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  His grin broadened and her hands clenched into fists. Just another step and she’d be close enough to slug him …

  ‘Now, we both know that’s a lie.’

  She frowned, not following as he crowded her personal space but she didn’t give an inch, wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

  ‘What are you going on about?’

  ‘You don’t think I’m vile.’

  He leaned close enough to murmur in her ear, close enough a wave of some expensive citrus aftershave washed over her, close enough for her to feel the heat radiating off him and she gritted her teeth against the impulse to get closer.

  ‘Not by the way you were looking at me earlier in that towel.’

  He popped the intimate bubble enveloping them just like that and she shoved him away.

  Mistake number two: placing her palms on that hard chest again.

  Mistake number one had happened the instant she’d agreed to have him tag along on this tour.

  Taking a deep breath to steady her rampaging pulse, she pinned him with a glare he couldn’t mistake for anything other than ‘take one step closer to me again and you die’.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind. You can shove your apology and your sexy smiles. Let’s go.’

  She stabbed at the elevator button and broke a nail in the process.

  Thankfully, he kept his mouth shut. Until they stepped into the elevator and the doors slid soundlessly shut.

  ‘So you think my smile’s sexy, huh?’

  Charli silently called herself some very unladylike names and clamped her lips shut in response.

  Luca couldn’t help himself. There was something delightfully alluring about a woman who didn’t fall at his feet. Sure, he liked a challenge as much as the next guy, but lately even dating the newest Oscar winner or squiring a princess around Europe had lost its thrill.

  He knew why he did it, of course, was well aware of how every paparazzi picture or each gossip-column mention vindicated the choices he’d made. Childish and puerile, maybe, but every time he saw himself in the press, he hoped the people who’d shunned him had their snooty noses rubbed in it.

  As the valet steered a low-slung bright red Ferrari to stop in front of them he wolfwhistled.

  ‘Some car.’

  She shot him another death glare that did nothing but turn him on as she stepped around the bonnet and held out her hand to the valet.

  The Ferrari was hers? Jeez, and he’d started to believe her story about not taking advantage of Pop. No way no how could an executive assistant afford a car like this.

  She flashed the valet a glorious smile that only served to rile him further—he wouldn’t mind being on the end of one of those—and slid into the car, her skirt riding mid-thigh, his libido shooting sky-high. Those long, gorgeous legs could be put to much better use than pushing pedals.

  Easing his overnight bag into the back seat, he slid into the passenger side, admiring her driving skill as she guided the car out of Crown and into the heavy city traffic.

  When she kept up the silent treatment for six blocks, he said, ‘Nice wheels.’

  ‘I like fast cars.’

  Her frigid tone could’ve produced glaciers in the Pacific.

  ‘Yours?’

  ‘What do you think?’

  She took her eyes off the road for a second, her withering glare speaking volumes.

  O-kay, maybe they’d got off on the wrong foot, what with him virtually accusing her of working for Pop for easy access to his fortune. And while the car only served to reinforce his suspicions, he’d get more out of her by treating her nicely rather than antagonising further.

  Not that it would be simple. He liked teasing her, getting her all riled up so those big green eyes glowed and her mouth pursed, plumping up some seriously kissable lips.

  ‘Seeing as we’re stuck with each other for the next fortnight, why don’t we call a truce? I won’t accuse you of anything if you stop looking at me like something you stepped in at a dog show.’

  The corners of her delectable mouth twitched and as the car eased to a stop at a traffic light she shot him a tight smile.

  ‘Can’t make any promises but I’ll try. Deal?’

  He couldn’t shake her hand, with one on the steering wheel and the other on the gear stick, so he did the next best thing. Unable to stop the resident demon that prompted him to do impulsive things on a daily basis, he leaned across and kissed her.

  ‘Deal,’ he murmured against her lips, taking advantage of her shock by kissing her again, lingering this time, sliding his lips over hers, exerting just enough pressure to show that given half a chance he’d deepen it to the point of no return.

  Two sharp honks on a horn behind them had her cursing and shoving him away before she returned her hand to the gear stick and slid into first.

  ‘Care to explain what that was about?’

  Her tone had resumed its frostiness while he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

  ‘Not that I usually need to explain why I kiss a beautiful woman, but we couldn’t shake on the deal so I did the next best thing. Why, did I offend you?’

  His silky tone garnered a snort in response. ‘Newsflash. That out-of-line kiss rendered the deal null and void. New deal. We don’t talk for the next fortnight. Capish?’

  Oh, yeah, that kiss had got to her.

  ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

  ‘You’re here to manage the finances, not have fun.’

  ‘Surely the two aren’t mutually exclusive?’

  She screeched into a side street, giving him momentary whiplash, before cutting the engine and turning to face him.

  ‘Another newsflash. I’m not one of your bimbos. I work for your grandfather. I take my job seriously. And I don’t need some goof-off blow-in making trouble for me. Got it?’

  She stopped just short of jabbing him in the chest. Pity, he would’ve liked to feel her hands on him again.

  ‘Loud and clear.’

  Her shoulders sagged in relief, before he added, ‘Doesn’t mean I’ll play nice.’

  ‘You’re a pain in the—’

  ‘With all this talk of work, doesn’t sound like you have much time for fun?’

  ‘I have plenty of fun.’

  His snort deepened her indignant frown. ‘When’s the last time you had a date?’

  She clamped her lips shut.

  ‘Had sex?’

  Her legs followed suit and he laughed.

  ‘Look, we can do this the hard way or the fun way. My mouth? Has a life of its own. Runs away all the time. I’ll compliment you constantly. I’ll tease you incessantly. I may even kiss you on occasion but it’s harmless. All good, clean fun.’

  It was her turn to snort but not before he’d caught the gleam of excitement making the gold flecks in her green eyes glow.

  ‘No kissing.’

  He paused for a moment, pretended to think. ‘Sorry, can’t promise that.’

  ‘You’re impossible! ‘

  ‘But you like me anyway.’

  Their gazes locked and the car’s tight confines shrank further. He could smell her light floral perfume, could see the indecision warring with excitement in her eyes, could sense her capitulation as her shoulders relaxed and she leaned forward a fraction.

  For once, he kept his big mouth shut, enjoying the electricity buzzing between them, savouring the promise of sparring, sparks and sex.

  And there would be sex, he had no doubt. They had some serious chemistry going on, the kind you couldn’t ignore.

  Throw in the fact they’d be together twenty-four-seven and it was inevitable.

  He could hardly wait.

  ‘There’s nothing I can say that’ll make you back off, is there? ‘

  ‘No.’

  With an exasperated sigh, she shook her head. ‘Having you tag along on this tour goes way beyond the call of duty. And I have to put up with grief to boot?’

  She revved the engine, the sound of the firing cylinders
a joy to a guy’s heart.

  ‘Go on, admit it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re having fun already.’

  With another neck-twisting wrench on the steering wheel she pulled back onto the road.

  ‘Does it look like I’m having fun?’

  ‘Either you’re trialling for the Grand Prix or you’re driving like a maniac because you’re ticked off.’

  She threw in another rev for good meas ure.

  ‘Okay, got the message loud and clear. I’ll shut up ‘til we get to Ballarat.’

  Her hands instantly relaxed on the steering wheel.

  ‘How long?’

  ‘An hour, maybe ninety minutes in this traffic,’ she said, her tone smug.

  He let her have her little victory for now. She’d soon learn he didn’t always do as he said.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHARLI cranked up the stereo as they left the city traffic behind, hoping Luca would get the hint. She’d tried telling him to his face; it had done nothing. Maybe the subtle approach would work better?

  Yeah, and maybe he’d shut up for the duration of the tour. Absolutely no chance.

  Ever since he’d kissed her she’d avoided looking at him; couldn’t look at him, really, not without staring at his mouth. And if she did that. She could verbally flay him all she liked but her eyes couldn’t lie. One look and he’d know exactly how his kiss affected her: rattled beyond belief.

  Forget the fact she hadn’t had a date in nine months let alone a hint of a smooch. Abstinence couldn’t explain her irrational, overwhelming urge to keep kissing him until they were breathless, the urge to run her hands all over him, the urge to tear her clothes off and straddle him and let him prove to her if half of what she’d read about his playboy reputation was true.

  A car overtook them on the freeway, the four-wheel-drive’s tail-lights seeming to wink at her and she blinked. Even damn inanimate objects were laughing at her expense.

  How stupid could she be? The kiss meant nothing, was more of the same teasing he’d been doing ever since she’d had the misfortune to knock on his hotel door.

  For some unknown reason he’d wanted to rile her the second he’d opened the door to her wearing a towel and that infuriatingly cocky smile. So far, he’d done a good job of it. He’d flirted with her, insulted her and kissed her, all within the first hour. Didn’t bode well for the rest of the fortnight.

  ‘We nearly there yet?’

  ‘What are you? Four?’

  Slowing to let a truck pass, she smirked. ‘Silly me, that’s just your IQ.’

  He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that rippled over her like soft velvet.

  ‘I love it when you’re feisty.’

  ‘I love it when you’re silent.’

  She turned up the music, unconsciously humming along with her favourite pop ballad. Of course he had to go one better, singing along in perfect tune, the lyrics sounding like erotic pillow talk tripping from his lips.

  She gulped, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tight her knuckles stood out. A hot flush started somewhere in the vicinity of her belly and spread upwards and outwards, burning her up from the inside out as he crooned about touching and pleasure and all night long.

  ‘Interesting taste in music,’ he said when the song thankfully ended and she sighed in relief.

  ‘I like pop. Didn’t peg you for a fan, though.’

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Don’t guys go in for heavier stuff?’

  She jumped when he reached across and squeezed her hand on the gear stick.

  ‘Thought you’d have figured out by now, I’m not your average guy.’

  ‘No, you’re more annoying than most.’

  Though that was a lie. Sure, he’d done his best to wind her up when they first met, was still doing it in fact, but he wasn’t annoying so much as intriguing. And that was what made her mad; that she’d been all set to dislike him, and every time he opened his mouth only reinforced the fact, but she couldn’t.

  He was the first guy in ages to pique her interest, to make her want to retaliate. The first guy to make her body tingle from top to toe, to make her skin prickle with awareness, to make her yearn for more than a teasing brush of his lips.

  ‘Why don’t you admit it?’

  Grateful she had to focus on the freeway, she didn’t need to look his way to hear the laughter in his voice.

  ‘Admit what?’

  ‘That I’m growing on you.’

  ‘Yeah, like fungus.’

  ‘Now who’s the child? Didn’t that one get used around third grade?’

  ‘Should be about your level, then.’

  She saw him recline his seat out of the corner of her eye and wriggle around to get comfortable before clasping his hands behind his head.

  ‘You know, I’ve been around the block a few times. Dated princesses, movie stars, models. But you, you’re something else.’

  She didn’t know if he’d just complimented or insulted her but the thought of him being with all those women served as a wake-up call. He’d said it himself. He’d been around and no way was she foolish enough to become another string on his guitar.

  ‘So you’ve slept around a lot. Doesn’t make you a good judge of women.’

  ‘Who said anything about sleeping around?’

  She blushed, hating how she’d have to dig herself out of this one.

  ‘You did—’

  ‘I said dating. Not the same thing. Do you sleep with all the guys you date?’

  ‘‘Course not!’

  Besides, she’d have to date to have a chance at sleeping with them and she’d been so busy these past few years, proving herself, proving to Hector he hadn’t made a mistake taking in a scruff like her, she’d had limited down time. When she had dated she’d chosen guys so removed from her past that once they got beyond the first few dates she found they had nothing in common.

  Ironic, the cool musos who once held so much appeal left her dead now. She’d seen what that world could do, the havoc it wrought if you got caught up in the glamour and the rush, and thankfully she’d never been inclined to date Landry’s clientele.

  ‘You seeing anyone?’

  ‘Like that’d stop you,’ she muttered, shooting him a withering glance as he held up his hands in surrender.

  ‘Hey, I like a challenge but I don’t poach.’

  ‘What’s it to you anyway?’

  Her heart stuttered when he leaned across, their shoulders brushing, and it took all her concentration to focus on the freeway and not land them in a ditch.

  ‘We’re both single. We’re stuck together for this tour. We’re attracted to each other. You do the math.’

  ‘One plus one equals a bit fat zero?’

  Disappointingly he didn’t retaliate, the loaded silence only serving to notch up the intimacy, and she silently swore. This car was her pride and joy, a symbol of how hard she’d worked, how far she’d come but right now the interior she usually found comfortingly cosy seemed stifling.

  It was him, of course, with his big chest and big shoulders and big head.

  ‘Care to lay a wager on that?’

  She bit back her first response of where he could stick his wager.

  ‘Because from where I’m sitting, the two of us getting together by the end of this tour is inevitable.’

  This time, her cursing wasn’t so silent and she clenched the steering wheel, not risking a glance in his direction and catching the smug grin that had to be plastered across his too-handsome face.

  The guy was infuriating.

  The guy was annoying.

  The guy was only verbalising what she’d already envisaged in her mixed-up head, making her mad as hell.

  She cranked up the music and he wisely shut up. If only he’d stay mute for the rest of the tour.

  The road trip from hell got worse the moment Charli approached the front desk of the apartments where they were staying.

  ‘Welcome
to Ballarat, Miss Chambers.’

  ‘Thanks. Do you have our room keys?’

  The receptionist’s smile faded. ‘We do but there’s been a problem.’

  Charli didn’t need any more problems. Bad enough she had one big problem tagging along for the tour.

  ‘What’s up?’

  The receptionist’s eyes widened and her jaw sagged as Luca strode into the small reception area.

  The woman had to be fiftysomething but she had a pulse and any woman would’ve drooled over Luca—including her, sadly, considering she couldn’t stop thinking about that kiss the entire drive.

  ‘I thought I told you to wait in the car,’ she muttered, shooting him a frown that only served to widen his permanent grin.

  Leaning down, he murmured in her ear, ‘Heads-up. I’m a big boy now. I don’t always do as I’m told.’

  She gulped at the hint of danger tinged with promise in his smoother-than-honey tone, grateful when the receptionist held out a pair of key cards.

  ‘Management’s apologies, but due to the construction work next door and burst water mains we’ve had to put you both in the same apartment. It’s a two-bedroom, far end of the corridor. If you need anything—’

  ‘But I made this booking a month ago. You must have another apartment.’

  Her voice had risen to an embarrassing squeak and she clamped her lips shut as the receptionist shook her head.

  ‘I’m sorry, Miss Chambers, this is all we’ve got.’

  Her brusque tone held a distinct undercurrent of ‘take it or leave it’ and, considering this had been her last resort due to some folk festival coinciding with Storm’s first gig in town booking up every last room, she had no choice.

  ‘We’ll take it,’ Luca said, swiping the key cards from the receptionist with a dazzling smile that had the older woman practically purring. ‘Thanks.’

  ‘You’re welcome, sir.’

  Charli slumped, her heart sinking as Luca draped an arm over her shoulders and drawled, ‘Let’s go, roomie. I’m looking forward to bunking down.’

  She elbowed him in the ribs, hard.

  As Luca opened the door to their apartment and gestured her in Charli realised things could be worse. The apartment complex might’ve shoved them into a one-bedroom. But as she stepped into the apartment, only slightly larger than a shoebox, her relief was short-lived.