Susan Stephens - Untamed Bachelors

So when she came by with his drink a few moments later, she couldn’t help herself. ‘There are much better strip clubs in town, as I’m sure you—’

‘Yes. I know.’ He studied her a moment, an almost-grin lurking around his mouth. Then picked up his glass, raised it to her, took a long slow swallow. ‘But the evening’s young yet.’

Something hot quivered low in her belly, prompting her to say, ‘Unless the stripper’s a personal friend of yours?’ She saw his eyes narrow and leaned towards him a fraction. ‘You’re checking up on me,’ she accused. ‘Did you think I was lying to you this morning?’

‘Would you lie to me, Ellie?’ His gaze slid to her lips. ‘About how you feel, for instance?’

Her pulse jumped up a notch and she took a swift step back. Away from the incredible aura he seemed to exude. ‘Why would I?’

‘Only you can answer that.’ Still watching her, he took another swallow from his glass.

‘Listen, I don’t need a minder—’

‘Belle’s idea.’

She huffed an impatient breath. ‘I’m sure she didn’t mean for you to intrude on my private life.’

‘I have a moral obligation since I don’t consider this a safe working environment. And hasn’t that been proven justified?’

She looked away, only to catch the disapproving eye of the bar manager. So it seemed it was okay to be sexually harassed and threatened but chatting with the customers was frowned upon. ‘I need to get back to work.’

He set his glass down, flicked an eye over his folder, then drew out his phone. ‘And I need to make a call.’

She knew Matt was there, was conscious of his eyes following her for the next couple of hours, even though whenever she glanced his way he had his nose buried in his folder or was speaking into his mobile phone. At one point he was smiling while he talked and she just knew he wasn’t talking business—unless it was funny business. And that, she told herself, was none of her business.

It was sometime after midnight when the manager paid her at the end of her shift and told her that her services were not required. He told her there’d been a complaint, that she’d come on to a customer, then deliberately spilled his drink when he’d knocked her invitation back. So the manager had docked her the cost of the drink for the damage that the customer had caused.

Resentment spiked through her bloodstream. ‘That’s not how it was and you know it.’ Giving him the best evil eye she could manage, she stuffed what was left of her night’s pay into her bag, buttoned her coat with quick jerky movements. ‘You can take your lousy job and stick it in a very dark place,’ she snapped out on her way to the nearest exit.

Ellie was accustomed to people expecting her to be an easy walkover. Usually she fought back. She could have argued her case; she was the injured party here. Tonight, as she manoeuvred her way through testosterone city, all she wanted to do was get out of this pit and lay her throbbing head on a pillow and sleep for a week. Was she coming down with a bug?

She shook it away. Not going to happen. She had to rise and shine early tomorrow. At this point she really, really needed Belle’s part-time job. And now it came with an additional problem…Speaking of which, did she say goodbye to Matt or what? Would he think she was angling for a lift home? Or more? She glanced to where he’d been sitting moments earlier but he’d left. Without a word.

Good, she told herself as she veered back towards the exit. One less problem. Tomorrow morning was way soon enough to be interacting with him. She wasn’t in the mood to deal with complications. And despite his views about their non -relationship, Matt McGregor was complication in flashing lights. Big red warning ones.

Doing his gentlemanly duty as he saw Ellie preparing to leave, he exited the bar and waited for her outside.

She’d told him she wanted to be left alone, but safety concerns aside, knowing where she’d be this evening had been too much of a temptation for Matt to ignore. He’d wanted to see her again, simple as that. He stepped towards her the moment she appeared. ‘I’ll walk you to your car.’

Her head swivelled towards him and her eyes widened. ‘Why are you still here?’

The damp air teased her hair so that it curled in wisps around her face. She must have washed it again because it was lighter—honey blonde with only a streak or two of pink—but the austere light from the street lamp turned it silver-white, making her appear smaller, more fragile.

‘You think I’d leave you here at this time of night without ensuring your safe journey home?’ Wherever that might be.

She pulled her coat tighter, straightened her spine, hitched her bag higher. ‘I can take care of myself.’

‘Yeah, right. Alone, past midnight, in this seedy area. Where’s your car?’

‘I don’t own a car. And I happen to live in this seedy area.’ He didn’t miss the light of contempt in her eyes.

Along with her list of criticisms, did she think him prejudiced? He couldn’t decide whether it amused or annoyed him. ‘How are you getting home?’

‘Public transport.’

‘My car’s across the road. I’ll drop you off.’

‘It’s—’

‘Non-negotiable.’ He placed a silencing finger against her lips.

Heat, as her sharp exhalation of breath streamed over his fingertip. Friction, as his finger drifted lightly over her lips. Desire, sharp and swift, as her lips parted the tiniest bit. In surprise? Or something else? He couldn’t be sure, and for a pulse beat or two he thought she might yield and open further. But she remained completely still.

‘Non-negotiable, Ellie.’ He pressed his thumb to her lower lip, watching her eyes darken to an intense charcoal in the dimness. ‘So get used to the idea quickly.’

ELLIE didn’t move, didn’t pull away, even as a throng of raucous patrons spilled from the bar and ambled past, their voices raised in some tuneless song. The night breeze, pungent with the sting of exhaust fumes, wrapped around them. In the distance an alarm wailed. He wanted to press his momentary advantage, replace his thumb with his mouth and relive that first kiss.

He could almost smell the desire on her skin, but he didn’t push it. She stepped back, eyes flicking away, as if giving him eye contact might betray her. She scanned the row of parked cars. ‘Let me guess—yours is the champagne-tinted convertible.’

‘Sorry to disappoint—it’s the little bent and black ninety-six Ford.’ He couldn’t resist adding, ‘My Ferrari’s in Sydney.’

Her laugh was spontaneous and unexpected and she seemed as surprised as he. ‘I knew it,’ she said with a half-smile. ‘Red?’

‘Is there any other colour?’ With a light hand at her back, he steered her across the road.

Ellie practically fell onto the seat, willing her pulse to settle down while Matt rounded the car. Good Lord, just that single thumb print on her lower lip had turned her inside out. If he hadn’t stopped—oh, she did not want to think about it. He made her weak. Made her want…what she couldn’t have.

By the time he’d climbed into his seat she’d managed to halfway calm herself. She directed him to a street about a kilometre away. She spent a moment studying the car’s interior rather than the width of Matt’s more than capable hands on the steering wheel, focusing on the engine’s rough-throated purr rather than the scent of clean masculine skin.

But as they neared her apartment her breathing changed for very different reasons. And with every passing moment the band beneath her breastbone tightened.

She’d always sensed Heath’s low opinion of her previous apartment even though he’d never voiced it. As if her living conditions reflected her worth as a human being. She might have been in love with him but her self-confidence and sense of self-worth had taken a battering and never fully recovered. Compared to this dump it had been a palace.