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‘And just so you know, I’m nothing like my father. I drive a hard bargain.’
She almost banged her head on the door jamb as his silky voice slid over her. So much for a quick, clean presentation to Papa Mancini. The thought of doing business with Nick, let alone considering whatever bargain he might demand, had her flustered.
And she never got flustered, not any more. Some of the gang at work called her the Ice Princess behind her back and she liked it. Emotions got her nowhere and she’d learned to control her fiery temper along with the rest of her wayward emotions during the long, hard graft in the big city.
As she handed him the folder their fingertips touched and despite the length of time they’d been apart, her heart jackknifed. Wretched organ. She shouldn’t feel anything where Nick was concerned, especially not this strange déjà vu that had her dreaming of stepping closer and running a palm down his bare chest to see if it felt half as good as she remembered.
She took a steadying breath, ignoring the host of unwelcome feelings this man resurrected.
‘There’s a lot we need to discuss. Why don’t we head inside so you can put on some clothes and we can do business?’
She’d made a fatal error in judgement, knew it the second his lips kicked up into a sexy, familiar grin that never failed to take her breath away.
She shouldn’t have mentioned his state of undress, shouldn’t have drawn attention to it, and as if of their own volition her eyes drifted south, riveted to that muscular expanse of temptation less than two feet away.
He was so bronze, so broad, so breathtaking and when she finally dragged her gaze away her knees shook.
‘You sure you want me to get dressed?’
Damn him, he’d called her on her faux pas. A gentleman would’ve ignored her slip-up. Then again, since when had Nick been a gentleman?
Jacaranda’s answer to James Dean had had girls swooning and fathers reaching for shotguns since he’d hit puberty and she was a fool for expecting anything other than bluntness from the guy who’d once rocked her world.
‘Nick, don’t.’
She held up a hand, about as effective as a cockatoo trying to ward off a charging emu.
‘Don’t what?’
He stared at her hand as if he wanted to grab it and she quickly let it drop.
‘Don’t remember the past? Don’t admire the gorgeous woman you’ve become?’
The heat in his eyes scorched her, captivated her, held her spellbound.
‘Or don’t do something as crazy as this?’
Before she could blink, he hauled her into his arms and kissed her.
The kisses they’d shared as teenagers had been exploratory, tender and achingly poignant. Yet there was nothing remotely sweet or gentle about his mouth crushing hers now.
Their lips clashed in a frantic, hungry union, a fusion of tongues, a meshing of desire that left her reeling.
She should’ve been immune to him by now. She should’ve pushed him away and laughed it off as a quick reacquainting peck between friends for old times’ sake.
Should’ve, should’ve, should’ve, as she stood on tiptoes, leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his neck, hanging on as if her life depended on it.
As he softened the kiss, plying her with a skilled precision he’d never had as a young man, her resolve to push him away melted, just as it had ten years earlier when she’d acted on all the bottled-up feelings she’d harboured for him for years.
She’d idolised him all through the endless teenage years and he hadn’t glanced in her direction until she’d turned eighteen, thrown herself at him and been wonderfully surprised when the bad boy of Jacaranda had returned her interest. They’d gone steady for exactly six months before things had come to a head at home and she’d been forced to flee.
She hadn’t told Nick about her humiliation, wanting him to need her for who she was, not following her out of some warped sense of pity. So she’d tried to convince him to run away with her. And she’d failed. Not just failed, he’d pushed her away with a callousness that had shattered her heart.
So what the heck was she doing, kissing him like this?
As her common sense belatedly kicked in Nick broke the kiss, untangling her hands from behind his neck and setting them firmly at her side before glaring at her, as if she’d been the one to instigate their clinch in the first place.
‘Don’t expect me to be sorry for that,’ he said, running a hand through his dark wavy hair, sending it in all directions.
‘I gave up expecting anything from you a long time ago.’
She shrugged, aiming for nonchalant while her insides churned, and ran a finger along her bottom lip, wondering if it looked as bruised as it felt.
He’d kissed her…and she’d liked it!
So much for the Ice Princess. Looked as if her hardfought emotion-free veneer had melted the minute he’d liplocked her.
Nick muttered a curse and turned away from Brittany before he made another blunder and hauled her right back into his arms.
She felt good, better than he remembered and he had a damn good memory when it came to this woman.
She’d been the one for him.
And he’d sent her away.
He’d had no choice, but a day hadn’t gone by when he hadn’t replayed memories of the red-haired hellion who’d captured his heart without trying.
Here she was, just as incredible as he remembered.
And he was drawn to her as uncontrollably as ever. For the spell she’d cast over him had never been simply caused by her blue eyes, porcelain skin and waist-length auburn hair that begged a guy to run his fingers through it. Nor did it have anything to do with her lithe body, with enough curves to turn a guy’s head.
No, Brittany Lloyd possessed a more elusive charm, something that drew him surer than spicy tomato meatballs.
Class.
Something he’d craved his entire life, something he’d set about gaining the last few years but she’d been born with, and no amount of mixing in the right circles or business success could buy what she had, in spades.
‘About this business proposition?’ He turned back to face her, surprised by the vulnerability he glimpsed in her eyes. Hell, it was just a damn kiss, no big deal.
‘All in there.’
She pointed at the Manila folder in his hands, stared at it as if it were a ticking bomb ready to detonate.
He weighed it in one hand, tapped it against his palm, gauging her reaction.
‘Jeez, why don’t you just open it?’ She exploded, just as she used to in the good old days and he grinned.
‘Good to see you’ve still got that fiery temper beneath all that polish.’
He looked her up and down, admiring the subtle changes to her appearance: the gold streaks in her now shoulder-length hair, the svelte body packed with more curves than a racetrack, the elegant wardrobe. As a teenager she’d been pretty. As a woman, she was stunning.
With a confident toss of that luscious hair, she fixed him with a newly acquired haughty grin.
‘Actually, you’re the only one who seems to bring it out in me. Now, back to business?’
Curiosity ate at him. To bring her back here, this precious business deal of hers had to be important. In that case, he wanted to be one hundred per cent appraised of the situation before he started discussing anything with her.
He raised an eyebrow, rattled the folder and gestured at his bare torso. ‘I don’t do business like this. Where are you staying?’
To his delight, she blushed, her gaze lingering on his chest a few seconds too long. ‘The Phant-A-Sea in Noosa.’
Oh, this just got better and better.
‘But I don’t expect you to drive all that way just to meet me. We can do this here’
‘I was heading into town after I’d finished up here anyway. Why don’t I meet you there around five? We can discuss this over drinks.’
‘That won’t be necessary’
‘But it will.’
He leaned closer, her awareness of him evident in the widening of her pupils, the tip of her tongue darting out to moisten her bottom lip, and his gut clenched with how badly he still wanted her.
Maybe he should tell her the truth now and be done with it.
But then, where was the fun in that?
‘Give me some time to clean up, take a look at your proposal and we can discuss it over a Shirley Temple.’
He scored another direct hit with reference to her favourite drink back then, her lips compressing into an unimpressed line.
‘This isn’t some trip down memory lane. This is business.’
His glance strayed to her lips, lush and pouting, before sweeping back to her eyes, registering the shock of arousal that made a mockery of their business.
‘So you keep saying. Business. Ri-i-ight.’
To his surprise, she laughed. ‘You haven’t changed a bit. Still the charmer.’
She was wrong, dead wrong.
He’d changed and, come five o’clock, she’d discover exactly how much.
Propping on the bonnet, he crossed his ankles. ‘Is it working?’
‘Nope, I’m immune to rebel charmers these days.’
‘Pity.’
His glance slid over her, taking in every delicious curve, earning another blush.
‘How long are you in town for?’
‘For as long as it takes.’
She’d gone cold again. Retreating back into the business at hand…
His glance swept the distant cane fields he loved so much, encompassing the sugar cane that was as much a part of him as his Italian heritage, wondering what she’d make of him once she discovered his real business these days.
Would she be impressed? Probably, though in all fairness what he did or where he came from had never been an issue with her.
They’d been friends before lovers in the old days, travelling on the same bus to school every day even though she’d attended the private grammar school and he’d gone to the local high school.
She’d pretended to ignore him at first so he’d done his best to rile her with constant taunts about everything from her shiny shoes to her long red pigtails. And when her fiery temper had sparked her into retaliating by ramming his bike with hers, their friendship had been cemented.
She’d never given a damn about the gaping hole in their social circles: the richest girl in the district hooking up with the Italian working-class farm boy.
But other people had. He’d heard the whispers, the innuendos, about her slumming it with him before she got married to a suitable man.
He’d let it taint what they had, had ended it for good before things got out of control. But he’d never forgotten how dating her had made him feel. Simply, he’d wanted to be a better man for her.
All ancient history, and as he refocused he knew that impulsive kiss was a stupid move.
He didn’t do impulsive any more. Every decision he made was carefully weighed, evaluated and executed with the utmost precision. He wasn’t at the top of his game these days for nothing.
Pushing off the car, he tapped the bonnet.
‘You better get going. Give me a chance to finish up here and meet you later.’
‘Fine.’
He opened the car door for her and watched as she buckled up. Déjà vu hit and an irresistible impulse came over him in spite of all the resolutions he’d just made. He leaned in quickly through the open window.
‘Hey, Red?’
‘Yeah?’
He grinned and tweaked her nose just as he used to. ‘You kiss even better than I remember.’
Before she could respond, he straightened, chuckling at the instant indignation sparking her beautiful eyes as he strode towards the farmhouse.
Chapter Two
BRITTANY pressed her hands to her flushed cheeks as Nick strode away.
The man was a menace.
In less than ten minutes he’d managed to unbalance her, unhinge her and undermine her.
