Natalie Anderson - The Man She Couldn't Refuse

No, he remained standing, watching as she bestowed her favors—either a direct shot from a pistol into a mouth, or a vial from the belt. Telling himself he couldn’t possibly want her as badly after all this time.

That he couldn’t want her even more .

She’d been a crush. It wasn’t like she’d broken his heart or anything. But she’d given him the push to succeed. The way she’d smacked him down—she’d looked horrified that a guy like him had dared ask her out. Yeah, that had stung. Not that he’d ever let her know it.

Finally she stepped away from them, calling out as she turned away with a flick of her long, luscious hair. “That’s all for a moment, minions. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

A few groaned and walked after her, but it seemed she’d now mastered the art of a polite rejection—a smile, a firm answer, and even more firm look. And then she walked.

But Levi walked too, striding out to circle around his prey so he ended up in front of her, blocking her path back up the beach. She tried to give him the polite smile and that death look. But he was determinedly immune. She wasn’t hurting him this time.

“So…” She stopped about three feet away and tried the up-and-down appraisal she’d leveled that other guy with. “Look at you, after all these years.”

Last time she’d seen him he’d worn nothing but the black jeans and black tee uniform of the café she’d liked to hang out at and where he’d worked insane hours. Now he was in fawn-colored chinos, a pressed white shirt and a navy jacket, looking stupidly country club for the Greek isles. In his defense, he’d had an important meeting with an investor who lived on the island. But now he was back to holiday mode. “What, you think it’s too flash for the beach?”

“Far too flash. You’re overdressed.”

He saw her glance dip to the watch on his wrist. Was it really only money that mattered to her? Status? “Compared to you.” He couldn’t help his sarcastic bite.

Her cocoa eyes narrowed. “What, you think because I’m dressed like this, I must be easy?”

He chuckled. He’d bet everything she’d had plenty of guys trying it on with her dressed like that. “Aren’t you?”

Her chin jerked up. “You can look, but you can’t touch.”

“That’s what lap dancers say.”

“You would know.”

He laughed again, anticipation tightening his gut. “You always were a tease.” He stepped forward. “Flash the eyes. And then deny what you’re offering.”

“I’m not offering what you’re thinking.”

“Why do you think you have hundreds of men hanging around you?”

“They want the free juice.”

“It’s not the juice they want and you know it.”

“No I don’t, but if that’s the case they’re going to be disappointed.”

“Then why look so easy?”

“I’m advertising. I prefer this outfit to a sandwich board.”

“But what is it you’re advertising?” He took one more step nearer—breaching intimate—and lowered his voice. “The soda, or sex?”

“Oh, you do think you’re flash,” she whispered with bite.

“That’s because I am,” he said loftily. “I guess the question is, am I now flash enough for you?”

Chapter Three

James: You’re working at a bar? Watch your drink AT ALL TIMES

Levi Everton had always been far too flash for her. And now, towering over her, looking at her—like that?

Thanks to Victoria so kindly sharing her “Secrets”, Becca currently had the cleavage of a porn queen. But she’d worn her bikini bottoms under the pleated skirt, so she had more fabric covering her than every other person on the beach, aside from him. Yet he made her feel like she was naked. More than that, it was as if he saw right through her. The intensity of his gaze had always gotten to her—he made her feel so damn aware. He emanated sensuality, the embodiment of wicked promise. Her throat dried, her brain fried and her body was on meltdown.

Levi Everton had always been Becca’s Most Wanted.

“Where’s Tess?” he suddenly asked. “She working the other end of the beach?”

“She’s not here.” Becca mumbled briefly.

“No?”

Yeah, no wonder he looked surprised. She and Tess had been glued together since they were six years old.

“She’s back in Sydney,” she explained. “Working in an ad agency, engaged to be married to some superstar banking genius. Hedge funds or something.”

“Just what she’s always wanted.” Levi grinned. “A man with money. You jealous?”

Becca snapped her spine even straighter. “I’m pleased for her. He’s a nice guy. She’s happy.”

“But you don’t have your safety blanket with you now.”

“She wasn’t my safety blanket.”

He looked skeptical. “You never did anything without her.”

“Because we’re friends. ” But Becca didn’t like his comment—because it was true. That was what she was here to change.

“The terrible twosome,” he added. “Making every guy’s life hell.”

“Not true.”

It was because of Tess that Becca had said no to Levi. “Mates before Dates” was the rule she’d obeyed. Part of her had always wondered what she’d missed and now old images flooded her mind—the way he’d stood so close to her that night. Just as he was now.

Close enough to kiss.

Suddenly the summer sun was stifling.

Unnerved, overheated, she pulled a vial of the soda from her belt. She didn’t much like the stuff, but this was an emergency. She felt in danger of suffering heatstroke. She popped the lid and knocked back the full thirty mls in one mouthful, her eyes on him the whole time.

“Well, seeing you’re offering—” he murmured.

Before she could blink he grasped her chin and bent his head. His lips touched hers ever so lightly. She froze as electricity arced from him to her. So gently, so seductively with the one stroke, he licked the last drops from her lips.

There was no way Becca couldn’t let him in and with a soft gasp her lips parted and she lifted her chin higher. She felt the slide of his tongue against hers. This wasn’t a frantic, rushed kiss. He was unhurried, thorough, devastating. She closed her eyes against the harsh blue sky and dazzling sun. Swamped in sensation—heat and salt. It was the stickiness of the soda making her lips cling so hungrily to his, right?

No. It was the kiss she’d fantasized about for so long, that in reality was so much better than she’d dreamed. She rose onto tiptoe as she sensed him pulling back. Stayed there, seeking more as he leaned closer to deepening the kiss again. Her fingers tightened on the bottle, passion ignited. She wanted more than this. She always had.

Slowly, he drew back and subjected her to one of his way too intense, smoldering looks. “So, Easy, are you just starting or about to finish up?”

Chapter Four

George: Hv u bagged yourself a Greek shipping magnate yet?

Man Ban. She was on a freaking Man Ban. She wasn’t supposed to want like this. But how could she not react to that? Now she understood why he was so outrageously confident. He knew how to kiss.

Well, duh. Of course he did. Hadn’t she seen him often enough—kissing his girlfriend of the week? He’d dated the most beautiful, most desirable girls of their town just North of Sydney. All his own age, many older, ringing through the changes as frequently as pro footballers swapped their shirts. But after Becca had said no, he’d never looked in her corner again. And he’d never looked at Tess who sat beside her and who’d been pining for him for so long. She’d been the one dragging Becca back to the café day after day.