Nicola Marsh

Sex, Gossip and Rock & Roll


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      Not that it would be simple. He liked teasing her, getting her all riled up so those big green eyes glowed and her mouth pursed, plumping up some seriously kissable lips.

      ‘Seeing as we’re stuck with each other for the next fortnight, why don’t we call a truce? I won’t accuse you of anything if you stop looking at me like something you stepped in at a dog show.’

      The corners of her delectable mouth twitched and as the car eased to a stop at a traffic light she shot him a tight smile.

      ‘Can’t make any promises but I’ll try. Deal?’

      He couldn’t shake her hand, with one on the steering wheel and the other on the gear stick, so he did the next best thing. Unable to stop the resident demon that prompted him to do impulsive things on a daily basis, he leaned across and kissed her.

      ‘Deal,’ he murmured against her lips, taking advantage of her shock by kissing her again, lingering this time, sliding his lips over hers, exerting just enough pressure to show that given half a chance he’d deepen it to the point of no return.

      Two sharp honks on a horn behind them had her cursing and shoving him away before she returned her hand to the gear stick and slid into first.

      ‘Care to explain what that was about?’

      Her tone had resumed its frostiness while he couldn’t wipe the grin off his face.

      ‘Not that I usually need to explain why I kiss a beautiful woman, but we couldn’t shake on the deal so I did the next best thing. Why, did I offend you?’

      His silky tone garnered a snort in response. ‘Newsflash. That out-of-line kiss rendered the deal null and void. New deal. We don’t talk for the next fortnight. Capish?’

      Oh, yeah, that kiss had got to her.

      ‘Where’s the fun in that?’

      ‘You’re here to manage the finances, not have fun.’

      ‘Surely the two aren’t mutually exclusive?’

      She screeched into a side street, giving him momentary whiplash, before cutting the engine and turning to face him.

      ‘Another newsflash. I’m not one of your bimbos. I work for your grandfather. I take my job seriously. And I don’t need some goof-off blow-in making trouble for me. Got it?’

      She stopped just short of jabbing him in the chest. Pity, he would’ve liked to feel her hands on him again.

      ‘Loud and clear.’

      Her shoulders sagged in relief, before he added, ‘Doesn’t mean I’ll play nice.’

      ‘You’re a pain in the—’

      ‘With all this talk of work, doesn’t sound like you have much time for fun?’

      ‘I have plenty of fun.’

      His snort deepened her indignant frown. ‘When’s the last time you had a date?’

      She clamped her lips shut.

      ‘Had sex?’

      Her legs followed suit and he laughed.

      ‘Look, we can do this the hard way or the fun way. My mouth? Has a life of its own. Runs away all the time. I’ll compliment you constantly. I’ll tease you incessantly. I may even kiss you on occasion but it’s harmless. All good, clean fun.’

      It was her turn to snort but not before he’d caught the gleam of excitement making the gold flecks in her green eyes glow.

      ‘No kissing.’

      He paused for a moment, pretended to think. ‘Sorry, can’t promise that.’

      ‘You’re impossible! ‘

      ‘But you like me anyway.’

      Their gazes locked and the car’s tight confines shrank further. He could smell her light floral perfume, could see the indecision warring with excitement in her eyes, could sense her capitulation as her shoulders relaxed and she leaned forward a fraction.

      For once, he kept his big mouth shut, enjoying the electricity buzzing between them, savouring the promise of sparring, sparks and sex.

      And there would be sex, he had no doubt. They had some serious chemistry going on, the kind you couldn’t ignore.

      Throw in the fact they’d be together twenty-four-seven and it was inevitable.

      He could hardly wait.

      ‘There’s nothing I can say that’ll make you back off, is there? ‘

      ‘No.’

      With an exasperated sigh, she shook her head. ‘Having you tag along on this tour goes way beyond the call of duty. And I have to put up with grief to boot?’

      She revved the engine, the sound of the firing cylinders a joy to a guy’s heart.

      ‘Go on, admit it.’

      ‘What?’

      ‘You’re having fun already.’

      With another neck-twisting wrench on the steering wheel she pulled back onto the road.

      ‘Does it look like I’m having fun?’

      ‘Either you’re trialling for the Grand Prix or you’re driving like a maniac because you’re ticked off.’

      She threw in another rev for good meas ure.

      ‘Okay, got the message loud and clear. I’ll shut up ‘til we get to Ballarat.’

      Her hands instantly relaxed on the steering wheel.

      ‘How long?’

      ‘An hour, maybe ninety minutes in this traffic,’ she said, her tone smug.

      He let her have her little victory for now. She’d soon learn he didn’t always do as he said.

      CHAPTER THREE

      CHARLI cranked up the stereo as they left the city traffic behind, hoping Luca would get the hint. She’d tried telling him to his face; it had done nothing. Maybe the subtle approach would work better?

      Yeah, and maybe he’d shut up for the duration of the tour. Absolutely no chance.

      Ever since he’d kissed her she’d avoided looking at him; couldn’t look at him, really, not without staring at his mouth. And if she did that. She could verbally flay him all she liked but her eyes couldn’t lie. One look and he’d know exactly how his kiss affected her: rattled beyond belief.

      Forget the fact she hadn’t had a date in nine months let alone a hint of a smooch. Abstinence couldn’t explain her irrational, overwhelming urge to keep kissing him until they were breathless, the urge to run her hands all over him, the urge to tear her clothes off and straddle him and let him prove to her if half of what she’d read about his playboy reputation was true.

      A car overtook them on the freeway, the four-wheel-drive’s tail-lights seeming to wink at her and she blinked. Even damn inanimate objects were laughing at her expense.

      How stupid could she be? The kiss meant nothing, was more of the same teasing he’d been doing ever since she’d had the misfortune to knock on his hotel door.

      For some unknown reason he’d wanted to rile her the second he’d opened the door to her wearing a towel and that infuriatingly cocky smile. So far, he’d done a good job of it. He’d flirted with her, insulted her and kissed her, all within the first hour. Didn’t bode well for the rest of the fortnight.

      ‘We nearly there yet?’

      ‘What are you? Four?’

      Slowing to let a truck pass, she smirked. ‘Silly me, that’s just your IQ.’

      He