Marriage: For Business or Pleasure?

‘And just so you know, I’m nothing like my father. I drive a hard bargain.’

She almost banged her head on the door jamb as his silky voice slid over her. So much for a quick, clean presentation to Papa Mancini. The thought of doing business with Nick, let alone considering whatever bargain he might demand, had her flustered.

And she never got flustered, not any more. Some of the gang at work called her the Ice Princess behind her back and she liked it. Emotions got her nowhere and she’d learned to control her fiery temper along with the rest of her wayward emotions during the long, hard graft in the big city.

As she handed him the folder their fingertips touched and despite the length of time they’d been apart, her heart jackknifed. Wretched organ. She shouldn’t feel anything where Nick was concerned, especially not this strange déjà vu that had her dreaming of stepping closer and running a palm down his bare chest to see if it felt half as good as she remembered.

She took a steadying breath, ignoring the host of unwelcome feelings this man resurrected.

‘There’s a lot we need to discuss. Why don’t we head inside so you can put on some clothes and we can do business?’

She’d made a fatal error in judgement, knew it the second his lips kicked up into a sexy, familiar grin that never failed to take her breath away.

She shouldn’t have mentioned his state of undress, shouldn’t have drawn attention to it, and as if of their own volition her eyes drifted south, riveted to that muscular expanse of temptation less than two feet away.

He was so bronze, so broad, so breathtaking and when she finally dragged her gaze away her knees shook.

‘You sure you want me to get dressed?’

Damn him, he’d called her on her faux pas. A gentleman would’ve ignored her slip-up. Then again, since when had Nick been a gentleman?

Jacaranda’s answer to James Dean had had girls swooning and fathers reaching for shotguns since he’d hit puberty and she was a fool for expecting anything other than bluntness from the guy who’d once rocked her world.

‘Nick, don’t.’

She held up a hand, about as effective as a cockatoo trying to ward off a charging emu.

‘Don’t what?’

He stared at her hand as if he wanted to grab it and she quickly let it drop.

‘Don’t remember the past? Don’t admire the gorgeous woman you’ve become?’

The heat in his eyes scorched her, captivated her, held her spellbound.

‘Or don’t do something as crazy as this?’

Before she could blink, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her.

The kisses they’d shared as teenagers had been exploratory, tender and achingly poignant. Yet there was nothing remotely sweet or gentle about his mouth crushing hers now.

Their lips clashed in a frantic, hungry union, a fusion of tongues, a meshing of desire that left her reeling.

She should’ve been immune to him by now. She should’ve pushed him away and laughed it off as a quick reacquainting peck between friends for old times’ sake.

Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve, as she stood on tiptoes, leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on as if her life depended on it.

As he softened the kiss, plying her with a skilled precision he’d never had as a young man, her resolve to push him away melted, just as it had ten years earlier when she’d acted on all the bottled-up feelings she’d harboured for him for years.

She’d idolised him all through the endless teenage years and he hadn’t glanced in her direction until she’d turned eighteen, thrown herself at him and been wonderfully surprised when the bad boy of Jacaranda had returned her interest. They’d gone steady for exactly six months before things had come to a head at home and she’d been forced to flee.

She hadn’t told Nick about her humiliation, wanting him to need her for who she was, not following her out of some warped sense of pity. So she’d tried to convince him to run away with her. And she’d failed. Not just failed, he’d pushed her away with a callousness that had shattered her heart.

So what the heck was she doing, kissing him like this?

As her common sense belatedly kicked in Nick broke the kiss, untangling her hands from behind his neck and setting them firmly at her side before glaring at her, as if she’d been the one to instigate their clinch in the first place.

‘Don’t expect me to be sorry for that,’ he said, running a hand through his dark wavy hair, sending it in all directions.

‘I gave up expecting anything from you a long time ago.’

She shrugged, aiming for nonchalant while her insides churned, and ran a finger along her bottom lip, wondering if it looked as bruised as it felt.

He’d kissed her…and she’d liked it!

So much for the Ice Princess. Looked as if her hardfought emotion-free veneer had melted the minute he’d liplocked her.

Nick muttered a curse and turned away from Brittany before he made another blunder and hauled her right back into his arms.

She felt good, better than he remembered and he had a damn good memory when it came to this woman.

She’d been the one for him.

And he’d sent her away.

He’d had no choice, but a day hadn’t gone by when he hadn’t replayed memories of the red-haired hellion who’d captured his heart without trying.

Here she was, just as incredible as he remembered.

And he was drawn to her as uncontrollably as ever. For the spell she’d cast over him had never been simply caused by her blue eyes, porcelain skin and waist-length auburn hair that begged a guy to run his fingers through it. Nor did it have anything to do with her lithe body, with enough curves to turn a guy’s head.

No, Brittany Lloyd possessed a more elusive charm, something that drew him surer than spicy tomato meatballs.

Class.

Something he’d craved his entire life, something he’d set about gaining the last few years but she’d been born with, and no amount of mixing in the right circles or business success could buy what she had, in spades.

‘About this business proposition?’ He turned back to face her, surprised by the vulnerability he glimpsed in her eyes. Hell, it was just a damn kiss, no big deal.

‘All in there.’

She pointed at the Manila folder in his hands, stared at it as if it were a ticking bomb ready to detonate.

He weighed it in one hand, tapped it against his palm, gauging her reaction.

‘Jeez, why don’t you just open it?’ She exploded, just as she used to in the good old days and he grinned.

‘Good to see you’ve still got that fiery temper beneath all that polish.’