Exotic Nights

He was barefoot and looking like that careless, gorgeous hunk of a guy she’d met that wild night. Again she was transported back to the moments when she’d felt the firmness of his denim-wrapped thighs between hers. When he’d pulled her close on the dance floor, even closer in her room … Somewhere inside she softened … and immediately she sought to firm up again.

This was the guy who’d been so keen to get away he’d sneaked out in the crazy hours.

This was the guy who wasn’t anything like she’d thought, who’d totally misled her—hadn’t he?

Now he was standing in his designer kitchen stirring something in a wok with a quick hand. She hovered near the edge of the bench and watched as he added the now diced beef into the mix. Another pot was on the hob and, judging from the steam rising, was on rapid boil.

He glanced up at her. ‘You must be hungry.’

Yes, her mouth was definitely watering. And it wasn’t the only part of her growing damper. She shifted further away from him. ‘How many?’

‘How many what?’

‘How many are coming to dinner? You could feed an army with a steak that size.’

‘Just me.’ He laughed. ‘And now you.’

‘You really are a tiger,’ she murmured, turning to look at the living area again, not really meaning for him to hear. ‘So your office is on the level downstairs?’ She tried to go for some safe conversation.

‘Yeah,’ he answered. ‘I’m not sure what I want to do with the ground-floor level yet. Not a restaurant, that’s for sure. Maybe retail?’ He shrugged.

He could afford to leave it untenanted? Inner-city space like this would be worth a fortune. He must be worth a fortune. Her heart sank lower.

How could she have been so wrong? Stupid. Most women would be thrilled to discover someone was actually a

kazillionaire. But it just emphasised to Bella her lack of judgment—and the fact she was so out of place here. She’d never be the girl for anyone as successful as this; she was too much of a liability, too much of a joke. Moodily she stared at the dream space again.

But like a bee to honey she was drawn to look back, watching as he poured in an unlabelled jar of the something that smelt heavenly. Intrigued, she couldn’t not ask. ‘What’s that?’

His wicked look was back. ‘The restaurant down the road gives it to me on the sly.’

‘It smells incredible.’

‘And that’s nothing on how it tastes.’ He nodded to a slimline drawer. ‘You’ll find cutlery in there. Put some on that tray, will you?’

She was glad for something to do. It meant she had to turn her back on him and not watch the impressive cook on display.

‘So how long have you been living in that flat?’ he called to her above the sizzling sound of the searing meat.

‘Two weeks.’

‘Really?’ He’d moved so he could see her and she could see the lift of his brows.

‘I’ve only just moved to Wellington.’

‘Why the shift?’

‘To further my career.’ The wedding had been the catalyst. The last push she’d needed to finally get out of there and turn her dreams to reality. Only, already it was falling apart.

‘Oh?’

‘There are good theatres here. The movie industry is based here.’

‘There are good cafés here,’ he added, full of irony.

She tossed her head. ‘There are.’

‘So why now?’ He was putting food on plates and she was so hungry she could hardly concentrate on what she was saying.