Blame it on the Bikini Page 7

  Mya dragged in a shaky breath, determinedly so not disappointed he hadn’t kissed her, and followed him to the office.

  There was really only one reason why Brad had offered to help Mya. One carnal, driving reason. But now she was in his house he fully regretted it. Her scent tormented him. The light sweetness overlaid with the tart lemon from the bar. Yeah, that was Mya. He switched on the computer with deliberately calm movements. In truth, he wanted to spin in his seat and grab her, have her over his desk in a second and kiss every inch of her skin. Here, in his bed, the kitchen, everywhere. He had the sinking feeling she’d haunt his house for ever if he didn’t get her out of his system.

  But there was no doubt she was waiting for him to make his move. His playboy reputation had all her barriers up, and though he knew he could eventually get her to say yes, he didn’t want to be that predictable. He didn’t want her thinking she knew all there was to know about him. Because she didn’t. He wasn’t that out of control. He didn’t want to be that out of control. And he wasn’t that shallow—at least he hoped not. So he bit back the raging lust and concentrated on the case searches instead.

  He quickly read the list she pulled out. It wouldn’t take him that long.

  She had her textbook out and was making notes already. He smiled as he watched her discreetly while logging in to the online databases. She was so natural with her hair tied back and her pen in hand, ready to take notes as she read—fast. She’d eased right into it, looking more relaxed and at home than he’d ever seen her in the bar, for all the effort that she put in there. And that was the difference, he figured: there it was a big effort, whereas this—reading, studying, thinking—was effortless for her. And natural.

  ‘You really like corporate law, or is it about the earning potential?’ he couldn’t resist asking when he was about halfway through the list.

  She lifted her head and met his eyes for a too-short moment. ‘I really do like it.’ She looked at the pages. ‘Does that surprise you? I like the challenge. I like figuring out the rules. I like the power in negotiation.’

  He nodded but couldn’t help thinking she was holding something back. Her drive was so strong.

  ‘You think I’m shallow?’ She looked up again and this time he saw the flicker of insecurity in her eyes. It mattered to her what he thought of her?

  ‘No,’ he answered honestly. ‘Different people enjoy different things. Different people have different things driving them.’

  She nodded, but to his disappointment didn’t open up more.

  ‘Why are you doing summer school?’ He couldn’t help asking. ‘Why do you work so many shifts? Aren’t you on scholarship?’

  ‘Not any more.’

  ‘Why not?’

  Mya took in a deep breath. She never usually discussed this—but telling Brad might be a darn good idea. It might help keep her focused around him. ‘I failed.’

  His fingers stopped on the keyboard and he swivelled in the chair to face her. ‘You finally flunked an exam? Don’t worry about it—everyone does sometime.’

  Somehow she didn’t think he had. ‘I didn’t flunk one. I flunked them all. Finals last year I completely crashed.’

  ‘What happened?’ His eyes widened.

  Yeah, it had been a shock to her too. She’d always been the super-bright one. The rebellious but diligent student who was there on sufferance because she dragged the school’s academic rankings up single-handedly.

  ‘What happened?’ he asked again when she said nothing. ‘Your family? Is everyone okay?’

  ‘It was nothing catastrophic.’ She turned away and began underlining random sentences with pencil. ‘It was embarrassing.’

  ‘So what happened?’

  She really didn’t want to go into it but going into it would put the ice on any hot thoughts—hers and his—and she wanted to get through this night without being tempted. ‘I met a guy. I thought he was, you know, the one.’ Now she was blushing with embarrassment, because she’d been so naïve. ‘But he totally wasn’t. He broke up with me two days out from exams and I … handled it badly.’ It was mortifying now to look back on, but she’d been hurt. She’d finally thought she’d found a place to fit in, and she couldn’t have been more wrong.

  ‘What a jerk breaking up at exam time.’

  She nodded. ‘He was. But I was an idiot. A big idiot.’ Because she’d gone out and made everything worse.

  ‘How big?’

  ‘I went out and got really drunk.’

  ‘Oh.’ He was silent a moment. ‘Did something bad happen?’

  ‘Not bad. But not that great either.’ She glanced at him. ‘My own mistake and I’ve learned from it.’ The responsibility lay with her. She was the one who’d lain in bed crying her eyes out. She was the one who’d gone out and got drunk to try to forget about him and ease the pain. She was the one who’d brought home some random guy and slept with him just to feel wanted. She’d woken up the morning of her first exam with a dry mouth and a sick stomach and an inability to remember the name of the man in her bed. She’d been mortified and ashamed and sick. Hung-over and bleary-eyed, she’d not even made it past the first hour of the exam. The one that afternoon she’d turned up, signed her name and walked out again. The last exam she’d actually tried to do something on but had panicked halfway through and walked out. Her supervisor had called her in when the results came out. Had asked what had happened, had wanted her to get a doctor’s note or something because her performance was so shockingly below her usual standard. Below anyone’s standards. But she could never have done that. It was her fault, her responsibility.

  She’d fed from the scholarship fund long enough. All her secondary schooling, now half her university degree. No more. She was making her own way in the world—and paying her own way. Nothing mattered more than gaining financial independence, by getting a good job. And if it meant it took longer for her to finish her degree working part-time, so she could live, then that was just the way it had to be.

  ‘What have you learned?’ Brad asked.

  She turned and looked at him directly. ‘That I can’t let anything or anyone get in the way of my studies again. Definitely no man, no relationship.

  ‘That’s why you don’t want to get involved with anyone? That’s why it’s inconvenient?’

  ‘That’s right.’ She nodded, denying the other reason even to herself. ‘I’m busy. I’m working at the bar every night and at the café on the weekends. I’ve got lectures midweek and assignments and reading to do in and around that. I just don’t have time for anyone or anything else.’

  ‘You can’t let one bad experience put you off for ever.’

  ‘Not for ever. Just the next couple of years.’

  He frowned. ‘But you get time off over Christmas, right?’

  ‘From lectures but I have assignments and I have shifts right the way through.’ The public holidays paid good money, and patrons were more generous tippers too. ‘I’m not interested in anything.’

  ‘Not a great quality of life for you, though, is it? All work and no play.’

  ‘It’s not for ever,’ she said again.

  ‘No? How many years are you off finishing your degree?’

  ‘Part-time it’s going to take me three. That’s with taking summer papers as well.’

  ‘So no nookie for you for another three years?’ He shook his head, looking appalled. ‘That’s more than a little tragic.’

  ‘Sex isn’t the be-all and end-all,’ she said with more confidence than she felt.

  ‘It’s up there. Without sex there can be no life.’

  ‘We’re not talking biology here.’

  ‘You’re going to be miserable,’ he warned.

  ‘I’m not. I’m going to achieve what I want to achieve.’

  ‘With no help from anybody.’

  ‘You understand, right?’

  ‘No, I don’t.’

  Startled, she looked at him.

  ‘I don’t see why it h
as to be that miserable.’ He turned and met her eyes. ‘No such thing as balance with you, is there?’

  ‘I have to do what I have to do. And I’m not into the casual-sex scene.’ She cleared her throat, trying to hold the blush at bay as she remembered that mortifying morning. ‘I learned that too. I don’t want a fling. But nor do I want a relationship right now. I have too much else to do.’

  ‘All or nothing,’ he murmured.

  ‘Right now it’s nothing,’ she confirmed.

  He looked at her, brown eyes serious. ‘Okay.’ He held her gaze. ‘Message received loud and clear.’

  She said nothing. He turned back to the computer and pulled the list of cases nearer. Mya watched his fingers fly over the keyboard. Serious, focused.

  That was it? She’d told him as explicitly as she could that she didn’t want an affair and he just accepted it?

  Because here was the thing—she was still totally hot for the guy. How could he be so focused when she was dying of desire? She’d gone for honesty and he’d taken it. He’d backed right off. But instead of feeling any kind of relief, she felt more wound up. She’d been so sure he’d make some kind of move. She’d been so sure she’d say no. Only there were no moves from him, and only yeses and pleases circling in her head.

  She couldn’t believe her madness. Her brain had been lost somewhere between here and the bar.

  He stood and picked up the pages as they came out of the printer and put highlighters and sticky notes in front of her. She almost laughed. It seemed the guy was as much of a stationery addict as she was.

  ‘It’s all vital for doing an assignment.’ He winked. ‘I’m off to make you some coffee while you get started.’

  He’d left the documents open on screen so she could cut and paste quotes as necessary. Hell, he’d even opened up a documents file, named for her, and saved the other cases he’d downloaded. She stared at them, not taking in a word, just waiting.

  Five minutes later he put the steaming mug in front of her and stayed on the other side of the desk.

  ‘I’m turning in now. There’s more coffee in the machine in the kitchen, fruit in the bowl, chocolate on hand too. Stay as late as you like. Don’t go walking out there at some stupid hour of the morning.’

  ‘I can’t stay the whole night.’ There was just no way.

  ‘It’ll probably take you all night to get the assignment done anyway. No point in taking unnecessary risks.’ He walked back to the doorway in jeans and tee—she noticed his feet were now bare.

  ‘Thanks,’ she said rustily. ‘Really appreciate this.’ And was so disappointed when he disappeared down the hallway.

  She stared at the screen. All this info was at her fingertips. All she had to do was read, assimilate, process, write. It wasn’t that hard. She’d done enough essays to know what her lecturers wanted and what it was she needed to get that extra half grade.

  But the house was silent.

  Acutely aware of his presence under the roof, she sat stupidly still, listening for sounds of him. Imagining going to find him—imagining sliding into that mountainous cloud of a bed and …

  She’d pushed him away and it had worked. For him. She still wanted what she couldn’t have and with that she’d lost her ability to concentrate. That was a first. She glanced at the big printer on the table behind her. Half a tree’s worth of paper and twenty minutes later she was ready to leave.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asked just as she’d tiptoed to the front door.

  She whirled around. What was she doing? What was he doing standing there almost completely bare? Only a pair of boxer shorts preserved his modesty and even then they were that knit-cotton variety that clung rather than hung loose. And speaking of things being hung …

  She burned. ‘I can’t work here.’ It was a pathetic whisper.

  ‘You’re sneaking out.’ He crossed his arms. It only emphasised his biceps. It was so unfair of him to have such a fit body.

  ‘I didn’t want to wake you.’

  ‘How are you planning on getting home?’

  ‘I can walk.’

  ‘It’s after two in the morning.’

  ‘I walk home from the bar all the time. I have a safety alarm. I walk along well-lit streets. I’m not stupid.’

  His jaw clenched. ‘Take my car.’

  Could he make it worse for her? ‘No, that’s okay. I’m fine walking.’

  ‘It’s not fine for anyone to walk home alone this time of night. Take my car.’

  She sighed. ‘That’s very kind of you, but I can’t.’

  ‘You have a real issue accepting help, don’t you?’ he growled.

  Possibly. Okay, yes, particularly from him. His whole ‘friendly’ act was confusing her hormones more. ‘I can’t drive,’ she admitted in a low voice. ‘I’ve never got my licence. I’ve never learned to drive.’

  For a second his mouth hung open. ‘Everyone learns to drive. It’s a life skill. Didn’t your dad teach you?’

  Her dad didn’t drive either. That was because the accident at the factory years ago had left him with a limp and unable to use his right arm. He’d been a sickness beneficiary ever since. Living in a house that was damp, in a hideous part of town that was getting rougher by the day. She was determined to get her parents out of there. She owed it to them. ‘You’re assuming we had a car,’ she said bluntly. They couldn’t afford many things most people would consider basic necessities, like a car and petrol or even their power bill most of the time.

  ‘Okay.’ He turned and strode back to his bedroom. ‘I’ll drive you.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that,’ she called after him, beyond frustrated and embarrassed and frankly miserable.

  ‘Yes, I do.’

  ‘I didn’t want to disturb you.’

  ‘It’s way too late for that.’ He returned, jeans on, tee in hand. ‘I’ll drop you home.’

  She needed him to put the tee on, and she really needed him too. She’d had such sensual thoughts in the past hour she was almost insane with it.

  But he read her fierce expression wrong. ‘Don’t you dare argue with me any more.’

  He opened the front door and waited for her.

  To her horror her eyes filled and she quickly walked out. She was too strung out to argue. She’d not admitted to anyone the struggle she’d been having. Not even to Lauren. But she was so tired. The relentless shifts, the constant pressure of squeezing in assignment after assignment, of fitting in lectures around work, of desperately trying to get the highest of grades every time, of never, ever getting enough sleep. But it was something she alone had to deal with. And she certainly couldn’t lose more time or sleep fantasising about him.

  CHAPTER SIX

  BRAD’S tension didn’t ease as he unlocked the car and opened the passenger door in the middle of the night for her. For someone so independent, her inability to drive threw him. They lived in New Zealand. Everyone drove here. And she shouldn’t be walking home alone night after night after work at the bar. She was so pale; the amount of work she had on bothered him. It didn’t help that he’d lumbered her with this party as well. He was thoughtless. And, yes, selfish.

  Because all it had been about was him stealing time with her. He’d wanted her—and any excuse would do to get that time. But now? Now he really was concerned.

  ‘I’ll teach you to drive,’ he said, putting his car in gear and pulling out into the quiet, dark street.

  ‘Thanks all the same but it’s not necessary. I live centrally. I walk to work. I use public transport—it’s better for the environment.’

  ‘You’re happy to learn bar tricks from Jonny,’ he pointed out, annoyance biting at her refusal.

  ‘I wouldn’t want to damage your car.’

  His body tautened to a ridiculous degree, urging him to pull over and kiss her into silence. Into saying yes—to this, to anything, to everything. He wanted her more than he’d ever wanted a woman. Who’d have thought that a picture could have affected him li
ke this?

  No. It wasn’t just the picture. It was every time she opened her mouth and shot him down while eating him up with her eyes. If they ever got it on, it would be mind-blowing. He knew it. But that wasn’t happening. She wasn’t into flings and he wasn’t into anything else and he was man enough to back off. He’d drop her home now and go out tomorrow night and find a new friend to play with.

  But the idea left him cold. Instead, he went back to thinking about her.

  ‘About Lauren’s party.’ He revved the engine while waiting at another infernal red light. The ten-minute drive seemed to be taking for ever. ‘If it’s too much for you—’

  ‘It’s not too much.’ She interrupted him and he heard the attempted smile in her voice. ‘I just got behind on this one assignment and I’ll get that done tonight. At home. I want to help. I can do it. Just to the left here is fine.’ She pointed out her apartment.

  ‘I haven’t thought much more about it.’ He hadn’t thought about the party at all. He’d spent all his spare moments imagining the delicious things he’d do to Mya the minute she let him.

  She turned to face him as he cut the engine. ‘The cocktails will be fun. Just get in a good band and a DJ and good food. It’ll be fine.’

  He flicked on the interior light so he could see her properly. ‘You wouldn’t be lowering your standards for me, would you?’

  The colour ran under her skin but she kept on her smile as she shook her head. ‘I’d never do that. I still expect the best.’

  Brad grinned despite his disappointment. She’d have got the best. Her automatic, instant refusals of anything he offered? They pricked his pride. He wished she’d come to him, wished she’d be as unable to resist their chemistry as much as he seemed unable to.

  ‘I really don’t know how to thank you.’ She clutched the door handle, her eyes wide and filled with something he really wished was desire.

  ‘I can think of a couple of ways.’ He couldn’t help one last little tease.