Kathryn Ross - Untamed Bachelors - When He Was Bad... / Interview with a Playboy / The Shameless Life of Ruiz Acosta

‘Fine. Fine.’ Amazed that his eyes had closed—not surprising with the lack of sleep he’d had over the past few nights—he blinked them open and pasted a reassuring smile on his lips. ‘All under control, Joanie.’

Moving past reception, he skirted desks, design boards, pot plants, greeting staff along the way.

‘Matt.’

He turned at the familiar sound of Yasmine’s voice. As usual, she looked stunning in a slim grey suit with a modest scrap of white lace at her cleavage, her raven-black hair tied back in a tidy knot. He admired her clean-cut lines from an architectural viewpoint.

As a friend, he valued her inner qualities. ‘Hi, Yasmine.’

The love of Yasmine’s life worked as a geologist at the Mount Isa mines in Queensland and was sometimes away from home for weeks at a time. She and Matt often found themselves unattached at work functions and had forged a friendship. If either had a problem, they used each other as a sounding board.

Didn’t mean he wanted to discuss his current problem, but he had a gut feeling he was about to be interrogated as she rounded her desk and accompanied him towards his corner office with its spectacular one-hundred-and-eighty-degree city views.

‘Well, aren’t you the man?’ she said with a smirk, the moment they entered.

He closed his door. Firmly. ‘Last time I looked, yes. You have something you want to say, Yaz?’

‘You and that little slip of a girl against the wall on Saturday night,’ she said cheerfully. ‘Then dashing after her that way. Hmm.’

‘I wasn’t dashing .’ He felt a prickle between his shoulderblades and rolled his shoulder. He didn’t pursue women. Didn’t have to. ‘I was making sure she got away safely.’ Hell . He set his laptop on his desk with a thunk , discarded his jacket and laid it carefully across the back of his leather chair. Was it him or was the thermostat set too high in here? ‘No law against that, is there?’

She slid her elegant backside onto the corner of his desk. ‘No. But…you? You’re usually so—’ she waved an airy hand ‘—totally cool and sophisticated and together with women.’

When he didn’t reply—because right now he really couldn’t think of a comeback—she cocked her head. ‘So, what’s her name?’

‘Ellie.’ He switched on his laptop, drumming his fingers on the desk while it booted up. ‘Fancy a coffee? It must be break time.’

‘Just had one, thanks. Are you seeing her again?’

He shot her a dark look. ‘As fate would have it, turns out she works for Belle, so the answer’s yes, I’m going to be seeing her again.’

‘Fate.’ She arched a smooth dark brow at his choice of words, eyes twinkling. ‘Serious stuff.’

He shrugged it off. ‘Not at all. Just one of life’s quirky coincidences.’

‘Of all the nightclubs in all of Melbourne…’ she purred, leaning closer. ‘Yep. Has to be fate.’

‘For heaven’s sakes, Yaz, give it a rest.’

As always, undeterred by his scowl, Yasmine swung one long leg while she twirled her fingers through a container of paperclips. ‘Are you bringing her to the staff do?’

‘Staff do?’

‘Have you forgotten? You approved the idea. Twenty-first of June—next Monday night for those who forget to look at the calendar. Formal or fancy dress or Celtic, yet to be decided. A money raiser. Charity to be determined by the boss.’ She tapped his chest. ‘That would be you.’

He grunted. Someone had come up with the idea in February for a winter solstice celebration as a morale booster, he remembered, but he’d been working in Sydney for most of this year and it had slipped his mind.

‘So are you going to bring her?’ she asked again.

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

Because…? He preferred the idea of something more intimate for their first date, not a roomful of colleagues garnering Ellie’s attention. When he and Ellie got together—and they would—he didn’t want an audience. ‘We’re not involved.’

‘Yeah, I noticed,’ Yasmine said dryly. ‘Bring her anyway. Make Belle happy.’

It would be a way to keep his word to Belle that he was looking out for Ellie. ‘We’ll see,’ he muttered, more to shut Yasmine up than any promise on his part. But for now…He clicked open a folder on his computer. ‘Moving on to more important matters,’ he said, ignoring Yasmine’s grin. ‘Bring me up to speed on the Dalton project.’

‘Six beers, two tequilas, one rum and Coke,’ Ellie recited to herself, sliding the requested drinks order onto her tray. She started towards the table of rowdy guys, wishing her black skirt was a few centimetres longer.

The atmosphere inside the club oozed sweat, cheap aftershave and testosterone. A lone pole-dancer was doing her thing to bad music over a poor sound system. According to Ellie’s fellow waitress, Tuesday night wasn’t usually busy, but an entire football team had turned up after training and were jostling for viewing space.

Her throat felt scratchy with the constant strain of having to raise her voice over the noise. They were one staff member short. Sasha, who’d arranged the shift for Ellie and was supposed to be here to help her through the first night, hadn’t turned up. Ellie suppressed her annoyance. Perhaps Sasha was sick, but she should have phoned.

Well, she was doing just fine tonight without her help, thank you very much. Only a few more hours with Sleazy in the cheap business suit mentally undressing her from his corner table and she was out of here.

She offloaded the beers, carried the rum and Coke to Sleazy’s table.

‘How about a nightcap when you finish up here?’ he asked her breasts as she set the glass down.

‘No, thanks.’ Booze had made him more obnoxious than he’d been an hour earlier.

‘Come on, babe. We’d make a good team, you and me.’

‘I don’t think so.’ She turned to leave but he grasped her wrist. She wrenched her arm away, toppling his drink. Liquid splashed the table, sloshing over the edge and onto his shiny polyester trousers.

‘Everything okay, here, Ellie?’ A familiar deep voice behind her.

She darted a look over her shoulder, glimpsed Matt and groaned inwardly. With relief, with embarrassment. ‘How long have you been here?’ And how come she hadn’t seen him arrive?

‘Long enough.’ Then to Sleazy, he leaned low and murmured, ‘I suggest you leave while you still can.’

Sleazy glared at Ellie a moment as if deciding to make something of it, then rose. ‘You’ll pay for this,’ he muttered, swiping at the damp patch on his leg. He didn’t give eye contact to Matt, she noted, but he sent Ellie a final glare, then pushed his way towards the bar.

‘You okay?’ She felt Matt’s hand at her back but shrugged it off before she did something stupid—like arch against it and purr. ‘I’m fine. Please let me get on with my job.’

He stepped back. ‘Fine. Get on with it.’

His clipped reply reminded her that she’d been prickly and ungrateful—a survival mechanism, but rude nonetheless—so she followed up with, ‘Would you like a drink? On the house.’

He nodded. ‘Mineral water. Thanks.’

She watched him return to an empty table on the far side of the room, away from the tables she was serving, and flick open a folder he’d left there. His dark eyes met hers again, sending ripples of awareness down her spine.

Smoothing her skirt, she headed to the bar to place his order and paid for it herself. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had bothered to come to her rescue. Even if she hadn’t needed it. She reminded herself she didn’t need anyone, particularly Matt McGregor, stamping all over her independence.