What the Paparazzi Didn't See

‘Do you want to get out of here?’

Her eyes widened in surprise before a disapproving frown slashed between them. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me? I make polite small talk for two seconds and you’re propositioning me?’

She shook her head, her disgust palpable.

‘Let me rephrase that.’ He tried his best smile, the one he used to win friends and influence colleagues. Her frown deepened. ‘What I meant was that I’ve had a long day. Landed in Melbourne this morning, had to attend this shindig for work tonight and I’m tired of the schmoozing.’

He waved towards the balcony. ‘Considering you’re out here to get away from the crowd, I assume you’ve probably had a gutful too?’

Her wary nod encouraged him to continue when he should cut his losses and run.

‘The way I see it, we have two choices. Head back in there and bore ourselves silly for the next hour or we can head down to The Martini Bar in the lobby and unwind before we head home—I mean, before we go our separate ways.’

The corners of her mouth twitched at his correction.

‘What do you say? Take pity on a guy and put him out of his misery by saving him from another interminable stint in there?’

Damn, he’d made a fool of himself, blathering like an idiot. What was it about this cool, classy blonde that had him rattled?

He’d had her pegged wrong and he, better than anyone, should know never to judge the proverbial book by its cover.

‘So you weren’t propositioning me?’

Was that a hint of disappointment? Mentally chastising himself for wishful thinking, he mimicked her frown. ‘Sadly, no. I’m too jet-lagged to—’

He bit off the rest of what he was about to say when her eyebrow arched.

Yep, he was stuffing this up royally.

‘To what?’

At last, she smiled and it made him feel oddly excited, as if he wanted to see her do it again.

‘To muster up enough charm to ensure you couldn’t say no.’

She chuckled and he joined in.

‘I like a guy with confidence.’ She laid her champagne glass on the ledge. ‘Let’s go get that martini.’

He didn’t have to be asked twice. ‘You really made me work for that acceptance.’

As he gestured for her to take the stairs ahead of him she cast him a coy glance from beneath her lashes. ‘Didn’t you know? You need to work your butt off for anything worth having.’

‘Is that right?’

‘Absolutely.’ She nodded, strands of artfully curled golden silk falling around her face in gorgeous disarray. ‘Nothing better than nailing a challenge.’

He bit the inside of his cheek to prevent laughing out loud, finding her utterly beguiling. In contrast to her sex-kitten persona, she was forthright and rather innocent if she hadn’t picked up on that nailing remark.

Then he made the mistake of glancing at her and saw the moment her faux pas registered.

She winced and a faint pink stained her cheeks, making him want to ravish her on the spot.

‘That didn’t sound too good,’ she said, wrinkling her nose.

‘Now we’re even,’ he said, wondering what they’d come out with after a few drinks under their belts. ‘My mistaken proposition, your nailing suggestion.’

‘Guess we are.’ She eyed him speculatively, as if not sure what he’d say next.

That made two of them.

‘Maybe we should stick to coffee tonight?’

‘Why’s that?’

That dimple flashed adoringly again. ‘Because with our strike rate, who knows what’ll happen if we have a martini or two?’

He laughed. ‘I was thinking the same thing.’

‘Coffees it is.’ She nodded, expecting him to agree.

But there was a part of him that delighted in flustering this woman and he couldn’t help but wonder how she’d loosen up with a few drinks inside her.

He leaned in close, expecting her to retreat a little, his admiration increasing, along with his libido, when she didn’t.

‘Actually, I prefer to live on the edge tonight. Why don’t we have a martini or two and see what other verbal gaffes we can make?’

‘As long as we stop at the verbal stuff,’ she said so softly he barely heard her.

‘Any other mistakes we make? Not our fault.’

‘Oh?’ He loved how she did the imperious eyebrow quirk.

‘Haven’t you heard?’ He lowered his voice. ‘What happens in The Martini Bar stays in The Martini Bar?’

With a surprisingly wicked twinkle in her eye, she nodded. ‘That’s if we stay in the bar.’

With that, she took to the steps, leaving him trailing after her, more than a little captivated by this woman of contrasts.

A woman whose name he didn’t know.

Ah well, he’d have all night to discover it if he was lucky.

TWO

LIZA LITHGOW’S STYLE TIPS

FOR MAXIMUM WAG WOW IMPACT