Nicola Marsh - Sex, Gossip and Rock & Roll

She paced the postage-stamp-size room, tossing around different scenarios in her head of how this could pan out.

She could avoid him other than the work stuff scheduled. She could feign politeness and spend the least amount of time with him possible. Or she could go out there and face Luca as she’d faced every other challenge in her life: with head held high, with bravado, with the confidence she could handle whatever he dished up and more.

Besides, since when had she run from a challenge? Her job presented challenges on a daily basis, from placating irate fans who couldn’t get VIP tickets to ego stroking the latest chart topper and everything in between.

So what was one cocky, charming playboy? She should be able to handle him with her eyes closed. Therein lay the problem: if she closed her eyes, she could envision exactly how she’d like to handle him and it sure as hell wasn’t in a professional manner.

How could she have the hots for someone she seriously wanted to strangle? He’d done nothing but goad her, tease her and throw her off balance since they’d met. And she still had no idea what he was doing here: back in Melbourne, doing Pop a favour when he’d practically ignored his existence until now?

What would a hotshot playboy want with filling in a temp job in the music industry?

Unless Pop was grooming him to take over .

Her eyes flew open as horror lodged in her gut.

No way.

Hector was at the top of his game, a fit seventy and showing no sign of slowing. Dynamic, knowledgeable, an entrepreneur with brains and morals, Hector could rule the music industry in Australia for the next decade. But once the thought had taken form it blossomed into a nasty suspicion that wouldn’t go away.

Luca Petrelli as her boss? She’d rather work for her illustrious charge Storm Varth, Australia’s oldest, crankiest rock star who went through personal assistants as fast as girlfriends.

She had to know why Luca was really here. Now.

Flinging her bedroom door open, she marched out into the lounge room, ready to take him on. And promptly deflated when she caught sight of the meal he’d laid out on the coffee table.

While she’d alternated between fuming and sulking in her room, he’d ducked out to the shops and bought a gourmet picnic, the staggering array of cheeses, cold meats and grilled vegetables making her mouth water.

Her stomach rumbled as the tantalising aroma of garlic-infused Turkish bread and chilli olives wafted over her and she realised how long it had been since she’d last eaten. Breakfast, eight hours ago? She’d been too wound up since then: picking up Luca, the drive here, getting a grip on her crazy behaviour—like allowing him to kiss her.

Unable to resist the lure of food she plopped onto one of the sofas just as Luca stepped out of his bedroom, and she could’ve sworn she salivated more at the sight of him than the antipasto platter.

He’d changed into running shorts that revealed long, muscular legs, and a white T-shirt that set off his tan, and all she could think about was how hungry she was. But not for food.

‘Going for a run?’

His mouth quirked into a crooked smile that made her heart flutter wildly.

‘Yeah, thought I’d leave you to eat in peace.’

She swallowed her disappointment. Probably for the best. She’d confront him better on a full stomach.

‘Okay.’

He stalked towards her and she held her breath as he squatted next to her, his forearm brushing her thigh. ‘Unless you want me to stay?’

She should fob him off, get rid of him so she could strategise how she’d confront him later.

Instead, she found herself nodding. ‘There’s an awful lot of food here, shame to let it go to waste.’

His knowing grin had her wiggling in discomfort. He knew exactly what her concession meant: she wanted him to share this meal with her for no other reason than she liked him. Liked sparring with him, liked his flirting, liked how he made her feel alive.

Letting her hair slide forward to hide her blush, she grabbed a plate and filled it with a selection of olives, salami, Brie and Turkish bread.

‘Thanks for this. It looks great.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Folding his frame into the chair next to her, he helped himself, slathered hummus onto bread and piled it high with semi-dried tomatoes, grilled eggplant and roasted capsicum.

‘Beryl at Reception pointed me in the right direction of a local deli within walking distance.’

‘Bet you smiled and she fell all over you.’

He shrugged, his modest grin endearing. ‘Pity this legendary charm you attribute to me doesn’t work on you.’

Oh, it was working all right. She’d only met him a few hours ago yet she felt strangely comfortable sitting here sharing an impromptu indoor picnic.

She didn’t trust easily, never let anyone get too close, so the fact she’d invited Luca to join her spoke volumes.

‘I’m immune,’ she said, forking olives into her mouth, almost choking when he patted her knee.

‘That’s what they all say.’

‘I bet.’

Her wry smile made him laugh and she joined in, some of her animosity towards him fading. It wasn’t any secret the guy was a world-renowned playboy. Pick up a glossy magazine and Luca’s picture would be in it: strutting the red carpet with an Oscar nominee on his arm, frolicking in the Caribbean ocean, driving a fast car in Monte Carlo.

He never hid who he was. Pity she couldn’t say the same.

‘So what are you doing here?’

‘Thought that would’ve been obvious.’

The corners of his eyes crinkled adorably as he winked. ‘Having dinner with a beautiful woman.’

She snorted. ‘Why are you in Melbourne, filling in on the tour?’

When his smile faded, she pushed. ‘Helping Hector when you haven’t seen him in ten years?’

‘That’s none of your business.’

If he thought his cold, clipped tone would shut her up, he could think again.

‘Actually, it is. Hector’s a friend as well as my boss and I don’t want anyone taking advantage of him.’

‘Funny, that’s what I thought about you when we first met.’

Hating that she had to justify herself to him, she toyed with the food on her plate.

‘Hector’s my mentor. He gave me my first break when I was a teenager looking for a job.’

And a home and a life off the streets, where she’d had to live for a horrific fortnight that haunted her for years afterwards. But Luca was on a need-to-know basis and the depth of her caring for Hector had nothing to do with him.

‘I respect him more than anyone, would never take advantage of him.’

He pinned her with an intimidating glare. ‘And you think I would?’

‘Would you?’ She shrugged, ‘I wouldn’t know, considering you haven’t visited your grandfather in all the years I’ve been around.’

An emotion she couldn’t fathom flickered in his eyes—regret?—before he sat back and draped an arm across the back of the sofa, his forced casualness not fooling her for a second.

‘You’re not going to give up, are you?’

‘Nope.’

He ruffled the back of his hair, the strands curling around his fingers like caramel swirls, making her own fingers ache to delve in.

‘He called me, said he was in a bind, so here I am. Satisfied?’

Not by a long shot. His trite answer hid a truth he wouldn’t divulge to her: she could see it in the tense shoulders, in the rigid neck muscles, the pinch behind his smile.

There was more to him being here and if he had some nefarious plan … The food she’d just consumed roiled in her stomach. If Luca had lied to her, she’d lied to him too. Hector meant more to her than a friend and boss.

He was the man who’d taken a chance on a homeless kid when no one else had given a flying fig. He’d seen past her quick temper and resistance and resentment and opened his home, his heart and his life to her. He’d trusted her and she’d never let him down, so the thought he might not have trusted her with this …