by Nicola Marsh
"No idea why you're blowing smoke up my arse, Zane, but quit it." Steele leaned over to Wyatt and jerked a thumb at Zane. "He's the superstar in the family and thinks I have a hang-up because of it."
"Know the feeling."
Steele nodded. "So Kurt's a big deal in football, I hear?"
"A superstar ten times over." Wyatt kept the bitterness from his tone, but he must've let slip a tell because his half-brothers eyed him with speculation.
"Bet that comes at a price," Zane said. "I should know."
"Yeah, must be tough beating models and actresses off with a stick," Steele said, with what Wyatt was fast recognizing as his signature dry humor.
Zane rolled his eyes. "I'll leave you nerds together while I go hang out with my gorgeous girlfriend."
Steele pressed a thumb to his forehead. "Yep, under this, and balls in her pocket."
"Fuck off," Zane said, without a hint of malice. "Catch you later."
As Zane wandered off in search of Chantal, Steele turned back to him. "Is the redhead your girlfriend?"
Wyatt liked Steele's bluntness but talking women with a guy he'd just met, albeit his half-brother, felt plain weird. "Nah, she's a choreographer here."
"You seemed pretty tight?"
"She asked me out," he blurted, sounding like an idiot. He never shared personal stuff with anyone but Steele was different. He sensed a kindred spirit, a guy who'd prefer getting lost in his work than socializing. Then again, he knew next to nothing about the guy so maybe he was off base.
"And that's a bad thing because?"
Wyatt shrugged. "Not sure what her angle is."
Steele frowned. "She has an angle?"
"Girls who look like her don't usually go for guys like me."
Steele's mouth quirked into a wry smile. "Considering we look alike, I beg to differ."
Wyatt chuckled. "So you pull a lot of babes in Oz, huh?"
"I do okay."
By the way Steele straightened his shoulders and puffed his chest out, Wyatt reckoned he did better than okay.
"Steady girlfriend?"
Steele shook his head. "No one special. You?"
"Same."
Truth was Wyatt had never had a girlfriend. The occasional fling at conferences was so far from a relationship it wasn't funny. He preferred it that way. But watching Zane with Chantal, he had to admit to a twinge of jealousy.
Steele beckoned to some barstools nearby and they sat. "So you don't know her that well?"
"Not really. We met in the office once and then she waylays me the second I walked in here."
"Maybe it's the Harrison charm?"
Wyatt snorted. "My charm works fine on software. Elsewhere? Not so much."
"What about your brother?"
Wyatt bit back his first retort, 'don't you mean our brother'. Zane had clued him in that Steele visiting the States was a big deal, that he was willing to meet his half-brothers but didn't want Christopher mentioned, that he was wary of his US family in general.
"Kurt has more women than he knows what to do with."
"Lucky bastard." Funnily enough, Steele made him sound far from lucky with the right amount of derision. "Do you guys hang out much?"
"Rarely. But he'll want to meet you."
"Yeah?" Steele looked pleased for a moment before he schooled his expression into an inscrutable mask that Wyatt guessed was his version of a poker face.
"He likes to suss out the competition."
"Competition?" The furrow between Steele's brows deepened. "I don't get it."
"Christopher's company is worth millions. Kurt thought he was the eldest so he'd inherit. Then you come along."
"I don't want that bastard's money." Steele scowled, his eyes flashing fire.
"Ditto, but Kurt doesn't know that, and considering you're the eldest Harrison, he'll be nervous."
Steele cocked his head. "You call him Christopher?"
"We've never been close."
Understatement of the year. Thinking about his father made Wyatt want to rub his chest to ease the ache that flared with anything remotely connected to dear old Dad.
"At least he was around," Steele said, resentment twisting his mouth.
Wyatt understood Steele's bitterness all too well. Christopher may have abandoned his Australian sons to start a new family in the States, but their father had never been around for him either. Not in any real way that mattered.
"Physically, maybe, but that's where it ended." Wyatt shrugged like it meant little when in fact he despised his father for how callous he could be.
Steele opened his mouth, as if he wanted to say more, then closed it again, his lips compressed into a thin, angry line.
Wyatt felt obliged to fill the silence. "You know he'll want to meet you too."
"Tough," Steele said, anger evident in his rigid neck muscles. "I don't give a flying fuck what the old man wants."
"My sentiments exactly, but a word of advice?"
When Steele remained silent, Wyatt continued. "Christopher will never change. He's a selfish, narcissistic bastard and even the ever-optimistic Zane realized it damn quick. But you don't want to head home filled with regret and that's what'll probably happen."
"What do you know about regret?" Steele snarled, before tempering it with a tap on the shoulder in silent apology.
"I know enough." Sometimes, it felt like regret had become Wyatt's middle name.
He regretted not bonding with his family as a kid. He regretted not following his dream of being a game app designer. Most of all, he regretted shutting himself away as a teen, losing himself in a virtual world to the point he had no idea how to interact with women in the real world.
Women like Ashlin.
"Sorry, mate." Steele slapped him on the back. "As you can see, Christopher's a sore topic for me."
"Don't blame you," Wyatt said. "The way he left you and Zane in Australia to start a new life over here and never got in contact again? Unbe-fucking-lievable."
"You got that right."
Wyatt glimpsed pain—the type of soul-deep pain that makes your bones ache—in Steele's eyes.
"But let's not waste another second talking about him." Some of the tension drained from Steele's face. "What are you going to do about the redhead?"
What Wyatt wanted to do with Ashlin couldn't be articulated in public.
"Nothing."
Steele's eyes narrowed, as if he was thinking hard. "Why don't you call her bluff?"
"How?"
Steele sniggered. "Sometimes beautiful women who are super confident enjoy toying with shy guys. It's a game to them. Maybe you should call her on it?"
"I don't think Ashlin's like that—"
"How well do you know her?"
"I don't."
"Then how do you know she's not playing you?"
Wyatt didn't have a frigging clue why Ashlin had asked him out but if what Steele said was true, he'd be pissed.
Was she toying with him because she could? Expecting him to run because he had 'social outcast' or 'computer geek' tattooed on his forehead?
"Do women really do that kind of thing?"
Steele chuckled. "Mate, women who look like that stunning redhead are capable of anything."
The more he thought about Ashlin goading him for her own amusement, the angrier Wyatt got. Who the hell did she think she was?
"Call her bluff, huh?"
Steele nodded. "Yep. You be the aggressor. Take her up on her offer. Push the envelope. See how she reacts."
Steele's plan sounded good. Except Wyatt wouldn't have a clue how to push Ashlin to do anything.
"Think about it," Steele said. "I'm outta here, but maybe we can meet up for a drink tomorrow and you can tell me how you got on?"
"Sure." Wyatt shook his brother's hand. This time, Steele didn't try to fracture every bone. "That'd be great."
"See you then." Steele jerked a thumb over his shoulder, where Zane was cozying up with Chantal. "Say bye to the dickhead
for me."
"Shall do."
"No worries." Steele paused. "With the redhead? Don't do anything I wouldn't do."
Wyatt's nervous chuckle belied his nerves.
Because what the hell would he do with Ashlin?
CHAPTER THREE
"See that guy who's leaving?" Miranda elbowed Ashlin in the ribs. "The one by the door?"
Ashlin craned her neck, catching a glimpse of dirty-blond hair and a designer suit. "Yeah, that’s Zane's brother, Steele."
"That's Zane's brother?" Miranda's eyes widened. "Uh-oh."
"Why? What happened?"
Miranda gnawed on her bottom lip. "Uh…I may have called him an uptight prick."
Ashlin winced. "Ouch."
Miranda groaned. "How was I supposed to know the guy's practically Chantal's family?"
"Chantal and Zane aren't married," Ashlin said, knowing it was a matter of time, her friend was that smitten with the hot Aussie.
"But they will be." Miranda pointed at the far end of the bar. "Take a look. Have you ever seen anything so sickening in all your life?"
Ashlin glanced over in time to see Zane say something very dirty if Chantal's shocked yet mischievous expression was any indication. Closely followed by a lip lock that would need a crowbar to pry them apart.
"They barely know each other." A fact that surprised Ashlin on a daily basis since the hunky Aussie had bowled into town.
In all the years she'd known Chantal, she'd never seen the bold blonde as anything other than a man-eater. A woman so confident she could make a guy wither with a single glance. Chantal rarely dated so the fact she'd fallen hard for the Aussie in a month made Ashlin wonder if she should buy ice skates for the newly frozen Hades.
"When you connect on that level, what's to know?" Miranda's wistful sigh drew Ashlin's attention away from the happy couple. "I'd love to find a guy who looks at me the way Zane looks at her."
Surprised by the sudden sadness down-turning her friend's mouth, Ashlin slipped her arm around Miranda's shoulders and hugged. "You will."
"I'm starting to seriously doubt it." Miranda rested her head on Ashlin's shoulder a moment before straightening. "Mamma's been planning a big Italian wedding for as long as I can remember and the fact I'm turning thirty soon means the pressure is sky-high."
"She wants grandkids, huh?"
Miranda screwed up her nose. "You'd think having my three older sisters produce ten kids between them would be enough?" She shook her head. "Nooooo…apparently I'm neglecting my duty as a good Italian girl to find a good husband, make a good home and produce a brood of good kids."
Ashlin laughed at Miranda's faux Italian accent. "Here's a tip for you, babe. Hanging around Chantal's cocktail parties won't help you find a guy, considering the dancers are all female."
Miranda's gaze drifted to the door again. "Steele Harrison looked the part but what a jerk."
"What happened?"
"He gave me crap about my necklace so I trod on his toes."
Ashlin glanced down at Miranda's signature stilettos. "With those?"
She had the grace to blush. "Yeah. Must've hurt."
"Remind me never to comment on your jewelry."
Miranda fingered the wooden beaded and feathered string hanging around her neck. "This stuff promotes my business so what would Mr. High-and-Mighty know about it?"
Ashlin tended to agree with Steele about the ugliness of Miranda's necklace but she would never tell her friend that. "What did he say?"
"Made some wisecrack about being allergic to birds so I shouldn't wear a menagerie around my neck." Miranda's quick look-away suggested there was more behind this story.
"Why would he have a dig at you for no reason?"
"Well…" Miranda’s faux innocence wasn’t convincing. "I may have bailed him up and said our cocktail parties are private, and not open to every sleazy troll who wanders back here from the showroom."
Ashlin let out a whoop of laughter. "You thought he was a peep from the audience?"
Miranda nodded. "Guess he didn't take too kindly to being mistaken for a patron." She chuckled. “Or being called a sleazy troll.”
"And then you stomped on him and called him an uptight prick?" Ashlin couldn't contain her giggles. "Even though he's cute, perhaps you should set your sights elsewhere."
"I'm not setting my sights on anyone." Miranda folded her arms and pouted. "Besides, you looked cozy with Wyatt when my battle with Steele ended."
"He's nice enough." And not interested in me, just the way I like it.
"You know he's shy and you'll have to put the moves on him?"
Which is exactly why she'd done it. Knowing Wyatt wouldn't reciprocate meant she’d done her duty in the dating stakes for another few weeks. The part where she felt oddly rejected when he walked away? She hadn't counted on that.
"I tried."
Miranda wolf-whistled. "And? When are you two going out?"
"We're not."
"Why?"
"He said no."
Miranda's eyes widened. "To you? The guy must be blind or gay."
Ashlin suspected neither and she wasn't going to waste another moment mulling why Wyatt didn't want to have a coffee with her.
"Not to worry." Ashlin winked. "His loss."
"You said it, girlfriend." Miranda's smile faded. "You know we're a couple of pathetic losers, right, rocking up to this party every four weeks for the last few years without a hot guy in tow?"
Ashlin grabbed two shot glasses from a passing waiter and handed one to Miranda. "Who needs a guy when we've got tequila?"
"True." Miranda tapped her glass lightly against Ashlin's. "Drink up."
However, as Ashlin tossed back the liquor and it burned a path down her throat, she couldn't help but wonder why Wyatt had said no.
CHAPTER FOUR
Wyatt knew he was a sad case.
Leaving a cocktail party brimming with hot babes to check on a systems update would get him committed by any self-respecting guy. But that's the way he rolled. He could understand IT configurations. Women, not so much.
As he let himself into Chantal's office where he stored his equipment for this job, he pondered Steele's advice. While the brother he'd just met could be talking out his ass, it made him madder than hell to think Ashlin had targeted him for kicks.
"Fuck," he muttered, scanning a mini hard-drive to detect any faults, wishing he knew enough about women to figure out what her motivation had been.
Not that it mattered. He'd be winding up this job shortly and the chances of running into her again were minimal. Suited him just fine.
Then why the twinge of regret that he hadn't taken her up on her offer?
Hell, she hadn't invited him back to her place for the night. She'd suggested coffee. Could barely be labeled a frigging date. Yet he'd baulked anyway. It sucked having his entire world revolve around computers so the infrequent hook-ups he'd had were with gamer girls.
When a woman like Ashlin spoke to him, he could barely respond, not without sounding a dufus.
The door to the office swung open. Great, that's all he needed, for Chantal to bust him hiding out here rather than socializing at her party. She'd insisted he attend and when Zane had got on his case too, he hadn't come up with a plausible excuse fast enough.
Eager to escape, he powered down the hard-drive and slipped it into his pocket, in time to see Ashlin enter the office and shut the door. His heart stalled as he watched her bend over the desk, black skintight denim outlining a sensational ass and long legs that promised heaven. She rummaged through the mess, searching for something, oblivious to his ogling. Guess that answered his first question, that she'd followed him.
He should slip out undetected but as he edged toward the door, he found himself hesitating when she slammed her hand on the desk.
"Dammit," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, a deep russet with shimmery copper threads that captured the light as she moved. Yeah, he was that much of a dumbass with
her he was analyzing the color of her hair.
"Need some help?"
She jumped and whirled around, her hand pressed to her chest. "You scared the crap out of me."
"Sorry," he said, not apologetic in the slightest, glad he wasn’t the only one off-kilter for once. "I'm in here for work. What's your excuse?"
She tilted her nose up, as if he didn't deserve to know. "Chantal can't find her phone. We tried ringing it but it's off so she sent out a search party."
"I'm assuming she hasn't got that find a phone app running."
She glared at him. "Guess you assumed right, Einstein."
To his surprise, he found himself grinning. "That's the best you can come up with? Einstein?"
Her eyes narrowed to fiery blue slits. "Would you prefer asshole?"
This time, he laughed outright. "Wow, you're shitty when a guy turns you down."
"Your loss." She shrugged and gave her hair another toss over her shoulder for good measure.
"Or yours." He strode toward her, buoyed by the flicker of alarm in her eyes.
Goddamn, Steele had been right. She'd picked him because she hadn't expected him to accept her invitation. She'd been toying with him. But rather than the earlier anger flooding him, he was curious. Why would a stunner, who could have any guy she wanted, target him, an insecure guy who would probably refuse her?
Intrigued against his better judgment, he stopped two feet away, close enough to smell the same exotic fragrance that had muddled his senses earlier. "Maybe I've changed my mind."
"About?"
"Taking you up on that offer of coffee."
"Too bad I've changed my mind." Her wide-eyed gaze dropped to his lips, as she licked hers.
"Yeah, too bad." He took a step closer, bringing her within touching distance.
Barely an inch separated them and he heard her sharp intake of breath, felt the heat radiating off her bare skin exposed by the scrap of silk masquerading as a top.
"Why did you ask me out?" He reached out, trailed a fingertip down her arm, skating over a smattering of goose-bumps.
"Because you seem like a nice guy." Her voice hitched as he grazed her wrist, her palm.