am.’ She looked at him through lashes perfectly—but heavily—mascaraed.
‘Then why are you trying out for the Blades?’ He swallowed. Was this high-gloss vision truly the same sodden waif he’d met less than twenty-four hours before? Helplessly he glanced down her leotard-clad torso again. Not the slim waif at all. Curves had mushroomed magically. He bit his lip to stop the smile and the comment he so badly wanted to make.
‘I’m going overseas at the end of the season,’ she said. ‘I want to dance first.’
‘The end of the season?’ He was appalled; his amusement fled. That wasn’t soon. He’d thought she was shipping out in a week or so. How was he supposed to live in that house with her a stone’s throw away for the best part of six months? Especially if she was going to be glammed up something gorgeous like this?
‘Yeah, except that stupid bee just ruined my chances. And, no, I didn’t stab myself with it just so I could get your face up close to my inner thigh.’
Oh, my. Gabe snapped his mouth shut, worked hard to bite back both the smile and the chuckle. His landlady had more fire than he’d given her credit for. He walked closer, watched even closer. Her transformation was something else, but he saw the hint of uncertainty in her expression as he deliberately breached her personal space. The girl was acting the grown-up. But some kind of madness raced in his blood when she lifted her chin and refused to break eye contact with him. Her audacious grit got to him. If she wanted to sharpen her kitten claws, well, hell, he’d play up to her—a very little. Frankly he couldn’t resist seeing how far she’d go until she melted in a flush, until she got tongue-tied and lost her cool completely. He suspected it wouldn’t be too far at all.
‘Do some of the dancers really fake injuries to come and see you?’ she asked outright.
Her obvious disbelief threw him instead. He cleared his throat, knew he’d sounded like the most arrogant a-hole ever. ‘It’s happened a couple of times.’ More than a couple. But still.
Roxie giggled, suddenly delighted as she saw her tenant steal another quick look at her outfit—at least she’d achieved one objective today. Maybe it was the bee poison running through her system, or she was intoxicated by his proximity, but she couldn’t resist baiting him—his arrogance was incredible. ‘But you’re not a rugby star. Surely the dancers have bigger fish to fry in this place? You know, all those fit young rugby players?’
He met her gaze with his dark one and a spark flickered in the depths. ‘Maybe some of them prefer my qualifications.’
Heart racing, she breathed carefully to keep her answer cool. ‘I’m sure more prefer the status and short-term income of the real stars.’
His smile was all shark. ‘Maybe I have some other factors in my favour too.’
She figured he meant his looks. Yeah, so good-looking her toes were curling. All kinds of muscles clamped down—mostly in her nether regions. As if they were trying to dampen the inferno blazing there. ‘Well, you don’t need to worry about me, you’re not my type,’ she lied, feeling sassy and amused and surprisingly in control.
‘No?’
She froze. She hadn’t expected that direct challenge—his tone as loaded with tease as hers had been. She narrowed her gaze. ‘Definitely not. You’re too arrogant.’
Way too arrogant.
He leaned closer, his smile even more wicked. ‘Lots of girls like arrogance. Confidence.’
‘Lots of girls like bad boys too. I’m not like lots of girls.’
‘That’s true.’ All of a sudden he frowned. ‘Roxanna, what are you doing here?’
‘Auditioning,’ she cooed, to maintain the tease. ‘And it’s Roxie.’
Yeah, it was fun flexing flirt muscles that had been dormant so long. Really, it was easy. Because she could see the reaction—the glint in his eyes. And she could feel that pull between them; it was out-of-this-world strong.
‘You told me Roxanna yesterday.’ He stepped that little bit closer, his voice dropping.
‘You caught me by surprise yesterday,’ she breathed softly, holding eye contact. Nerves squeezed down tighter in her lower belly.
His gaze travelled across her face—eyes, lips, then dipped to her chest. ‘So now you’re Roxie.’
‘Yes.’ She tossed her hair defiantly and lifted her chin at him. ‘I’ve always been Roxie.’ Inside she had anyway. And ‘Roxie’ was certainly having an effect on him. She wasn’t a total innocent. She’d had a boyfriend—one who had let her down in her hour of need, for sure, but she knew the look—and there was no disguising the look Gabe was giving her now. Oh, it had been worth every cent, every never-ending minute in the salon this morning. Poor Roxanna had never stood a chance, but add a little blonde, a little oomph to her assets? It was a different story. She couldn’t believe men could be so shallow. But right now she didn’t care, she was just basking in the heat in those eyes. The novelty was heady.
He shook his head very slowly. ‘Well, Roxie, we’d better take a look at it.’
Look at what? Oh, her bee sting. She looked down at it and sighed; seemed as if the fun moment was over.
‘I want you on the bed.’
Roxie almost gasped at that instruction, until she quickly looked up and caught his too-bland expression. He was baiting her right back.
But he frowned when he glimpsed the circle of red, swollen skin on the inside of her thigh when she moved and sat up on the narrow bed against the wall. ‘You weren’t kidding.’
‘Of course not,’ she grumbled. As if she’d make up a bee sting just to get within cooee of the team doctor. He had such an inflated opinion of himself. ‘Hurts like hell.’
He bent to look more closely. ‘You can see the mark, but it looks like the actual sting is out. You’ve always been allergic?’
She nodded. ‘But I haven’t been stung in years. I thought I might have outgrown it.’
‘Shame,’ he murmured with evil intent, his breath a warm cloud brushing her thigh. ‘When you’ve gone to such effort to grow up in other ways.’
She felt a very un-grown-up urge to throw something at him and his patronising attitude.
‘Never mind, Roxie.’ His bedside manner came out more like a taunt. ‘Maybe you’ll get to dance overseas.’
‘Maybe.’ She shrugged like as if she didn’t mind, as if it wasn’t the disappointment of the year.
‘Spread your legs wider,’ he instructed casually, but with that dangerous glint back in his eye.
Externally she froze, internally she melted. ‘How wide?’ she managed to ask.
‘Wide enough for me, of course.’ His expression was now pure challenge, purely expectant of … what?
She saw the barely suppressed smirk. He was amusing himself at her expense?
