Bad

  Wyatt Harrison is a geek and proud of it.

  The IT freelancer prefers delving into the mysteries of motherboards than women. Until he upgrades the computer systems at Vegas’s premier revue venue Burlesque Bombshells, where he’s confronted by the biggest mystery of them all, stunning choreographer Ashlin O’Meara.

  Ashlin prefers brawn to brains. She likes her men uncomplicated for a reason. But there’s something about Wyatt that she can’t resist.

  Unable to achieve satisfaction in the bedroom for years, he could be the guy to push all her right buttons.

  However, Wyatt’s no fool, and in agreeing to a short-term fling with the sexy geek, will her devastating secret of the past be revealed, resulting in the collapse of her carefully constructed life?

  BAD

  By

  Nicola Marsh

  Copyright © Nicola Marsh 2015

  Published by Nicola Marsh 2015

  All the characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They’re not distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author and all the incidents in the book are pure invention.

  All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in any form. The text or any part of the publication may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form without the written permission of the publisher.

  The author acknowledges the copyrighted or trademarked status and trademark owners of the word marks mentioned in this work of fiction.

  Discover other titles by USA TODAY bestselling & multi-award winning author Nicola Marsh at

  http://www.nicolamarsh.com

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Wyatt Harrison took one step into the room filled with beautiful people and wished he hadn't come.

  This so wasn't his scene.

  Upgrading IT systems at Burlesque Bombshells he could handle. Socializing with the gorgeous women who worked at the establishment, not so much.

  Though tonight wasn't about mingling with the dancers he wouldn't see again after this freelance contract finished.

  The only reason he'd shown up at this cocktail party was to meet Steele Harrison, his half-brother.

  Zane, the other Aussie half-sibling he'd known nothing about until a month ago, had said Steele would be here. So Wyatt had knocked back a few tequila shots to quell his anti-party phobia and rocked up.

  But he'd barely entered and spotted Zane when a woman bore down on him.

  Not just any woman. Ashlin O'Meara. Lead choreographer at Burlesque Bombshells. She’d haunted his dreams for weeks. His secret fantasy. Tall. Lithe. Long red hair. Big blue eyes. Full lips that made him hard just thinking about what they could do. And a soft lilting Irish accent that was sexy as hell.

  They’d met briefly while he’d been working in the CEO’s office last week. That encounter had been memorable for the simple fact he hadn’t been able to string a few words together before bolting. She’d probably been laughing about his gaucheness ever since, while he couldn’t forget the soft skin of her palm as it had lingered in his during their introductory handshake.

  "Glad you could make it," she said, her beauty even more astounding close up. "I was hoping you'd be here."

  "Why?" he blurted, his characteristic social awkwardness making him wish he could turn and run.

  He didn't understand females, not like metadata and motherboards. Women made him uneasy, a complex puzzle he had no hope of solving.

  Ashlin smiled and leaned in close. Close enough he could smell a seductive spicy fragrance that addled him as much as her nearness. “Because after that first time we met in Chantal’s office, I’ve wanted to get to know you better.”

  Wyatt stared at her like she’d lost her mind. Women didn’t come onto him. The only hook-ups he’d had were at IT conventions, with fellow female geeks who didn’t flirt. Women willing to come up to his room after a few drinks and a less than scintillating conversation that focused solely on computers. It suited him, the lack of emotional connection.

  Which begged the question, why was this striking woman coming onto him? Not that he didn’t like it. Hell, his gonads liked it just fine. But her proximity unnerved him. She unnerved him. And he felt inept enough in social situations without adding her to the mix.

  “You want to get to know me better?” He sounded incredulous, like she’d asked him to strip naked on the spot. “Trust me, there’s not much to tell.”

  “I beg to differ.” She touched his arm and Wyatt could’ve sworn he’d misconnected wires; the jolt was that powerful. Swift and sizzling and strong enough to fry his brain. “You’re an intelligent guy. I’m sure we could talk for hours.”

  If he had Ashlin alone for hours, talk would be the furthest thing from his mind.

  He shook his head, trying to clear it. Didn’t help. “You’re into geeks?” As if.

  “Maybe I’m into you,” she said, her fingertips gliding down his forearm, slow and sensual, stopping to tease his wrist with a tickle before she stepped back and shrugged, drawing his attention to her shoulders, where the strap of a shimmery tank top seemed in grave danger of slipping off. “And I’d like to pick your brain about a computer problem.”

  Disconcerted by the urge to snag that damn strap and tug it all the way down, he glowered, hoping she’d get the message to leave him alone. "I don't talk business after hours."

  Her lips curved into a coy smile that had him staring longer than polite. "Can't you make an exception this one time?"

  "No," he said, tearing his gaze away from her luscious mouth to search the room for Zane again.

  He needed an exit strategy. Pronto.

  "You're not very sociable." She tilted her head, studying him. "Or is it just me that makes you uncomfortable?"

  He bit back 'it's you'.

  "Parties aren't my thing," he said, spotting Zane, who had his back turned and was deep in conversation with a guy. Hopefully it was Steele, giving him the perfect out. "If you'll excuse me, I need to meet someone—"

  "Wait." She laid a hand on his arm and damned if his skin didn't prickle again. "Can we grab a coffee sometime?"

  The hint of vulnerability in her eyes startled him. "Why?"

  "Isn't it obvious?" She blinked, her bold blue gaze challenging him, and he wondered if he'd imagined the vulnerability a second ago.

  Obvious? Not to him. She'd have to hit him over the head with a sledgehammer for him to process that a woman as hot as her could be interested in a geek like him.

  "Enlighten me."

  Her fingers squeezed his forearm gently. "You’re interesting and different—"

  "Thanks, maybe some other time."

  Before he could second-guess his dumbass decision to dump the stunning redhead, who for some unfathomable reason wanted to get to know him, he managed a terse nod and eased his arm out of her grasp.

  The faster he made a beeline for Zane, the better.

  Ashlin stared at Wyatt, practically running through the crowd to get away from her, and grinned.

  Wasn't every day a guy tried to break the minute mile to escape her. Ratcheted up her curiosity about him even more.

  "Leave the poor guy alone." Chantal Kramer, her boss and friend, elbowed her in the ribs. "You're scaring him."

  "He's adorable," Ashlin said.

  Chantal's eyebrow
rose. "And not your type, so what gives?"

  Ashlin knew exactly why she'd targeted Wyatt but no way in hell would she tell Chantal. Her friend had an uncanny knack for seeing right through her and if Chantal guessed the truth…no one in her new life knew about her past and she had to keep it that way.

  Ashlin feigned a laugh. "I have a type?"

  "Hell yeah." Chantal flexed a bicep and struck a bodybuilder's pose. "You usually go for the brawny, brainless types."

  Again, Ashlin had her reasons. Reasons she'd be keeping to herself. "Perhaps I need a change of scenery?"

  "But Wyatt?" Chantal lowered her arms and beckoned her into a corner, away from the partygoers. "He's a good guy, Ash. And he's doing an amazing job updating my IT system." Chantal jabbed her in the arm. "Not to mention he's Zane's half-brother and the love of my life will kill me if you do anything to scare Wyatt off considering they're putting in some serious bonding time after meeting recently."

  "Love of my life? Listen to you." Ashlin pretended to stick two fingers down her throat and gag. "What happened to the confident, ballsy businesswoman who didn't have time to date because running Burlesque Bombshells was her life?"

  "Zane happened." Chantal sighed, her gaze drifting toward her Australian boyfriend on the opposite side of the room. "And I still can't believe it, to be honest."

  Zane glanced up at that moment and locked gazes with Chantal. Ashlin could've sworn electricity arced overhead between them.

  "Believe it. The guy's smitten." Ashlin hadn't meant to sound bitter. She was truly happy that her workaholic friend had found love. But her inner cynic couldn't be ignored. She'd thought she'd found love once. It had turned to shit. Along with her life as a result of the fallout.

  "The feeling's mutual," Chantal said, a blush reddening her cheeks. "Which is why you can't toy with Wyatt."

  "Who says I'm toying?"

  Chantal rolled her eyes. "Please. I haven't seen you in a relationship since you started working for me years ago. You date. Briefly. Then move on. That's if you date at all."

  "I've been in a deliberate drought." Ashlin shot Chantal a pointed look. "Same as you, pre-hot-Aussie-footballer, remember?"

  Chantal tapped her bottom lip. "I had my reasons. What's yours?"

  What could Ashlin say? That she'd rather relax at home after work than make meaningless small talk with a guy she wouldn't see more than once or twice? That dating himbos was easier because they didn't demand anything beyond a brief physical interlude? That investing in any guy for longer than two seconds equaled a guaranteed broken heart?

  She could've said all those things. Instead, she settled for, "I don't have time for a relationship."

  Chantal cupped her hands around her mouth, as if magnifying whatever she was going to say. "BS alert."

  "Ssh." Ashlin laughed and swatted her friend's hands. "When you introduced me to Wyatt in your office last week, I felt like we clicked."

  Chantal puffed out her cheeks then exhaled. "You did. Miranda and I both saw the sparks. Seemed like you two were alone in the room."

  Ashlin had felt it too, which is why she'd deliberately approached Wyatt tonight. She didn't trust sparks. Not anymore. So she'd figured if she tried her usual brash approach on the guy, it would get it out of her system.

  Sadly, talking to Wyatt, seeing how recalcitrant he was, piqued her interest. She may not be interested in anything beyond a fling but there was something about the surly guy that had her wanting to know more.

  "Maybe you could get the lowdown on him from Zane?"

  "No way." Chantal held up her hands and backed away a little. "I'm not getting involved in this…whatever it is you're doing."

  "It's called dating." Ashlin gestured at Zane. "You know, that thing you're doing with Lover Boy over there."

  Chantal's eyes widened. "You actually want to date Wyatt?"

  "Maybe…no…hell, damned if I know."

  But Ashlin did know. She didn't want to date Wyatt. She wanted a little one-on-one time so she could discover why he had her on edge.

  Guys never made an impression on her and certainly not beyond a week. The fact she’d cornered him tonight because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since they’d met meant something. And the fully intended to find out what that something was.

  "Just go easy on the guy, that's all I'm saying, okay?" Chantal leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. "You could do with a little romance, Ash, but don't go hurting my boyfriend's brother."

  "Like I would."

  Besides, she'd have to be emotionally invested to hurt Wyatt or be hurt herself, and she had no intention of getting that close.

  To any guy.

  Ever again.

  CHAPTER TWO

  As Wyatt approached Zane, his half-brother's goofy grin grew.

  "What are you smirking at?" Wyatt scowled, not in the mood for any shit, courtesy of Ashlin bamboozling him to the point he couldn’t think straight.

  "You." Zane slugged him on the arm. "Very entertaining, watching you crash and burn with Ashlin."

  "By choice, smartass."

  Zane's eyebrows rose. "You knocked her back?"

  "She's not my type." Wyatt expected a lightning bolt to strike him down any second for that monumental lie.

  Zane guffawed as he jostled him. "So you're a fibber as well as an idiot."

  "Quit it."

  Wyatt didn't need Zane reiterating what he already knew: he was a dumbass for not taking Ashlin up on her offer or at the very least, reciprocating her interest.

  Zane's grin faded, his expression turning somber, but he couldn't hide the mischief in his eyes. "You know dancers are extremely flexible, right? So it's probably a good thing you didn't hook up, what with you being a computer geek, you could've done yourself an injury—"

  "Shut up," Wyatt said, joining in Zane's chuckles. "Is Steele here?"

  Thankfully, Zane bought his change of subject. "Yeah, entered not long after you did, got waylaid by the yoga instructor."

  "You Aussie Harrisons don't waste any time, do you?"

  Zane squared his shoulders. "I'll have you know it took me a good month to get Chantal to realize she couldn't resist me."

  "For a CEO of her own company, hooking up with you is a dumb move."

  Zane's perpetual grin broadened. "Don't forget I'm bigger than you, squirt. I can take you."

  Before Wyatt could respond, a guy behind him spoke. "He's been trying that line on me for years. Bullshit trying to baffle brains as usual."

  The guy stepped into view and held out his hand. "Steele Harrison."

  Wyatt struggled to hide his surprise. His other half-brother was a blonder, blue-eyed version of himself. Six foot. Lean. Wiry. With a vague hint of a frown line between his brows.

  "Wyatt. Pleased to meet you." He shook his half-brother's hand, not surprised Steele tried to squeeze his down to the bones.

  Zane had clued him in that Steele was a control freak and had to be in charge of every situation, from the boardroom to a party. Guess that's where their similarities ended. Wyatt preferred blending into a crowd any day.

  "We look alike." Steele studied Wyatt’s face, as if looking for clues to a mystery he wasn't sure he wanted to solve.

  "Yeah, could be worse." Wyatt jerked a thumb at Zane. "We could look like him."

  Steele let out a bark of laughter. "I reckon we're going to be mates."

  "Yeah, brains trump brawn any day," Wyatt drawled, secretly thrilled to be swapping banter with his half-brothers.

  He'd never been close to Kurt, his NFL star brother, for the simple fact they had little in common. Plus he wouldn't be human if he didn't resent Kurt for their father's obvious favoritism.

  Christopher Harrison, the doyen of sporting goods in America, valued strength and courage on a football field. He didn't think much of talent in the IT arena.

  "If you two are going to gang up on me five seconds after meeting for the first frigging time, I'm outta here," Zane said, an obvious blu
ff, considering he looked immensely pleased Steele had accepted him so easily.

  "He won't leave," Steele said. "Chantal has his balls in her back pocket."

  Wyatt laughed. Thank god Steele had the same dry sense of humor as his Aussie brother.

  "You two losers are jealous." Zane snapped his fingers. "Hey, speaking of hot women, what's going on with you and Miranda? I saw her bail you up at the door."

  "That yoga chick is crazy." Steele made loopy circles at his temple. "She deliberately trod on my toes in the corridor before we entered and then she went ballistic."

  Zane's eyes narrowed. "What aren't you telling us?"

  "Nothing." Steele's expression, a mix of guilt and angelic, made Wyatt snicker.

  Since he'd been working here the last few weeks, he'd gotten to observe most of the girls firsthand. People didn't notice him because he worked in the background. He liked it that way. It enabled him to make people-reading an art form.

  Pity he couldn't get an accurate read on Ashlin.

  From what he'd seen, Chantal, Ashlin and Miranda were tight. Where Chantal and Ashlin were tall, lithe, blonde and redhead respectively, Miranda was a petite brunette who looked capable of packing a punch. Whatever Steele had done, he would've paid money to see her take him down.

  "So Zane tells me you're updating the IT systems here?" Steele said.

  Wyatt nodded, admiring Steele's change of topic, something he'd used to great effect earlier. "Yeah. Some of the stuff is pretty archaic so it's an upgrade."

  "We should talk shop one day," Steele said.

  Wyatt would like nothing better. "You run your own digital marketing company?"

  "Uh-huh. Promote businesses worldwide."

  Zane snorted. "He's underselling as usual. Think of every major brand and he's probably marketing it online."

  "Impressive," Wyatt said, his admiration increasing because of Steele's modesty. Some of the guys he knew in IT would spend endless hours boasting about their success. He preferred the quiet achievers.