Nikki Logan - My Boyfriend and Other Enemies

Tempted by trouble…

The moment Tash Sinclair sets eyes on family rival Aiden Moore she knows she’s in trouble. His vendetta against her is bad enough, but the fact that she finds Aiden outrageously attractive makes everything a million times worse!

Tash and Aiden clash immediately, but everyone knows that the line between love and hate is paper-thin. As the fireworks fly will Tash and Aiden spontaneously combust—or will Tash do the unthinkable and fall for her own worst enemy? After all, you should keep your friends close, but maybe your enemies the closest of all…!

My Boyfriend and Other Enemies

“There’s something about you…” Aiden went on. “It’s hard to put my finger on.” But he did, tracing it along the top edge of her bodice.

Her throat tightened up immediately and the thing between them surged and swelled as a ball of heat low in her chest. There it was again…the connection. So ready to combust. “Two minutes ago you thought I was sleeping with your father.”

He shuffled closer. “But you’re not. And my relief about that is quite…disturbing.”

“Why relieved?” She didn’t dare ask why disturbed.…

“Because it means I can do this.”

The warmth of the cumulative coats hanging at her back was nothing to the furnace pumping off Aiden as he swooped down to capture her lips with his. They took hers with a certainty that stole her breath.

She wanted to respond to him—his size, his intensity and the sheer overwhelming maleness of him—but something told her if she gave an inch, she’d be lost. Aiden Moore was a man who knew what he wanted and how he wanted it.

And right now, the answer was her and here in the coatroom of MooreCo’s party.

My Boyfriend and

Other Enemies

Nikki Logan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT NIKKI LOGAN

Nikki Logan lives next to a string of protected wetlands in Western Australia, with her long-suffering partner and a menagerie of furred, feathered and scaly mates. She studied film and theater at university, and worked for years in advertising and film distribution before finally settling down in the wildlife industry. Her romance with nature goes way back, and she considers her life charmed, given she works with wildlife by day and writes fiction by night—the perfect way to combine her two loves. Nikki believes that the passion and risk of falling in love are perfectly mirrored in the danger and beauty of wild places. Every romance she writes contains an element of nature, and if readers catch a waft of rich earth or the spray of wild ocean between the pages, she knows her job is done.

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Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Excerpt

ONE

Tash Sinclair stared at the handsome, salt-and-pepper-haired man across the bustling coastal café as he exchanged casual conversation with a younger companion seated across from him. The electric blue of Fremantle harbour stretched out behind them. She should have been all eyes for the older man—Nathaniel Moore was the reason she was here, monitoring from across the café like a seasoned stalker—but she caught her focus repeatedly drifting to the modestly dressed man next to him.

Not as chiselled as his older friend, and closer to Tash’s thirty than Moore’s fifty-odd, but there was something compelling about him. Something that held her attention when she could least afford it.

She forced it back onto the older man where it belonged.

Nathaniel Moore looked relaxed, almost carefree, and, for a moment, Tash reconsidered. She was about to launch a rocket grenade into all that serenity. Was it the right thing to do? It felt right. And she’d promised her mother...kind of.

The younger man reached up to signal the waiter for another round of coffee and his moss-green sweater tightened over serious shoulders. Tash felt the pull, resisted it and forced her eyes to stay on Nathaniel Moore.

It wasn’t hard to see what first attracted her mother to the executive thirty years ago. He had a whole Marlon Brando thing going on, and if she couldn’t guess it for herself, Tash had dozens of diaries, decades of memories and reflections captured in ink, to spell out the attraction. Adele Porter—she’d abandoned the name Sinclair right after Eric Sinclair had abandoned her—might have had trouble living her feelings, but she had no difficulty at all writing them down in the privacy of her diaries once her divorce had come through.

Tash studied him again. Her mother had died loving this man, and he—from what she could tell from the diaries and family gossip only now coming to light—had loved Adele back.

Yet they’d been apart most of their lives.

She might never have thought to look at those diaries—to look for him—if not for the message she’d received from him on her mother’s phone. A fiftieth birthday message for a woman who would never get it made about as much sense as Tash maintaining her mother’s exorbitant mobile phone service just so she could ring and hear her voice message when she wanted to. When she needed to.

Because it was her voice. And apparently that was what they both needed.

Tash’s eyes returned to the man across the café.

Nathaniel’s head came up and he swept the diners vaguely with his glance, brushing past her table, past the nameless woman in dark sunglasses disguising her surveillance. That was when she saw it: the bruising beneath his eyes, the dark shadows in his gaze. The same expression Tash had worn for weeks.

Nathaniel Moore was still grieving, and she would bet all of her best art pieces that he was doing it completely alone.

His colleague pushed his chair back and stood, sliding the empty espresso cups to the side for collection by the passing staff. A small kindness that would make someone’s job that tiny bit easier. He excused himself to Nathaniel and headed towards the restrooms, crossing within feet of her table. As he passed, his eyes brushed over her in the way that most men’s did. Appreciative but almost absent, as though he were checking out produce. A way that told her she’d never be going home to meet his family. That said she might get to wear his lingerie at Christmas but never his ring.

The story of her life. Ordinarily she would steadfastly ignore such a lazy appraisal, but today...the chance to see what colour his eyes were was too good to resist. She turned her head up fractionally as he passed and crashed headlong into his regard. Her breath caught.

How had she, even for a moment, thought he was the lesser of the two men? Not classically handsome but his lips were even and set, his jaw artistically angled. And those eyes...bottomless and as blue as the rarest of the priceless cobalt glass she’d worked with.... They transformed his face. Literally breathtaking.

She ripped her stare away, chest heaving.