Under His Skin

Sure her cheeks must be a fiery beacon to her embarrassment, she mustered a disinterested expression. ‘I want to know if you can turn this space into a state-of-the-art recording studio.’

When he grinned, she knew she hadn’t succeeded in fooling him and she almost sagged in relief when he stopped staring at her with those too-knowing eyes and glanced around the room.

‘This is one quirky space.’ He pointed to the cracked glass ceiling. ‘Looks like a few birds ended up with a headache up there.’

‘It was like that when I bought it.’

‘How long ago was that?’

‘About a month after I arrived in Australia, five years ago.’

‘Yet you still sound like the Queen.’

She laughed at his lame impression of a British accent. ‘I love living here but I can’t quite manage a “no worries, mate” yet.’

‘Takes practice.’ He winked and that heat in her cheeks spread to every inch of her yearning body.

God, it was embarrassing how long since she’d last had sex. One year? Two? She’d given up counting around the time she’d had her third putrid date via an online app one of her students swore by.

Her unintentional celibacy had to be the reason she wanted to push this rugged, sexy Aussie down onto the floor and mount him.

‘Are you okay?’

To make matters worse, he took a step closer, bringing him within touching distance. He smelled good too, like cut grass on a rainy day. Earthy. Wholesome. It made her wonder what he would taste like...

Crap. Thinking about those old novels wasn’t good.

‘I’m fine, it’s a tad hot in here.’ She refrained from fanning her cheeks, just.

‘Really?’ His gaze locked on hers and she knew without a doubt he was toying with her. ‘I guess it’s better than the initial chill.’

The corners of his mouth quirked into a cute smirk; he wasn’t talking about the ambient temperature.

‘I’m reserved when I first meet people,’ she said, annoyed by the compulsion to justify herself but needing to get this guy onside because he was the best for her needs. The needs of her studio, that was, and the first step to really proving herself in the music industry. Her story, and she was sticking to it. ‘I can come across a little cold.’

‘Brr...try freezing.’ He mimicked a shiver and rubbed his arms, drawing her attention to his fine biceps and pecs straining beneath the simple white cotton of a button-down shirt.

Seriously rattled by the urge to keep ogling him, she gritted her teeth. ‘Do you want this job or not, Mr Holmes?’

‘Uh-oh, the thermostat got turned down again.’ His teeth fake-chattered and she bit back a laugh. ‘And for what it’s worth I don’t give a fuck about this job. I run one of the top specialised construction companies in the country. I don’t advertise because word of mouth recommendations will keep me busy with potential business for the next few decades.’

He took another step closer and she held her breath. ‘So let’s get one thing straight. The real question here is whether I choose to do your job and whether you can afford me.’

Nobody spoke to Hope like this, ever. From the moment she’d been born into the illustrious McWilliams family, everyone around her had kissed her aristocratic ass. She’d thought it the norm until she’d grown older and wiser, around the age of seven, when one of the maids’ daughters had called her a stuck-up prig. She’d been shocked to be disliked for the first time in her life and hadn’t liked it. Her parents had deferred to her and the domestic staff had too; even her teachers had been politely fawning.

The problem with everyone pandering to her meant she could never fully trust when someone liked her for herself. And she’d made a monumental mistake in her personal life because of it.

She couldn’t tell the difference between suck-ups and sincerity. So she really admired those who didn’t kowtow to her. Like Logan.

‘Sorry if I offended you.’ She offered the same smile she’d used to great effect over the years when wheedling exactly what she wanted out of her parents. ‘I revert to my English roots all too quickly when I’m bamboozled.’

‘I have that effect on you?’

Damn, in her efforts to calm him she’d slipped up and said too much. ‘I meant the upcoming renovations and my eagerness to get them done quickly.’

She gestured at the walls to emphasise her point but by the glint in his eyes he knew her excuse was BS.

‘Right, the renovations,’ he drawled, sticking his hands into his pockets and following her line of vision around the room. ‘Here’s what I see. You’ll need a complete revamp of the space. New roofing for a start. If you want to keep the glass dome, it’ll need to be double-glazed. But if you want this to be completely soundproof I’d ditch the glass. The flooring will be an easy fix and the walls not too hard either.’

She could listen to him talk all day, his deep voice with the broad Australian accent as intoxicating as the rest of him. His eyes lit up as he explained the renovations, demonstrating true passion for his work.

How would he look indulging in other passions?

When she caught him staring at her oddly again, she quickly cleared her throat. ‘How much?’

‘I’ll outline all the proposed changes and costing in a formal quote I’ll email to you later, but from what I can see, including materials and labour, you’re looking at a ballpark figure of around sixty grand.’

Hope tried to hide her surprise and failed. She wasn’t a complete novice and had obtained quotes from two other companies, both coming in at about half of Logan’s. But a fellow music teacher who also played violin in a major touring orchestra had recommended him to her. Apparently Logan’s company had constructed their rehearsal spaces to a standard higher than that of anything in which her friend had practised around the world and Hope had known then that she had to have him. Renovate, that was. That clarification was important for her howling libido that hadn’t quit since she’d first laid eyes on him.

‘Done.’

His eyebrows shot up and his lips thinned, as if he was clamping them together with all his might to prevent from blurting that she was crazy for accepting his first offer.

‘I’ll settle for nothing less than the best and I know what I want.’ She stepped into his personal space, almost toe to toe, done with him toying with her. Time to regain the upper hand. ‘And I want you.’

CHAPTER THREE (#u9d69f867-0858-551b-b6b6-933f716a1e89)

LOGAN KNEW HOPE was referring to him doing her precious bloody renovations when she said ‘I want you’ but it took a second or two for his eager cock to catch up with his logic.

He’d been rock-hard since he’d set foot in this room and she’d become animated, like one of those wind-up ballerinas in his mum’s old jewellery box that whirled when wound up.

He’d tried to get a rise out of her several times, to tease her into lightening up, to see what was beneath that frosty exterior.

He hadn’t expected her to turn the tables on him.

She stood too close, some exotic flowery fragrance reminiscent of newly budded roses teasing him to bury his nose in her neck and inhale. Close enough he could feel the heat radiating off her, as if she’d been standing next to a radiator too long. Her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted and tiny jade flecks glowed in her eyes.

For a second he almost lost it. He imagined backing her up against the nearest wall, flipping up that short kaftan, tearing off her panties and burying himself in deep. Or having her kneel before him, that prim and proper mouth wrapped around him, sucking him off...

‘I accept your offer. When can you start?’

Logan blinked, his X-rated fantasy instantly obliterated by her coolly polite question.

Of course he had to accept the job now, even after throwing out that ludicrously inflated price. He’d done it to see her baulk and had looked forward to bargaining with her. She had a hidden fire beneath the frost and it had come out several times already when she’d returned his quips. He sure as hell hadn’t expected her to agree to it so fast.

But he couldn’t recant now, not without appearing unprofessional, so he nodded. ‘I’ll do the preliminaries and get my team set. We can start Monday if that suits?’

She grimaced. ‘Monday is my busiest teaching day and I don’t want my students disrupted. Can you start Tuesday?’