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‘Oh, er, goodnight.’ He looked up abstractedly. His car, for some reason, didn’t want to start. He was both embarrassed and angry—and so would she have been if she’d bought such an expensive car and it failed her.
She turned back to him. ‘Can I help?’
Roger had blond hair and blue eyes and was slightly overweight, but his charm made people forget it. He was like a Greek god, some of the girls claimed. Those blue eyes looked at her now scornfully. ‘You’re a woman.’
‘It doesn’t mean I don’t know anything about engines.’ Lara tossed back. Being the only girl in a family of boys she had spent a good part of her life watching them pull cars apart and put them back together, helping whenever they’d let her. She knew as much as any man about the way a car’s engine worked.
Roger Lennox frowned. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Of course I am. Open your bonnet.’ She didn’t dare to think that he would, but amazingly he did as she asked, although his frown deepened and she could see that he wasn’t sure it was wise.
And when he got out to inspect what she was doing, when one thigh brushed against hers, Lara felt the full impact of his sexuality. It was what every girl in the building fantasised over. ‘You sure you know what you’re doing?’ he asked.
‘I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t.’ She tried to sound nonchalant but it was difficult. He was attractive without a doubt, and he did quicken her heartbeats, but more importantly he was part of her strategy and her hands trembled as she checked that everything was as it should be. ‘Would you like to try it again?’ she asked huskily, mentally crossing her fingers that it would start. She wanted to make an impression, not a fool of herself.
The engine sprang into life at the first turn of the key. Roger Lennox looked at her disbelievingly as she appeared from behind the bonnet. ‘What did you do?’ It was clear he had never tinkered with a car engine in his life.
Lara shrugged. ‘The distributor lead had worked loose.’
‘I’m impressed. I didn’t know women knew about these things. Let me give you a lift home, it’s the least I can do.’
Triumph welled in her. She couldn’t have orchestrated this any better if she’d tried. She dropped the bonnet, wiped her hands on a tissue, and slid into the seat beside him.
‘Where are you?’ Bryce Kellerman’s deep voice broke into her thoughts.
Sitting beside another man. Ruining my life.
Roger Lennox had sent her flowers the next day, causing a furore in the office. It had been good manners, or so she told herself, to go and thank him. One thing had led to another. Before long he’d asked her out. They got married eight weeks later.
She had achieved her dream.
‘I was thinking about Roger,’ she said quietly, ‘about the day I met him.’
‘Ah!’ It was as though he saw everything.
‘I thought I’d met the man of my dreams.’
‘Love at first sight?’
Hardly, when it was Roger’s bank balance she’d been interested in, but she wasn’t admitting that. It was too embarrassing by far. She’d heard the saying that money didn’t buy happiness, hadn’t believed it, but now knew it was true. She’d made a foolish mistake. ‘I thought so,’ she answered weakly.
‘So what went wrong?’
Still more questions. If she wasn’t careful he’d end up hearing her life story. She’d never met a man who showed this much interest. She lifted her shoulders. ‘This and that. Actually he was a control freak.’ And that was putting it mildly. Roger had ruled her life.
‘And I can see that you’re not the type of girl who likes to be controlled,’ he said with a measured smile. ‘In my opinion no one should have their spirits repressed. I would never do that, especially to a woman. I like them feisty.’
And Lara Lennox was most definitely feisty. Bryce loved the way her eyes shot daggers, the proud tilt of her beautiful face, the way her tantalising body stiffened and rejected him.
He wanted to break through those defences; he wanted to show her that not all men were the same. At least her husband hadn’t repressed her altogether. She’d had enough strength to get out of a marriage that wasn’t working.
When Helen had invited him to this party he hadn’t been sure that he’d wanted to meet her niece. Helen was an inveterate matchmaker: she’d been trying for years to find him a wife, and he was tired of her game.
If and when he ever married he wanted the girl to be of his own choosing. He wanted to make quite sure that she wasn’t interested in him for all the wrong reasons. He’d had a few near misses; he’d allowed himself to be fooled by a pretty face and a willing body; he’d even almost married on one occasion, only finding out in the nick of time what she was like. He was beginning to wonder whether all women were the same: whether a rich, successful husband was their prime target in life.
This girl sitting beside him was the most intriguing he’d met in a long time. Maybe it was because she was so anti-men that he found her challenging. Maybe because she was so hauntingly beautiful. And he hadn’t been lying when he’d said her skin was like the petals of an English rose.
He wanted to touch, to stroke, to feel its silken, velvety texture. The sun had never burnt it; it had never felt the incredible heat that could do so much damage here in Australia.
‘Tell me,’ she said now, ‘have you ever been married?’
He didn’t want to talk about himself; he wanted to talk about her. He wanted to find out everything. Helen had been vague, and even Lara seemed disinclined to give much away. ‘No,’ he answered. ‘I’ve never found the right girl.’
‘Really?’ Her deep blue eyes widened. ‘I find that difficult to understand.’
Did that mean she was interested in him, despite her apparent indifference? He felt a sudden hormonal surge. And then berated himself because he knew nothing about her. For all he knew she could be the same as the rest. ‘It’s not because I’ve been short of choice,’ he said shortly. ‘There’s simply been none whom I’ve wished to marry.’
‘You have very exacting standards, is that it?’ she asked, her fine eyebrows delicately arched.
‘I suppose so.’
‘And you’ve never found Miss Perfect?’
‘Not yet.’ But maybe today he’d got lucky. If she took after her aunt then he’d have no complaints. Helen was a wonderful, caring woman. Money didn’t mean anything to her. She always said that it was a person’s mind and attitude that counted.
‘This is a beautiful spot,’ said Lara. ‘So different to what I’m used to. I live in a town with no river or lake for miles. Water is so relaxing, don’t you think?’
If you sat and looked at it, yes, he supposed. But not when you had an exciting girl by your side. ‘Some people find it that way,’ he agreed.
‘But you don’t?’
‘You know what they say about familiarity.’
‘I’d never get fed up of this. Nor Darling Harbour. My aunt took me there the other day. I don’t know where it got its name, but it’s very apt. I didn’t want to come away.’
‘I’m glad you like it. One of our early governors, Sir Ralph Darling, renamed it after himself. The Aborigines called it Tumbalong.’ He would have liked to take her there but knew it was too soon. She was being nice for her aunt’s sake, but after tonight—would she want to see him again?
For the first time in his life Bryce Kellerman felt unsure of himself.
CHAPTER TWO
FIVE days had gone by since the party and Lara had heard nothing from Bryce Kellerman. To her dismay and increasing horror she felt disappointed, and couldn’t understand why since she’d made it plain that she didn’t want to see him again. Wasn’t she better off without a man in her life?
Helen also commented on Bryce’s lack of communication. ‘Perhaps he’s busy. We’ll give him a few more days and then invite him to dinner.’
Lara hadn’t mentioned Bryce to her aunt so she knew that this was Helen up to her tricks. But even so, the thought of seeing him again sent her heart into overdrive. It also annoyed her that he’d caused a chink in her carefully erected armour. She’d need to be careful.
As it happened Helen didn’t need to invite him. The next day, when they got back from a sightseeing trip, there was a message for Lara on the answering machine. ‘I’d like to take you out for a meal tonight,’ Bryce said, his deep, gravelly voice sending a shiver down her spine. ‘I’ll pick you up at eight. Any problems, give me a ring.’
Although her aunt was all of a fluster, Lara played it down. ‘I don’t want to go; I don’t want to get involved,’ she declared firmly.
Helen shook her head. ‘Bryce will never hurt you.’
Maybe not! But why take risks? And yet even as she thought this Lara heard herself say, ‘I suppose one date will do no harm.’
‘It will give you a chance to get to know him properly,’ reassured the older woman with a pleased smile. ‘If I was twenty years younger I’d marry him myself.’
‘Who’s talking about marriage?’ demanded Lara, eyes sparking indignation.
Helen grinned. ‘I simply wanted to let you know what a good catch he is.’
‘I came here to get over one man, not get hooked by another,’ she retorted, cross with her aunt for letting her imagination work overtime.
But when Bryce came, looking devilishly handsome in grey linen trousers and a blue short-sleeved shirt, Lara couldn’t stop her heart quickening. Her head told her not to get involved, to be wary every step she took, but there was no escaping the fact that he was an exciting male who aroused her in every way possible.
Not that it meant anything. Roger had thrilled her in the first few months of knowing him, and she really had thought she was in love—until she’d discovered what he was like. Her husband had stifled her feelings and emotions. He had used her. He’d made love when he’d wanted to, when he’d felt like it, her own needs and desires never entering into it. For all she knew Bryce could be the same. She daren’t risk it.
For her date Lara wore a pale blue sundress with shoestring straps and a ballerina-length skirt, her corn-gold hair tied back in a blue scrunchie, wisps of fringe softening her hairline. Her only concession to make-up was a touch of lip gloss and mascara. She didn’t need anything else. Already her colour was heightened, her eyes bright with anticipation.
Bryce’s smoky grey eyes made a slow, thorough inspection. ‘You look stunning,’ he said softly.
Lara swallowed and tried to appear nonchalant. ‘This old thing, I’ve had it for years.’
‘Whatever, the colour suits you. Hi, Helen, I promise to take good care of your niece.’
‘I know you will,’ said Helen with a fond smile. ‘Lara has a key so you don’t need to bring her back early on my account.’
Lara frowned. ‘I will be early, Helen.’
‘As you like, dear. Now you two run off and enjoy yourselves.’
Bryce’s car was an old black Ford and as he opened the door for her Lara couldn’t help remembering the day she had climbed into Roger Lennox’s car. She’d been so pleased with herself. Nothing had warned her of what was to come. She was more wary now, more attuned to the way a man’s mind worked. She had no intention of making the same mistake twice.
To her delight Bryce took her to Darling Harbour, to a seafood restaurant overlooking the water. It was magical. A myriad lights shone around them—from the buildings, from the boats, from reflections in the water, from the indigo, star-hung sky. It was perfect.
A night for romance! Lara shivered at the thought.
‘Tell me about this guy who let you down so badly.’ Bryce had ordered pre-dinner drinks and they’d chosen from the extensive menu.
She closed her eyes, not really wanting to talk about anything that would spoil this moment in time.
But Bryce was insistent. ‘You said he was a control freak. In what way?’
Lara shrugged. ‘He was a wealthy man but not a generous one. I had to account to him for breathing almost. He chose my friends, what I wore, what I did. He sold my car and kept making excuses for not buying me another, so I was trapped in the house unless he took me out. We lived miles from anywhere, not even on a bus route.’
‘And you had no inkling before you married him?’
‘I was swept off my feet. He owned the company I worked for. He indulged me; I was flattered; I was blinded by love.’ Change that to greed, she added silently, and it would be about right. She hadn’t been able to see any further than the pound signs. It was something of which she was now deeply ashamed. On the other hand it could have worked out, if Roger had been different. ‘Now it’s over and I don’t want to talk about him. It’s a part of my life I’d prefer to forget.’
‘Do you still love him?’
‘No!’ Lara’s answer was swift and fierce.
Bryce crooked a dark brow. ‘It seems to me that you’re not letting yourself forget him. He’s there all the time, haunting your thoughts. You need a friend, someone to take you out of yourself, someone to confide in, laugh with, and enjoy the real pleasures of life.’
‘And you’re proposing that you should be my friend?’ she said with derision. It was laughable. Bryce Kellerman didn’t want to be her friend. Her lover perhaps. It was there in the way he looked at her, the way his eyes devoured her body. Were they the pleasures he was talking about? Friend? Huh! Who was he trying to kid?
‘I am,’ he said, his tone serious, ‘if you’d let me.’
But it would be hellishly hard. How could he be a platonic friend to a woman as sexy and desirable as Lara Lennox? It would be well-nigh impossible. He’d spent the last few days in some kind of hell. Should he see her again or shouldn’t he? He’d been let down so many times that he was almost afraid to let himself care for anyone else. It was an odd feeling to be afraid when he’d made such a success of his business life. But for Lara’s sake he was prepared to give it a go. She needed her faith restored in mankind.
At least that’s what he kept telling himself.
She looked at him long and hard, her blue eyes probing his. ‘I’ve never had a male friend. I didn’t think it possible. I always thought that sex would rear its ugly head somewhere along the line.’
Ugly? Sex? It was the most wonderful and natural thing in the world. Obviously her husband had screwed her up on that score as well. He drew in a steadying breath, hiding the anger he felt, the questions he still wanted to ask.
‘That’s where you’re wrong,’ he said. ‘Lots of women have male friends.’
‘I don’t know any.’
‘You don’t have to know them, Lara. Simply take my word for it. So what’s your answer?’ He held his hand out across the table. ‘Friends?’
He thought she was going to refuse, had virtually resigned himself to never getting to know this stunning woman any better, decided he’d be better off for it, when slowly, and with obvious reluctance, and a great deal of courage, she slid her hand into his.
‘Friends,’ she agreed huskily. ‘Nothing more.’
‘It’s a deal.’ He enclosed her hand in both of his, feeling a desperate need to lean across the table and kiss her, seal their pact properly. Instead he looked deeply into her troubled eyes. What a beautiful shade of blue they were, cobalt perhaps, rich and unconsciously sultry, beckoning him without her knowledge.
His male hormones wreaked havoc. What had he done? How could he go through with this? And how could he not? This woman had captivated him from the word go.
It was with great difficulty that he released Lara’s hand. He could feel her stiffening, getting ready to pull away, perhaps even regretting her decision. He smiled, a wide, friendly safe smile. ‘You won’t be sorry.’
‘I hope not.’ She fired the words at him, a warning glitter in her eyes. ‘Because I have no intention of letting another man mess me around. If you hurt me, Bryce Kellerman, if you go back on your word, you’ll find me a very dangerous lady. I wasn’t brought up with four brothers for nothing.’
He pulled a face, pretending alarm, loving her fiery nature. ‘I will never do anything to hurt you, Lara. I give you my word.’ He lifted his glass. ‘To us, to a true friendship.’
Lara clinked hers against it. ‘To friendship.’ And she allowed a slow smile to wipe the worry from her face.
She was beautiful, he thought, absolutely ravishingly beautiful. He loved everything about her: her silken hair; her delectable blue eyes; the wide, sexy mouth that absolutely begged to be kissed; her slender body that he wanted to urge against him; high, firm breasts that tempted him through the thin cotton of her dress. It would be difficult, if not impossible, to keep his hands off her.
‘How long are you planning to stay?’ He didn’t realise how harsh his voice was until he saw her sudden frown.
‘I don’t know. Aunt Helen says for as long as I like.’
‘Until you’ve got over your disastrous marriage? Is that it?’
‘I guess so,’ she agreed.
