The Party Dare (Mills & Boon Modern Tempted)

by Anne Oliver

  It seemed an age since she’d left those rumpled sheets that smelled of sweet sin this morning. In other ways, it seemed like a minute, and the minutes were ticking away. This was their last night here. Better make the most of it. The bed was now as smooth as a lake, the edge of the crisp white sheet folded down in invitation, butter-coloured Singapore orchids on the pillow.

  In the dimness, she stripped off her clothes where she stood. She walked to the full-length sliding doors that led to their balcony, which was bedecked with a profusion of purple bougainvillaea. Singapore’s cityscape of lights dazzled.

  ‘Brie.’ Leo’s voice was close but not intimately so, even though he was using her shortened name—which seemed to stick in his throat. She could see his reflection over her shoulder.

  ‘Don’t turn around,’ he said, so quickly that she barely picked up on the thread of tension tightening his vocal chords.

  ‘This trip’s been amazing,’ he said. ‘You’ve been amazing. You are amazing.’

  She watched in astonishment as he slid something heavy around her neck. A necklace. And not just any necklace. Tiny rainbows twinkled on her décolletage. She’d have sworn he’d stolen it from some royal collection except that this wasn’t ornate and overdone. It was a modern asymmetrical design in gold with a row of diamonds along one edge. Simple yet striking. Astonishment swiftly turned to panic.

  Oh. No. ‘What have you done?’ Shaking her head, she turned to him, flung her hands in the air. ‘What does this mean?’

  ‘That I... That I’d like to keep seeing you when we get back.’

  ‘What do you mean? I don’t understand what you mean by that.’ Her voice rose a couple of notches as she fought the conflicting emotions twisting like razor ribbons inside her. ‘Or this.’ She lifted the heavy gold away from her skin, felt the runaway pulse at her neck as she did so.

  ‘It means I’d like us to be more. It means I want to explore us further and see where it leads.’

  Her heart turned over, her blood ran hot then cold. She couldn’t look at him and turned away. ‘I thought we wanted the same thing. A no-strings kind of thing. A fun kind of thing. We agreed that day in my office, remember? You looked horrified with the notion that it should be anything other than just sex.’

  ‘Who says we can’t change our minds?’ he said behind her.

  ‘You’ve changed your mind?’ She stared at his reflection behind her. He’d changed his mind. ‘Oh my God...’ She shoved at the balcony door so she wouldn’t see his reflection and it slid open silently. She barely noticed the clammy evening air on her naked skin. All she could feel was the necklace’s heavy weight. The String. ‘I thought you understood already—I’m not like other women. I don’t want gifts.’

  ‘What do you want, Breanna?’

  It hurt, irrationally so, that he’d reverted to the safety of his formality. Cool, displeased formality. ‘I want us to continue the way we have been.’

  ‘And we can,’ he assured her. ‘I’m not talking marriage and everlasting, I’m simply suggesting a more stable ongoing arrangement. A more exclusive arrangement.’

  His last words chilled her. Just like the boys back in her teens who assumed... She spun to face him. ‘I don’t sleep around. I already told you: if I’m sleeping with a guy, he’s the only guy I’m sleeping with. And I expect the same from that guy.’

  ‘I crossed that possibility off the list a long time ago, baby doll.’

  ‘There you go again—baby doll? For heaven’s sakes, I’m hardly petite.’ To divert the topic of old prejudices, she reached deep down inside for aggravation.

  ‘What I meant was I want you to feel you can trust me to be exclusive. Don’t take it off,’ he said, when she reached behind for the necklace’s clasp.

  ‘It was a no-strings deal.’ She lifted the gold away from her skin. ‘You do realise this is a string in our no-strings agreement, don’t you?’

  His brows lifted in genuine surprise. ‘It’s no such thing. Calm down. We can keep it as simple as you want.’

  She did as he requested and left The String alone because she didn’t want to spoil this night and, judging by his response, maybe she was overreacting. He’d just promised to keep it as simple as she wanted. ‘I don’t need a pet name. Unless it’s Brie.’

  ‘You’re still a shorty to me. Brie. And we’ll do this however you want, so don’t stress.’

  Her smile came slowly at the reassurance in his voice and the laughter lines crinkling around his eyes; she was relieved they seemed to be on track once more. ‘There’ll be no stressing tonight,’ she promised him. ‘And maybe I am petite after all coz you’re the tallest man I’ve ever been with.’

  ‘And you’re the tallest woman I’ve been with. But you’re still a shorty.’ He patted her head. ‘With me you’ll always be a shorty.’

  With me. Always. The words rolled off his tongue as if he meant forever and was totally comfortable with it. As if he’d made up his mind and expected her to fall in with his decisions.

  She didn’t want forever. She wanted freedom. She wanted to leave her options open in case... In case. No heart, no hurt.

  But forever was no closer, no more substantial than hopes and wishes. Now was in her grasp. She could feel it. Now surrounded her, the way Leo surrounded her. His scent, his touch, the sound of his quickened breathing near her ear.

  And for now, for once, she’d forget he’d tried to change the rules they’d agreed to play by. She lifted her arms around his neck and clung tight. ‘For tonight, can we just be lovers?’

  Leo thought he heard an edge of desperation to her plea. In answer, he hauled her naked body flush against him. He filled his hands with her breasts while he nuzzled behind her ear and murmured, ‘Where do you want me to start?’

  ‘Right there’s just fine,’ she breathed. ‘And make it slow, make it last, you’re so good at that.’

  He smiled into her hair. Damned if he understood this perplexing woman, but at least he knew what she wanted in the bedroom. She smelled of sweet tropical blooms and midnight and he set about filling her request to the best of his ability.

  * * *

  They landed in Sydney at seven-thirty on Monday morning. Once through Customs, Brie was continuing to Hobart without Leo. Seemed he had a connecting flight to Melbourne that he’d neglected to tell her about.

  ‘So when will you be back in Hobart?’ she asked as they manoeuvred their luggage towards the taxi stand.

  ‘A couple of days. I need to help Sunny pack and since I’ve not heard back from her...’ mini hesitation—unusual for a man who was always in charge of everything and everyone ‘...I want to check everything’s on schedule.’ Swinging his cabin bag over his shoulder, he opened a taxi door for her. ‘Any plans for this week?’

  ‘Apart from working my butt off to make up for lost time?’

  His smile was fleeting. ‘I meant evenings.’

  She knew that. It was time to pull back; she needed breathing space. Just space. ‘A charity event and three parties.’ She didn’t know who was socialising yet but she’d find them. She always did. ‘I’ll need tonight off to find Party Babe Brie—she’s been MIA lately. Oh...’ She pulled out The String tucked inside its velvet box, held it out. ‘I don’t need gifts to remember what a wonderful time I had, but I do appreciate the sentiment behind it.’

  His whole body tightened, stiffened.

  Brutally offended.

  ‘Do what you want with it. Sell it. Or auction it for your charity.’

  She didn’t need to see his eyes behind his sunglasses to read his emotions in his body language and tone of voice and she wanted to weep and rage with frustration. She knew no sane woman would have refused such a gift. He still didn’t get it—still didn’t understand that she wasn’t like other women. And right now, a little insane.

  Did he still not realise he’d broken the rules of their agreement? ‘Leo...’ she ventured, then paused, lost for words.

  ‘You getting in, budd
y?’ she heard the cabbie ask.

  Leo shook his head once. ‘Domestic terminal for the lady, please,’ he said. And pushed the door shut.

  * * *

  Leo opened the front door of his Melbourne home an hour later to discover the entire hallway lined with packing boxes, sealed and ready for transportation.

  He dumped his cabin bag at his feet and bellowed, ‘Sunny!’ And instantly regretted his lapse. Given their shared pasts any show of temper towards his sister was an unforgivable sin. He’d seen what damage runaway emotions could do by watching his father.

  But today something tore free and wouldn’t be leashed. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘Leo. Hi.’ She came out of the lounge. ‘I was—’

  He swept a hand over her belongings. ‘I told you to wait.’

  ‘Didn’t need to.’ Her awkward gait was more pronounced today as she moved towards him on her crutch.

  He wanted to hit something but curled his fists instead. ‘Overdoing it as usual, Miss Independent?’

  She blinked, but to her credit she didn’t react to his outburst. ‘Not at all,’ she said. ‘I’m fine. I’m not sure about you though.’

  ‘You didn’t return my call.’ Dammit, he wanted an argument from her.

  ‘A friend helped me. I knew you were busy and I wanted to get it done.’ She looked up at him, concern in her blue eyes. ‘Weekend didn’t go well?’

  He waved it off. He didn’t want to talk about the weekend. He’d told her he was going to Singapore for business and might have mentioned he might take a friend along. A mistake to tell her. Bigger mistake to have tried to combine business with pleasure. He focused on the more immediate concern. ‘It appears you’re ready to leave.’

  ‘The moving van should be here any minute.’

  ‘You were going to leave without telling me.’ Something twisted inside him. She really was branching out into the world on her own. He wanted to put his arms around her and protect her as he’d always done but she didn’t need him any more—hadn’t for some time. He’d chosen not to notice but now the reality was staring him in the face, literally.

  ‘No, Leo. Of course not,’ she soothed. ‘The stuff’s going but I’m catching tomorrow afternoon’s flight. I couldn’t leave without sharing a last supper with my favourite brother. You will be here tonight, won’t you? Mrs J’s making our favourite dumpling stew.’

  He breathed out slowly. ‘I’ll be here. Tell me your flight details, I’ve got a meeting in the city tomorrow afternoon but I’ll change it and come back when I’ve got you settled in.’

  ‘Leo. I’m flying down with a friend from the new orchestra,’ she said gently. ‘I’m staying with him until my stuff arrives. At least a week or two.’

  Leo felt as if he’d turned to stone. ‘He.’ He watched her wait for some sign of support from him, but he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. She didn’t need his permission or his approval. ‘Gregor Goldsworthy.’

  ‘He’ll take good care of me.’

  Suck it up, big brother, and say nothing to dim that smile on her face. ‘Make sure he does or he’ll answer to me.’

  Her smile widened, reaching her sparkling blue eyes. ‘It’s a good feeling knowing I have my brother at my back if I need him.’

  If she needed him. Something brighter burned in her eyes, he noticed now, and it tore at something deep. Big changes were coming. He felt as if everything was slipping away from him. ‘Why the sudden decision to leave now?’

  ‘You said the renovation was finished. I decided to move straight away so you’ll have this place to yourself.’ She smiled. ‘That way you won’t have to sneak around any more when you want to bring someone home with you.’

  The only person he wanted to bring home was Brie. ‘I’ve had to put my stuff in East Wind for a bit, so it could be a case of reversed situations. I’ve taken a spare room and in the meantime I promise to stay out of your way.’

  ‘What happened to the arrangement with...Breanna, isn’t it?’

  ‘Wasn’t working out.’

  ‘Aah.’ A woman’s knowing eyes focused on him, which was odd, since they were his little sister’s eyes. ‘So Breanna’s the mystery girl who’s had you tied up in knots.’ Her smile sobered; her blue eyes sympathised. ‘What happened?’

  He shrugged, his shoulders tense. ‘No mystery. I took her out a couple of times. So what?’

  ‘So Singapore’s no ordinary date, that’s what.’

  ‘I didn’t...’ He leaned a tight shoulder against the wall. He’d never slide this one past Sunny. Defeat—it felt a lot like defeat, and it was an unfamiliar sensation. But she was the only person he’d ever confided in. ‘If someone gave you a diamond necklace,’ he said slowly, ‘what would you do?’

  ‘Diamonds.’ She tapped her chin, her eyes searching his. ‘That’s serious bling.’

  ‘No.’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘It was just a souvenir. Token. Something simple. How would you receive it? And don’t overanalyse.’

  ‘It would depend on who he was and how we defined our relationship.’

  There she went, all deep and meaningful again. He shook his head. ‘Forget it, it’s not important.’

  ‘Are you talking about the relationship or the diamonds?’

  ‘Neither. Both.’ Hell. ‘A simple answer without the psychobabble would have sufficed.’

  He turned on his heel but she reached out with her crutch, tapped his arm, forcing him to turn back. ‘You didn’t let me finish. If I wasn’t sure where I stood with the guy concerned, or where the relationship was headed, or even if I thought we might want different things from such a relationship, I might be wary of accepting such a gift.’

  Considering, he scratched his bristled jaw. Had he got too intense too soon? Was Brie simply being cautious? Or was she guarded and hiding how she really felt behind that nonchalant attitude she was so good at because she was afraid?

  For a guy who dated often, he was clueless about this particular woman who was the polar opposite of the sort he was accustomed to. ‘Thanks.’ He lifted a finger. ‘If this friend of yours—the one whose home you’re going to be staying in—if he gave you a...token of his...’ He lifted a hand, dropped it.

  ‘I’d say thank you and wear it with love.’

  ‘Love?’

  She nodded and something burned in her eyes.

  He turned, muttered, ‘Let me get used to it,’ and headed back the way he’d come.

  ‘It’s okay to show you care, Leo,’ Sunny said behind him. ‘Whether it works out the way you want it to or not, expressing your feelings—however you do that—is not a weakness. When are you going to get that through that stubborn head of yours?’

  TWELVE

  Brie was extremely busy the first couple of days after their return. She was grateful for it. But the evenings were a different story. Solo and filled with the fast clack of her knitting needles rather than party sounds. Chamomile tea instead of red wine.

  She hadn’t even wanted Sam’s company. Or maybe she didn’t want to foist her poor humour onto her friend.

  She’d returned to West Wind as soon as she’d read Leo’s brief text explaining he’d moved out. No matter how spacious and elegant and modern the retreat was, West Wind was home and she’d missed it. Its solitude and class. The smell of fresh pine cones in the fireplace. The wind song through the row of pencil pines that divided the two homes. There was something so comforting about the familiar.

  She couldn’t believe what he’d done with her garden shed. Everything tidy and sorted and shelved from empty pots to fertiliser to tools. Plastic labels on those shelves. A pretty sign on the inside of the door: A place for everything and everything in its place. Was he serious?

  Why would he go to those lengths for her?

  The more she thought about it, the faster her needles clacked. It was another kind of String. She’d be indebted to him for taking time out of his busy schedule and away from all those other people depending on his vast experie
nce. She’d be obliged to thank him in some way for his kindness and generosity—which wasn’t the problem—except that she hadn’t asked for his help.

  She was independent by choice. Free. Unencumbered. Uncommitted. And she loved it that way. She did.

  Tossing her knitting down, she stood, flexing cramped fingers. Without words, Leo was saying she didn’t know what she was doing in any aspect of her life and needed him to help her out of her mess. That he was just the man for the job.

  Leo was trying to change her into someone she wasn’t. Someone she didn’t want to be. He’d stripped her naked in more ways than one and exposed her shortcomings and insecurities.

  She swiped up the radio’s remote, aimed and pressed, but she found the music’s happy beat irritating and switched it off. Where was Party Babe Brie when she needed her distraction? No one distracted Brie better than her party persona and yet she seemed to have disappeared.

  He’d made her lie.

  The truth? Leo Hamilton was a good man. A dependable, responsible, kind, caring, generous, witty, sexy, clever, creative and amazing man.

  He was just bad for her.

  * * *

  Leo had an appointment in country Victoria on Tuesday, and back-to-back meetings in Melbourne’s CBD, on Wednesday, so he didn’t make it back to Hobart until late Wednesday evening.

  He lay on his inflatable mattress in the dark. He could’ve stayed in a hotel for the night but he’d wanted to check on East Wind. And he’d wanted to be close to West Wind.

  His usual evening leisure activities hadn’t worked for him in Melbourne; they weren’t working here. Since returning from Singapore, no amount of reading or killer Sudokus—not even Sunny’s enchanting violin CD—could prevent his thoughts from wandering to Brie.

  Because things had been up in the air and awkward when they’d said goodbye at Sydney airport, he’d sent her a text message to say he’d moved out of her place and into East Wind and left her a note advising her of same on her kitchen table. He still had her spare set of house keys.