shook his head. ‘It’s not as bad as you think.’
‘How bad am I thinking?’
‘The date ends at the front door.’
Biting back resentment that she thought she’d got over years ago, she said, ‘That’ll be a novelty for you, then. I’ve heard you’re a regular Casanova these days.’
His lips stretched into an indolent grin that didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Don’t believe everything you hear.’
The back of her throat tickled at the sound of that lazy tone. She glanced down, flicking her eyes to his again before they had time to indulge in the snug fit of his jeans and the way his exclusive hand-made casual shirt clung to his chest, even if the seam was too narrow for his broad shoulders. ‘If you’re going to look the part you’ll really have to update your wardrobe, or acquire a new tailor.’
‘Ah, ever the fashion designer. And looking a million bucks tonight,’ he said, his gaze skimming her body, just a tad longer than might be considered polite in company. ‘One of your designs?’
She met his eyes, paused, smiling inwardly, then sipped her drink. ‘No.’ Hah. He obviously knew nothing about her designs.
‘That’s right—you’re a photographer’s model these days. I saw your picture in a magazine here a couple of months back. Phoebe showed us. Very nice.’
His gaze swept over her once more. Was he comparing her to his girlfriends? According to Phoebe’s regular newsy e-mails from home, Dane enjoyed more than his fair share.
It no longer bothered her. After all, she’d put Dane in her past where he belonged years ago. Hadn’t she? Standing here, within his all-too-compelling aura, she wondered if she was as certain about that as she’d thought.
‘Not any more.’ She took another long gulp to wash the sudden bitter taste of Luc’s betrayal from her mouth.
‘Oh?’
‘There you are, Mari,’ Phoebe interrupted with breathless haste, clutching her mobile to her breasts and saving Mariel from having to discuss her ruined career.
‘Hi, Dane.’ She barely spared him a glance, and Mariel had the fleeting thought that life had gone on here as usual while she’d been away. Phoebe leaned in and murmured, ‘Kyle just rang. He wants to meet me. Now.’
Mariel stared at her sister, incredulous. ‘And you agreed? What happened to your New Year’s resolution?’
Phoebe bit her lip. ‘I know, I know, but…’
‘Don’t let him call the shots, Pheebes.’
‘I won’t. But I’ve got to meet him halfway, don’t I?’
Mariel raised a brow at the gleam in Phoebe’s over-bright eyes. ‘And where’s that?’
‘Um…a spot we like to go. Oh, and in case I don’t see you, I won’t be around when you get up. I’m on an early-morning flight to Melbourne. There’s a music festival on. So I’ve asked Brad Johnston to drop you home. You remember Brad; he’s keen to catch up with you again.’
‘Ah…’ Stomach sinking, she glanced over Phoebe’s shoulder, saw the familiar fuzzy-haired guy weaving his way through the crowd. More than keen, if Mariel wasn’t mistaken.
‘You two came together?’ Dane asked.
‘Yeah, my wonderful sister came to keep me company…um…because Kyle couldn’t make it. You don’t mind, do you, Mari?’
‘Of course not, but I think you should consider—’
‘No need to bother Brad,’ Dane cut in, his voice disturbingly deep, disturbingly close. ‘It’s all arranged, I’m taking Mariel home.’
Chapter Two
‘OH? OKAY…but…’ Phoebe’s eyes darted between the
two of them.
‘I’ll let Brad know,’ he told her.
‘Okay. Thanks, Dane. See ya later, sis.’ Phoebe pecked Mariel’s cheek and was gone in a whirlwind of pink and perfume.
‘Arranged?’ Mariel muttered, glaring at him while every internal organ traded places.
‘Wait here,’ he ordered, and was gone before she could utter another word of protest.
Hardly. But she stood immobile, feet stapled to the floor, while she watched him dispatch Brad in less than five seconds. Why weren’t her legs moving? Why wasn’t she getting the heck away before it was too late?
Dane could tell Mariel was unsettled by the sudden turn of events as he made his way back. Her eyes glinted dangerously, that beautiful mouth a slash of coral in her pale face. But, he noted with satisfaction, she’d made no attempt to disappear amongst the guests.
‘I was hoping to leave early,’ she said the moment he reached her side. Setting her cup down, she unzipped the diamante bag that swung from her shoulder. ‘About now, in fact. I wouldn’t want to spoil the evening for you. You probably came with someone…’ She pulled out her mobile. ‘I’ll call a cab.’
‘I told you. I’m taking you home. And it’s not a problem; I came alone.’
‘Oh…’ He saw her register that fact as her eyes clashed with his again.
Not a problem? Dane gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. They had unfinished business that went back ten years. To a night of youthful passion on a girly patterned quilt, the night-cooled fragrance wafting inside on the moonbeams.
Then a very ugly end outside his father’s garage.
Not a matter that could be sorted out tonight, Dane knew, but he’d taken one look at Brad and some sort of proprietorial instinct had kicked in.
‘But you’ll want to stay, enjoy…’ She waved a carefully manicured hand. ‘Whatever…’
‘I’m ready to leave when you are.’
‘Very well,’ she said with quiet formality, her spine rigid. ‘Thank you. I’d like to leave now, if that’s okay. My body clock’s still on Greenwich Mean Time.’
‘We’ll say our goodbyes, then.’ He placed a hand on the small of her back. He hadn’t counted on the heat that rushed into his palm at that first electrifying contact. Beneath his palm the sensuous fabric of her designer dress shifted against her flesh, making him wonder how she would feel without the silk.
Just smooth, sleek skin.
She flinched as if burned. So she felt it, too, he mused as he steered her towards their hosts. Interesting. Had she and her French lover called it quits? She’d returned alone, and there’d been a definite chill in her reply when Paris had been mentioned.
The paparazzi, eager for their quota of celebrity
