Her Kind of Trouble

She slid away from him, leaving him to do whatever it was men did with the condom, and reached for her bra. He made himself decent and buckled up, then helped her wriggle into her dress. It was impossible to pull the narrow skirt over her legs while kneeling, so she cracked the door slightly, did a quick scan, then got out. Standing in the V of the open door, she smoothed the skirt down.

“Decent?” she asked.

“Hardly.”

“I meant the dress, funny guy.” She rolled her eyes. Leaning past him, she scooped her panties from the limo floor. No way was she making the rookie’s mistake of leaving those little puppies behind.

“You look fine.”

He got out of the car and she gave him a once-over. It was hard to see much in the dim lighting, but apart from being a little rumpled, he looked fine, too. Which meant they were clear to head into the reception.

She glanced toward the boathouse, not sure how to say what needed to be said.

“Listen, Seth...I had a great time. But just so you know, I’m not really looking for anything. I’ve got a lot going on with my studies, I’ve got a graduate show to prepare for...” She trailed off awkwardly.

He was silent for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “So, what, this was just one night of the best limo-monkey-sex ever, no strings attached?”

She couldn’t tell if he was pissed or not. He didn’t sound pissed, but there was something about the way he was holding himself that made her a little nervous.

“That’s another way of putting it.”

He grinned hugely, his posture and expression relaxing. “I knew you were my kind of girl when I met you, Vivian Walker.”

She punched him on the arm, aware that he’d played her. “Thanks for freaking me out, James.”

“My pleasure.” He tugged her ruined panties from her hand. “I’m keeping these, too, by the way.” He slid them into his pocket.

“Adding them to your collection, are you?”

“I’m going to frame them and hang them above my bed.”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, you are so full of it.”

But so charming and sexy, too. And, God, was he good in bed. Or, if they wanted to be strictly accurate, in car.

He pulled the cigarettes from his pocket and offered her one. She shook her head, and he lit up.

“We probably shouldn’t go back in together,” she pointed out.

“You want to go first or will I?”

“You go,” she said.

He considered her for a moment, then reached out and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “See you ’round, Vivian.”

“Back at ya.”

He started walking toward the boathouse, trailing smoke. She watched him, a frown forming as the repercussions of what they’d done finally made their way through her hazy, champagne-muddled brain.

Her sister was married to his brother. She and Seth would see each other at family functions for the next forever. Probably getting naked with him at the first opportunity hadn’t been the best way to kick off their relationship.

Then she remembered his kiss, and the feel of his hands in her panties, and the hard, thick slide of him inside her, and she waved a hand in the air, shooing her concerns away like an annoying fly.

What had happened between her and Seth had been inevitable from the moment they’d laid eyes on each other. They’d simply gotten it out of the way sooner rather than later.

Which was a good thing.

Smoothing her hands over her hips, she took a deep breath and went to rejoin the party.

CHAPTER TWO

Ten years later

“WE READY TO go people?”

The assistant’s voice rang out over the chatter in the studio, causing a flurry of activity. Lights were tweaked, reflectors placed at the ready. Robin changed lenses on his camera, his dark head bent, his focus on the task absolute.

Vivian shook her head in admiration. He was so damn good at what he did; taking him up on his offer to become business partners was one of the best decisions she’d ever made.

The model she was dressing shifted her weight and Vivian turned to her own task, concentrating on knotting the scarf around the pretty blonde’s neck in a jaunty and sexy bow.

When she was finished she stood back, eyes narrowed as she studied the effect. The model raised her eyebrows, waiting. Vivian nodded.

“You are good to go, sweetie,” she said, patting her on the shoulder.

The girl beamed—and she was a girl, barely sixteen—and took her place on the purple velvet chaise that was the centerpiece of the photo. Vivian sighed. Were the models getting younger or was she getting older?

Probably a bit of both.

This was the last shot before lunch, but she went to the clothes rack to check that the next couple of outfits were ready to go anyway.

“Viv.”

She glanced over her shoulder, smiling when she caught sight of Jodie standing inside the doorway of the huge studio space.

“Hey. You found us!” she said, waving for her sister to come in.

Jodie glanced around anxiously, clearly worried about getting in the way. It probably looked chaotic to an outsider, but the organized mayhem was second nature to Vivian after five years working as a professional stylist. Taking pity on Jodie, she met her halfway, pulling her into a tight hug.

“Hey, gorgeous,” she said. “Thanks for coming all the way into the city to see me.”

Even though Vivian had been in Melbourne for over two months now, she hadn’t caught up with her sister nearly enough to make up for the ten years Vivian had spent in the U.S.—something Vivian intended to change now that she was home for good. Hence today’s lunch date.

“It was no big deal. This place is pretty amazing.”

Vivian looked around, trying to see her new workplace through her sister’s eyes. Once a factory, the building had been converted into studios and offices in the seventies. She and Robin had managed to snag the penthouse studio, a cavernous space with age-stained floorboards, rough brick walls that had been painted white and a vast wall of metal-framed windows that flooded the room with natural light, which was one of the many reasons she and Robin had gone gaga over it when they’d found it five weeks ago.

“It’s working out really well.”