‘Really?’ Seth grinned at the poor bastards. Most stood with their arms folded across their gleaming bare chests. His eyes narrowed. ‘What have they put on you?’ he asked the nearest one.
‘Baby oil.’
A few started laughing again and smacking their chests like cavemen. ‘Oh, she got us good.’
‘I can still feel the sting of her palm,’ one complained, rubbing his hand up by his shoulder. ‘She’s a sadist.’ He rolled his eyes heavenward. ‘But it was worth it.’
‘Who got you good?’ Seth tried to ask casually.
‘Lena.’
Cue more smirks and body-slapping.
Lena. Oh, hell. Wasn’t Lena the name of the woman Dion had told him about? The woman who had the power to save him from next week’s nightmare so long as he could convince her to help him? The one he needed?
Hell, yes. Only, now he didn’t want her to agree to his last-minute project plan, he wanted her to say yes to something else altogether. Seth gritted his teeth as a surge of testosterone rippled through his muscles—all masculine hunger and sexual curiosity. His curiosity was so rabid he was unable to resist asking exactly what they’d been up to with the luscious Lena. ‘What did you do?’
‘Asked her to rub the oil on,’ one said with a shameless grin. ‘Thought she’d refuse all haughtylike, but she didn’t. She slapped it on all of us. And I mean slapped.’
The entire team erupted.
‘Perfect!’ the photographer shrieked, spinning, his finger holding down the shutter button as he caught them all. ‘Keep talking.’
‘You should have seen the look on her face.’
Oh, Seth had. ‘Did she laugh?’ He was still hearing that laugh; it had drawn him to her the way a magnet drew an iron filing. He’d been powerless to resist her pull.
‘Nah, you never see that, she always holds it together. Cooler than a chilly bin.’
Uh, Seth didn’t think so. He glanced down at the jacket in his hands, retrieved the few things he had in the pocket and dumped it in the rubbish. No getting oil stains out of that. He turned back, unable to resist asking more—to be sure it was her. ‘She wouldn’t be wearing a blue dress, would she? About this tall?’ He gestured just above his shoulder. ‘Dark hair, creamy skin, green eyes and curv—’
He broke off, recognising a little late that they’d all gone quiet and that he’d been about to get a little too detailed….
‘You noticed her,’ said Ty, who Seth knew was the captain.
‘I told you about her. Lena Kelly.’ Dion pointedly looked from Seth to the rubbish bin and back again. ‘PR and organisation and stuff.’
Yeah, definitely the one Dion had said Seth needed on board. She had the power to convince management to let him bring his boys here—the at-risk youth who needed not just a shot of discipline, but of inspiration, too. But Dion hadn’t told him she was such a scorcher. And right now, wrong as it was, Seth had more of a fixation on that fact than he did on sorting the problem that had brought him here in the first place.
She definitely had a more valid reason than he did to be hanging out near the change rooms. What was more, she really had had her hands on all the boys. There was no smothering his chuckle.
The captain saw. ‘Don’t bother, mate, she’s not interested.’
Oh. Seth cleared his throat. ‘She’s taken?’ She’d better not be, or she shouldn’t have been kissing him so hot—not just hungry, but famished. Aggression surged, hardening. He hated infidelity.
‘No, but she refuses everyone. She almost flirts. You can see it in her eyes, but she never says what she’s thinking,’ Ty explained. ‘Wish she would.’
‘Got nice eyes,’ one of the forwards grunted.
Wicked eyes.
Seth relaxed. He wasn’t up for commitment and he wasn’t going to be party to cheating. But he was more than happy to play.
‘Got nice everything,’ some other player piped up. ‘But no one gets near. Totally untouchable.’
‘Right.’ Seth nodded, breathing deep to hide the outrageous victor’s pleasure coursing through him. He had to stop himself puffing his chest out like some damn cockerel—because Not-Interested-Lena had been more than a little interested in him.
‘You really do fancy her,’ Dion stated quietly.
The entire team stopped laughing and stared at Seth. Suddenly they didn’t look anywhere near as friendly—more like aggressive.
‘Uh, no.’ Testosterone resurged. He’d happily fight his corner, but he needed these guys onside if he was going to get them to help with the youth-aid project, so he went for deflection. ‘Only noticing what you’ve all noticed.’
And now he noticed how the atmosphere had turned from teasing to protective. Which meant they respected her. Which meant she was no tease. Which meant he might have to be careful. He more than fancied her and badly wanted a fling. He’d had a dry spell for all of a month or so and she’d be a much-needed distraction from the construction consent issues he had coming out of his ears. And okay, he was totally hot for her. From the answering heat in her kiss, he knew he could get her to say yes. So long as her no-dating policy wasn’t because she was holding out for a husband. Marriage wasn’t in his deck of cards.
‘She’ll knock you back,’ said Ty. ‘She doesn’t date anyone famous.’
But Seth wasn’t famous in the way these guys were famous. Ten minutes ago she hadn’t recognised him, nor had she knocked him back. In the right mood, Lena Kelly wasn’t untouchable at all.
Dion’s eyes had that delighted gleam that came on when he saw a building he wanted to acquire. ‘I reckon you’d have more luck than most.’ He turned to Ty. ‘Want to make a bet?’
‘No.’ Seth instantly stamped on that. This conversation had gone more than far enough already. ‘Never bet on a woman. Bad karma.’
Dion glanced, his laughter easy. ‘Quite right. And we’ve pushed it enough with Lena today. Imagine what she’d do if she heard us now?’
The entire team cracked up again. The photographer practically bounced with excitement as he snapped off shots.
Dion looked smug. Seth suspected the bet comment had been to provoke his reaction. Ruthless bastard. But Seth smirked, too—it took one to know one.
‘So this is going to be the calendar, huh?’ He knew his change of topic wasn’t going to fool Dion. The captain was watching him as well but he tried anyway. ‘You guys must just love this.’
‘Oh, sure.’
Some of the guys groaned.
‘Need you all back in the shot now,’ the photographer called.
As they lined up his thoughts derailed. The temperature of that kiss had been surreal—like being submerged into a spa after a day on the snow, bringing out goose bumps even though you were burning. Your body couldn’t decide if it was pleasurable or painful—just intense, hellish good. He was hurting for more of the supposedly untouchable Lena. The urge bit to the bone. He liked nothing more than a challenge and a chase. Used to success, he figured there was no reason why he couldn’t get her to agree to both propositions. All he had to do now was find her.
‘Coming through!’
Seth’s body recognised the slightly husky edge to the singsong voice before his brain did. Predatory instincts rose, focus sharpened. He had to turn slightly to the side to force himself to relax. This was a challenge, yes, but not one for public consumption. The guys were cheesing it up for the camera, but he sensed their attention snap
to him the second they heard her, too. They wanted to see what was going to happen. Which meant that, right now, nothing was going to happen. Later on? Absolutely everything.
He tried to act nonchalant, but it would be abnormal not to look, so as the heel tapping neared he glanced over. She was hidden by a wall of shirts—holding them up high and out front like a curtain—but he recognised the dress. His body acted as if it had met its dream mate and he gripped hard on his bunching muscles.
‘Thanks, Lena,’ said Dion. ‘Hang them over there for us, will you? They’ll need to shower after this. Don’t want that oil over all the clothes.’
Seth knew Dion had just directed another speculative glance at the rubbish bin where his jacket was now in residence. But he wasn’t going to say a word.
‘Lena, this is Seth Walker,’ Dion added. ‘Seth, this is our ever efficient PR queen, Lena.’
Seth watched for a reaction as she heard his name. While he didn’t expect everyone in the country to know his face, his name was more out there. But she was terribly busy hanging those shirts—still hiding. When she finally turned, her expression was schooled into one hell of a poker face. No wonder the team called her untouchable. He thought she should definitely play some kind of…poker.
He stared blankly for a second before shaking the stripping fantasy free and focusing harder. She wasn’t looking up at him, so he couldn’t see if that gleam was there. Her lipstick was fixed but there was that extra fullness of her mouth. Frustrated desire flooded him and he cursed the presence of an entire rugby squad.
Seth Walker. Of course that was who he was. Lena didn’t need Wikipedia to know all about him. She should have recognised him earlier. She remembered his name from when he sold off some scheme for kazillions to a big corporate conglomerate and she should have recognised his face from the about-town sections of the paper and the women’s mags. The guy was the most wanted accessory of every beautiful socialite in the city scene. In fact the guy owned half the central city—was responsible for all those warehouse conversions into cool apartments and hip restaurants and clubs. He was so driven in his career he made these athletes look like Tuesday-night social-sport amateurs. His projects would always come before his private life.