Turn Me On (2 page)

Quite possibly. She only wished that night could fade into oblivion for
her, too. Not because it hadn’t been amazing. Wow, had it ever. But because
every time she allowed herself to remember it, she felt so bloody ashamed of
what she’d done.

When she’d arrived and seen the groom, she’d nearly collapsed on the
spot. The last thing she wanted was to cause any embarrassment at the man’s
wedding. Panicked, she’d given Tom the old boyfriend story and could have
kissed him when he told her to stay in the background. He’d allowed her to
shuffle guests into the appropriate spot and generally organize while remaining
incognito.

But then the best man had shown up…

Lissa dropped back against the tree she was currently sheltering behind,
her face burning with mortification. Via the introductions, she’d learned his
name was Marco.

Ethan
and
Marco
.
The groom and the best man. What were the chances?

Damn and blast it. The one entirely reckless moment of her life had come
back to bite her on the ass. As if that wasn’t enough, she had now gotten
herself all hot and bothered by the groom’s cousin.

Slut
.

“Oh, piss off.” This time there wasn’t much conviction in her reprimand,
because she feared, really feared, the scolding of her conscience might be
warranted.

Except it was perfectly natural for a woman in her mid-twenties to want
sex, wasn’t it? She was normal, healthy, and it wasn’t as if she went around
thinking about sex every damn minute of every damn day. She had other things to
worry about. A life to get back on track, debts to pay, a house that was about
to be repossessed.

She closed her eyes as she thought about
that
night again. She’d wanted to lose herself, put all her
troubles on hold for one lust-filled, debauched night of incredible sex. Where
was the harm in that?
 
Nothing to be
ashamed of. Nothing to reproach herself for.

“Nothing whatsoever,” Lissa mumbled. “It was a perfectly normal
response.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Lissa swung around at the familiar voice and found blue eyes leaning
against the tree with his arms folded and feet crossed at the ankles. His
smoldering grin as he watched her made her knees weaken, and as she stepped to
the side, determined to get away from him, she walked into a branch and felt a
sharp stinging sensation across her chest.

She froze, looked down, and saw what she already knew from the sound it
had made. The interaction with the branch had ripped her silk blouse and left a
gaping tear from the center of her chest right across the top of her breast to
her left armpit.

“Damn.” Lissa instinctively slapped her palm across the exposed flesh.
She glared up at him. “Look what you’ve done.”

He shrugged, still leaning against the tree. “Not sure how, seeing as I
haven’t moved.” His eyes gleamed as his gaze dropped to her hand. “I’d say
you’ve gotten yourself in a spot of bother there, princess.”

“Stop calling me princess,” Lissa said from between clenched teeth. With
her free hand she dug into her shoulder bag and searched for something to clip
the material together, cursing the fact that only the other day she’d had a
de-clutter fest and had emptied her bag of all inessentials gathered over the
months.

Damn and blast. Where was an idiot safety pin when she needed one?

“Can I help?” blue eyes asked conversationally. He nodded his head,
indicating her hand covering the tear. “Maybe I could hold that for you, while
you continue your search.”

Lissa spared a moment to glare up at him, narrowing her eyes so that he
could be in no doubt what her response would be had she been willing to
verbalize one.

When it became apparent that her bag search would yield no remedy for
her predicament, Lissa glared up at him again. “Well, this is just great, isn’t
it?” She tried to adjust the ripped material to save her modesty, but only
succeeded in tearing it further.

He pushed away from the tree and moved toward her. “If you just try—”

“Don’t touch me,” she hissed as he reached out. “What do you think
you’re doing?”

He raised his eyebrows in a leisurely manner, as if the whole thing was
one long amusement for his benefit. “Trying to help?”

“Well, go away. I don’t need your kind of help.”

“And what kind of help is that?”

“For a start you could stop leering at me, making snide suggestions.”

“I haven’t made any suggestions yet, but I’ll admit to the leering.” His
gaze traveled slowly to the hand that covered her torn blouse before moving
back to meet her eyes. “You’re pretty pleasing on the eye.”

Because his gaze dropped again, Lissa huffed. “It’s weird how men are
reduced to slobbering idiots when they get a flash of boob.”

“While I’d hardly consider myself a slobbering idiot, I can’t say I
didn’t enjoy the peep show.” He grinned. “Even if it was more white lace than
flesh.”

Lissa felt her cheeks heat…along with other more intimate parts of her
body. There was something about the glint in his eye, the sexy grin that seemed
to take forever to get where it was going.

She eased her head around the tree and saw Tom busy with the large
family group. “You’re missing the photos. If you hurry you can squeeze on the
end of the group.”

“I’ve already done my duty,” he said flatly. “I’m sure Ethan won’t mourn
the loss of my presence. Are you trying to get rid of me?”

“I’m trying to do my job.” She looked up at him. “If you’re hanging
around on the off chance you’ll get another flash, don’t waste your time.”

“I’m hanging around on the off chance I can help—” He gave another
glance at her torn blouse “—with your predicament.”

“Yeah. Right.”

His mouth quirked, sending her annoyance levels up into the
stratosphere. What really annoyed her was that he’d somehow gotten the upper
hand. First because he’d guessed correctly that she’d been trying to remain
inconspicuous while the photographs were taken, and now because of the accident
with her blouse and his snide innuendoes.

Time to even the scales.

“Okay. If you want to help, give me your shirt.”

He raised those straight dark eyebrows. “You expect me to attend the
rest of the wedding bare-chested? It would hardly go unnoticed.”

“I imagine the female guests can restrain themselves for a few hours.”
She waggled the fingers of her free hand at him. “Likely they’ve seen bare
chests before.” But nothing, she imagined, like the wide expanse of his. Before
she could stop herself, she enjoyed a flight of fancy wondering if that wide
chest was lightly sprinkled with silky dark hair. It would be muscled, no doubt
of that. Solid, hard muscle that trembled beneath the right woman’s touch…

Damn.

As she dragged herself back from loony land, she noticed the direction
of his gaze. She could only be thankful that her hand covered one breast,
because the other was currently behaving disgracefully, or at least the nipple
was.

He slipped his hands in his pockets, eyes gleaming as they returned to
meet hers. “I was thinking more along the lines of helping you hold your shirt
together. Or maybe helping shield you from predatory gazes while we walk to your
car. Something like that.”

“The only predatory gaze I can see right now is yours.”

“Guilty. But then it’s hard not to notice when a woman responds so
readily.”

“You’re crass and arrogant.”

“Again. Guilty. But in my defence I lose all sense of gentlemanly
pretence when a woman’s nipples harden to the extent of hitting me in the eye.”

“It’s nothing to do with you, believe me. How would you feel if you’d
torn your trousers in the vicinity of your manhood? How would you react?
Shrivel up and die?”

“Depends on who’s looking at the time. In present company, I’d be more
likely to lengthen and expand.” He held her gaze. “Harden.”

Lissa felt her legs weaken, as if all the bone and muscle had
disappeared and all she was left with was a covering of skin. To disguise the
way her breath had tightened in her lungs, she huffed. “Like I said, crass and
arrogant.”

He shrugged. “We could debate that some more, or we could figure out a
way to save your modesty.”

And my job
, Lissa thought with some panic. Tom
had already given her leeway on this shoot. She couldn’t afford to display any
further incompetence. She glanced around the tree and saw he was still busy
with the family group. She knew she had a little time before he’d want to set
up the entire guest group shot.

“I’ve got a jacket in my car,” she said looking back at him. “So thanks
for your offer of help, but I don’t need it. Why don’t you run along now?”

“Can’t possibly leave you in your hour of need. Why don’t I walk you to
your car? That way I’ll be on hand if you need my body as a shield for your
modesty.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive the humiliation.”

She sauntered off, her bag half clutched across her chest to cover the
ripped fabric as best she could. Thankfully, she reached her car without any
incident and pulled on the linen jacket and buttoned it to cover the torn
blouse.

When she headed back toward the wedding party, her not-so-gallant knight
was nowhere to be seen. Good. She had about fifteen minutes or so of this
torture left, before the bridal party headed off for the reception at some
swanky hotel along the coast. Then she could relax again as she made for her
next booking at a children’s party in the opposite direction.

Goodbye to Ethan, goodbye to Marco…and goodbye to blue eyes with the
arrogant grin.

Chapter Two

“So hit me. What’s the damage?”

Staring out from the window of his harbourside office, Reed Fitzgerald
gripped his cell phone and waited for his friend’s response. Seeing as Jack was
also his lawyer and the reason for their current conversation was far from
pleasurable, Reed’s jaw tightened.

“Not good news,” Jack confirmed. “It holds up.”

“Shit.” Reed closed his eyes and cursed himself for his stupidity. Okay,
he might have been a horny twenty-year-old and piss-assed drunk at the time,
but stupid regardless. “Any loopholes?”

“None I can count on. We could try ignoring and see what happens, but as
we both know the nature of the beast, I wouldn’t hold out much hope the problem
will lay down and die.”

“Shit,” Reed said again as he opened his eyes and looked out at the
boats and yachts bobbing in
Brighton
’s busy
marina. “Money?”

“Don’t think that will work.” Jack huffed down the phone. “There’s
potentially more available if she holds you to it than if you try paying her
off. Cynthia’s the type of woman who’ll dig her five inch heels in if she
sniffs you’re desperate to be rid of her. There’s not enough pay off in the
world to stop her.”

At the intrusive buzz of his intercom, Reed turned from the window.
“Keep looking for an out, Jack. I’m not being steamrollered by a damn woman.
There has to be a get-out somewhere in this.”

As his friend signed off with the promise to keep searching, Reed walked
to his desk and pressed the button on the intercom.

The disembodied voice of his assistant echoed around his spacious
office. “Your eleven o’clock is here, Reed.”

 
“Thanks, Shaz.” In the time he’d
been on the phone to his friend, he’d almost forgotten his appointment and
wasn’t entirely sure he now wanted to follow things up with the hazel-eyed
photographer he’d met briefly at Ethan’s wedding. At least not when he had one
hell of a woman problem on his hands already. “Give me two minutes then show
her in.”

He’d planned to be seated on the leather sofa across his office to greet
Lissa Delaney, but after the phone call with Jack he was now so damn antsy he
stayed behind his large mahogany desk where he could pace if the mood required.

He was certain she wouldn’t have made the connection between him and the
owner of Triton Developments, who she’d come to see to discuss a potential
contract for her company. He could hardly imagine she would have come out of
hiding long enough to ask his identity from someone at the church.

But he’d discovered hers. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. Damn. It
had been a long time since he’d enjoyed such an intense physical attraction to
a woman. Even longer since he’d engaged in such stimulating verbal sparring.
Maybe it was perverse of him, but he liked that he’d had to work so hard. Loved
that she’d knocked him back, even as she’d enticed him to return for more.

Hell. The woman intrigued him.

God alone knew what had sent her skulking around at the wedding, but his
money was on the old lover theory. For sure, only the unwelcome prospect of
running into an old flame would have driven her to such measures.