Полная версия
The Man She Couldn't Refuse
The Man She Couldn’t Refuse
Natalie Anderson
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Copyright
Chapter One
Becca Wolfe’s mobile chimed. She glanced at the screen, bracing for another text from one of her three über-interfering cousins. Would it be from George—the over-playful, Jack—the over-productive? No, this time it was James, the over-protective, offering yet more “helpful” travel tips…
James: DO eat street food. DO talk to strangers. But, don’t hate me for saying it, you should dress conservatively.
Suppressing a giggle, Becca stretched out her arm, snapped a selfie and sent it straight back to her cousin.
Sorry James, but needs must ;)
She wedged her phone down her waistband and stepped forward. Time to get the show on the road.
“Do you want to be Up. All. Night?” She stalked around the bodies spread over the beach, calling for them to come to her. “Do you want to be alert and ready for hard out action?”
Lifting her chin, she delivered the innuendo-laden lines with as much chutzpah as she could muster.
“You do? You want?” She brandished the pistols in her hands. “Then I’ve got your shot.”
Sunbathers sat up, guys stood. A crowd gathered. Good. She needed people interested, people smiling, people buying into the tagline. She needed to kick some promo butt today or she’d lose the job. Seriously, how hard was it to give something away?
Her boss at the bar she was promoting said it was all about attitude. She had the look, she had the product, all she needed was the sass and the badass grit. And that, she was just going to have to fake.
Her friends back home would never believe she was wearing this outfit. She didn’t believe she was wearing it—let alone squirting shots of some caffeine-laced, guarana-enhanced, sugar-free energy soda into the mouths of masses. And let’s not forget that secret libido-boosting ingredient…
Santorini in summer was filled with people out to have a good time—party long, party hard. It was holiday fun and flings all round.
But not for Becca.
Never. Again.
She’d enacted a Man Ban—no boyfriend, no relationship, no nothing. She was on a mission to discover herself. Do the things she wanted to do. Fight the fear and all that. As navel-gazing and self-indulgent as it sounded, this trip was all about her. Going where she wanted. Doing what she wanted. No more getting sucked into someone else’s ideas for her future.
This bar’s soda promo was merely the means to make the money to keep her moving. Because moving was key to this plan.
But now she stopped, selecting a spot that was highly visible in the middle of the striking pebbled beach. “Come get your poison, people.”
“Poison?”
Despite the blazing heat of the high summer sun, a chill swept over Becca’s skin. “Elixir, if you prefer,” she said, glancing around, trying to see past the group surrounding her.
“I like the sound of poison.”
Determined to keep up the sass despite her heart suddenly skipping to quad-speed, she called out. “You game to try it?”
There was a movement amongst the crowd, then he stepped forward into her line of sight. “Becca, I’m always game.”
OMG. No way. Levi Everton. Hometown Mr Mysterious. Heartthrob. Focal point of her teen lust. And heartache. Damn. Now she really needed to fake it. “That’s what they all say.”
“But you know I’m speaking the truth.”
“Yeah, well I’m betting every available woman nearby knows just how game you are.” The guy was a master flirt.
“Every woman? It seems I might need an energy hit.” He gave her “ammo” belt a derisory glance—it was loaded with mini vials of triple strength soda. “You’re saying this’ll keep me up all night?”
“Give you the energy to dance ‘til dawn.”
“I always did like dancing.”
She rolled her eyes. Her lame innuendo had been scripted. His just came natural—he was the ultimate in love ‘em and leave ‘em. The ultimate in arrogant.
“You going to let me have it?” He didn’t so much ask as goad, with his azure eyes glinting.
“You better get in line.”
“I don’t like to wait in line.”
No? He thought he deserved special treatment? That’s what happened to guys as hot as him—they got accustomed to all kinds of privileges. “Then you miss out.”
“Too bad, I was looking forward to licking a little acid from your lips.”
“You’re acidic enough already.”
“How would you know, you never got a real taste.”
No, she hadn’t. She’d rejected him, then she’d run. And she’d regretted it. For all his arrogance, no one had ever made her want the way Levi had.
“What do I have to do to get one of those cool shots?” Another guy stepped forward, interrupting their increasingly tart talk.
Becca plastered a smile back on her face and remembered what she was here to do—and that wasn’t Levi Everton.
She gave the guy a slow, appraising look—blatantly sexual. Vaguely she heard the cheers and catcalls of the other guys drawing near. Yeah, the crowd was mostly male. But all she was really conscious of was Levi standing close, watching with that annoyingly amused expression.
Because he knew she was faking it.
But she wanted to surprise him. Her gaze flashed to his as she drawled out her answer in a voice riding as low as the waistband of her skirt.
“You need to please me.”
Chapter Two
James: What the hell are you wearing?
Becca: Costume 4 bar I’m promoting.
Now there was a challenge. And one Levi Everton knew was damn near impossible. Becca Wolfe would never be satisfied with any of these mere mortals.
But with her feet spaced apart and her lithe, lightly tanned legs looking ridiculously long, she sure looked ready for action.
All Levi could do was stare.
Her costume was hot—a tiny leatherette skirt and an even tinier leatherette tank showing off her cleavage with a strategically placed rip. The top ended just beneath her ribs, baring a stretch of her flat, toned tummy. Slung low on her hips was the ammo belt, and on her back was a bottle from which two hoses emerged, and then fed into the “pistols” she held in each hand. She had golden arm cuffs, emblazoned with the soda company logo. She was like some ancient Greek warrior Goddess. Selling sexed-up soda.
Was this really square Becca Wolfe—the ice princess who’d never let a boy talk to her, let alone touch her? Had seven years really made such a difference?
He watched, both irritated and amused, as that guy who’d asked her for a shot theatrically fell to his knees and offered himself to be used in whatever manner she chose. Becca nodded ever so slightly—as frigidly regal as ever—and flipped him a vial from her belt. Then she glanced up and asked. “Anyone else?”
The whole damn lot of them got on their knees.
All except Levi.
No, he remained standing, watching as she bestowed her favors—either a direct shot from a pistol into a mouth, or a vial from the belt. Telling himself he couldn’t possibly want her as badly after all this time.
That he couldn’t want her even more.
She’d been a crush. It wasn’t like she’d broken his heart or anything. But she’d given him the push to succeed. The way she’d smacked him down—she’d looked horrified that a guy like him had dared ask her out. Yeah, that had stung. Not that he’d ever let her know it.
Finally she stepped away from them, calling out as she turned away with a flick of her long, luscious hair. “That’s all for a moment, minions. Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”
A few groaned and walked after her, but it seemed she’d now mastered the art of a polite rejection—a smile, a firm answer, and even more firm look. And then she walked.
But Levi walked too, striding out to circle around his prey so he ended up in front of her, blocking her path back up the beach. She tried to give him the polite smile and that death look. But he was determinedly immune. She wasn’t hurting him this time.
“So…” She stopped about three feet away and tried the up-and-down appraisal she’d leveled that other guy with. “Look at you, after all these years.”
Last time she’d seen him he’d worn nothing but the black jeans and black tee uniform of the café she’d liked to hang out at and where he’d worked insane hours. Now he was in fawn-colored chinos, a pressed white shirt and a navy jacket, looking stupidly country club for the Greek isles. In his defense, he’d had an important meeting with an investor who lived on the island. But now he was back to holiday mode. “What, you think it’s too flash for the beach?”
“Far too flash. You’re overdressed.”
He saw her glance dip to the watch on his wrist. Was it really only money that mattered to her? Status? “Compared to you.” He couldn’t help his sarcastic bite.
Her cocoa eyes narrowed. “What, you think because I’m dressed like this, I must be easy?”
He chuckled. He’d bet everything she’d had plenty of guys trying it on with her dressed like that. “Aren’t you?”
Her chin jerked up. “You can look, but you can’t touch.”
“That’s what lap dancers say.”
“You would know.”
He laughed again, anticipation tightening his gut. “You always were a tease.” He stepped forward. “Flash the eyes. And then deny what you’re offering.”
“I’m not offering what you’re thinking.”
“Why do you think you have hundreds of men hanging around you?”
“They want the free juice.”
“It’s not the juice they want and you know it.”
“No I don’t, but if that’s the case they’re going to be disappointed.”
“Then why look so easy?”
“I’m advertising. I prefer this outfit to a sandwich board.”
“But what is it you’re advertising?” He took one more step nearer—breaching intimate—and lowered his voice. “The soda, or sex?”
“Oh, you do think you’re flash,” she whispered with bite.
“That’s because I am,” he said loftily. “I guess the question is, am I now flash enough for you?”
Chapter Three
James: You’re working at a bar? Watch your drink AT ALL TIMES
Levi Everton had always been far too flash for her. And now, towering over her, looking at her—like that?
Thanks to Victoria so kindly sharing her “Secrets”, Becca currently had the cleavage of a porn queen. But she’d worn her bikini bottoms under the pleated skirt, so she had more fabric covering her than every other person on the beach, aside from him. Yet he made her feel like she was naked. More than that, it was as if he saw right through her. The intensity of his gaze had always gotten to her—he made her feel so damn aware. He emanated sensuality, the embodiment of wicked promise. Her throat dried, her brain fried and her body was on meltdown.
Levi Everton had always been Becca’s Most Wanted.
“Where’s Tess?” he suddenly asked. “She working the other end of the beach?”
“She’s not here.” Becca mumbled briefly.
“No?”
Yeah, no wonder he looked surprised. She and Tess had been glued together since they were six years old.
“She’s back in Sydney,” she explained. “Working in an ad agency, engaged to be married to some superstar banking genius. Hedge funds or something.”
“Just what she’s always wanted.” Levi grinned. “A man with money. You jealous?”
Becca snapped her spine even straighter. “I’m pleased for her. He’s a nice guy. She’s happy.”
“But you don’t have your safety blanket with you now.”
“She wasn’t my safety blanket.”
He looked skeptical. “You never did anything without her.”
“Because we’re friends.” But Becca didn’t like his comment—because it was true. That was what she was here to change.
“The terrible twosome,” he added. “Making every guy’s life hell.”
“Not true.”
It was because of Tess that Becca had said no to Levi. “Mates before Dates” was the rule she’d obeyed. Part of her had always wondered what she’d missed and now old images flooded her mind—the way he’d stood so close to her that night. Just as he was now.
Close enough to kiss.
Suddenly the summer sun was stifling.
Unnerved, overheated, she pulled a vial of the soda from her belt. She didn’t much like the stuff, but this was an emergency. She felt in danger of suffering heatstroke. She popped the lid and knocked back the full thirty mls in one mouthful, her eyes on him the whole time.
“Well, seeing you’re offering—” he murmured.
Before she could blink he grasped her chin and bent his head. His lips touched hers ever so lightly. She froze as electricity arced from him to her. So gently, so seductively with the one stroke, he licked the last drops from her lips.
There was no way Becca couldn’t let him in and with a soft gasp her lips parted and she lifted her chin higher. She felt the slide of his tongue against hers. This wasn’t a frantic, rushed kiss. He was unhurried, thorough, devastating. She closed her eyes against the harsh blue sky and dazzling sun. Swamped in sensation—heat and salt. It was the stickiness of the soda making her lips cling so hungrily to his, right?
No. It was the kiss she’d fantasized about for so long, that in reality was so much better than she’d dreamed. She rose onto tiptoe as she sensed him pulling back. Stayed there, seeking more as he leaned closer to deepening the kiss again. Her fingers tightened on the bottle, passion ignited. She wanted more than this. She always had.
Slowly, he drew back and subjected her to one of his way too intense, smoldering looks. “So, Easy, are you just starting or about to finish up?”
Chapter Four
George: Hv u bagged yourself a Greek shipping magnate yet?
Man Ban. She was on a freaking Man Ban. She wasn’t supposed to want like this. But how could she not react to that? Now she understood why he was so outrageously confident. He knew how to kiss.
Well, duh. Of course he did. Hadn’t she seen him often enough—kissing his girlfriend of the week? He’d dated the most beautiful, most desirable girls of their town just North of Sydney. All his own age, many older, ringing through the changes as frequently as pro footballers swapped their shirts. But after Becca had said no, he’d never looked in her corner again. And he’d never looked at Tess who sat beside her and who’d been pining for him for so long. She’d been the one dragging Becca back to the café day after day.
Becca had never explained to Tess what had happened that one time she’d gone to the café alone. She didn’t want to hurt her BFF, that was the whole point. But now Tess was happy. And now Becca was supposed to be doing her own thing.
Doing what she wanted.
Becca stepped up to him, because what she’d said to that other guy was true—for once, she wanted to be pleased. The lust Levi fired in her? She didn’t know which was the greater risk—to act on it, or ignore it. But she needed to know what he had in mind.
“You got plans for me, Flash?”
“Unfinished business.” Levi nodded. “Seems to me we ought to catch up and talk old times.”
“Talk?”
“It’s a well-known phenomenon that people from the same place bond together when travelling on foreign soil.”
“Bond?”
He smiled at her. And that was all it took.
“I have half a tank to go,” she said. “It should only take a few minutes.”
“May I watch?”
The way he infused that question with the naughty was quite some skill. She tossed her head, taking up the challenge in his expression. She’d been such a shy nerd—such a quiet sheep following her louder, confident friends.
“Alright.” She sized him up. “You can be my groupie. Five paces behind.”
“Groupie?” His nostrils flared. “Not a bodyguard?”
“I don’t need a bodyguard.”
“So you fend off unwanted feel-ups with your pistols all by your pretty self?”
“Soda in the eye stings worse than onion juice.”
He chuckled. “I bet.”
“I haven’t actually had to do it.”
He leaned in close. “You didn’t shoot me in the eye.”
He hadn’t given her a chance. “Why would I give up the opportunity to experience something with someone so skilled?” she cooed.
“Ah, so that’s what you really think of me.” He slapped his hand on his heart like she’d mortally wounded him. “But you know, this beach is teaming with guys who’ve slept with way more women than I have.”
She glared at him as he winked. He knew she’d just been making up a tart put-down.
“Don’t look so fierce, you’ll scare off your customers,” he teased.
“Actually, I’ve learned they like a woman with spirit.” She pushed past him and smiled at his sudden frown. “Don’t you look so fierce, you’re the one scaring them off.”
“Maybe you’re the one who should be scared. They could easily turn on you and you couldn’t get away. Now how would you handle that in your sexy warrior heroine outfit?”
Chapter Five
George: Don’t make the mistake of thinking an accent makes him a sex god.
Her customers turn on her? Becca rolled her eyes. Levi sounded worse than one of her over-protective cousins. The Wolfe men might be all high-action risk takers themselves, but they were fiercely concerned about the safety of others, especially females—and her the most, warning her to take care in most situations. She might have been quiet, but she wasn’t incapable. But though she’d grown up on the other side of the world from them, they’d been heavily influential without realizing it—flying in and inspiring her with their travel tales and confidence.
Eventually she’d gotten fed up with her parent’s cosseting and her own inaction. If her cousins could spend a year travelling the world on their own, earning their own way and choosing their own path, then so could she. She was taking her own risks. Calculated ones. And she wasn’t going to let Levi start in on the same old lecture she’d suffered through for months before she’d finally scraped together the cash to come away.
“There are plenty of women around,” she gestured towards the bathers on the beach. “I’m never far from the bar. So I suggest you stand back if you don’t want to get wet.”
Levi watched her stalk forward and call out to the people farther along the beach. Calling them to her like the siren she was. And they came. She told them the bar they ought to party on at and then gave them their “shots”.
“Line up, two rows.” She instructed confidently.
Once they did, she lifted her arms, firing shots of drink from her pistols in short streams straight into the open mouths of the zombies.
“Very Game Grrl.” He teased once her tank was emptied and the crowd had dissipated. But that concern lingered—she was more vulnerable than she’d admit.
Petite, pretty, utterly enticing.
She blew the end of the pistol as if it were smoking and looked up at him. “I’ve been practicing.”
“So now you’re an expert?” he asked.
They weren’t talking water pistols any more.
Levi’s muscles tightened. He recognized that look in her eyes. That not so gentle rise of color in her cheeks. It wasn’t embarrassment. Any woman who could so confidently stride along a packed beach offering energy shots to every stranger, and swatting away unwanted advances, wasn’t going to be easily embarrassed.
No, this was attraction. Lust. No longer quiet and shy, Becca Wolfe was all grown up. And she wanted him.
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