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‘Oh, you know. Slow lane. Nice and easy.’
She was selling herself short. OK style. Outrageous swimsuit. Daniel had spotted that flower-covered bikini stretching out up and down the pool. She had a good technique. She had a great body.
Daniel had had many an exhausting session in the pool but he’d never felt breathless the way he did that very moment. He felt mightily glad he had that towel draped around his waist. Clinging wet swim shorts weren’t much of a covering and with her standing so close like that his body threatened to show its appreciation of that bikini in the most basic way.
But he knew that already. The jeans and singlet top from yesterday had shown him that. But was it ever magnified today in the scraps of material clinging to her now. That bikini belonged on the beach. Preferably a private one with just him for company and a couple of refreshing drinks because, oh, boy, were they going to need them after…
He blinked. He wasn’t having an erotic fantasy in the middle of a public pool, was he? He blinked again. Yes. Impossible not to when confronted with the vision of temptation before him right now. Her hair hung down her back in a loosely coiled thick wet rope. It gleamed darker when wet. As he’d suspected the day before, the tan was all-over-body. And the body was ripe—lush curves that threatened to spill out over the bikini bra cups. Soft rounded flesh peaked to hard nipples. He knew they were only budded from the cold of the water, but they were begging for a hot mouth to cover them, draw them in and tease them. His.
Frowning, he looked down, determined to shake this surge of inappropriate lust. No cowboy boots this time. Instead he saw perfectly painted toenails. Vixen red. Now that was appropriate.
He needed to get this conversation back on an even keel. ‘I’m going in to the office but I’ll see you at the club later.’
‘Sure. I’ll be there with bells on.’
That wasn’t an image he needed right now. Not when he saw her decorated with tacky Christmas bell earrings on and nothing else.
He hesitated. ‘You’re OK to get back home?’
‘Of course. You’re going straight to work from here?’ She looked surprised. Well, it was only coming up seven a.m. now.
He shook his head. ‘No, I live on the parade. I always get a coffee at the café halfway along, then head home to change and get to work.’ He didn’t know where the suggestion came from; all he knew it was out of his mouth before he’d had the chance to think and keep it shut. ‘Why don’t you come with me and talk me through your plan of attack for the club?’ He added a final bit to ensure he was coming on the boss, not just coming on. ‘I’m assuming you’ve made some plans and have more ideas since last night?’
‘Of course. I have a list to get on with today.’ She wasn’t looking at all comfortable. He realised she was still dripping wet and hadn’t even had the chance to wrap her towel around her. Hell. He was stalling so he could check her out some more in that glorious bikini. Big mistake. Lust city was not his destination this week. He had a case to work and an obligation to fulfil for his cousin.
Mind you, she was hardly snapping up his offer. If anything she looked threatened. Why? She fidgeted—definitely uncomfortable. What was she hiding?
‘Come on. Go get dressed. I’ll get you a coffee. You look like you could use it.’
Her colour had drained, leaving her looking tired. More than a little intrigued, he gave her no chance to refuse. ‘I’ll meet you out the front in twenty minutes.’
She surprised him by being there in fifteen. He’d anticipated she’d be twenty minimum. But, no, she strode out of the change room only a second after he’d exited the men’s. Her hair, still damp, hung in wild waves down her back. He’d said he preferred a more combed look. He’d lied. His fingers itched to rake through the mass, he ached to feel the strands trail across his face.
Her equilibrium appeared to be restored and the edgy look was back in her eyes. The look that said, Cross me and I’ll have something to say about it. He liked to cross—he liked the sparring they’d had so far. Chin high, she raised her brows at him. Accepting her challenge, he turned and headed towards the door, expecting her to walk with him. She did. Satisfaction kicked. Adrenalin burned.
He stretched out at his usual pace—fast. He liked to know where he was going and he liked to get there. Her legs were moving faster, he couldn’t help the sidelong glance to check the way her hips swayed in the tight denim. ‘I’m not going too fast for you, am I?’
‘Generally I prefer to take things a little easier, but I can keep up.’ She shot him a look. ‘I know you’re busy.’
He answered at face value, pretending to ignore the little dig. ‘Time is precious. Often I have my dictaphone with me and work on the walk.’
‘A multitasking man?’ she gushed. ‘You amaze me.’
He grinned. ‘Oh, I have a lot of talents.’
‘I’m sure you do.’
The morning was bright and clear. The sun spread in sparkles on the water, the wind was non-existent and Daniel felt invigorated. He held the door for her at the café. She walked through it as if she’d never expected anything else. Matching him for putting on arrogant appearances.
‘Coffee?’
‘Thank you. Double, black, three sugars.’
He inclined his head and turned to the counter, his face cracking into the broadest grin as soon as he was out of her eyesight. Loose cannon. Utterly. He placed her order and his: triple shot, no sugar—nuclear amounts of caffeine to keep the tired bug at bay.
She sat in the front window of the café and stared out the window. Outwardly one might think she hadn’t been aware of his approaching return, but Daniel was studying her hard and saw her shoulders tighten, saw the way she held her fingers tightly, and then he saw she wasn’t staring out the window at all. She was staring at the reflection of him in the glass. He caught her gaze full on in the mirror-like pane. Gold meeting green. His pace slowed as he neared. Relentless observation, rising temperature.
When he set the cups down it shattered the moment. She turned away from the window and graced him with one of those sharp-edged smiles that assumed politeness. As if that searing stare had never happened.
He sat across from her.
She spoke. ‘So what do you want to know?’
Everything. What she was thinking—about him especially. Raw attraction hung like an invisible fog between them. Did she see it too?
‘Will you be able to pull it off?’
‘Yes. I’m meeting with supply reps this morning and have called the bar crew in for a meeting this afternoon. I’ll sort the DJs once I’ve spoken with the staff. The rest of the clean-up can be done by the team. Once we’re restocked we’ll be good to go. Then it’s a matter of a little promo.’
‘Promotion? You don’t have much time.’
‘The most important thing is word of mouth. If I can get the word into a few select ears, then we won’t have any problem.’
‘And can you?’
She smiled, slow and ultra-confident. ‘Sure.’
CHAPTER FIVE (#ulink_9c2b9540-9d46-5b6c-951c-2f36d6682a02)
You constantly monitor progress
DANIEL’S office had a sweeping view across New Zealand’s seat of power—the parliamentary buildings that stood across the road from the highest court in the country, and one of the finest law schools a quick step down the block. In that small radius, law was developed, made and upheld. And he felt right at home there. But today he could hardly wait to bust a move and head to the other side—where eclectic clothing stores lined up with funky cafés and hip clubs. Where the cool, cosmopolitan crowd from the film and fashion industries hung out—eating, drinking, dancing.
He didn’t get there anywhere near as soon as he would have liked. Meetings dragged and unexpected developments trapped him in the office. It was late into the afternoon when he finally walked down the main street towards the club. The sign said ‘closed’ but the door stood ajar. He heard Lucy’s voice as he climbed the stairs. He slowed so he could listen for a while before she was aware of his presence.
‘What I want is professionalism. I know things have been slack since Lara left but all that changes right now. You saw what happened to the old manager this week. You’ll be next if you don’t lift your game. Uniform—black. Make the most of whatever assets you have but not too unsubtle—we’re not a strip club. Look good but tidy. It’s all about attitude—but by attitude I don’t mean grumpy. We want to keep the customers happy, not turn them off with unsmiling, pouty looks. A little flirty is OK. This is a bar, people. Punters are here for a good time and a little action. Let’s get them in the mood by getting them their drink quickly, and with flair. And quickly is the most important. At the end of the day we want to make money.’
Attitude, huh? Well, she’d know all about that. He smirked at the grumpy comment. He wished the staff had seen her at the pool this morning. He reached the top of the stairs and turned into the bar. Four workers were lined up behind the bar and in front of them stood a selection of drinks—shots, cocktails, a pint of beer. He saw all that in a nanosecond. He couldn’t stop his focus closing in on her.
She stood on the punters’ side of the bar, legs slightly spread, weight evenly distributed. Jeans again—emphasising the curves that had Daniel fantasising. By all appearances she’d been putting them through their paces. Either that or they were all about to get blind drunk together. ‘Last example. Something for the drivers—lemon, lime and bitters.’
They moved at once getting glasses and mixing the drink.
The way she wore those jeans should be illegal. The combination of curvy and length was killing him. He wanted to peel the denim off her and wrap those tanned pins around his waist.
‘Always ask if they would prefer to drink straight from the bottle or in a glass. Many women like to keep the bottle and the cap these days.’
His ears pricked. An interesting point given the case he was working on.
He looked over the staff. Two men, two women. All of them good-looking. The buffest guy dropped the glass and it smashed on the ground. He threw Lucy a look of horror. Daniel’s lips twitched; she certainly had put the fear into him.
‘Sorry, L-Lucy,’ the buff guy stammered.
Lucy turned and saw he was watching. A sarcastic curl to her lips let him in on her secret laughter. He sent her a small smile back and tried to ignore the sweet feeling of conspiracy. He’d spent all his time so far verbally jousting with her and the idea of them sharing something other than conflict felt surprisingly good.
‘Don’t worry, Corey. It won’t take you long to get to grips with it all.’
Who was she kidding? The guy could hardly string a sentence together. Daniel’s hackles rose as Corey flashed Lucy a killer smile and she smiled right back.
‘OK, people.’ She turned and pointed to him. ‘This is Daniel—he’s the one who shut the place down last week and he won’t hesitate to do it again, leaving us all penniless. So let’s be nice to him and do a good job.’
Four pairs of big eyes warily looked him over. He stared back at them, poker-style. He’d spent too many days in court seeing off gang guys to feel much heat from a couple of beautiful bartenders. Lucy spoke again, giving more direction, and he took the opportunity to wander about and take in her changes. Every window was open and on the sills he saw some candles lit under oil burners. He walked over to one and sniffed. Yes. That was her—a warm, faintly exotic spice smell. He smelt it in her hair, her skin. He wondered if all of her was as delicately scented.
When he turned around the others were exiting, avoiding his eye. Lucy strolled over towards him.
He pulled his steamy thoughts in. ‘Thanks for the warm introduction.’
‘Someone has to be bad cop.’
‘I’d have thought you’d enjoy that.’
‘Oh, no. I’m always good.’
Sure she was.
‘You really think that guy’s capable of doing this job?’ He nodded his head after Corey, who’d been last to leave after sweeping away what ominously looked like more than one dropped glass.
‘Daniel, he can carry crates and he looks good.’
‘It’s all about looks?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Of course. Everybody likes to look at something beautiful.’
‘Not everybody sees beauty in the same thing.’
‘Don’t worry. He’s going to please a lot of our customers. And he can actually make a good cocktail.’ She had a smile on her face that he didn’t like. What was it about that guy that had her drooling? ‘We get the customers in the bar, they have beautiful quick service and good music. If the vibe is good, they’ll stay and pay.’
He nodded. It didn’t seem too hard an equation. ‘What are you planning to do with all those? Have your own party?’ He gestured to the line-up of glasses.
‘Unless you want them, they’re going down the drain.’ She tilted her chin—defiance in the stance. ‘It’s not a waste of stock, I needed to see what their skills were like.’
‘I wasn’t worried about that. You don’t want one?’
She frowned. ‘I don’t drink.’
That surprised him. ‘Ever?’
‘Never at work. Never at a bar. I might have a glass of wine at home with people I trust.’
People she trusted? Why? He was about to ask when he heard someone’s high heels clomping up the stairs at pace.
‘Lucy, darling, sorry I’m late.’
Daniel turned and saw the tallest women he’d ever encountered come through the door at breakneck speed. He saw Lucy at an equal pace walk straight into her arms. Whoa. Then he saw her pull away and smile at the woman, and give her the whisper of a wink. ‘Daniel, this is Sinead. She’s the bouncer I was telling you about.’
She. Bouncer. OK. Great.
He looked the bouncer in the eye—almost. He was fractionally taller. Peripherally, he could see Lucy staring at him. Obviously she’d been hoping to shock him. Well, sorry, but he wasn’t some sexist who thought that women couldn’t work in any area. Although for a second there he’d wondered about their relationship. He didn’t like Lucy walking into anyone else’s arms—male or female…
What had he just thought? Daniel replayed the scene in his mind. Re-examined the feeling. Territorial. Possessive. That prehistoric man thing again.
For a moment he was stunned. Then he figured out the answer. A good twentieth century answer—it was no different from his usual approach. He’d sink deep into her softness and sate this full-on lust. He wanted her, he’d have her, and then he’d forget about her. Just because his want was extreme, didn’t mean the rules had to be any different.
This train of thought delighted him so much he gave Sinead a huge smile. She blinked—so did Lucy.
‘Fantastic, Sinead. I’m sure you’ll be fabulous—Lucy wouldn’t recommend you if you weren’t.’
Lucy was picking her jaw up off the floor. Daniel nearly laughed aloud.
Sinead gave him a smile. She too met the beautiful barperson criteria. Daniel started to wonder if they were going to get done for being ugly-ist in their recruitment policy. At least six foot, with long blonde hair that was tied back in a pony-tail, Sinead was already outfitted in the regulation black—a slim, sleeveless top and tight black trousers. Add a mask and she’d be Catwoman.
‘You do martial arts?’
‘Of course.’ She gave him a wide smile. ‘I trained Lucy in the basics a few years ago. That’s how we met.’
Why did Lucy want basic martial arts training? Why did she only drink with people she trusted? Daniel’s curiosity escalated.
Lucy piped up, ‘I’ve managed to convince her she needs an extra job on the weekends.’
‘This is your first job as a bouncer?’ He tried not to panic.
Sinead gave him a wide smile. ‘Sure.’
He couldn’t wait to get Lucy alone. He was going to kill her. OK, maybe he’d kiss her first.
Lucy was looking a tad uncomfortable. As she should. ‘We have some things to work through, Daniel. Are you staying long?’
She was trying to dismiss him? ‘No. I’m here for the afternoon. I’ll go set up on the end of the bar there.’
With great satisfaction he saw the panic in her eyes. He pulled out his laptop again and laid out his files. He found this end of the bar comfortable. He could raise his head and survey the entire room. And it gave him prime view of the length of the bar—he could keep his eye right on her.
Lucy and Sinead sat at a table as far away as possible and spoke in low tones. Should he hassle her about cronyism? She’d clearly hired a friend. He pushed the thought away. If she was the best qualified for the job then fine. Frankly he had other things to be worried about—this case, for one. He just wanted the club open again and functioning as OK as possible. He wished Lara would get back a.s. A.p. so he could hand this sick puppy back to her and walk away from the woman occupying too much of his brain.
He focused on the books, finally able to concentrate knowing the wild one was in his line of sight. He lost himself in the law.
‘You like watching women wrestle, Daniel?’ She leaned over his shoulder and he could smell her spice. He jerked his head up and looked about the bar—Sinead appeared to have gone, leaving Lucy and him alone. His blood pumped a little faster.
‘I like getting my work done in peace.’
