing new.

  A knock on the office door interrupted his thoughts. A moment later, Lori stepped in holding a mug. “Coffee for the boss?”

  He reached out. “Bless you, child.”

  Chuckling, she carried it over. As he took it, she rested her hip against his desk. “You’re still stressing about the fundraiser?”

  In general, yes. “I want it to go well.”

  “It will. You’ve got big names coming. And seriously, if a surfing competition doesn’t draw people in, closing a Byron beach during tourist season will have them paying to find out what’s going on.”

  He smiled. True enough.

  “Now,” she said, raising a brow. “Who’s the girl?”

  His smile slipp
ed.

  “I carried drinks out front before and saw you on the beach.”

  Alexia couldn’t be summed up in a sentence. “She used to live around here. We went to school together.”

  “You were smiling,” Lori pointed out. “So was she.”

  Parker leaned back in his chair, drinking coffee and considering. He’d made Alexia smile. Pleased her by watching her show and being hooked by it. He’d taken a step towards showing her she mattered to him.

  She’d only stopped smiling because he’d pinpointed her reason for being in Byron. On that thought…

  “Lor,” he said. “Remember those few weeks when Lullabar first opened?”

  Her brows rose. They’d hooked up, before she’d met her husband. “Yeah.”

  “How would you describe my style?”

  Her brows rose higher. The corners of her mouth lifted with them. “Your style?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Like, slow and sweet?”

  He grimaced internally. “Not raw or gritty or anything?”

  She all but pointed and laughed. “Parks, that’s hilarious,” she said, nudging his leg. “No, nothing like that. Why?”

  “No reason.”

  She raised a brow but let it go, heading out of the office. “Be happy with your style,” she said over her shoulder. “It’s where your heart is.”

  She closed the door behind her.

  Parker sighed. His style shouldn’t matter – Alexia wasn’t interested. But on some level, he’d thought that if he were a rough and tough lover, he could… maybe… offer.

  Imagine that conversation.

  One hundred percent out of the running, all Parker could do was keep an eye out while Alexia was in Lullabar and make sure she didn’t go home with the wrong kind of guy.

  Like she had many summers ago.

  Chapter Four

  ‡

  That night, Alexia almost made out. Her rationale was that if she mingled, the deadline of Josh’s band starting might help her take the plunge. So, as the bar grew more crowded, she got talking, flirted, and tried to imagine what it would be like to kiss the man before her. Taste him. Have his hands on her. Each time, she almost managed to ignore the fact that there was no spark of attraction between them – she hadn’t been drawn to her co-stars either, and she’d kissed them for the sake of her career. This shouldn’t be any different.

  It was. When the third guy paused, mid-conversation, to cup her cheek and lean in, she baulked and fled upstairs.

  Dee was on her tail.

  “What was that about?” She closed the door loudly, following Alexia into the bathroom. “You were so close!”

  “Yeah,” she mumbled, alarm still beating hot and hard in her chest.

  “This is crazy. I can’t help you if you won’t help yourself.”

  Alexia nodded, gripping the vanity and staring at the basin.

  “It’s just kissing.”

  At that, her throat tightened.

  “We’ve only got a few weeks and we haven’t even reached Stage—”

  “It won’t work.” Alexia finally broke. Tears gathered in her eyes and spilled over as she faced her friend. “I can’t do it like this.”

  The tears came thicker, because admitting defeat meant sacrificing Dani. The loss was almost physical; an emptiness inside, where she’d clutched hope so obsessively. One decision and it was gone. Another role might not come up for months, and even then, she could fall prey to typecasting. That would bring in work, but surely she could only play a chaste know-it-all for another year or two. And it wasn’t exactly her dream career. Like most, she wanted to be one of the greats; an actor people claimed could ‘do anything’.

  She couldn’t even kiss.

  That kick-started the sobbing.

  “Oh, darling.” Dee rushed in, tugging the kerchief off her head and using it to dry Alexia’s cheeks. “I didn’t realise. I’m so sorry.”

  Alexia nodded, trying to pull herself together. Warmth surrounded her, a comfortingly curvy embrace that smelled like make-up and hairspray, but a hug alone couldn’t breach the emptiness.

  “It’s only that acting is your life.” Dee spoke gently, chin on Alexia’s shoulder as she rubbed her spine. “You want this so badly.”

  She really did. But her gut reaction opposed.

  “I wasn’t trying to force you, honey. I just don’t want you to regret letting this opportunity slip.”

  When the sobs turned to sniffles, Dee pulled back and dabbed the kerchief beneath Alexia’s eyes again.

  “I know,” Alexia managed. “Me neither.”

  But more so, she didn’t want to regret the way she lost her virginity.

  “Is it because you don’t know them?”

  She sniffed again. “Yeah.”

  Her friend tilted her head, sympathy rounding out her bottom lip.

  “They’ve all been okay guys,” Alexia said shakily in their defence. “But they didn’t stand out, you know? There was no connection.”

  Dee planted a red-lipped kiss on her cheek. “I’m proud of you for knowing you deserve attraction and connection, and being strong enough to wait for it.” Then she led Alexia out of the bathroom and sat her on the bed. Striding away, Dee opened the door to the balcony, letting in the soft sound of lapping waves, and proceeded to rummage through Alexia’s luggage. She came out with a crocheted cream beach dress. Holding it up, she said, “Victory.”

  She threw it at Alexia.

  “This trip has suddenly become a holiday.” Dee smiled, blue eyes sparkling behind her glasses. “We’re young and carefree – with sex off the cards, we have no choice but to dance the night away.”

  “Off the cards for one of us,” Alexia murmured.

  Her friend didn’t deny it. “Get changed, cheeky.”

  The loose weave of the dress made a bikini beneath essential. She changed in the bathroom, wrangled the salty disaster of her hair into a braid, and cleaned up her mascara. In the wake of her tears, she felt hollow and more like curling up in bed than dancing. But Dee was trying to help and she should at least hear a few of Josh’s songs.

  She emerged, rolling back heavy shoulders.

  “There’s a flaw in your rescue signal strategy,” Dee stated, eyeing her as she flung open the hotel room door.

  Alexia frowned. “But I’m not—”

  “It won’t work if I’m the one trying to kiss you, you damn hottie.”

  Despite everything, Alexia laughed.

  *

  Josh’s band was taking to the stage as they returned downstairs. People crowded in, transforming the laidback bar into a live music venue, packed to bursting. Singlets and shorts dominated, followed closely by tiny dresses and bare male chests, thickening the inside air with body heat and summer-sticky skin. Industrial sized fans blasted from the walls, blowing hair but barely cooling the bodies beneath.

  As coastal pop filled the venue, Alexia gripped her friend’s hand and was drawn to a spot with a view. Josh sang with a huskiness that had Dee fanning herself while Alexia beamed. Long gone were the earnest acoustic covers he’d played as a teen. She remembered humid afternoons by the beach, school uniforms rolled up as she practiced lines for drama and he messed around on the guitar, using the lines as lyrics. For the first few songs, the memories warmed her.

  Then she remembered.

  Her gut sank, stone cold. Giving up the role of Dani meant losing what she’d worked her life to achieve. The loss was a cracking blow to her head and heart.

  She mimed getting a drink to Dee and apologised her way to the bar. Alcohol would tip her from upset to histrionic, so she ordered lemonade and retreated outside.

  The music stayed indoors. She walked past people sitting on beachside tables, laughing over beer and chips, and sat alone on the sand. The balmy air danced along the shore, twirling up a sluggish breeze. A true summer night, right down to the flies and mosquitoes, and she slapped at the tell-tale sting on her ankle. Not far away, a couple sat in fold-
out chairs in the shallows, clasped hands hanging above the water, feet kicking the waves.

  They looked happy.

  Her heart yearned. Softly, like a puppy that knew better than to whine at the gate but couldn’t quite help it. She was twenty-three. She had plenty of time to fall in love. Later. Now, she had to stay focussed. Even if she avoided the temptation to change her lifestyle for the sake of love, a boyfriend would feel neglected by the hours she dedicated to her job. It wouldn’t be fair on either of them. This view of relationships felt rational – and yet, every so often she wished the ‘life’ in her work / life balance held more value than exercise and sleep.

  Alexia heard movement behind her. With a dip of her pulse, she prayed it wasn’t any man she’d flirted with these past few days, intending to pick up where they’d left off.

  “Everything okay?”

  Parker. Her pulse dipped again, and her stomach with it.

  She glanced up as he drew level with her. The light of the bar splashed against the side of his face, illuminating his concern as he met her gaze.

  “You ran upstairs in a hurry before,” he said, tone serious. “Did that guy say something to upset you?”

  “Not exactly.” She shifted, stomach dipping again. So Parker had been watching her. “But if he had?”

  “He’d no longer be welcome at Lullabar.”

  She paused. “Is that guilt talking, because you were once that guy?”

  “Guilt.” Shadow covered his face as he glanced at the water. “Now that would be simple and uncomplicated.”

  Alexia frowned as intuition warned her to be careful. If not guilt, then he spoke out of protectiveness. And protectiveness tended to strike alongside other primal urges. Lust in particular.

  She could be wrong. He could be protective of his patrons. Protective of his venue’s reputation. Protective of her as a friend of Josh’s. All just as likely and ten times more preferable.

  Then he looked back down, desire bold in his eyes.

  Response flooded her. A hot surge of pure attraction, and Alexia knew that if he weren’t Parker, weren’t a man with debatable morals and intentions, she’d go to bed with him without hesitation. She’d go right now, a simple summer fling with a sexy surfer, and regret nothing.