About the Book
Television reporter Chloe Masters is a woman of cool control … except when Casanova rugby league player Nick Savage is around. Then cool control goes out the window. Her boyfriend, Marcus, is everything she ever wanted – but it’s getting harder to deny her body’s reaction to Nick …
Nick Savage has been head-over-heels since he first laid eyes on Chloe – just a moment too late to stop her connecting with his teammate, Marcus. But when the goalposts shift and he and Chloe are thrown together on a week away, Nick dares her to get physical in whatever way she wants – with a kiss, a punch or anything in between. And if Chloe claims to feel nothing, he’ll leave her alone for good.
How can Chloe say no to a week of mindless passion with the man she hasn’t been able to get out of her head?
Trouble is, a lot can go wrong (or right) in a week …
Sometimes Mr Right is Mr Wrong, and Mr Wrong is definitely Mr Right …
Avril Tremayne
After a highly successful career in corporate communications, Avril Tremayne decided she needed a little more romance in her life.
And having tried her hand at shoe selling, nursing, teaching, and short-order cooking, before braving the corporate ladder as a high flying executive mixing it up with the business elite and an occasional celebrity, Avril has gathered more than enough raw material to kick-start a swag of tall tales.
She lives in Sydney, Australia, where her husband and daughter try to keep her out of trouble – not always successfully.
She’s a mad keen traveller, with more favourite cities than should be strictly allowable, and loves giving travel advice to anyone who asks – and a good few who don’t!
When she’s not writing or reading, Avril can generally be found eating – although she does not cook – drinking wine, and obsessing about shoes.
If you enjoyed this book, you’ll love these other stories by Avril Tremayne…
Now You’re Mine
by Avril Tremayne
‘You can be as curious and as confident as you want – with no limits …’
Journalist Jenna Martin has led a very unadventurous life – until now.
Sent to the Arabian desert to review an exclusive new holiday resort, she stumbles into the path of a beautiful, exotic stranger, Kalan Al Talyani.
Over one unforgettable night, the reclusive billionaire will tempt her, test her, seduce her, and offer her an electrifying taste of a life outside her comfort zone.
When Jenna returns to America she tells herself it was just a magical one-night stand, an experience that’s already starting to feel more dream than reality.
But then Kalan follows her home to Boston – and Jenna is forced to make a choice. Should she stay within the confines of her current life? Or take a risk on a life that’s different from anything she’s ever imagined …?
‘Seriously, Jenna, tell me what you want …’
East meets west in this exotic and highly sensual love story that will set temperatures soaring. Perfect for fans of E L James and Sylvia Day.
Available now!
Contents
Cover
About the Book
About the Author
Title Page
Dedication
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Acknowledgements
The Contract – Ad and Extract
Copyright Notice
Random Romance ad
Dedication
One of the things I love about this book is the strong bond between the three friends, Chloe, Drew and Evie, so I’m dedicating this book to three of my own friends from my formative school and university days – Eunice Noble, Joady McManus and Cate Carrigan.
CHAPTER ONE
Nick Savage was like the human incarnation of a heat-seeking missile.
Unfortunately, his target was me. Always, always, me.
I swear I’d only been alone at the champagne bar for one minute and twenty seconds before Nick locked on to my location, at which point I estimated it would take him five seconds to hit his target. Sadly, that didn’t give me enough time to throw myself overboard. It was barely enough time to assume the brace position, ready for impact – switching my regular aloof smile to full-scale hands-off mode, and layering on an extra coating of frost.
As it turned out, it took Nick a whole ten seconds to get to me – but only because he’d lost five seconds de-clinging a buxom brunette from his arm.
He reached around me to take a pre-poured glass of champagne off the bar. ‘On your own, Chloe. Why?’ As if being on a massive cruiser in the middle of Sydney Harbour, with a whole rugby league team and a gaggle of hangers-on, could truly be classified as ‘on your own’.
I raised my eyebrows at him, aloof smile intact. ‘Because I wanted to be on my own.’
‘Ouch! Poor Marcus.’
And there went my smile. ‘Poor Mar–? Oh for God’s –! I was not suggesting I needed to get away from –’ Stop. Right there. Because Nick knew exactly what I was suggesting. Which had nothing to do with Marcus and everything to do with him. ‘That is so funny, Nick. I almost can’t contain my hilarity.’
‘Oh, go on, let it out,’ he said, oh-so indulgently. ‘Repression never did anyone any good.’
‘Ha, ha, h–. Oh, wait a minute.’ I paused, did a little faux yawn. ‘Now where was I? Oh, yes: Ha.’
‘There now, doesn’t that feel better?’
I regarded him with hostility. ‘What I find interesting is that you’re here on your own. I thought we were all invited with partners today.’
He made a tsk tsk sound that had my palm itching to slap. ‘Now, Chloe, I’m sure you’ve read today’s papers, good journalist that you are, and that means you already know Amanda and I are history.’ He pulled a woebegone face that he knew wouldn’t fool me for a minute. ‘So here I am, lonely and looking for love.’
I flicked a disparaging glance at the hovering brunette. ‘Fast work, in that case. What’s the poor girl’s name, and where is she in the harem pecking order?’
He didn’t even look around. ‘Jane, and she’s a consenting adult joining the harem of her own accord.’
‘Lucky Jane! It’s every girl’s dream to win a place in such a respected establishment, you know.’
There was an almost infinitesimal pause, and then, ‘Nobody’s hurting anyone, Chloe.’
‘Hmm. I’m not sure Amanda would agree.’ I smiled thinly. ‘Seeing the man she loves move on to someone else the very day her own break-up makes the news.’
‘Except Amanda doesn’t love me,’ he said, unperturbed.
‘Oh, that’s right. It’s lust, not love, with you.’
‘She’s not here to see it, either.’
‘See it, read about it, same thing.’
‘Camera-free boat, Chloe.’
‘Well, I’m sure it will be a great relief to Amanda to have a break from the publicity, in that case,’ I said, knowing I should drop the subject but somehow unable to do the sensible thing and let it go. ‘I mean, wasn’t it only last month I read about her breaking up with your teammate?’ I made a little moue of distaste. ‘So … incestuous.’
Nick was nodding, as though at a
memory. ‘Jed. Great guy. But no longer my “incestuous” teammate, since he switched teams at the end of last season.’ He raised his eyebrows at me this time. ‘Oh, you didn’t know?’ Another of those aggravating tsk tsks. ‘Don’t tell me you’ve lost interest in your boyfriend’s game so soon!’
‘Not in the game, only in the tawdry affairs of its players.’
His eyes narrowed fractionally. ‘Just to be clear, Amanda gave the story to the paper, not me. So if you’re getting out the tissue box, do it on my behalf, not hers.’
I managed a dismissive sniff.
‘What is it, Chloe? I don’t have the right to resent getting my sex life splashed all over the papers? Because I can tell you, my sponsors aren’t too pleased. On the other hand, Amanda tells me it’s good for her television career to have her love life in the gossip pages.’
I struggled to find an answer to that, because it didn’t suit my view of Nick. Nick wasn’t the type to be manipulated; he was the type to use and discard women – and yes, I knew women lined up regardless, but that didn’t make his behaviour any more acceptable to me.
‘So tell me,’ he said. ‘Is it?’
‘Is what?’
‘Is it a good career move for a person in television to date a footballer? Because I notice you got a nice promotion to Around the Globe after that piece about you and Marcus appeared in the gossip pages a couple of months ago.’
‘I’m not a starlet, I’m a serious journalist,’ I said coldly. ‘And I’m not dating Marcus-the-footballer, I’m dating Marcus-the-man-I-happen-to-love.’
‘Well, you love something about him, I’ll give you that.’
Do not rise to the bait, Chloe, do not. ‘I’ll give you a hint about finding true love, Nick, you poor lonely man. It takes being with a person for longer than two weeks.’
‘Hey,’ he remonstrated with a grin – an actual grin! ‘Amanda was a three-weeker.’
‘But Sheila who came before her, and Constance who came before Sheila, were two-weeks apiece. I also recall a Beth and a Samantha and a Jess who didn’t even make it past one week.’ I raised my glass in a mock toast, and took a small sip.
‘You’ve been keeping track?’ he asked, still grinning. ‘Sure you’re not a teensy bit jealous?’
I choked on my champagne. The gall of him.
‘Because you know, Chloe, all you have to do is say the word and I’m yours.’
‘For two whole weeks?’ I laughed, even though I was far from amused. ‘Er, no thanks.’
‘Why put a time frame on it?’
‘Because that’s your modus operandi. Lust not love, two weeks, goodbye.’
‘Well, I’ll tell you, Chloe, I’ll take two weeks, if that’s all you’ll give me. But you can bet I’ll make them the best two weeks of your life.’
And I figured that was about as much as a girl could take without letting fly with a fist – which I’d promised myself never to do again. Ever. It was time to relocate. ‘Excuse me,’ I said, preparing to glide past him.
Nick grabbed my wrist before I could effect a getaway. His grin had fled. ‘Why don’t you give the act a rest, Miss Perfect Girlfriend, and leave Marcus to enjoy himself with the guys?’
‘I beg your pardon?’ I said, and my voice was so arctic, Nick should have sustained immediate frostbite to at least one extremity.
But Nick was apparently immune to the cold; the bastard was an eyelid droop away from a well-heated smoulder.
‘Beg,’ he said, as though he were rolling the word around on his tongue like a drop of syrup. ‘I like that word coming out of your mouth.’
I snatched my wrist free. ‘Beg is something I’ll never do for you.’ And damn, damn, damn, there was nothing arctic about the way I spat that out!
‘But you just did beg me, Chloe. Although it’s not my “pardon” I’m interested in giving you. I’m interested in giving you something else entirely.’
Oh. My. God. ‘You. Are. An animal.’
‘As are all humans. Mammals, to be precise.’
‘Some have just evolved a little further than Neanderthals since the Ice Age.’
‘That’s me. Savage by name, savage by nature.’ He leaned in, so close his breath stirred my hair, setting off a tiny, unwelcome shiver. ‘But the way I see it, you’re the one trapped in the Ice Age. Brrr.’ Pause as he eased back enough for me to take a normal breath. ‘At least, that’s what you want us all to think, isn’t it, Chloe?’
Enough. I was going. And I wasn’t bothering with an ‘Excuse me’ this time.
But his hand shot out again, detaining me. ‘Don’t worry, the thing I want to give you isn’t an orgasm that’ll blow your mind, if that’s what you’re thinking – although I could. What I want to give you, at least at this moment, is advice. Loosen the reins, Chloe. If you loosen the reins, you and Marcus might both find out where you’re supposed to be.’
For a moment, all I could do was blink at Nick, speechless. Blink, blink, breathe, blink – the way I’d trained myself to do, as a way of mastering the urge to scream and thump and claw when things felt like they were spiralling out of my control.
‘I know where I’m supposed to be,’ I said. ‘With my boyfriend. You know, your friend? Teammate? The team captain? That guy? But I’ll tell you what, Nick. If you really think I’ll spoil his fun with the guys, there’s something very simple you can do to keep me away from him.’ I nodded towards the conglomeration of thick-necked footballers surrounding Marcus on the other side of the cruiser cabin. ‘Just go over there yourself. That’s a sure fire way to keep me all the way over here. And while you’re on your way over, try to remember it’s not nice to hit on a teammate’s girl.’
‘Except under certain … conditions.’
‘Getting a kick out of tormenting a girl isn’t a valid condition.’
‘Then tell me a better way to get you to notice me, Chloe,’ he said, and for once there wasn’t even a hint of a taunt – not in his voice, his face or the words.
My breath jammed in my throat as I looked at him. His eyes, so dark they were almost black, were both serious and watchful, and there was a grim set to his mouth I’d never recognised before. His hand, gripping my wrist, felt like it was branding me. A little trickle of fear etched a path down my spine. ‘I don’t want to notice you,’ I said.
‘Do you think I don’t know that? But circumstances can change.’
‘And are you going to enlighten me as to what those changing circumstances may be?’
Another pause while he looked at me. He half-opened his mouth, as though to speak … but then closed it and shook his head. ‘That’s something you’ll have to find out on your own.’
‘Then I suggest you let go of me. And stop hitting on me – you lack the finesse to carry it off.’
He looked down at where his hand engulfed my wrist. In his grip, my wrist looked thinner and paler than usual. Vulnerable. Or maybe it was just that his hand seemed giant to me, which was crazy, because he was the same size as Marcus. Marcus just didn’t seem so … so Hulk-like, somehow.
‘I lack finesse, do I? That’s okay, Chloe. I have other attributes.’ His fingers loosened; his hand slid up my forearm, then back down.
‘Which you share around a little too freely for my taste.’
A dare-you-to-lose-it look was in his heavy-lidded eyes. ‘I don’t share all my toys, Chloe. Remember that, when the time comes.’
I tried to laugh, tried to scoff, to sneer, to … something. But I wasn’t capable of making a sound. What did that even mean? When the time comes? The time wasn’t coming, as far as I was concerned. Ever.
Then, suddenly, my wrist was free, and Nick was stepping back, holding up his hand as though to say ‘best behaviour’. I found myself rubbing my wrist against my thigh because it was tingling, somehow. And I did not want to do any tingling around Nick Savage. In fact, I didn’t want to do any uncontrolled tingling, period.
Marcus. I needed Marcus to untingle me.
I
looked over at him, and I must have been radiating some powerful kind of electromagnetic ‘save me’ rays, because I managed to snag his attention away from the guys – not an easy thing to do once they were deep in football talk. He smiled and waved me over, and I felt instantly steadier. ‘The time you’re thinking about?’ I said to Nick. ‘It’s the twelfth of never. But right now, my boyfriend wants me to join him.’
Nick turned, and I almost groaned as Marcus included him in the wave to join the group. Seriously, could Marcus not see what was happening right under his nose?
But it seemed Nick had filled his daily quota of Chloe-baiting, because he did a smile/headshake/hand gesture pantomime indicating he was going out on deck instead.
And then Nick turned back to me, and his smile slipped. ‘It won’t be the twelfth of never, Chloe. I won’t wait that long,’ he said, and all the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. ‘In fact, time’s almost up.’
And as I stood there, stunned into silence, Nick threw back his champagne and put the glass back on the bar. ‘What are you waiting for, Miss Perfect Girlfriend? Off you go. Run away.’
‘It’s not running away when you’re going where you’re wanted.’
‘You’re wanted here. More. By me.’
I stared at him, desperately trying – failing – to keep the panic at bay. It was as though everything was stripped away with those words. No more innuendo. No ambiguity. Nothing that could be brushed off or ignored. I couldn’t pretend to myself that he was just getting a kick out of provoking me, or that I was being overly sensitive, or that I was reading something into his words that wasn’t really there.
Escaping Mr Right Page 1