by Nicola Marsh
Wishing she could tighten the sash around her waist without upending her cuppa, she sidled towards an armchair near the open fire, as far away from the next closest chair as possible.
‘Couldn’t sleep?’
‘Yeah, going over the plans for the next week in my head.’
He smiled and her heart squirmed. ‘Another workaholic by the sounds of it.’
She glanced at her watch and raised an eyebrow. ‘You should know. Do you usually work this late?’
Circumspection settled over his face. ‘Depends.’
‘On?’
‘Whether I need to be distracted from other things.’
The smart thing to do would be sip her chamomile tea and not ask what he needed to be distracted from. But she didn’t like the awkward silence stretching taut between them and the longer it continued the more likely she was to blurt something inappropriate.
Taking another fortifying sip of tea, she lowered the mug. ‘So what’s distracting you?’
The corners of his mouth curved and her heart gave another treacherous twang.
‘You really need to ask?’
‘Wouldn’t have asked if I wasn’t interested.’
Pretending to think for a moment, he suddenly snapped his fingers. ‘Usually it’s an upcoming event or an entertainer that’s gone AWOL or a host of unforeseen problems that distracts me from getting on with my job.’
He paused, the intensity behind his stare leaving her in little doubt what he’d say next.
‘This time, it’s something else entirely.’
He reached out and captured her hand.
‘And I’m looking straight at her.’
Heat streaked through her body at his simple touch and when he caressed the back of her hand with his thumb she almost upended the mug of tea sloshing in her other.
Thankfully, he took the mug out of her hands but her relief was short-lived when he sat on the coffee table between their chairs and caught hold of the other one.
‘I don’t have time for games, Lola. When I want something, I go after it.’
A slow flush crept into her cheeks and she wished she could press her hands against them to cool it.
‘So I’m the flavour of the week? It’ll pass once I’m out of here.’
She had him.
What could he say? For the truth was a guy like Chase would only be interested in her for the short term before moving onto the next woman who snagged his attention. His horror at Cari’s engagement joke was testament to that.
Sure, he seemed a tad smitten now but that would wear off once the uniqueness of their situation did.
She could see him struggling for the right words, the conflict in his eyes: tell her the truth or sweet talk her further.
‘Tell me, Chase. Once this fascination you profess to have for me wears off, what do you see us being? Friends?’
‘Friends is good.’
He grasped at the lifeline she’d thrown him so quickly her head spun.
‘But for now I’d rather be more.’
‘Are you saying—’
‘You’re killing me, Lola.’
His eyes drifted to her satin robe, lingering on her cleavage before sweeping up, his heated gaze clashing with her wary one.
‘I don’t want to sit here and analyse what we are or will be. I don’t want to waste our time together.’
He released her hands, his fingertips skating slowly up her arms beneath the satin sleeves, creating havoc with her nerve-endings and her pulse alike.
‘I don’t want to look back on this week and regret not being upfront about what I want.’ He reached her shoulders and gently tugged her forward. ‘Can you say the same?’
She couldn’t say anything as he drew her towards him, giving her ample opportunity to pull back or say something to put an end to this constant flirtatious merry-go-round they seemed to be spinning on.
Instead, she swallowed every shallow protest and leaned into the inevitable kiss, their lips brushing once, twice, teasing and fleeting, a prelude to what promised to be another cataclysmic kiss.
Her body strained towards him, wanting this with every crazy cell. But then what? She tiptoed around him for the next week, her mind distracted and her body wanting more?
Not good business sense and the thought of what botching this week could potentially mean for Go Retro was enough of a dampener.
She allowed herself the luxury of touching his face, her fingers skimming the stubble along his jaw, drifting upwards to caress his cheekbones, her lips skating across his one last time before she eased away.
‘Tell me what you want, Lola.’
I want you screamed through her head, the truth busting to get out.
But she’d spent a lifetime hiding the truth from those closest to her—why change now?
‘I want to do a good job this week and taking this flirtation too far is guaranteed to distract me from that.’
Pushing his hands away, she stood, prepared to make another run for it if needed.
‘I can’t afford to mix business with pleasure. I’m sorry.’
‘Not half as sorry as I am,’ he murmured, reaching out for her again but she side-stepped and, with a last fleeting glance of regret, she fled.
CHAPTER NINE
LOLA didn’t have time to second guess her decision to keep things strictly professional between her and Chase, for the next morning bedlam descended in the form of the four Bs.
She’d initially thought Cari was having her on with her friends’ names—Bron, Bryony, Babs and Binnie—but the moment the four poured out of a sleek, low slung convertible, looking like models in a luxury sports car commercial, she knew Cari had been telling the truth.
These four, from the tips of their French manicures to the ends of their pedicured pinkies, were beautiful, bouncy and beyond blonde.
‘Oh-oh. Trouble, incoming,’ Chase muttered, standing next to her on the front step, watching the girls surround Cari in a flurry of hugs, squeals and laughter.
Surprised at his reserved tone, she said, ‘You don’t like Cari’s friends?’
He shrugged. ‘Not my type.’
‘Why’s that?’ The question flew from her lips before she could stop it and she mentally kicked herself for giving away the fact she cared about his answer.
‘They’re high-maintenance. Women who need to be loved by every man in the room, women who crave attention more than their next shoe fix, women who think the way to a man’s heart is through his wallet.’
With a smug grin, he added, ‘I prefer my women self-sufficient, warm, enticing, who know the way to a man’s heart is through a decent Beef Stroganoff.’
He sent her a pointed glance and she quickly averted her gaze, a blush sweeping her cheeks, wondering why a guy like him would be seriously interested in her when he could take his pick of any of the stunning women making a beeline straight for him.
‘Chase! Oh, my, you get more gorgeous every time I see you!’
The first blonde zeroed in on Chase, closely followed by her friends and Lola sidled a foot away as the four launched themselves at him, as he handled an armful of beautiful blondes like any male would: with a wide grin.
‘And you must be Lola.’
The tallest blonde stuck out her hand. ‘I’m Bron. Wow, this week is going to be the best!’
‘It should be fun,’ she said, trying not to feel intimidated by all their tall perfection as each girl introduced herself.
They seemed nice enough but she could tell by their forced polite small talk and quick dismissive glances they weren’t interested in her, their attention quickly snagged by one very handsome, very dashing guy discussing something with Cari as he furiously tapped away at his smartphone before answering a call.
‘What are you two hatching over there?’
Bron looped an arm through Cari’s, who glared pointedly at Chase before turning back to her friends.
‘Nothing for you to worry about, Bron.’
> Cari sent her a wink she had no chance of interpreting, before clapping her hands. ‘Come on, girls. I’ll show you to your rooms, then it’s bubbly time.’
Lola inwardly grimaced. The last thing this effervescent lot needed was champagne.
As the girls followed Cari inside, Chase approached and she glanced at her watch, making a grand show of the fact she had work to do.
‘I’ve got strict orders from Cari.’
Subduing an instant flare of panic that what she’d planned wouldn’t be good enough for the bride-to-be’s city chic friends, Lola winced. ‘To start the party early?’
‘To get you out of here.’
‘What?’
‘You heard me.’
He captured her hand and tugged her towards his car. ‘Hen’s orders.’
She stopped dead and tugged her hand to little avail. ‘But…what…wait…I can’t leave. The girls just arrived. I have to set up for the first session. There’s a ton to do and—’
‘Cari said the girls will take a few hours at least to catch up properly and ordered me to get you away for a while before the real chaos starts.’
Frowning, she mentally searched for more rational arguments and came up empty. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, I’m being paid to handle that chaos.’
He squeezed her hand and her resistance melted a little more. ‘Your job is to keep the hen happy and this is what Cari wants.’
Narrowing her eyes, she tried one last ploy. ‘You know she’s trying to matchmake? If you give in to her she’ll have us up the aisle alongside her.’
There, that should send him running. It’d certainly worked last night, Cari’s broad hints at matrimony effectively shutting him down.
Today, however, was another day.
‘Let her have her fun. After our little discussion last night I’m under no illusions where I stand with you.’
Ouch. When put like that, he made her sound so callous, as if she’d rejected him and it still smarted. Then he smiled, a wicked grin that made her want to whack him.
‘But hey, just so you know, I’m always up for a challenge.’
With a resigned huff, she tugged her hand free and marched towards the car before belatedly realising she didn’t have her handbag with her.
‘Just give me a minute to grab my bag.’
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’
He clamped an arm around her waist, effectively pinning her between his rock-hard body and the cool metal of his Jag.
‘You go back in there and I doubt you’ll come back out so hop in. You don’t need a bag where we’re going anyway.’
She started to struggle, saw the instant flare of desire in his eyes, felt the heat flood her body and she stilled.
If he saw her verbal refusal as a challenge, what would he think of her body squirming against his in her attempt to escape?
His mouth kicked up again and she had her answer. He’d definitely take it as an invitation and, giving him a shove, she managed to push him away and open the door at the same time.
‘That’s my girl,’ he said, his mocking laughter making her yank the seat belt extra hard and jam it home.
Curiosity ate at her but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of asking where he was taking her. Folding her arms, she stared resolutely out of the passenger window as he cruised down the driveway and out onto the highway.
‘Seeing as you’re not in a talkative mood, what would you like to listen to?’
‘Whatever, you choose,’ she said, embarrassed by her petulance. But being holed up in his car, his citrus aftershave blending with the heady scent of new leather, set her on edge.
She may have set the record straight last night but she now saw it for the futile exercise it was.
A guy like Chase wouldn’t take no for an answer.
He would see it as a challenge, would pull out every trick in the book to woo her and for some strange reason his sister seemed to be in on the plan.
‘You’re not really mad at me, are you?’
His softly cajoling voice rippled over her and she stiffened, not wanting to give in too easily.
Not wanting to give in at all, damn it, but holding out against this man was like holding back a swarm of shoppers at the Boxing Day sales with a rope barrier—ineffectual at best.
Because she wasn’t really mad at him, she was mad at herself for wanting to give in to him so badly.
Ignoring his question, she said, ‘How long are you kidnapping me for?’
‘A few hours.’
Glancing over his shoulder, he indicated and pulled onto a small lane just out of town.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll have you back in plenty of time to keep the chooks busy.’
Unable to stay mad for long, she chuckled. ‘Those girls are so far removed from being chooks it’s not funny.’
‘They like to think they are, getting all dolled up like that, but get them together in a group and they’ll cackle till the sun comes up.’
And probably peck anyone who encroached on their territory. Strangely, that was how she’d felt for a moment or two when the girls had first descended on them—as if she was being sized up and found lacking for deigning to stand near Chase.
‘Have you ever dated any of them?’
‘Hell, no!’
His vehement response made her feel better than she should.
‘Really? I would’ve thought successful, beautiful, bubbly women were your thing.’
He cast her a quizzical glance and she pretended to study the sound system.
‘They’re also demanding, narcissistic and totally headache-inducing. I like my women a lot less complicated.’
Great, so was he calling her simple?
The car slowed but for the life of her she couldn’t make out anything of note in the surrounding bush.
‘Not to mention they’re Cari’s friends and that’s a definite no-go zone in the guys’ handbook for appropriate dating.’
Ah…the real reason why he hadn’t gone near any of the bombshell blonde foursome.
‘As of yesterday, I’m Cari’s friend too.’
Pulling over, he killed the engine and turned to face her, his expression surprisingly serious.
‘That may be so, but I found you first.’
That shut her up and before she could come up with a suitable response, he said, ‘Come on. Let’s go kill a few hours.’
‘But there’s nothing here.’
‘Yeah, there is.’
To her joy he opened her door for her, the second time he’d done it. The first had been when he’d taken her to that loft party but she’d been too dazed to really take notice of much but now his old-school display of manners thrilled her. If she had her way, chivalrous guys would make a comeback alongside daily gloves and hats.
‘How do you feel about heights?’
‘I’m not acrophobic if that’s what you’re asking.’ She glanced around, noting they weren’t on anything remotely resembling a mountain. ‘Why? You planning on hang-gliding off this hillock?’
‘No, I’m planning on taking you up in that.’
They rounded the trees and Lola’s breath whooshed out in a rush as she caught sight of a huge hot air balloon.
‘No way—’
‘Come on, the pilot’s waiting for us.’
Her look told him she didn’t think the correct term for a hot-air balloon driver was pilot but she was too stunned to quibble.
‘This is too…too…’
‘Fun?’ he helpfully supplied with a proud grin and she shook her head as they approached the monstrous basket.
‘Too much,’ she said, hanging back as he greeted the pilot like a long lost friend.
And it was too much. This reeked of a romantic date, something that took elaborate planning, a special event planned as a surprise by a caring boyfriend.
Confused and bamboozled and more than a tad excited she waited until he’d sorted out take-off plans with the pilot before asking, ‘How did you
do this?’
He slid his phone out of his pocket and brandished it. ‘With this contraption you seem to hate so much. Bet you’re glad you didn’t confiscate it for ever now.’
‘But when…?’
Of course, when she’d seen Cari and Chase deep in conversation while she’d been doing the round of introductions with the other girls, he’d been fiddling with his phone.
‘You organised all this with that?’ She swept her arm wide, encompassing the stunning view, before wrinkling her nose at the phone.
‘You bet. You should try it some time. Move into the twenty-first century.’
‘That’s not the focus of my business.’
His gaze roved over her, taking in her navy broderie anglaise knee-length flared skirt cinched by a wide belt with an enamel bow, red and white striped sailor’s top and flesh tone fishnets. She loved this French pirate look, wore it to feel jaunty and cheeky, two qualities she’d had a feeling she’d need today to deal with Cari’s friends.
‘Got to admit, there’s something to be said for old stuff because you always look sensational.’
He probably paid compliments to women every day but having him appreciate the clothes she loved so much made her warm and gooey inside.
‘You people ready for take-off?’
Chase nodded at the old guy fiddling with some ropes she hoped were sturdier than they looked.
He winked. ‘See? Told you he was a pilot.’
‘Keep up that smugness and I might just toss you over the side up there.’
She pointed to the cloudless sky, thankful for the lack of cumulus. While she didn’t have acrophobia, going up in that basket was still a little hair-raising.
‘You wouldn’t do that.’
He captured her hand, ran his thumb over the back of it and she melted all the more inside.
She shouldn’t be doing this, going on a romantic balloon ride, playing along with his flirting, letting him hold her hand. It reeked of romance and she was heading for a fall if she let herself believe any of this was real.
Yet as Chase helped her into the basket, popped a bottle of champagne on standby in a chiller and handed her a filled flute as the balloon slowly drifted upwards, she couldn’t help but lose herself in the moment and wish it was.
