‘No!’
‘Relax, Sasha. It was a joke.’ She was too easy to wind up. ‘I don’t want to get naked with you either.’
Liar. Post-show sex was as habitual as coffee in the mornings. And right now her navy-blue eyes and feisty spirit sparked the right amount of interest. He watched in amusement as she gripped the strap on her bag. No wedding ring. Interesting. Still, that meant little these days. And why had he looked at her fingers?
A purely male instinctive reaction. Right?
But everything he remembered about Sasha Sweet was laced with regret. Not just the one that got away, she was the one who had stamped hard on his heart.
‘Now I know everything the papers say is true. You’re just a good-time guy. Shallow. Over-sexed...’
‘Oh? You’ve been reading up about me?’ Stretching out his legs across the lush thick white carpet, he grinned, slow and lazy so she’d understand just how good his life had been. After her. ‘Believe me, it’s been infinitely better than anything they print.’
‘I have not been reading up about you.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I just happened to notice some headline about your crazy life in the States. It’s certainly a far cry from Chesterton.’
‘And then some.’ He shuddered at the mention of the place that had cut ties with him. That had branded him with the same tarnish they had his no-hope father. A hooligan, out of control. Bad to the bone. And no one, not even Sasha, had ever come to his defence.
‘Leaving Chesterton was the best thing I ever did. And yes, there are some mad parties in LA. It comes with the territory.’ The press had wasted no time covering the best bits—it just happened the best bits were also the worst. Drunk and debauched had been one hell of a ride.
She tugged at his arm. ‘Nate, I need to—’
‘I know. Here.’ He felt in his pocket for her phone. ‘Text her back. I presume the Cassie ID refers to your little sister?’
She looked surprised. ‘Yes. Of course. You remember Cassie? Although, she’s not so little these days, at twenty-five.’
‘How could I ever forget the infamous Sweet sisters?’
Even though he’d long since put their failed relationship down to innocent first-love infatuation, he hadn’t forgotten the details. Three feisty red-headed girls who had set the fragile hearts of every nubile boy in Chesterton racing. With Sasha, the middle sister, the only woman who’d ever said no to him.
And here she was, all grown-up and seriously hot.
The freckles he’d loved to count and kiss way back in the Dark Ages were still there on her fresh lightly made-up face. Her spirit, clearly, hadn’t diminished. Neither had the curves highlighted by the tight capri trousers and dark mesh top, making her look as if she’d just walked out of a fifties’ movie set, or the translucent skin that had sent shivers down his adolescent spine. But he’d got steel in there now.
Working in a business of backstabbing and greed, he was used to people trying to piggy-back on his success. He’d been taken for a ride too many times to count and wouldn’t be doing it again; a costly separation had taught him that lesson.
So why his interest was piqued by this particular old girlfriend he didn’t know. He might as well just get the cheque book out now. Far easier than going through a messy conversation.
Grabbing the glittery phone from his outstretched hand, she glanced at the screen and visibly cringed. ‘I’m sorry about that. Cassie might be an adult, but she hasn’t fully grown up yet.’
‘And what are you going to reply to her?’
‘Oh...I don’t know.’ She looked up through thick dark eyelashes, her lips pursed, teasingly. ‘That you’re still obnoxious and full of yourself.’
‘And with an ass to die for?’
‘See? Obnoxious.’ She flashed a smile, which did something funny to his heart. He put it down to being on the road for too long.
‘I aim to please. And it seems to work for the most part. I have to admit, you surprise me, Sasha. I never thought you’d do something like this. You always played everything so safe.’ He returned the smile with one of his own as he undid the top button on his shirt, ready to have a little fun.
Instead of the flustered reaction he’d imagined, she sat forward and pinned him to the seat with an ice-cool gaze. ‘I did not.’
‘Yeah? Grade-A student, always toed the line. Never broke the rules—at least never broke them for me. So what’s changed? Why are you in my car en route to a fancy hotel?’
‘Hotel? Oh, for goodness’ sake, get over yourself.’ She blinked quickly, the cool fading into fluster. ‘I...I said, I’m not here for sex.’
‘Oh, yes, and I remember you saying that before too. But I never did quite believe you.’ He leaned forward, met her almost in the middle of the seat, caught a glimpse of fire in her eyes before she turned away.
She’d been saving herself for when they were married or some such foolish idea. At least, until they were engaged. He wondered, fleetingly, who had taken his place, been her first time.
He shook that thought away along with the accompanying uninvited tension that zipped through his veins. And fought back an urge to run his fingers through a curl, see if it was as soft as he remembered. ‘Your body always did give you away.’
‘Not any more. I have full control.’
‘Really?’ He focused on her legs, did a slow journey up to her breasts, her throat, her mouth. Awareness crackled around the car sucking out the oxygen. After five long seconds he met her gaze. ‘You want to put it to the test?’
‘Absolutely not. You should save your energy for someone who’d be more...grateful. Like the poor misguided gruesome twosome you just had in here.’ She glared at him. But he didn’t miss the flash of heat in her eyes. ‘Look, this has been a mistake.’
And the blushing was still the same; she never could control that. A full peachy rash bloomed in her cheeks, spread to her neck and disappeared into that midnight-blue top.
Dragging his eyes away from her, he tried to breathe out the weird emotions thrumming in his chest.
Outside, the city lights illuminated Marble Arch, traffic slowed even at this time of night.
London.
For the first time in years, he was back home. At least it used to be. Home now was a sprawling Malibu mansion overlooking the ocean. But sometimes he missed the vibrancy of this city, the exciting pulse that emanated from the streets and throbbed through his veins, mixing with the comforting feel of the familiar.
Or was that just his strange reaction at seeing Sasha Sweet again?
She looked out of the window, too, for a few moments until her surprisingly girly phone signalled a new message. When she’d finished reading she tilted her head in his direction. ‘Can you drop me off now? Cassie’s going to meet me. I’ll get the
