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Blame it on the Bikini

Page 3

by Natalie Anderson


  ‘No kidding,’ Drew interrupted rudely, her scrambled apology having no effect on his temper. ‘This is—’

  ‘My fault.’ To Mya’s horror, Brad coolly interrupted Drew. ‘I distracted her.’

  Drew turned his glower on Brad. But within a second his expression eased a fraction as he got a good look at the man now stepping up in front of him.

  Mya watched the two men square off. All of a sudden Brad seemed both taller and broader as he moved to put himself partly between her and Drew. Oh, this wasn’t good—she really didn’t need Brad interfering; she was on the line as it was. She could handle Drew herself without any macho-male stuff.

  Brad sent her a quick glance but seemed oblivious to her wordless plea to shut the heck up and back off. Instead he turned back to Drew.

  Mya held her breath but then Brad smiled—that big, easy smile, with just a hint of the ‘born-to-it-all’ arrogance. ‘My name’s Brad Davenport.’ He extended his hand as if it were not in the least embarrassing that he’d just been caught kissing the brains out of Drew’s employee when she should have been working. ‘I want to hire out your bar.’

  ‘Drew.’ Mya’s manager paused a moment and then shook Brad’s hand. ‘This is a popular place. I’m not sure you’ll need the whole bar for one small party.’

  ‘It’s not going to be a small party. I want the whole bar,’ Brad answered calmly. ‘Obviously we’ll pay to secure absolute privacy for the night.’

  Mya watched the change come over Drew as he assessed Brad’s worth. It didn’t take much to know the clothes were designer, the watch gold, the self-assurance in-built …

  ‘I’m sure we can come to some arrangement.’ Drew’s demeanour changed to sycophantic in a heartbeat.

  ‘I’m sure we can.’ Brad smiled his killer smile once again. ‘It should be good. This place has an atmosphere I like.’

  Mya watched the Davenport charm in action as he arranged a meeting time with Drew. He got everything his own way so easily. Utterly used to doors swinging open—and women’s legs parting on sight of that smile too. And while she was totally relieved he’d just saved her neck from the block, she was also irritated with the ease with which he’d done it. The man had everything. Money, looks, brains, charm. Had he ever known what it was to have to fight for something? To really have to work for something? Mya knew what it was to work, hard.

  ‘You have two minutes,’ Drew said to Mya, as if he were an emperor granting a favour to a lowly serf. ‘Then back behind that bar.’

  ‘Of course.’ Mya nodded as he disappeared into the crowd. Then she turned back to Brad. ‘I’m afraid you’re going to have to follow through on that meeting.’

  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ Brad didn’t look at all bothered. ‘I think a night here could be fun.’

  Mya chose to ignore the hint of entendre in his expression. ‘Have you got a reason to party?’

  ‘Who needs a reason?’ Brad shrugged.

  ‘Because life’s just one big party?’

  He merely chuckled and then stepped closer. ‘I’m sorry we were interrupted. Things were getting interesting there.’

  But that close call had firmly grounded Mya. ‘Things were getting out of hand,’ she corrected, opting not to look any higher than his collar. ‘I’m sorry about that. You took me by surprise.’

  ‘Wow,’ Brad said after a pause. ‘I’m intrigued to think what it’ll be like when I give you fair warning.’

  Mya shook her head and stepped away. ‘You’re not getting another chance.’

  She felt his hand on her elbow turning her back towards him. His hand slipped down her arm to take her fingers in his.

  The touch made her look up before she thought better of it. His surprisingly intense expression incinerated her but she hauled herself from the ashes of easiness. Mya liked sex, but she preferred it within the context of some kind of relationship, not the one-night-stand scene Brad was champion of. And she was steering well clear of any kind of entanglement for the foreseeable future. Long-term future. She had too much else to do—like work, study and occasionally eat and sleep.

  Also, this man had always had everything too easy. She’d just seen him in action—twice already tonight. He wasn’t having her that way again. She truly had just been caught by surprise, and her response to him was simply a reflection of his expertise and her lack of any physical release in the last while, right?

  The swirling frustration and embarrassment inside her coalesced and came out as temper. ‘You thought that picture was a booty call, didn’t you?’ She called him out with sarcasm-coated words. ‘From a woman that you haven’t spoken to in at least five years?’

  ‘Have we ever spoken?’ He laughed off her accusation. ‘I thought you and Lauren just paraded around fake-Goth-style and giggled behind closed doors. Interesting to think what was really going on behind those doors given the pictures you send each other. Thinking about it, you two went to prom together, didn’t you?’

  ‘With her boyfriend,’ Mya answered.

  ‘Oh, a threesome.’ Brad laughed harder.

  ‘If you remember, she tried to get you to take me.’

  ‘Oh, yeah.’ His eyes widened as he thought about it. ‘That’s right.’

  Unlike him, Mya had never forgotten what for her had been the most mortifying moment of that night. He’d been home from university. He’d had some silvery-blonde girlfriend with him. Tall and sleek, she’d had the obligatory blue eyes and the label clothes and the ‘born to it all’ attitude. Mya had hated her on sight. The girlfriend had spent most of the time spread on a sofa being kissed to glory by Brad.

  ‘You were wearing one of Lauren’s dresses,’ he said slowly.

  ‘Yes.’ She was amazed he’d now remembered that detail. Mya had butchered one of Lauren’s many formal dresses. A soft, pretty pink dress—never a colour she’d normally wear. She’d taken to it with a pair of scissors and completely cut away the back and secured it with long, trailing ribbons. She’d been aiming for a soft romantic look.

  It was the dress that she’d hoped might garner her the attention she’d thought she’d wanted. All she’d wanted to do was fit in—to be popular and accepted. To be just like the rest of them and not different for once. She’d wanted it to all be easy. But it was never as easy as a change of clothes. Make-overs didn’t change the person underneath. She hadn’t just been sixteen and never been kissed. She’d made it all the way to eighteen and first-year uni before that honour had fallen to a fellow student who’d seemed sweet enough until he’d had what he wanted.

  But back at that night of the dance, she’d had the whole prom fantasy. What wallflower schoolgirl didn’t? The one where the hottest guy in school asked her to dance and it was all perfect and ended with a kiss. Or the super-hot brother of the best friend asked her? Yeah, she’d been such a cliché. And she’d felt like a princess for all of five minutes, until Brad had ignored her. She’d been pretty and dressed up and hadn’t even been able to turn the head of the most sexually hungry male she knew back then.

  ‘You were too busy wearing that blonde to answer at the time,’ Mya said dryly.

  The dimple in his cheek deepened. ‘Yeah, that’s right.’

  He hadn’t appreciated his younger sister’s interruption. Mya had seen the raw lust in him, the tease, the firmness with which he pulled the girl onto his lap—his strong arm wrapped around her waist, his confident hand close to her breast. And for a few minutes, she’d wanted to be that girl. Now for five minutes she had been. And it was better than any fantasy.

  Mya sucked up her stupidity and turned her self-scorn towards him instead. ‘That’s all irrelevant anyway. What’s really the issue here is how pathetically horn dog you are. You get a look at a woman in her bikini and you’re suddenly hot for her? When you’ve never so much as looked at her in the last decade?’

  Amusement still burned in his eyes. ‘You were a child a decade ago.’

  ‘It’s still pathetic.’ And frankly, insu
lting.

  ‘Maybe that prom night isn’t so irrelevant at all.’ His smile widened. ‘Did you have a crush on me back in high school? Your best friend’s older brother?’

  She gaped.

  ‘Because,’ he leaned closer and drawled outrageously, ‘you wouldn’t have been the only one.’

  Hell, the guy had an ego. Unfortunately what he’d said was true. There were several girls who’d done the faux-friendship thing to Lauren just to get close to her brother. Mya shook her head and denied him anyway. ‘Girls that age are at the mercy of hormones just as boys are and they fixate on the nearest object. Their fixating on you was probably more a matter of locality than your attractiveness.’

  He grinned wolfishly. ‘So if it wasn’t me your hormones fixed on, then who?’

  ‘I didn’t have the time.’

  ‘Everybody has the time.’ He moved closer as his voice dropped to an intimate whisper. ‘Who did you used to dream of?’

  ‘No one.’

  ‘So rebellious on the outside, such a square inside.’ He shook his head.

  Mya gritted her teeth.

  ‘No wonder you erupted with one touch—you’ve been repressed too long.’

  Mya couldn’t answer because that was actually true. She’d been without too long; that was the reason she’d inhaled his touch like an attention-starved animal.

  ‘Did you wish I’d said yes to Lauren and taken you to the ball? Is that why you’re trying to cut me down now? Did I burst your love-struck teen bubble?’

  He was so close to the mark it was mortifying. But she’d never, ever admit it. ‘I’m sure you’ve burst many poor girls’ bubbles, but you never burst mine.’ Mya willed a languid tone. ‘Fact is I’ve always seen through your charm to what you really are.’

  ‘And what am I?’

  ‘Selfish, spoilt, arrogant. Insufferable.’

  ‘Is that all?’ He paused a moment. ‘You don’t want to add some more about how unattractive you find me?’

  Very funny. ‘You’re so up yourself it’s unbelievable.’

  ‘But you still want me.’ He breathed out and then laughed. ‘You’re never going to be able to deny it. Not when you kissed me like that.’

  ‘You were the one who kissed me.’ Cross, she licked her extremely dry lips.

  ‘It started that way but within two seconds you were clawing my shirt off.’

  ‘I was trying to push you away.’

  The rogue laughed harder. Mya pulled her hand free of his grip and strode back through to the bar. She got behind it and found he was right there in front of her, waiting to be served—and still annoyingly amused.

  ‘You have to go now,’ she told him firmly, determined not to let that smile affect her. ‘I have work to do.’ She pulled out a chopping board, some lemons and a knife to prove it.

  ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I need you more than ever now.’

  Yeah, right. He’d never needed her before. And while she didn’t want to think he’d kissed her on a whim, the fact was he had. He’d never wanted to kiss her before, remember? The guy who had his pick of every woman in every room in the world hadn’t noticed her until she was hardly dressed. It really didn’t do much for her ego. And even less for his character. It showed he was simply attracted to the lowest common denominator—bared flesh.

  He shook his head in mock despair. ‘You suspect my motivation.’

  ‘Your reputation does precede you.’ She maintained her cool. ‘And all you’ve said and done so far tonight merely confirms the worst.’

  ‘Actually, Mya, I really do need you.’ His expression went serious. ‘I’m not just going to hire out the bar. I’m going to hire you.’

  CHAPTER THREE

  ‘I’M NOT interested.’ Mya was telling herself that over and over but her body wasn’t listening. Her pulse still pounded, her ears still attuned to every nuance in his words. But her ego was piqued. He’d kissed her only after seeing her breasts in a skimpy bikini—and now he wanted to hire her? For what exactly?

  ‘Sure you are.’ He winked. ‘I have to have a party now and you’re the perfect person to organise it for poor helpless me.’

  She shook her head. ‘Poor and helpless are the antithesis of what you are. You don’t need anyone, let alone me.’

  He grinned, obviously appreciating the unvarnished truth, but behind the smiling eyes she sensed his brain was whizzing. Yeah, the guy was wickedly calculating. And far too together already after the kiss that had shattered her. She needed to keep her guard well up.

  ‘Lauren’s finished her degree,’ he said.

  Momentarily thrown by the change in topic, Mya blinked. Then she nodded, but said nothing. If she hadn’t been such an idiot, she’d have been a lot nearer to finishing her degree too.

  ‘For a while there it didn’t seem likely she’d even finish high school let alone a university degree,’ he added.

  He was right. When Mya had started at that school, Lauren’s wild streak had been on the verge of going septic and that hadn’t been in the perfect Davenport family plan at all. They were all graduates with successful careers—and expected Lauren to achieve the same. Whereas Mya was the only one in her family to have finished school. She was supposed to be the first in the family to finish a degree too. Honours no less, having won a prestigious scholarship. Except she’d screwed it up, and now she doubted that she’d ever deserved it. But she’d finish her degree all on her own account—independence was now everything to her. This time she was taking the lead from Lauren. So she nodded. ‘She defied everyone’s expectations and did it. Brilliantly too.’

  There was a pause and she couldn’t help glancing at him. And then they both laughed at that one unbelievable aspect of Lauren’s success.

  ‘It’s more than a little ironic, don’t you think?’ he said, his face lightening completely. ‘That she almost dropped out and now she’s going to be a teacher?’

  ‘She’ll be a dragon too, I bet.’ Mya bit her lip but couldn’t quite hold back the chuckle. ‘Super-strict. She won’t put up with any illegal nail polish.’ Back in the day, Mya and Lauren had broken more than the nail-polish rules. Their favourite look had been purple splatter.

  ‘So we’ll have the party for her. It’s as good an excuse as any,’ Brad said confidently. ‘Exam results are out. It’s not long until Christmas. Many of her friends are going overseas and won’t be back for her graduation ceremony next year. She’s worked hard for a long while.’ He faced her square on again. ‘So we’ll surprise her.’

  ‘You’re going to have it as a surprise?’ Mya asked. ‘You want me to distract her?’ She’d be happy to sneak Lauren out and be there for the big surprise moment.

  But he was shaking his head. ‘I want you to organise it.’

  Mya’s enthusiasm burst like a kid’s balloon encountering the prick of a needle. Of course he did. He had to have this party but she’d be the one copping all the extra work to get it ready? Her ego suffered another blow—and more importantly she just didn’t have the time to do it. ‘Isn’t partying your area of expertise?’

  ‘Darling, I’ve never planned a party. I am the party.’ He mimicked her emphasis.

  ‘Oh, please.’

  ‘Who better to arrange it than my sister’s best friend? I said I’ll hire you. You’ll be paid.’

  She bridled. ‘I’m not taking money from you. I’m her friend.’ The thought of him paying for her services irked her. She’d always put in an honest day’s work but the thought of Brad owning her time spiked her hackles.

  ‘I’ll get in a planner instead.’ He shrugged.

  Now she was even more ticked. He was too used to getting everything his own way. ‘You think you can just throw some money on the table and have some flash event happen? Lauren wouldn’t want some impersonal, chic party put together by cutesy PR girls she doesn’t even know.’ Mya shook her head. ‘Wouldn’t it mean more to her if you put in some personal effort? She doesn’t like cookie-cutter perfection.’ Lau
ren had had so many things bought for her—by impersonal secretaries. She liked the individual—that was part of what had drawn her and Mya so close.

  He looked sceptical. ‘You think I should choose the colour scheme and the canapés?’

  ‘Why not?’ she asked blandly.

  ‘You’re not tempted by an unlimited budget and licence to do anything? Most women would love that, right?’

  ‘I’m not like most women. Nor is Lauren. You should organise it—it’s your idea.’ She sent him a cutting glance. ‘Or are you too selfish to spend time on her?’

  He laughed. ‘Sweetheart, every human on this planet is selfish,’ he said. ‘We all do what’s ultimately best for ourselves. I am doing this for very selfish reasons and not many of them to do with Lauren herself. It’s mainly so I don’t have to deal with my mother’s hand-wringing and a frozen dinner out with my parents to celebrate Lauren’s graduation. And so you don’t get in trouble with your boss and take it out on me. Does that make me a bad person?’

  Heat ricocheted round her body like a jet of boiling oil as she saw the intense look in his eye. He didn’t want her to think badly of him? And he was doing this to prevent her from getting in trouble. ‘No,’ she conceded.

  ‘You have to help me,’ he said softly.

  That was one step too far. ‘We wouldn’t be in this position if you hadn’t kissed me.’ She tried to argue back but felt herself slipping. ‘You created this problem. You don’t need me.’

  ‘Do I have the names and numbers of half her friends? No. I don’t know all her university mates the way you do. Of course I need your help.’

  Silent, she looked at him.

  ‘I’m thinking of Lauren. Are you?’ he jeered.

  She sighed. ‘For Lauren’s sake, I’ll help. But you’re not paying me.’

  ‘What a good friend you are,’ he teased.

  ‘I am, actually,’ she declared.

  ‘We all do what is best for ourselves,’ he murmured with a shake of his head. ‘Wasn’t insisting I be actively involved in the planning really because you wanted to spend more time with me?’

 

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