CHAPTER TWO
BROCK NURSED A double-shot whisky as he stared blindly at the twinkling lights of Melbourne thirty-five storeys below. The muted chatter of fellow patrons at the Rochester Hotel’s exclusive bar mingled with the melodic tinkling of a pianist tucked into the farthest corner. White noise to him. He didn’t hear any of it because his heart was pounding so damn loud.
She’d be here shortly.
Jayda York.
His nemesis.
Stupid that even though it was six years since he’d last seen her on graduation night, he still thought of her as the enemy. Not through any fault of hers. She had no frigging idea that he couldn’t wipe the memory of what they’d done that night out of his head.
She’d made his life hell for the four years of their IT degree at university: once again, not really her fault. Entitled, condescending and aloof, she’d been way out of his league. It hadn’t helped that he’d wanted to fuck her so badly he’d hardly been able to walk straight most days. Then she’d lowered her guard on grad night and he’d been the schmuck to comfort her.
Comfort. Yeah, right.
‘Mr Olsen, can I get you another drink?’
He glared at the waiter before realising he’d downed his whisky while musing the power Jayda had held over him.
He nodded. ‘Thanks. Make it another double.’
‘Yes, sir.’
The waiter headed towards the sleek chrome bar that lined the opposite wall and that was when Brock saw her. His heart bucked as it had ten years earlier on the first day of uni when she’d slid into the seat next to him.
‘Fuck,’ he muttered, dragging in a breath and blowing it out, hating that laying eyes on her could elicit the kind of visceral reaction that made his gut churn and his cock thicken.
She hadn’t caught sight of him yet. Good. It gave him time to calm the hell down and study her. She wore a simple black dress, long sleeves, high neck, past her knees. She’d always favoured dark colours at uni, as if she wanted to hide something. As it turned out she did; her revelation the night she’d revealed so much of herself had shocked him. Her confidence had been a sham, her superiority a ruse. He’d misjudged her for four long years.
She wore her signature towering heels, adding several inches to her height. They’d been incongruous at uni, those ridiculous heels. He’d thought they were yet another designer accessory to flaunt her wealth, never imagining she wore them to elongate her legs and take the focus off the rest of her body.
He’d done his best to prove to her exactly how luscious her gorgeous body was that one, fateful night. She hadn’t believed him, considering she’d bolted in the dark of night and shunned all contact since.
Until now.
He couldn’t wait to hear this business proposal she had for him. So he could shoot it down and walk away as he should’ve done six
