Nicola Marsh - Sex, Gossip and Rock & Roll

‘Another newsflash. I’m not one of your bimbos. I work for your grandfather. I take my job seriously. And I don’t need some goof-off blow-in making trouble for me. Got it?’

She stopped just short of jabbing him in the chest. Pity, he would’ve liked to feel her hands on him again.

‘Loud and clear.’

Her shoulders sagged in relief, before he added, ‘Doesn’t mean I’ll play nice.’

‘You’re a pain in the—’

‘With all this talk of work, doesn’t sound like you have much time for fun?’

‘I have plenty of fun.’

His snort deepened her indignant frown. ‘When’s the last time you had a date?’

She clamped her lips shut.

‘Had sex?’

Her legs followed suit and he laughed.

‘Look, we can do this the hard way or the fun way. My mouth? Has a life of its own. Runs away all the time. I’ll compliment you constantly. I’ll tease you incessantly. I may even kiss you on occasion but it’s harmless. All good, clean fun.’

It was her turn to snort but not before he’d caught the gleam of excitement making the gold flecks in her green eyes glow.

‘No kissing.’

He paused for a moment, pretended to think. ‘Sorry, can’t promise that.’

‘You’re impossible! ‘

‘But you like me anyway.’

Their gazes locked and the car’s tight confines shrank further. He could smell her light floral perfume, could see the indecision warring with excitement in her eyes, could sense her capitulation as her shoulders relaxed and she leaned forward a fraction.

For once, he kept his big mouth shut, enjoying the electricity buzzing between them, savouring the promise of sparring, sparks and sex.

And there would be sex, he had no doubt. They had some serious chemistry going on, the kind you couldn’t ignore.

Throw in the fact they’d be together twenty-four-seven and it was inevitable.

He could hardly wait.

‘There’s nothing I can say that’ll make you back off, is there? ‘

‘No.’

With an exasperated sigh, she shook her head. ‘Having you tag along on this tour goes way beyond the call of duty. And I have to put up with grief to boot?’

She revved the engine, the sound of the firing cylinders a joy to a guy’s heart.

‘Go on, admit it.’

‘What?’

‘You’re having fun already.’

With another neck-twisting wrench on the steering wheel she pulled back onto the road.

‘Does it look like I’m having fun?’

‘Either you’re trialling for the Grand Prix or you’re driving like a maniac because you’re ticked off.’

She threw in another rev for good meas ure.

‘Okay, got the message loud and clear. I’ll shut up ‘til we get to Ballarat.’

Her hands instantly relaxed on the steering wheel.

‘How long?’

‘An hour, maybe ninety minutes in this traffic,’ she said, her tone smug.

He let her have her little victory for now. She’d soon learn he didn’t always do as he said.

CHARLI cranked up the stereo as they left the city traffic behind, hoping Luca would get the hint. She’d tried telling him to his face; it had done nothing. Maybe the subtle approach would work better?

Yeah, and maybe he’d shut up for the duration of the tour. Absolutely no chance.

Ever since he’d kissed her she’d avoided looking at him; couldn’t look at him, really, not without staring at his mouth. And if she did that. She could verbally flay him all she liked but her eyes couldn’t lie. One look and he’d know exactly how his kiss affected her: rattled beyond belief.

Forget the fact she hadn’t had a date in nine months let alone a hint of a smooch. Abstinence couldn’t explain her irrational, overwhelming urge to keep kissing him until they were breathless, the urge to run her hands all over him, the urge to tear her clothes off and straddle him and let him prove to her if half of what she’d read about his playboy reputation was true.

A car overtook them on the freeway, the four-wheel-drive’s tail-lights seeming to wink at her and she blinked. Even damn inanimate objects were laughing at her expense.

How stupid could she be? The kiss meant nothing, was more of the same teasing he’d been doing ever since she’d had the misfortune to knock on his hotel door.

For some unknown reason he’d wanted to rile her the second he’d opened the door to her wearing a towel and that infuriatingly cocky smile. So far, he’d done a good job of it. He’d flirted with her, insulted her and kissed her, all within the first hour. Didn’t bode well for the rest of the fortnight.

‘We nearly there yet?’

‘What are you? Four?’

Slowing to let a truck pass, she smirked. ‘Silly me, that’s just your IQ.’

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that rippled over her like soft velvet.

‘I love it when you’re feisty.’

‘I love it when you’re silent.’

She turned up the music, unconsciously humming along with her favourite pop ballad. Of course he had to go one better, singing along in perfect tune, the lyrics sounding like erotic pillow talk tripping from his lips.

She gulped, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tight her knuckles stood out. A hot flush started somewhere in the vicinity of her belly and spread upwards and outwards, burning her up from the inside out as he crooned about touching and pleasure and all night long.

‘Interesting taste in music,’ he said when the song thankfully ended and she sighed in relief.

‘I like pop. Didn’t peg you for a fan, though.’

‘Why’s that?’

‘Don’t guys go in for heavier stuff?’

She jumped when he reached across and squeezed her hand on the gear stick.

‘Thought you’d have figured out by now, I’m not your average guy.’

‘No, you’re more annoying than most.’

Though that was a lie. Sure, he’d done his best to wind her up when they first met, was still doing it in fact, but he wasn’t annoying so much as intriguing. And that was what made her mad; that she’d been all set to dislike him, and every time he opened his mouth only reinforced the fact, but she couldn’t.

He was the first guy in ages to pique her interest, to make her want to retaliate. The first guy to make her body tingle from top to toe, to make her skin prickle with awareness, to make her yearn for more than a teasing brush of his lips .

‘Why don’t you admit it?’

Grateful she had to focus on the freeway, she didn’t need to look his way to hear the laughter in his voice.

‘Admit what?’

‘That I’m growing on you.’

‘Yeah, like fungus.’

‘Now who’s the child? Didn’t that one get used around third grade?’

‘Should be about your level, then.’

She saw him recline his seat out of the corner of her eye and wriggle around to get comfortable before clasping his hands behind his head.

‘You know, I’ve been around the block a few times. Dated princesses, movie stars, models. But you, you’re something else.’

She didn’t know if he’d just complimented or insulted her but the thought of him being with all those women served as a wake-up call. He’d said it himself. He’d been around and no way was she foolish enough to become another string on his guitar.

‘So you’ve slept around a lot. Doesn’t make you a good judge of women.’

‘Who said anything about sleeping around?’

She blushed, hating how she’d have to dig herself out of this one.

‘You did—’

‘I said dating. Not the same thing. Do you sleep with all the guys you date?’

‘‘Course not!’

Besides, she’d have to date to have a chance at sleeping with them and she’d been so busy these past few years, proving herself, proving to Hector he hadn’t made a mistake taking in a scruff like her, she’d had limited down time. When she had dated she’d chosen guys so removed from her past that once they got beyond the first few dates she found they had nothing in common.