Lingerie Wars (Invertary 1)
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He looked far too cocky for a man who knew nothing about fashion or runway shows. Kirsty was instantly suspicious. He was up to something that was for sure. But Kirsty had a secret weapon—four professional models and a lifetime of experience.
“What kind of bet?”
“One you’ll like.”
She scoffed at him.
“Time is money here,” she said. “So spit it out.”
Lake laughed that deep rumble that made her insides turn to mush.
“Fine,” he said. “If you win, I’ll hand over the lease to my shop and you’ll be the unchallenged queen of lingerie.”
He was grinning widely. The bet was so ludicrous that he obviously thought there was no way he’d lose. Idiot. He didn’t know about the models she had stashed in the van.
“What would I do with another lingerie shop?”
“Anything you like,” Lake said, his eyes were laughing at her. “That’s the point.”
“And why would you make such an outrageous bet with me when there is every chance you’ll lose?”
“Because my side of the deal has to be as big as your side.”
Her confidence faltered.
“Which is?”
“If you lose...” He licked his lips and her heart raced. “You put on a private striptease show just for me—in daylight.”
She gulped.
“Until I’m naked?” she said.
“That’s the idea.”
Kirsty thought about the fashion show she’d planned. There was no way he could beat her. No way that the audience would vote for him over her.
“You’re right. A shop for a striptease is about even,” she said at last, and she meant every word.
“So are you brave enough, Kirsty?” Lake said.
Kirsty chewed her lip. It was a stupid bet.
“There’s no way you’ll hand over the shop if I win,” she said.
“There’s no way you’ll win.”
“Fine.” Kirsty stuck out her hand. “It’s a bet, you arrogant son of a pork pie.”
They shook hands. Lake gripped her hand tight and pulled her flat against him.
“Son of a pork pie?”
“It popped into my head,” Kirsty said with a flush. Unfortunately, it had also popped out of her mouth.
“I’m looking forward to seeing your show,” he said as he bent towards her lips.
It took Kirsty a minute to realise he wasn’t talking about the fashion show. His kiss was hungry and possessive, and Kirsty found herself sighing into it. When he was through, he stroked her cheek softly and something within Kirsty stilled. This was different. This touch, this kiss. There was something else going on. She held her breath. With a tiny smile, he gave her one last short kiss goodbye and went back inside his caravan.