The Bad Boy's Redemption: Too Much of a Good Thing? / Her Last Line of Defence / Her Hard to Resist Husband. Marie Donovan
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It was a situation she couldn’t control and she was propelled back to that black time when she’d felt sick with grief, crippled by the responsibility of her new role as guardian to her brothers, feeling so helpless.
Every insecurity she’d ever had came rushing back—every sadness, every fear. Oh, she knew intellectually that this wasn’t her fault, but knowing was different from feeling, and being at the mercy of whoever it was who’d spiked her drink scared her down to her toes. Added to that was the realisation that she’d been in Will’s hands, his care...under his power.
She wanted to curl up in a corner and suck her thumb. GHB? Spiked drinks? A high-profile celebrity rescuing her from what might have been a very nasty situation? Incidents like this didn’t happen to ordinary girls like her. If she thought about what could have happened...
Lu bumped her hand against her forehead in an effort to clear the cobwebs and realised that her stomach was rebelling again.
Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it...
Will’s face popped into her head and she focused on that as a distraction. He was so much better-looking in real life than in the newspapers and on TV. They didn’t capture the intelligence in those topaz-coloured eyes, the flicker of movement in that mobile mouth, the very, very small dimple-type dent that appeared in his cheek when he smiled.
And she wasn’t even going to think about his body...fit, hard, utterly—shockingly!—masculine. Lu rubbed her thighs together. Strangely, she suddenly felt a pounding pulse in a place where she’d never pulsed before.
Lu raised her head to look at herself in the mirror above the sink and yelped at her reflection. Her brand-new, streaky gold hair that had looked so fabulously chic last night now stood up in tufts on the right side of her head and lay dead flat on the other side. She was sheet-white, her freckles the only bit of colour in her face, and someone had painted the bags under her eyes a bright purple.
No wonder Will Scott had belted out of bed as if the hounds of hell were snapping at his heels. Admittedly her eyes were an unusual colour—sometimes green, sometimes blue—but the spray of freckles across her nose and cheeks were the bane of her life. She was more ‘girl next door’ than ‘I am woman, hear me roar’.
This morning she barely reached ‘I am human, hear me whimper’.
So any ideas that he’d been looking at her legs or mouth or any quick flashes of interest she’d thought she’d caught in his eyes was just a very optimistic dose of wishful thinking. Stupid girl. Lu pulled a tongue at her reflection, opened the tap and splashed warm water on her face. Stealing a bit of Will’s toothpaste, she brushed her teeth with her finger and helped herself to a healthy swig of his mouthwash.
She wet her hands and ran them through her hair in an attempt to look less like a neurotic bantam chicken. She wished she could pull on her clothes, but when she reached for the packet containing them one whiff of the contents had her changing her mind. Will’s T-shirt, which barely hit her knees would have to do for now.
Right—she felt marginally human and slightly better able to deal with Will, his smack-you-in-the-face sex appeal and this very weird situation. Lu straightened her spine and opened the bathroom door just as Will walked across from the closet, now dressed in hip hugging faded Levi’s, a fire-engine-red T-shirt clutched loosely in his hand.
His chest was lightly covered in dark hair and he had a six-pack that would make a male model jealous. It made her mouth water.
I am woman, see me drool.
* * *
‘Lu! Lu, where the hell are you?’
Forty-five minutes later a pounding on the suite door and an upset male voice caused Lu to jump in her chair. Will lifted his eyebrows as Lu went to answer the door and the handsome guy from the club pulled her into his arms and whirled her around.
‘Bloody hell, Lu. I take you clubbing one frickin’ time and you disappear on me! And what the hell were you saying about your drink being spiked? And keep your damned mobile charged, woman!’ he bellowed.
Not allowing her to reply, he segued into a barrage of Zulu. While Will didn’t understand one individual word, he got the gist. It was the universal tone of you-scared-the-crap-out-of-me.
Lu interrupted him by placing her hand over his mouth. ‘Mak Sibaya—Will Scott.’
Mak pushed her hand away, lifted his own hand in a half-greeting and carried on ranting. ‘I left you for one dance...I came back and you were gone! I thought you’d done your normal I’m-sick-of-waiting trick and left on your own. When I couldn’t get hold of you by yesterday afternoon I went around to the house. When I saw your car was there but you weren’t I started to freak. I’m still freaking! And what were you saying about a date-rape drug? What the—’
‘She’s fine,’ Will stated, shoving a cup of coffee into Mak’s hand and cutting off another barrage of colourful swear words. ‘Did you bring clothes?’
Mak sat down and looked around, eventually pointing to the plastic bag he’d dropped by the door. Will stood up and went to retrieve it, understanding that Mak needed a minute to compose himself—that he’d been seriously worried and expressed it by acting like a jerk. He couldn’t blame the guy. It was what guys did when they were unhappy. Any man would be jumping the walls if his woman vanished on him and he couldn’t get hold of her.
There was another reason not to have a partner or a girlfriend...you couldn’t get agitated and upset if there was no one to get agitated and upset about. And he still wasn’t impressed that Mak hadn’t taken better care of her at the club—kept his eye on Lu instead of leaving her alone at the bar.
Will sat in the chair opposite Mak and poured himself a cup of coffee. They waited in an uneasy silence as Lu dressed in the next room.
Mak lifted his head and his dark eyes looked miserable when they connected with Will’s. ‘Thanks, by the way. If anything had happened to her...’
Uncomfortable with the level of emotion he heard in the other man’s voice, Will shifted in his seat. ‘Sure...I’m glad I was there.’
‘Me too.’ Mak scrubbed his face with his hands. ‘Lu is...she’s—’
His words were cut off by Lu’s return. Will’s T-shirt had been replaced by a snug, cropped T-shirt of pale pink, revealing an inch of her belly above the band of low-cut white shorts. Long legs ended in a pair of battered flip-flops. She crossed them as she sat down on the couch next to him.
Will handed her a cup of coffee. ‘Black. Add what you want to it.’ He gestured to the milk and sugar on the tray. Lu, he noticed, took hers black and sweet.
‘I hope we’re not keeping you from anything?’ Lu said after sipping and sighing.
‘I have some press interviews scheduled for later, but I’m not in any rush.’ Will placed his cup on the tray and leaned forward. ‘What do you want to do about the other night? Do you want to press charges?’ He watched Lu think.
‘I don’t know. I feel fine now. A bit of a headache, but that’s it.’ She dropped her elbows to her knees and rested her face in her hands. ‘I’d go to the police but