Bad (3 page)

"But they will be." Miranda pointed at the far end of the bar. "Take a look. Have you ever seen anything so sickening in all your life?"

Ashlin glanced over in time to see Zane say something very dirty if Chantal's shocked yet mischievous expression was any indication. Closely followed by a lip lock that would need a crowbar to pry them apart.

"They barely know each other." A fact that surprised Ashlin on a daily basis since the hunky Aussie had bowled into town.

In all the years she'd known Chantal, she'd never seen the bold blonde as anything other than a man-eater. A woman so confident she could make a guy wither with a single glance. Chantal rarely dated so the fact she'd fallen hard for the Aussie in a month made Ashlin wonder if she should buy ice skates for the newly frozen Hades.

"When you connect on that level, what's to know?" Miranda's wistful sigh drew Ashlin's attention away from the happy couple. "I'd love to find a guy who looks at me the way Zane looks at her."

Surprised by the sudden sadness down-turning her friend's mouth, Ashlin slipped her arm around Miranda's shoulders and hugged. "You will."

"I'm starting to seriously doubt it." Miranda rested her head on Ashlin's shoulder a moment before straightening. "Mamma's been planning a big Italian wedding for as long as I can remember and the fact I'm turning thirty soon means the pressure is sky-high."

"She wants grandkids, huh?"

Miranda screwed up her nose. "You'd think having my three older sisters produce ten kids between them would be enough?" She shook her head. "
Nooooo
…apparently I'm neglecting my duty as a good Italian girl to find a good husband, make a good home and produce a brood of good kids."

Ashlin laughed at Miranda's faux Italian accent. "Here's a tip for you, babe. Hanging around Chantal's cocktail parties won't help you find a guy, considering the dancers are all female."

Miranda's gaze drifted to the door again. "Steele Harrison looked the part but what a jerk."

"What happened?"

"He gave me crap about my necklace so I trod on his toes."

Ashlin glanced down at Miranda's signature stilettos. "With those?"

She had the grace to blush. "Yeah. Must've hurt."

"Remind me never to comment on your jewelry."

Miranda fingered the wooden beaded and feathered string hanging around her neck. "This stuff promotes my business so what would Mr. High-and-Mighty know about it?"

Ashlin tended to agree with Steele about the ugliness of Miranda's necklace but she would never tell her friend that. "What did he say?"

"Made some wisecrack about being allergic to birds so I shouldn't wear a menagerie around my neck." Miranda's quick look-away suggested there was more behind this story.

"Why would he have a dig at you for no reason?"

"Well…" Miranda’s faux innocence wasn’t convincing. "I may have bailed him up and said our cocktail parties are private, and not open to every sleazy troll who wanders back here from the showroom."

Ashlin let out a whoop of laughter. "You thought he was a peep from the audience?"

Miranda nodded. "Guess he didn't take too kindly to being mistaken for a patron." She chuckled. “Or being called a sleazy troll.”

"And then you stomped on him and called him an uptight prick?" Ashlin couldn't contain her giggles. "Even though he's cute, perhaps you should set your sights elsewhere."

"I'm not setting my sights on anyone." Miranda folded her arms and pouted. "Besides, you looked cozy with Wyatt when my battle with Steele ended."

"He's nice enough."
And not interested in me, just the way I like it
.

"You know he's shy and you'll have to put the moves on him?"

Which is exactly why she'd done it. Knowing Wyatt wouldn't reciprocate meant she’d done her duty in the dating stakes for another few weeks. The part where she felt oddly rejected when he walked away? She hadn't counted on that.

"I tried."

Miranda wolf-whistled. "And? When are you two going out?"

"We're not."

"Why?"

"He said no."

Miranda's eyes widened. "To you? The guy must be blind or gay."

Ashlin suspected neither and she wasn't going to waste another moment mulling why Wyatt didn't want to have a coffee with her.

"Not to worry." Ashlin winked. "His loss."

"You said it, girlfriend." Miranda's smile faded. "You know we're a couple of pathetic losers, right, rocking up to this party every four weeks for the last few years without a hot guy in tow?"

Ashlin grabbed two shot glasses from a passing waiter and handed one to Miranda. "Who needs a guy when we've got tequila?"

"True." Miranda tapped her glass lightly against Ashlin's. "Drink up."

However, as Ashlin tossed back the liquor and it burned a path down her throat, she couldn't help but wonder why Wyatt had said no.

Wyatt knew he was a sad case.

Leaving a cocktail party brimming with hot babes to check on a systems update would get him committed by any self-respecting guy. But that's the way he rolled. He could understand IT configurations. Women, not so much.

As he let himself into Chantal's office where he stored his equipment for this job, he pondered Steele's advice. While the brother he'd just met could be talking out his ass, it made him madder than hell to think Ashlin had targeted him for kicks.

"Fuck," he muttered, scanning a mini hard-drive to detect any faults, wishing he knew enough about women to figure out what her motivation had been.

Not that it mattered. He'd be winding up this job shortly and the chances of running into her again were minimal. Suited him just fine.

Then why the twinge of regret that he hadn't taken her up on her offer?

Hell, she hadn't invited him back to her place for the night. She'd suggested coffee. Could barely be labeled a frigging date. Yet he'd baulked anyway. It sucked having his entire world revolve around computers so the infrequent hook-ups he'd had were with gamer girls.

When a woman like Ashlin spoke to him, he could barely respond, not without sounding a dufus.

The door to the office swung open. Great, that's all he needed, for Chantal to bust him hiding out here rather than socializing at her party. She'd insisted he attend and when Zane had got on his case too, he hadn't come up with a plausible excuse fast enough.

Eager to escape, he powered down the hard-drive and slipped it into his pocket, in time to see Ashlin enter the office and shut the door. His heart stalled as he watched her bend over the desk, black skintight denim outlining a sensational ass and long legs that promised heaven. She rummaged through the mess, searching for something, oblivious to his ogling. Guess that answered his first question, that she'd followed him.

He should slip out undetected but as he edged toward the door, he found himself hesitating when she slammed her hand on the desk.

"Dammit," she muttered, running a hand through her hair, a deep russet with shimmery copper threads that captured the light as she moved. Yeah, he was that much of a dumbass with her he was analyzing the color of her hair.

"Need some help?"

She jumped and whirled around, her hand pressed to her chest. "You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry," he said, not apologetic in the slightest, glad he wasn’t the only one off-kilter for once. "I'm in here for work. What's your excuse?"

She tilted her nose up, as if he didn't deserve to know. "Chantal can't find her phone. We tried ringing it but it's off so she sent out a search party."

"I'm assuming she hasn't got that
find a phone
app running."

She glared at him. "Guess you assumed right, Einstein."

To his surprise, he found himself grinning. "That's the best you can come up with? Einstein?"

Her eyes narrowed to fiery blue slits. "Would you prefer asshole?"

This time, he laughed outright. "Wow, you're shitty when a guy turns you down."

"Your loss." She shrugged and gave her hair another toss over her shoulder for good measure.

"Or yours." He strode toward her, buoyed by the flicker of alarm in her eyes.

Goddamn, Steele had been right. She'd picked him because she hadn't expected him to accept her invitation. She'd been toying with him. But rather than the earlier anger flooding him, he was curious. Why would a stunner, who could have any guy she wanted, target him, an insecure guy who would probably refuse her?

Intrigued against his better judgment, he stopped two feet away, close enough to smell the same exotic fragrance that had muddled his senses earlier. "Maybe I've changed my mind."

"About?"

"Taking you up on that offer of coffee."

"Too bad I've changed my mind." Her wide-eyed gaze dropped to his lips, as she licked hers.

"Yeah, too bad." He took a step closer, bringing her within touching distance.

Barely an inch separated them and he heard her sharp intake of breath, felt the heat radiating off her bare skin exposed by the scrap of silk masquerading as a top.

"Why did you ask me out?" He reached out, trailed a fingertip down her arm, skating over a smattering of goose-bumps.

"Because you seem like a nice guy." Her voice hitched as he grazed her wrist, her palm.

"And because you thought I'd say no."

Awareness flared in her eyes. "That's BS."

"Is it?" His hand rested on her hip. Slid slowly around to the small of her back. "You thought the geek would be intimidated by your beauty."

A small smile curved her lips. "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Do you seriously need the validation?" Even now, she was playing him, fishing for compliments and Wyatt had had enough.

Time to call her bluff.

"I need…" She sighed and lowered her gaze.

"What?"

He wanted her to say 'you' but that was wishful thinking. Strong, independent women didn't need anything or anybody, least of all a guy so far out of his depth he needed a lifebuoy ASAP.

"What do you need?"

She raised her eyes to meet his again, and the uncertainty he glimpsed floored him.

"I don't know."

Her vulnerability scared him more than her overt come-on earlier, and before he could second-guess his impulse, he blurted, "I think you need this," and kissed her.

She gasped in surprise, giving him access to her lush mouth and he didn't need a second invitation, his tongue taunting hers. Teasing. Challenging.

She moaned and he angled his head, deepening the kiss to the point where he could barely breathe. He didn't care. He'd happily pass out from lack of oxygen if he could devour her for longer than a minute.

God, had he ever kissed like this? Deep. Long. Hot. Moist kisses that never ended. He reached for her, his hands sliding from her waist to her ribcage to her boobs.

She wrenched her mouth from his, staring at him as if he'd lost his mind. Which he had, around the time they'd first played tonsil hockey moments ago.

"What the hell was that?" Her chest heaved, her blue eyes flashing with…fear?

Fuck, was she scared of him? He may not be good at flirting with women but usually when he kissed them they enjoyed it as much as he did.

"That was me showing you I'm not some idiot you can jerk around.”

Anger replaced the fear as her eyes narrowed. "You were trying to prove a point?"

"Yeah, I don't like being played for a fool."

Her shoulders sagged a little as a wistful sigh barely above a whisper escaped her lips. "I don't think you're a fool."

"Then prove it." He stepped back, needing to put some space between them before he was tempted to reach for her again. "Tell me why you asked me out."

She glanced away and huffed out a long breath. "Honestly?"

He waited, intrigued by what she'd say.

"You seemed a safe bet," she said, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks. "A guy who wouldn't put the moves on me."

"But why single me out in the first place? Why ask me out?"

Didn't make sense. If she didn't want a guy to put the moves on her—like he'd just done with that kiss—she could've avoided guys altogether at the party.

"You ask a lot of questions." She pouted and damned if it didn't make him want to kiss her again.

"And you aren't giving me any answers that make sense."

She cocked a hip, switching from embarrassed to teasing, leaving him more confused. "So? What are you going to do about it?"

Turned on by her sass, he touched her cheek. "Are you angling for another lip lock, taunting me?"

"You wish."

"Honey, you have no idea how much."

Her eyes darkened to indigo and the tip of her tongue flickered out to moisten her bottom lip. "Look, this has been nice and all, but I need to get back to the party—"

"No you don't. We're going to have that coffee. Now."

The corners of her mouth twitched. "Already told you, I reneged on the offer."

"Too bad, because I have a top line coffee machine in my hotel suite." He threw it out there, the ultimate challenge, knowing she wouldn't accept.

He'd called her bluff, as Steele had advised, but rather than feeling vindicated, he felt like an idiot.

Because he'd give anything for her to take him up on his offer.

She chuckled. Not the reaction he'd expected. "You're trying to outplay the player?"

He schooled his face into nonchalance. "Don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do." This time, she advanced on him. So close. Not close enough. "Okay, let's do this."

His neurons, usually firing at an accelerated rate, failed to compute her implication. Or perhaps that kiss had short-circuited his brain completely. "Do what?"

"Go have that coffee in your suite." Her mischievous smile made him want to kiss her again. "You up for it?"

Struggling to hide his shock, he nodded. "Sure, let's go."

"I'll need to let Chantal know I didn't find her phone—"

"She'll figure it out." Besides, he had the damndest urge to grab her hand and make a run for his suite before she changed her mind.