her throat and she pulled free. ‘I…I need to go to the ladies’.’ Clutching her jacket about her shoulders, she took a couple of steps away, and from the safety of distance she pulled her thrumming lips into some semblance of a smile and said, ‘I’ll be back in a moment.’
She plunged back into the overheated room, saw Sasha amongst the dancers and caught her eye. Sasha winked over some guy’s shoulder and twirled her index finger in the air—their prearranged ‘goodnight’ signal should they decide to leave separately.
Ellie nodded, manoeuvred her way through the dancers, past security at the entrance and out onto the street, still busy with traffic despite the late hour.
A car filled with loudmouthed teenagers cruised past, their car stereo’s bass competing in an out-of-sync rhythm with the club’s. Cold air stung her face and bare arms as she clung to her jacket, desperately willing a taxi to appear.
‘Wait, Ellie.’ She jumped at the sound of his voice behind her, but she didn’t turn around.
No, no, no. If she looked, she might reconsider and she couldn’t risk that. A fleeting kiss was fine, a little flirting…probably. But a kiss like that, with a man like him…A man who could sweep away her common sense without raising a sweat…
A frantic wave brought a taxi screeching to a halt in front of her. She dived inside, slammed the door and ordered the cabbie to drive.
But before he could pull into the stream of traffic, the door swung open again. Her breath caught and her fingers tightened on top of her bag. Matt whoever-he-was filled the space with his unique brand of woodsy midnight cologne, his smile, his charisma. ‘You dropped your jacket,’ he said, and laid it on the seat beside her. He didn’t attempt to climb in.
‘Ah…Thank you.’ She hadn’t even realised it had slipped off her shoulders and felt like a fool. He hadn’t done anything she hadn’t wanted him to and she’d taken the coward’s way out and ditched him without one word of explanation. Worse, she could see the blonde who’d eyed him up earlier watching the proceedings from the club’s entrance.
‘You sure you don’t want to change your mind?’
No. She dragged her eyes back to his. ‘Yes.’
‘“Yes,” you’re sure, or “yes,” you want to change your mind?’
She shook her head. ‘You know what I mean.’
His smile faded. ‘Maybe, but I’m not sure you do.’ He withdrew a wallet from his hip pocket, flipped it open and pulled out a black-and-gold business card. ‘When you do…change your mind…’
When I do? That’s why she stayed away from men like him. They messed with your head; they were dangerous…and addictive. And when they were finished with you, what did you have? Emptiness, pain and regrets.
When she didn’t take the card, he reached inside and grasped her hand with his large warm fingers, turned it palm up. He pressed a kiss to the centre, then replaced his lips with the card, folded her fingers over the top. ‘Until I see you again.’ Spoken with all the arrogance and confidence in the whole damn universe.
Her palm burned and she curled her fingers into a fist. Protecting the imprint of his mouth or screwing up his card? ‘I don’t think so.’
But he just grinned, as cocky as ever. He peeled off a one-hundred-dollar note from his wad. ‘Cab fare home. Pleasant dreams, Ellie.’
Ellie unlocked the door to her one-room studio apartment, stepped into calming darkness and solitude, grateful none of the other tenants she shared the building with were around to witness her dishevelled state.
Leaning back against the door, she let out a sigh. She could hear her own breathing, still ragged, her pulse, still rapid. What had she been thinking? Letting him kiss her and then…oh…and then letting him come on to her that way? And what was she supposed to do with all that change from the cab fare?
Closing her eyes didn’t help. It didn’t block the images or shut out the memory of how she’d responded to him. ‘Idiot!’ she snarled. ‘I am an idiot.’ She recited the words slowly through clenched teeth. Her fingers closed tightly over the business card she still held. She hadn’t been able to make herself drop it in the gutter like she should have.
Crossing the room, she tossed the crumpled cardboard on her night stand without looking at it, flicked on her bedside lamp and flung herself onto her narrow bed, pulling her comforting pink rug over her body. Then, just to be sure, she sent Sasha a text telling her she’d gone home. Alone—in case Sasha got smart and sent her a fun text about ‘getting lucky’. Lucky? She stared at the ceiling as if she could read answers in the ancient water stains.
She didn’t want to get lucky. She didn’t want to get involved. With anyone. Not that Matt had come even close to suggesting any such thing. It had been obvious where his intentions had been focused. But a late supper, maybe a few dates and who knew where that would have led? On her part, at least. You know exactly where, the little voice in her head whispered.
She didn’t know how, but Matt was unlike any man she’d ever met, and that made him dangerous. Didn’t mean she didn’t know his type. He’d probably already forgotten her.
She’d always been one to get easily attached to people. And when they left, for whatever reason, they took another piece of her with them.
Like when her part-time father walked out on her and Mum for the final time. She’d been three. Then three years later there’d been the car accident which had taken her mum and both grandparents. Her father had come back into her life to take care of her, but he was and always had been a wanderer. It had been a glorious adventure, travelling with him around the country chasing work, but she’d been a hindrance, and at the age of nine he’d left again, tearing out her young heart, and she’d found herself in foster care.
As she’d grown up she’d had boyfriends, and two and a half years ago her first and only serious relationship…She shook her head against the pillow. No, she wasn’t going to think about Heath. But the memories slinked back anyway, like wolves waiting to pounce.
They’d been inseparable for six months. Ellie had thought Heath was serious, but no…Instead, it seemed the gorgeous Brit she’d fallen for had an expiring work visa and the not-so-little complication of a fiancée waiting for him back in London. He’d told her it had been great while it lasted but she’d been a fling, didn’t she understand that?
Her hands clenched around the sheets. Matt whoever-he-was hadn’t only ignited a fire in her belly; one look into his eyes, one brush of his lips over hers and she’d forgotten everything she’d taught herself about self-preservation.
No. Those days were over. She’d never allow herself to get close to a man again. To fall in love. And most definitely, absolutely, she’d never risk marriage and kids. Matt was wrong about that. So wrong. ‘No, Matt whoever-the-hell-you-are,’ she said to the ceiling. ‘I will not change my mind.’
Chapter Two
ON TUESDAY morning, after he’d seen Belle safely off at the airport, Matt headed upstairs. Belle’s century-old six-bedroom Melbournian mansion was maintained in spotless condition, but she’d left his old bedroom alone and a good clean-out was well overdue. He planned to slot it in between appointments
