Читать книгу Nice Girls Finish Last - Natalie Anderson - Страница 9

FASTER, faster, faster.

Lena knew exactly how to shortcut through the myriad corridors in the massive complex, so she scurried along them, got to her office, snatched her handbag and was in the ladies’ loo before she could gulp the breath her lungs were bursting for.

She gasped when she saw her reflection and thanked all the stars she’d got there without seeing anyone. Her lipstick was a mess, her hair mussed, her mouth huge. As for her eyes, her pupils were so massive and dark she looked as if she were on something. Which she was—lust, hormones, the highest of natural highs, and she’d wanted to ride the wave all the way to the top, not be dropped out halfway to heaven….

Oh, she’d been an idiot.

She scrubbed her hands but could still smell the baby oil. She held a bunch of tissues under the cold tap and pressed them to her lips. It didn’t cool them a fraction. She debated whether it was better to reapply lipstick or leave it. Went with reapplying. Not having any would look more unusual. She never went bare at work because she had an image to maintain. Polished, capable, professional. The kissy fullness would settle in a few moments, right?

Oh, so stupid, stupid, stupid.

She’d worked so hard to earn respect and a good reputation here and she’d just chucked it. For what?

The kiss of a lifetime. Definitely. But it wasn’t worth her job.

Despite her hammering heart and desperate urge to flee the place altogether, she had to go back and implement damage control—sooner rather than later. She swiped her comb through her hair to smooth it, closed her eyes and counted to ten. She’d fix up the last couple of shirts for the team, then deal with the five-car pile-up her life had just become. She fussed with the fabric, getting it perfect while questions spun so fast in her head it was worse than being on some g-force terror ride at a theme park.

Who and how and why was he there? It wasn’t the right time in the season for a new recruit and he’d been right about it being a restricted area … so who?

And what had she been thinking? It was his fault—right? He’d invaded her personal space and made boundary-crossing comments and started the whole explosive episode. He’d kissed her. She’d been the innocent party … sort of. But her heart knew the truth and her body just wanted more.

Seth had shrugged his jacket back up to his shoulders and walked forward as soon as he’d heard the door open. Breathless, his brain obliterated, he had been guided by pure instinct to protect her as best he could.

But in the few seconds it took for the door to bang shut again—with no one having walked through it—she’d gone. Faster than lightning, she’d streaked down the corridor. He didn’t chase her; in the split second he saw her turn a corner—she knew exactly the way out of there. He didn’t.

So what he had to do was find Dion. Because Dion would be able to tell him who the flamethrower was.

Wow.

He chuckled and wiped the back of his hand over his mouth, checking it. Yeah, a smear of the slick red she wore on her lips coloured his skin. He rubbed again to be sure he was clear, then ran his hands through his hair and exhaled hard, trying to release some of the tension.

As if that were ever going to happen. He was so wound and wired it was a wonder he could even walk. But walk he would—just as soon as some of the blood pumped back out of his pants and up north to his head. It took a few moments—hindered by the fact that all he could think of was that woman with the creamiest skin and the palest green eyes that were totally, totally feline. Given the smart-but-pretty dress and heels and make-up she had on, he guessed she worked here, probably PR, given her polished image. Less polished now he’d messed with her….

Yeah, none of these thoughts were helping him recover his control. He forced it, breathing out again and striding forward through the change-room door. ‘You in here, Dion?’

Seth stopped a few paces into the room and blinked at the sight. Dion was on the edge of a group of rugby players—all of whom were clad only in white towels, while a few more were posed in one corner of the room. In between the two groupings stood a photographer, camera in front of his face as he issued instructions and click, click, clicked.

‘Hey, Seth, glad you could make it.’ Dion had recently stepped in as CEO for the stadium. He was another property-development addict, and his new diversion was perfect timing as far as Seth was concerned—now for more than one reason.

‘Yeah, thanks.’ Seth smiled, exceptionally glad he’d come here today. ‘What’s going on?’

But Dion was staring at him with a curious expression. ‘What did you do to your jacket?’

Startled, Seth glanced down and saw streaks of some thing all over his lapels. He frowned, put his fingers to a spot and felt the slick dampness. Then he remembered—Green-Eyed Girl had grabbed his jacket as she’d snapped back at him. She’d held on to it tight. Now he knew why. She’d had some kind of slime on her hands and she’d wiped it all over him. The devious creature. He laughed, tickled and no less turned on. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’

He took it off—happy to—given he was still hotter than hot.

Dion still looked curious but Seth just jerked his head towards the team. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Last couple of shots for the annual calendar shoot.’

‘Really?’ Seth grinned at the poor bastards. Most stood with their arms folded across their gleaming bare chests. His eyes narrowed. ‘What have they put on you?’ he asked the nearest one.

‘Baby oil.’

A few started laughing again and smacking their chests like cavemen. ‘Oh, she got us good.’

‘I can still feel the sting of her palm,’ one complained, rubbing his hand up by his shoulder. ‘She’s a sadist.’ He rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘But it was worth it.’

‘Who got you good?’ Seth tried to ask casually.

‘Lena.’

Cue more smirks and body-slapping.

Lena. Oh, hell. Wasn’t Lena the name of the woman Dion had told him about? The woman who had the power to save him from next week’s nightmare so long as he could convince her to help him? The one he needed?

Hell, yes. Only, now he didn’t want her to agree to his last-minute project plan, he wanted her to say yes to something else altogether. Seth gritted his teeth as a surge of testosterone rippled through his muscles—all masculine hunger and sexual curiosity. His curiosity was so rabid he was unable to resist asking exactly what they’d been up to with the luscious Lena. ‘What did you do?’

‘Asked her to rub the oil on,’ one said with a shameless grin. ‘Thought she’d refuse all haughtylike, but she didn’t. She slapped it on all of us. And I mean slapped.’

The entire team erupted.

‘Perfect!’ the photographer shrieked, spinning, his finger holding down the shutter button as he caught them all. ‘Keep talking.’

‘You should have seen the look on her face.’

Oh, Seth had. ‘Did she laugh?’ He was still hearing that laugh; it had drawn him to her the way a magnet drew an iron filing. He’d been powerless to resist her pull.

‘Nah, you never see that, she always holds it together. Cooler than a chilly bin.’

Uh, Seth didn’t think so. He glanced down at the jacket in his hands, retrieved the few things he had in the pocket and dumped it in the rubbish. No getting oil stains out of that. He turned back, unable to resist asking more—to be sure it was her. ‘She wouldn’t be wearing a blue dress, would she? About this tall?’ He gestured just above his shoulder. ‘Dark hair, creamy skin, green eyes and curv—’

He broke off, recognising a little late that they’d all gone quiet and that he’d been about to get a little too detailed….

‘You noticed her,’ said Ty, who Seth knew was the captain.

‘I told you about her. Lena Kelly.’ Dion pointedly looked from Seth to the rubbish bin and back again. ‘PR and organisation and stuff.’

Yeah, definitely the one Dion had said Seth needed on board. She had the power to convince management to let him bring his boys here—the at-risk youth who needed not just a shot of discipline, but of inspiration, too. But Dion hadn’t told him she was such a scorcher.

And right now, wrong as it was, Seth had more of a fixation on that fact than he did on sorting the problem that had brought him here in the first place.

She definitely had a more valid reason than he did to be hanging out near the change rooms. What was more, she really had had her hands on all the boys. There was no smothering his chuckle.

The captain saw. ‘Don’t bother, mate, she’s not interested.’

Oh. Seth cleared his throat. ‘She’s taken?’ She’d better not be, or she shouldn’t have been kissing him so hot—not just hungry, but famished. Aggression surged, hardening. He hated infidelity.

‘No, but she refuses everyone. She almost flirts. You can see it in her eyes, but she never says what she’s thinking,’ Ty explained. ‘Wish she would.’

‘Got nice eyes,’ one of the forwards grunted.

Wicked eyes.

Seth relaxed. He wasn’t up for commitment and he wasn’t going to be party to cheating. But he was more than happy to play.

‘Got nice everything,’ some other player piped up. ‘But no one gets near. Totally untouchable.’

‘Right.’ Seth nodded, breathing deep to hide the outrageous victor’s pleasure coursing through him. He had to stop himself puffing his chest out like some damn cockerel—because Not-Interested-Lena had been more than a little interested in him.

‘You really do fancy her,’ Dion stated quietly.

The entire team stopped laughing and stared at Seth. Suddenly they didn’t look anywhere near as friendly—more like aggressive.

‘Uh, no.’ Testosterone resurged. He’d happily fight his corner, but he needed these guys onside if he was going to get them to help with the youth-aid project, so he went for deflection. ‘Only noticing what you’ve all noticed.’

And now he noticed how the atmosphere had turned from teasing to protective. Which meant they respected her. Which meant she was no tease. Which meant he might have to be careful. He more than fancied her and badly wanted a fling. He’d had a dry spell for all of a month or so and she’d be a much-needed distraction from the construction consent issues he had coming out of his ears. And okay, he was totally hot for her. From the answering heat in her kiss, he knew he could get her to say yes. So long as her no-dating policy wasn’t because she was holding out for a husband. Marriage wasn’t in his deck of cards.

‘She’ll knock you back,’ said Ty. ‘She doesn’t date anyone famous.’

But Seth wasn’t famous in the way these guys were famous. Ten minutes ago she hadn’t recognised him, nor had she knocked him back. In the right mood, Lena Kelly wasn’t untouchable at all.

Dion’s eyes had that delighted gleam that came on when he saw a building he wanted to acquire. ‘I reckon you’d have more luck than most.’ He turned to Ty. ‘Want to make a bet?’

‘No.’ Seth instantly stamped on that. This conversation had gone more than far enough already. ‘Never bet on a woman. Bad karma.’

Dion glanced, his laughter easy. ‘Quite right. And we’ve pushed it enough with Lena today. Imagine what she’d do if she heard us now?’

The entire team cracked up again. The photographer practically bounced with excitement as he snapped off shots.

Dion looked smug. Seth suspected the bet comment had been to provoke his reaction. Ruthless bastard. But Seth smirked, too—it took one to know one.

‘So this is going to be the calendar, huh?’ He knew his change of topic wasn’t going to fool Dion. The captain was watching him as well but he tried anyway. ‘You guys must just love this.’

‘Oh, sure.’

Some of the guys groaned.

‘Need you all back in the shot now,’ the photographer called.

As they lined up his thoughts derailed. The temperature of that kiss had been surreal—like being submerged into a spa after a day on the snow, bringing out goose bumps even though you were burning. Your body couldn’t decide if it was pleasurable or painful—just intense, hellish good. He was hurting for more of the supposedly untouchable Lena. The urge bit to the bone. He liked nothing more than a challenge and a chase. Used to success, he figured there was no reason why he couldn’t get her to agree to both propositions. All he had to do now was find her.

‘Coming through!’

Seth’s body recognised the slightly husky edge to the singsong voice before his brain did. Predatory instincts rose, focus sharpened. He had to turn slightly to the side to force himself to relax. This was a challenge, yes, but not one for public consumption. The guys were cheesing it up for the camera, but he sensed their attention snap to him the second they heard her, too. They wanted to see what was going to happen. Which meant that, right now, nothing was going to happen. Later on? Absolutely everything.

He tried to act nonchalant, but it would be abnormal not to look, so as the heel tapping neared he glanced over. She was hidden by a wall of shirts—holding them up high and out front like a curtain—but he recognised the dress. His body acted as if it had met its dream mate and he gripped hard on his bunching muscles.

‘Thanks, Lena,’ said Dion. ‘Hang them over there for us, will you? They’ll need to shower after this. Don’t want that oil over all the clothes.’

Seth knew Dion had just directed another speculative glance at the rubbish bin where his jacket was now in residence. But he wasn’t going to say a word.

‘Lena, this is Seth Walker,’ Dion added. ‘Seth, this is our ever efficient PR queen, Lena.’

Seth watched for a reaction as she heard his name. While he didn’t expect everyone in the country to know his face, his name was more out there. But she was terribly busy hanging those shirts—still hiding. When she finally turned, her expression was schooled into one hell of a poker face. No wonder the team called her untouchable. He thought she should definitely play some kind of … poker.

He stared blankly for a second before shaking the stripping fantasy free and focusing harder. She wasn’t looking up at him, so he couldn’t see if that gleam was there. Her lipstick was fixed but there was that extra fullness of her mouth. Frustrated desire flooded him and he cursed the presence of an entire rugby squad.

Seth Walker. Of course that was who he was. Lena didn’t need Wikipedia to know all about him. She should have recognised him earlier. She remembered his name from when he sold off some scheme for kazillions to a big corporate conglomerate and she should have recognised his face from the about-town sections of the paper and the women’s mags. The guy was the most wanted accessory of every beautiful socialite in the city scene. In fact the guy owned half the central city—was responsible for all those warehouse conversions into cool apartments and hip restaurants and clubs. He was so driven in his career he made these athletes look like Tuesday-night social-sport amateurs. His projects would always come before his private life.

That lost him a lot of points.

The demerit gave her enough chill to be able to look his way and manage an impersonal, professional smile. But she couldn’t quite meet his eyes and her heart hiccupped when she saw he wasn’t wearing his jacket any more. He must have figured what she’d done to it and got rid of it. She glanced round the room, saw the tip of a sleeve poking out of the corner bin.

Right. She glanced quickly back at him, trying not to melt at the smile and the brilliant blues—and did he just shake his head a fraction?

Yes, from the non-reaction of the guys in the room she knew he hadn’t said anything about what had happened in the corridor. They were unusually quiet right this second, but maybe the photographer had had a diva moment and told them all to behave, because she was certain Seth Walker hadn’t done a brag.

That fact earned him several points back. The way his shirtsleeves clung to his broad shoulders scored him more than a few bonus ticks, as well.

Unasked, her brain continued digging out info. Bachelor of the Decade was the headline that screamed at her. Bachelor for Life if his behaviour ten minutes ago was anything to go by. Without doubt he played the field. Any man who got that close and kissed random women the second he had the chance ought to be given a wide berth.

Ought to be.

But Lena wasn’t feeling as cautious as she should any more. No, she was giddily glad the sexy stranger wasn’t a new starter for the team. He had nothing to do with rugby. He and Dion had to be mates and she guessed he was here to check out the stadium—even the most successful business types got excited over an access-all-areas pass to the place. Her own excitement ratcheted up another notch. Technically Dion wasn’t her boss—he’d been asked to manage the stadium by the council, while she was employed by the rugby club. So as Seth was merely the friend of a business colleague there’d be no hint of ‘at work’ conflict. Her panic had been for nothing. And now the long-dormant hormones racing round her body filled her head with wonderfully wicked, over-the-top fantasies.

She tried to quell them with some common sense—the stuff she’d been at pains to develop in the last year or so. She’d been on ice for so long in the dating realm, a total playboy type probably wasn’t the sort she ought to warm up with. Then again, her inner imp whispered, he knew how to have fun. There was a reason he was so popular with women and it wasn’t his oversized bank balance. He knew how to kiss. It was obvious he knew how to do so much more than kiss….

Lena still wasn’t ready for a romantic relationship—too busy rebuilding her career and family’s respect. But surely there was no reason why she shouldn’t have a good time with someone who wanted only the same and no more?

She felt him watching her—felt that focus. The all-sensual, mesmerising, irresistible attentiveness. Couldn’t he be exactly the right guy to break her drought with? No complications, no confusion—it could stay that simple. She burned at the thought, her body so badly wanted to know his. But it was just a fantasy—she had no hope of pulling it off.

‘Seth, I’m going to be stuck here for a few more minutes,’ Dion said. ‘Lena will take you up to the offices and you can talk to her. Take the scenic route, Lena—he hasn’t been through this part of the stadium.’

Lena nipped the inside of her lip. Maybe Seth had said something. But she showed Dion’s guests round the stadium all the time. It was part of her job, not an extraordinary request. ‘Of course,’ she answered politely, desperately trying not to blush. She turned away from him and watched the team break up from the group-in-the-shower shot instead. ‘Not long to go now, guys.’

‘You better have the refreshments ready,’ one of them called out.

‘Isotonics only.’ She sent the group an apologetic smile. ‘They’re already in the fridge. Doc’s orders.’ She turned towards the door and, under the cover of their groans, looked at him. ‘Mr Walker?’

He followed, his voice low enough for the others not to hear. ‘Oh, no, please, call me Seth.’

Just hearing him speak sent heat frizzling from skin right through to bone. Her heart raced light-years ahead of her body as she walked out to the corridor.

That corridor.

She set a quick pace, fighting for composure as she stared fixedly at the concrete floor. Oh, she had to pull herself together because this was just embarrassing—had she time-warped into a teen experiencing her first stirrings of sexual desire?

‘As you can see we’ve just come through the players’ area.’ She started the tour spiel for safety’s sake. She could talk on auto—and keep talking until she could escape to her office. ‘Now we’re heading up to the corporate entertainment area. The boxes run the length of the stand.’

She started to get into the swing of it, telling him the details of the stadium, the history of the construction, the naming rights of the stands. But she was so on edge she gabbled it all too quickly. So she had to move on to player stories. And then player stats. Anything so she could keep babbling nonstop all the way to the executive space.

She was increasingly conscious of his height and his pantherlike smooth movement at her side. He was watching her too closely, not taking in the behind-the-scenes view of the stadium and the boys’ backgrounds at all. Her skin tingled, her nerves twanged.

‘Lena, I’m not interested in these stats,’ he interrupted with arrogant dismissiveness when they got to the top floor and her office was a safe step away.

She stopped midway through her recital of some lock’s weight issues. Slowly—trying to remain calm and collected—she looked directly at him. ‘Well, what did you want to know?’

‘Your stats. Every last detail.’

He took advantage of her stunned immobility and moved a step closer.

‘I’m not interested in men,’ he said wickedly. ‘But you clearly are, so how about you memorise my details, as well? I’m Seth. I sell buildings. I’m six feet two, Sagittarius, single, suffering no communicable diseases.’ He paused, the sparks in his eyes kindled. ‘Spellbound.’

And she was sweating. She, who’d been hit on by all those boys downstairs and never once blinked, was melting on the spot. Because this was different. This was … him and he took up all her vision.

‘You going to reciprocate?’ Merciless, he kept her attention his captive, waiting for her to answer.

She couldn’t say a thing, even though she really wanted to. But she’d breathlessly lost the snappy answer-back ability she’d had in the corridor.

‘Let me help you out,’ he offered with wicked charity. ‘You’re Lena. You’re slim, sporty, stylish. Single.’ He paused, apparently waiting for her to deny it.

She didn’t, so he continued ticking off points.

‘Sexy. Spontaneous.’ He paused again, considering. ‘A sensual sorceress.’

Okay, that was over-egging it. ‘While you’re too smooth, too suave, too successful.’

He moved closer. ‘You’re also suggestive, sassy, sarcastic. What else?’

A scatterbrain who was trying her damnedest not to squirm. ‘A little stunned.’ Hopelessly honest.

‘Me too,’ he purred smoothly. ‘But I also think we’re both stirred.’

It was impossible not to smile. ‘You don’t think you’re coming on too strong?’

‘Too strong?’ His volume lifted, so did his brows. ‘Honey, I’m reining in hard. I think you know what I’d rather be doing right now. I think you’d rather that, too. I’m just trying to dispense with the preliminaries as fast as possible.’

She didn’t just feel the heat in her face, belly and chest, but her fingertips, her knees, her toes—she was blushing everywhere. The man was outrageous—and what was more, he pulled the hitherto undiscovered outrageous thread running deep within her.

‘You know you owe me a jacket.’ He upped the intensity of his focus as if he knew damn well he had her already.

Her hormones sizzled into high gear and her tongue loosened completely. Her self-restraint unravelled with it. ‘Well, you owe me an apology.’

‘For kissing you?’ His chin lifted defiantly. ‘Never going to be sorry for that.’

Her innards flamed; fortunately her mouth kept working. ‘No, for your insulting insinuations before that.’

‘Oh, those,’ he said flippantly. ‘Sure, I’m sorry.’

Lena took in his devilish, gleaming blue eyes and his wolfish, unapologetic smile. So assured, so confident, so sexy. Intent rippled from him and sent a wild surge of insanity pulsing through her. It carried her so far away she didn’t stop to think. ‘No, that’s not good enough,’ she sassed back at him, tumbling beyond her boundaries. ‘You can do it properly over dinner.’

Seth froze to replay her words in his head. Had she just said what he thought? ‘Over dinner?’

‘I prefer a home-cooked meal.’

Seth clamped his teeth to stop his jaw dropping. The rest of his body was still shut down. Well, almost his entire body. Satisfaction slammed into every cell—the ‘untouchable’ had just ordered him to take her to dinner. At home.

For a moment she looked as if she couldn’t believe what she’d said, either, but she blinked and then held his gaze with unmistakable challenge in her pale green eyes. Her brows lifted—as if she was waiting for him to rise to it.

Hell, yes, he was rising. He struggled to get his slain brain to operate. It took at least three endless seconds before he got a useful phrase together. ‘When can you get out of here?’

The rosy pink across her cheekbones deepened. ‘You can pick me up from Exit Four at 6:00 p.m.’

‘Exit Four,’ he repeated blankly. Then it clicked—of the stadium, of course. ‘Right.’

He was so close now they were nearly touching. Powerless to resist, he breathed in a good look at her body again. Her curves beneath the elegant dress beckoned, his hands itched to undo the buttons. He noticed the slight shake of her fingers before she curled them into fists and when he looked back to her face he saw how her eyes had widened.

It wasn’t fear. He’d seen plenty of fear in his opponents. But in Lena he saw heat deepening, darkening her green irises. Primitive pleasure flooded as the tide of power turned towards him. He forgot why he was here. He forgot all about the boys and the disaster that had killed their programme for next week. All that mattered was tightening the knot on this tryst.

‘Any other requests—are you vegetarian or anything?’ he asked. Now he could feel her trembling all over, but she didn’t try to step back. He liked that about her.

Her chin lifted, despite the hitch in her breathing, as well. ‘I like … very fresh—’ she snuck a breath ‘—food.’

A wave of tension hit Seth, so extreme he was unable to do anything; even forcing a swallow hurt.

The woman wanted fresh.

He stared. There wasn’t a single freckle on her smooth skin, something totally rare in this sun-struck country. It made him think of succulent berries and rich cream and he wanted to taste every inch of what she might offer. He wanted her to offer it all.

Her light green eyes lanced through him—suggestive and serious and summoning. She’d snatched the lead. When she’d started chattering nonstop about the team and not looking him in the eye he’d thought he was going to have to hunt hard and he’d started to, but all of a sudden she’d turned the tables and caught him neat in a heartbeat. The chase was always a fun part of a fling but he was happy to skip it this time. She’d named the time and place and he’d be there.

All the same, he held her gaze deliberately too long—testing. The moment stretched until her mouth tightened and she swallowed. A half second later she was the one to break eye contact, lowering her lashes. Yeah, she wasn’t as filled with chutzpah as she made out. And, given her trembling and what those boys had said before about her always saying ‘no’, he knew this wasn’t her usual modus operandi, which made it even more intriguing. Yet, for whatever reason, she clearly wanted to feel in charge of their dealings. So he’d let her think she was—for now.

Anticipation thickened the silence. He watched the slight but rapid rise and fall of her chest, the pulse madly beating at the base of her neck, the deepening red of her flush. He could almost read the secret, wanton wishes being written in the air. He was so close to pushing her back onto that desk and finishing what they’d begun outside that damn change room.

‘You’d better get to Dion’s office.’ All husky, she turned her head away from him. ‘He’ll wonder where you are.’

The irony of it was he was here to see her. Hoping he could convince her to go in to bat for his boys. Only, Seth wasn’t about to ruin the prospect of a fascinating evening by bringing up business now. He couldn’t seem to care enough about it this minute, which was wrong when so many others were relying on him. But the embodiment of temptation before him was irresistible. He reversed the order of his plan—Lena, then the project.

He stepped back to let her be the boss. Reminded himself that breathing was necessary to life. Assured himself that very soon he’d touch her again.

‘6:00 p.m.,’ he confirmed before any feminine doubts surfaced and she tried to cancel. He could see her wavering, not looking at him. Sure enough she shivered, her body battling to contain conflicting emotions. Desire versus uncertainty. But he wasn’t going to let her withdraw. It was too late, the chemical reaction had begun and the explosion was inevitable.

He’d only taken a couple of steps out of sight of her doorway when he heard it. The laugh. The husky, nervous but naughty laugh. The desire to inhale that intoxicating mix almost overpowered him. It had drawn him to her in the corridor, had been echoing in his ears since. His fists clenched as he fought the impulse to turn back and tumble her to the floor. He was damn well going to have that laugh beneath him before nightfall.