Wed in the outback volum.., p.21
Wed In the Outback, Volume 1, page 21
‘Excuse me,’ and then she laughed. Surprised, horrified, amused. Likely all the above. ‘I don’t normally do that.’
‘Laugh or belch?’
She laughed some more, blushed too. The flush of colour making her blue eyes shine and softening every hard edge she’d been projecting until now. She uncrossed her legs, eased a little closer and he realised he was wrong earlier; it wasn’t a skirt but wide-leg pants. The fabric as delicate as she’d first appeared.
But this woman was far from delicate. She was a force of nature, and he was loving every second of their interaction, rebukes and all.
‘Actually, come to think of it...’ she sobered, as though remembering what she was about ‘...both.’
‘And that’s a mighty shame.’
She gave him the side eye, a look he was coming to enjoy more than he should. Part flirtation, part rack off. ‘You want more belching?’
He grinned. ‘I want more laughing but if it takes some belching first, it’s a price I’m willing to pay.’
Her mouth twitched at the corners. ‘How very accommodating.’
‘Not something I’m used to hearing, but I’ll take it.’
She looked at him properly now, twisting in her chair. Her knee brushed against his thigh and his skin came alive, a tantalising warmth pulsing its way straight to his groin. He took up his beer. Made it appear all causal when he desperately needed the cool distraction...especially when he could sense her cogs working overtime.
‘What?’
‘You’re right, you don’t look the accommodating type.’
‘No?’ He narrowed his gaze, lowered his beer. ‘How do I look?’
She nipped her lip. ‘You really want to know?’
Was she flirting with him now? Or was that just wishful thinking on his part?
‘I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.’ Though maybe he should reconsider because that look in her eye was taking this somewhere he hadn’t expected...somewhere he doubted she had either.
‘You look the exact opposite.’
‘Which would be?’
‘Unmoving. Unobliging.’ She leaned closer with each descriptor, and he supped his beer again, finding safety in the distraction. ‘Inflexible. Stubborn.’
Definitely flirting, and he was definitely liking it.
‘Hard.’
He nearly spat his beer.
‘Well, you did ask,’ she said, throwing back some water.
‘And do you always say what you think?’
She shrugged. ‘When it suits me or the task at hand.’
‘And is that what I am, some task at hand?’
Her blue eyes pinned him. ‘Would you like to be my task at hand?’
Woah, this was going too far, too fast, yet he had no desire to make it stop. And clearly, neither did she.
‘You’re not from around here, are you?’
And just like that, he’d stamped on the brake. He might as well have thrown ice over her for the sudden chill in the air. He was torn between changing topic and asking what was wrong.
The former was the least contentious, especially when they were nothing more than strangers. But the latter was what he really wanted so he opted for something in between.
‘Sorry, but those shoes gave you away. Reckon they’ll do you some mischief in these parts...’
She pursed her lips, her eyes coming alive again.
‘Then there’s your accent... English if I’m not mistaken.’
‘Very perceptive.’
‘Perceptive,’ he drawled, raising his brows. ‘I’ll add that to accommodating. My positive traits are growing.’
She was smiling now. Enough for him to bite the bullet and say, ‘So tell me, just what is a woman like you doing in a place like this?’
‘Would you believe me if I said I was on holiday?’
‘Alone?’
‘Who says I’m alone?’
‘The luggage at your feet and no companion to be seen.’
‘Who says I’m not meeting someone?’
‘Are you?’
‘Might be.’
‘Lucky someone.’
She laughed, her eyes sparkling like Sydney Harbour on a bright summer’s day. ‘Are you always so smooth?’
‘Smooth, perceptive, and accommodating. I’m winning today.’
She shook her head. ‘Winning indeed. And no.’ She pulled a strand of hair from her lip, its glossy fullness holding his eye a second longer than was wise. ‘I’m not meeting anyone. I’m here because...’
She blew out a breath, giving herself cheeks like a hamster—not something she’d appreciate hearing, he was sure, but adorable all the same.
‘Because?’ he pressed when she didn’t continue, her gaze falling to the empty beer bottle as she rocked it against the bar.
‘Because I have a family issue to take care of and...’ she cast her gaze over the room ‘...it’s complicated.’
‘In my experience, families always are.’
‘You too?’
He took a swig of beer and sucked the air through his teeth. ‘Let’s just say my father and I don’t get along.’
‘Now there’s a tale I understand...’ She clinked her bottle against his, warming to him again. ‘What is it with yours?’
‘Aside from me being invisible to him growing up?’ He doused the bitterness with another sip. ‘Nothing I ever did was good enough.’
‘Let me guess...’ her eyes were soft with understanding, the kind that came from experience ‘...another sibling steal the limelight?’
‘No. No siblings. Just me. I guess you did though.’
She nodded.
‘How many siblings stole your stage?’
Her mouth twisted. ‘Too many.’
‘Sisters, brothers?’
‘All sisters.’
He winced. ‘So what are you? The eldest, the youngest, middle...’
‘Second eldest.’
‘Forever in your older sister’s shadow?’ he surmised. ‘Or overlooked for the younger, the needier?’
‘You really are quite astute...’
‘So you’ve said. Perceptive, remember.’
‘For a man, it’s quite refreshing.’
‘And I’m sure I should be accusing you of sexism now.’
‘So why aren’t you?’
‘Because I’m too interested in what makes you tick.’
She shook her head, her laugh more strained now. ‘Are we really doing this?’
‘Doing what?’
‘Having a dose of family therapy at the bar?’
‘Better some therapy than none.’
She stared at him. ‘Are you always like this with people you’ve just met?’
‘When they interest me.’
She gave a soft chuckle, held his eye as she took a swig of water, then, ‘If you really must know, my older sister is my father in female form, she could do no wrong. My younger sister is all sunshine and light, and again...’
‘She could do no wrong,’ he said with her. ‘And your other?’
Her jaw pulsed, her eyes evading him as she muttered something that sounded much like, ‘Damned if I know.’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Let me guess...’ he smiled softly ‘...it’s complicated.’
‘Got it in one. So what was your father’s excuse?’
‘He was married to his work.’
‘Something else that sounds familiar...’
‘You too? What does he do?’
‘Did.’ She swallowed, her jaw pulsing again. ‘He’s dead.’
He stilled, his hand reaching between them. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t—’
‘I’m not.’ Though it came out forced, too quick, too learned.
‘In that case, I’m even more sorry.’
‘Don’t be, I lost my father long before he left this world.’
Her eyes blazed but beneath the fire there was pain. Unresolved. Potent.
‘Want to talk about it?’
She cocked a brow at him, scoffed, ‘No.’
‘Okay, “want” is the wrong word to use, how about “need”? Because I’m willing to listen. No judgment. All ears.’
‘Nice try, but I’m not all mouth so...’ She sipped her water, her mouth very much drawing him in as she dismissed the turn in conservation as readily as they’d hit on it.
What was it about this woman that made him want to go deeper, to dig beneath the cool facade to the woman beneath?
When was the last time he’d felt such a pull...?
Had he ever?
He forced himself to relax back on his stool, to ease up. If she didn’t want to talk about it, it wasn’t right for him to push it. ‘I rarely talk about my father either.’
‘And your mother?’ she asked, coming back to him a little.
‘She’s an entirely different breed from him.’ He smiled. Thoughts of his mum making the gesture easy. ‘Soft, loving, always willing to listen. Always nagging me to come home too.’
She blinked, her gaze falling away but not before he swore he caught a tear. ‘That’s nice.’
‘It has its moments,’ he said, carefully. ‘What about yours?’
Though he sensed her answer in the melancholic air, whatever had tainted her relationship with her father, it didn’t seem to extend to her mother because there was no bitterness now, only sadness. ‘Also, dead.’
He reached out again but this time he covered her hand, warm and soft beneath his own. ‘I’m sorry.’
She took a shallow breath, gave the tiniest of shrugs. ‘It was a long time ago now. I don’t know why it hurts so much.’
‘She was your mother. It’s always going to hurt.’
‘She was my mother but...’
She slipped her hand from his, gripped it in her lap.
‘But?’
She gave a rapid shake of her head, rolled her shoulders back, parking whatever it was some place deep and not to be examined. ‘It’s...’
‘Complicated?’ he finished for her.
‘And you know...’ she murmured, her eyes lifting to his, their sudden spark catching him unawares, ‘I’d much rather talk about these.’
She reached out to lightly trace the tattoo on one arm, her touch firing up the nerve-endings beneath and making the muscle twitch, his entire body tense.
She snatched her hand back, making a fist. ‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have—’
He shook his head. ‘Not at all. I just wasn’t expecting it.’
Not the delicate touch or the way it powered through him, coiling through his core. Making him want more. So much more.
‘How about I trade you background on my tattoos for whatever has that frown forming just there?’ He gestured to the crease between her brows, resisting the urge to reach out and smooth it away with his thumb.
‘It’s an interesting proposition,’ she murmured, tilting her head to the side.
‘An agreeable one?’
‘I’m not so sure...how do I know if it’s a fair trade?’
‘You don’t.’
‘You’re not selling it very well.’
‘On the contrary, I’m rousing your curiosity.’
She laughed, shook her head. ‘Is that so?’
‘And you seem like a woman who thrives off taking the odd risk.’
She laughed harder. ‘At work perhaps, but in my personal life...’
‘In your personal life they reap the biggest reward.’
Her lashes fluttered. ‘Now I know you’re talking nonsense.’
‘And you’re a woman who avoids talking about anything deep and meaningful so...?’
‘You think you have me sussed.’
‘I think I have a fair idea of the woman you are and we haven’t even exchanged names.’
‘Oh, we did... You’re Nate.’
‘And you are?’
She gave him a cocky grin. ‘Doesn’t my lack of identity make this connection all the more thrilling?’
‘Thrilling for you, yes.’ And he had to admit, he liked her putting words to it. A connection. It meant she felt it too. This intense attraction that had his body so attuned to hers while their verbal sparring had his head firing too. ‘But it puts me at a disadvantage.’
Her smile widened. ‘Just where I like you.’
‘Beautiful and power-hungry. That’s quite the combination.’
She leaned a little closer. ‘In my line of work, it pays to be both.’
‘And what line is that?’ he pressed, sensing he was close to learning something real.
‘Public relations, advertising, marketing people’s wares...’
It certainly fit the image.
‘Any hobbies on the side?’
‘Just work.’
‘No husband, no partner...’
‘No time for a man.’
He cocked a brow. ‘Don’t you ever get lonely?’
‘I don’t have time to get lonely.’
‘Yet here you are, in a bar...’
‘I’m on a three-month sabbatical.’
And she didn’t sound happy about it.
‘Already missing it?’
‘Quite.’
‘Now you remind me of my father.’
‘Ouch.’
She was teasing, he wasn’t. The similarity should have been enough to see him giving his goodbyes...instead his butt was rooted, his body leaning closer.
‘So, do I get a name?’
She pursed her lips, narrowed her gaze...
‘What name would you give me?’
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He eased back. ‘I’m not playing this game.’
‘Why not?’
‘Too much at stake.’
‘How so?’
‘I give you a name you don’t like and you wrinkle your nose like you did when you stepped out of that cab back there. Or the opposite happens, I give you a name that implies I find you attractive and send you running. There’s no right answer and, thus, I cannot win.’
She laughed softly. ‘You’re probably right.’
‘So?’
‘It’s Eve.’
‘Eve?’
Her gaze flicked over the room. ‘Just Eve.’
‘Well, just Eve, you have improved my day a hundred times over and for that, I thank you.’
‘No thank you necessary, you’ve done the same for me. I’ve dreaded this trip and I was counting down the seconds until I can escape again. Meeting you has put a temporary pause on that ticking clock.’
He frowned at the depth of feeling behind her words, at how much she hated it here... Or hated what had brought her here?
‘What’s with the frown?’ she purred.
‘I’m disappointed you’re in such a hurry to leave.’
‘Why? Are you sticking around because, pardon me for being so blunt, you don’t look like you’re from around here either?’
‘I don’t?’
‘You’re a little rough around the edges, granted, but your beard is too groomed, your accent too city-like...’
‘Very perceptive,’ he said, throwing her own compliment back at her and coaxing out another smile.
‘Something else we have in common. So...’ She tilted her head once more. ‘You didn’t answer my question—are you sticking around?’
‘If things work out how I plan, yes.’
‘Things with your family or...’
‘Family and work.’
‘And what plans are those?’
‘I thought you didn’t want to sweat the serious stuff, right now?’
She gave him a slow smile. ‘Okay. Tattoos it is...’
And then her hands were back on him, her fingers tracing the black ink, and it was all he could do to keep his cool and concentrate on the words passing through her lips rather than what he wanted to do with them.
‘Tell me about this one...’
He shifted in his seat, told his body to behave. ‘You like him?’
‘Him?’ She raised both brows. ‘I don’t know, I can’t see him properly.’
‘Is that you asking for a better look?’
‘Maybe.’
He chuckled low in his throat, placed his beer down and rolled back his cuff. She lowered her gaze, eyes distinctly hungry, their heat working its way through him too as she reached out to lift his arm closer and gave a breathy, ‘Oh!’
She might as well have had an orgasm and been blissful in its aftermath for the image that simple sound evoked. Did she have any idea what she was doing to him? Her appreciation. Her extended touch. Her blazing blue eyes.
‘That’s impressive.’ She stroked her fingers over his skin, tracing the intricate sketch of a wolf emerging from a forest, one paw reaching down his arm.
‘Not what my father thought,’ he said, recalling the showdown with a grim smile. ‘Nor my mother, though she came around eventually.’
‘How old were you when you had it done?’
‘Eighteen. A rebellious move born of a rebellious teen.’
‘Your father’s words?’
‘Words of that ilk, yes.’
Her eyes lifted to his. ‘And what was it for you?’
‘He wasn’t entirely wrong. The wolf represents what family should be about, the pack instinct. Loyalty, communication, protection, shared wisdom...everything my father isn’t.’
‘Oh...’ no bliss now, just sadness ‘...hence the rebellion?’
He nodded, holding her gaze—the sense that she got him, that they got each other overwhelming, overpowering even. A connection that ran far deeper than such a brief encounter would ordinarily permit.
And then she smiled, her lashes lowering, one hand lifting to his neck.
‘What about this one...?’ She touched her fingers to his clavicle, the pads soft and tantalising as she stroked them lower.
‘That’s the tip of a wedge-tailed eagle in flight.’
