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Authors: Claire Baxter

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BOOK: Flirting With Danger
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Aaron shook his head. “I’m going to find something to eat.”

As Dave and Kane headed off to seek liquid gold, Aaron hesitated. The sight of Mac
staring down the photographer made him grin. He knew that face—he’d been on the receiving
end of that look many times. With a shake of his head, he left the photographer to
learn for himself that Mac was not the obedient bridesmaid she might appear, and went
in search of food.


“Excuse me, I’m looking for Mac. Have you seen her?”

Jasmine turned from the buffet table at the sound of Aaron’s voice and tried not to
react to the sight of him in a dark suit. He’d even shaved for the occasion and had
his already short hair trimmed, too. Cripes, he looked like James Bond at his best.
She wouldn’t tell him so, or he’d assume it meant she fancied him. Which she definitely
did not.

“I suppose you think you’re funny?”

His twinkly gray-blue eyes widened theatrically. “Mac, I can hear your voice. Are
you trapped in there under the pretty-woman costume?”

She punched his arm with her free hand. Not gently.

“Ouch. It is you. I should have known you’d be around the food.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll leave some for you.”

“I’ve already eaten.”

“Hmm. Well, I’m starving. Being a bridesmaid is a tough job. It’s hard work having
your photo taken.”

“Oh, of course it is.” His eyes twinkled again. “Exhausting, I’m sure.”

She paused with a chicken drumstick halfway to her mouth. “As if you’d know. Nobody
would want to take your photo.”

“Hey, it has happened.” He grinned. “And all I had to do was lie there. But you’re
right, it was really hard.”

“Oh, please.” She coughed as a lump of chicken went down the wrong way. “I’m eating.”
And now she had the image of Aaron lying naked on a bed stuck in her head.
Great.

Well, yes, it
was
great, actually.

“I could pat your back.”

“Not if you value your hand,” she snapped. “Speaking of broken bones, if that photographer
had given me one more blasted order… Feet together! Chin up! Who does he think he
is?”

“The man who’s paid to take the pictures.”

“He’s lucky he’s still got a camera to do it with.”

“O-kay. Photos all finished now?”

“Not quite. He’s got the bride and groom up a gum tree. Leanne will kill him if her
dress gets damaged.” She brightened at the thought. “Here’s hoping.”

Aaron chuckled, then said, “Now that you mention dresses…did Leanne choose fire-engine
red for yours, or was it your own choice?”

“Leanne did, and beneath her ivory dress she’s wearing red shoes. I think she would
have worn a red dress too if she could have.”

“Why didn’t she? It’s her wedding.”

Jasmine snorted. “You don’t know her mother.”

“Would you let your mother dictate what color wedding dress you should wear?”

She looked down at her food, avoiding his eyes. She didn’t talk about her mother—not
with anyone, and certainly not with Aaron. She drew in a steadying breath and said
in a firm voice, “My mother’s dead, but in Leanne’s place, of course I wouldn’t.”

After a pause he said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

Looking up, she glimpsed something soft in his eyes. Sympathy, maybe. Disconcerted,
she turned to pile additional food onto her plate, then turned back to see Aaron shaking
his head.

“What?”

“You eat more than anyone I know.”

“The women you know are afraid to eat anything that’s not dictated by the latest celebrity
diet.”

“I said, anyone. Male
or
female.”

She shrugged. “You’re just jealous because it takes a lot of work to maintain that
perfect six-pack you’ve got going on there, whereas I’ll run this off tomorrow morning,
no problem.”

“At least you acknowledge that my six-pack is perfect.”

She rolled her eyes. The rest of his body was pretty spectacular too. No doubt he
already knew that.

“Speaking of women, couldn’t you find anyone foolish enough to be your date today?”

“Change of plan,” he said. “I was going to bring Tracey, but after our date last night,
I decided against it.”

“Ooh, she was going to be a two-nighter?”

He shrugged.

“So where did you go last night?”

“The seafood restaurant at the marina. She could have told me that she didn’t eat
seafood when I said I was going to make the reservation. Apparently she went to Sea
World as a child. While they were eating fish and chips for lunch her brother told
her she was eating the slow learners. She hasn’t eaten fish since then.”

Jasmine laughed. “And that’s why you dumped her? Jeez, you’re a man with hidden shallows.”

“Put down the plate, and step away from the table,” Sasha said as she appeared at
her shoulder. “You haven’t dropped any food on your dress, have you?”

“Not yet, why?”

“The photographer wants us to go back for more pictures with Leanne. He’s had a brilliant
idea for a pose for the three of us,” she said with an eye roll. “He’s an artist,
you know. We have to humor him.” Sasha flashed a flirty smile at Aaron. “Hi.”

“Hi, Sasha. You look beautiful.” His smile was equally flirty, and the color in Sasha’s
cheeks deepened till it matched her dress.

Jasmine blinked. He didn’t even have to work at it, did he? One smile and women fell
at his feet. She grasped Sasha’s arm and tugged. “Come on, let’s get this over with.
We’ll have to pick up my flowers on the way. Honestly, if I’d known this bridesmaid
job was going to be such a hassle…”

“You would still have done it. For Leanne’s sake. Gosh, Aaron’s looking particularly
yummy today, isn’t he?” Sasha glanced over her shoulder.

“Yummy?” She pulled a face. “How old are you, six?”

“Are you sure you’re not interested in him?”

“Absolutely sure. And don’t you get any ideas about him either. I told you, he has
a limited attention span.”

She meant what she said…she wasn’t interested in him in the slightest, but for some
inexplicable reason, the fact that he’d complimented Sasha, while doing nothing but
joke about her looks, had sent a spike of indignation through her. Which was ridiculous
because they didn’t have the type of relationship that included flattering each other.
Quite the opposite. It certainly didn’t include flirty smiles.

So what was her problem?

Chapter Two

The party had been in full swing for a while. The afternoon sun had given way to darkness
hours ago, yet it was still warm. Not warm enough to have Jasmine dreaming about a
dip in the pool that was tucked away in a corner of the garden, but balmy enough that
she felt no need to cover her bare shoulders.

Every tree in the large garden had been hung with spherical paper lanterns that lit
up the area with a golden glow. Leanne was glowing too. Jasmine had managed to exchange
a few words with her before her new husband had whisked her onto the temporary dance
floor, and they were still waltzing now, oblivious to their guests, to everything
but each other.

For just an instant there Jasmine had envied her friend, envied her happiness with
her soul mate. She’d tamped down on that emotion pretty quickly. She didn’t need a
man to make her feel whole…she was self-sufficient and quite capable of looking after
herself.

There was that word again.
Capable
.

Jasmine sighed and sipped her champagne. She and Sasha were sitting with Leanne’s
aunt Zoe who, as a young woman, had often collected Leanne from primary school and
had always had pockets full of sweet treats to share with the three girls, far more
than their parents would have condoned. Now they were in their twenties and she was
still a bad influence—only now she was encouraging them to drink more champagne than
they should.

“You, me and Zoe are the only women here who are single.” Sasha leaned forward and
propped her elbow on the table to support her chin.

Jasmine took another sip from her glass. “You might be right,” she said with a shrug.

“It’s not fair. When am I going to get to dance?”

“I’ll dance with you,” Zoe offered. She was in her forties, a career woman and proof,
if Jasmine needed it, that a girl didn’t have to marry to lead a full life. Sasha
pulled an
omigod
face. “You have got to be kidding. I’d rather stick hot needles in my eyes than waltz
with a woman. No offense.”

“None taken.” Zoe frowned. “It’s just that I’d rather like to dance, too, and there
doesn’t seem to be much chance of that.”

“Mac, we’ve been looking everywhere for you.” Dave’s voice jolted Jasmine from her
thoughts. She looked up to see Kane and Aaron strolling up behind him.

“Woo-hoo, look at you,” Dave continued. “Not planning to wear that for your next shift,
I hope?”

“Ha! I’ll wear my dress if you’ll wear yours.”

While Kane laughed at Dave’s expression, Jasmine watched Sasha batting her lashes
in Aaron’s direction. And Aaron smiling back at Sasha.
Good Lord
. Had Sasha not listened to a word she’d said? She had to stop this before it really
got started.

“Hey, Kane,” she said. “Sasha was just saying she’d love to dance. You’ll dance with
her, won’t you?”

Kane scratched his ear. “Er, yeah, I guess so.” Looking at Sasha, he jerked his head
toward the dance floor. “You want to?”

Sasha raised an eyebrow. “How can I refuse when you ask so nicely?” She got to her
feet and winked at Jasmine before heading toward the dance floor at Kane’s side.

Zoe nudged her. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Oh, sorry.” Jasmine made the introductions.

Zoe nodded a greeting at Aaron, then smiled at Dave. “You look like you’d be a good
dancer.”

“Oh, well, I’m not too bad, if I say so myself.”

Zoe gave him a pointed look. “Well?”


Oh
, you mean…?” Dave cleared his throat. “Zoe, may I have the pleasure?” He held out
his hand.

Jasmine watched the two of them leave the table.
Wow
, she mouthed when they started to dance as if they’d known each other for years.
She wasn’t surprised that Zoe could dance, but Dave…she never would have thought it
of him. Then she met Aaron’s eyes for the first time. “Leave Sasha alone.”

“What?”

“You
know
what. She’s not your type.”

With a knowing half smile, he pulled out the chair that Sasha had vacated. “Oh, and
you’d know what my type is, would you?”

“I should. I hear enough about your dates.”

“So, tell me.”

She took another drink. “Beautiful. Blond.”

“Sasha’s blond.”

“Not really. More of a caramel color.”

One eyebrow rising, he said, “I’ve been known to make an exception. Even for brunettes
on occasion.” He studied her hair. “And brunettes with red bits that glint in the
light.”

She stuck out her chin. “Sasha’s looking for Mr. Right. She wants the whole happy-ever-after
scenario…love, marriage, babies, the lot.”

“Until she finds him, she’s entitled to have some fun.”

“She wouldn’t find it fun to be dumped by you after one night of…whatever.”

His smile stretched and his eyes twinkled. “But the night of
whatever
would be a
lot
of fun.”

“Stop it. She’s off-limits. I mean it.” Jasmine drained the champagne from her glass
and set it down with a
clink
. “Why do men chase women they have no intention of marrying?”

“Same reason dogs chase cars they have no intention of driving, I suppose. Because
they can?” He shrugged. “Dance with me.”

“What?”

“Dance with me and I won’t flirt with Sasha.”

She stared. Was he joking?

He stood and moved to stand near her chair. “Come on, we might as well. Everyone else
is dancing. We look like spare parts sitting out here.”

She considered refusing, but she couldn’t honestly think of one good reason why she
should. She wouldn’t have chosen Aaron as her partner, and she knew he wouldn’t have
chosen her if there’d been another option, so they were even. And if she were honest,
she really didn’t enjoy being the only woman not dancing. Maybe it was the champagne
fuddling her brain, but dancing with Aaron didn’t seem like the bad idea she’d thought
it would.

She got to her feet, and that same champagne made her sway a little. She stepped forward
to find her balance, making her heel catch in the crack between stones, catapulting
her toward the ground.

Aaron’s solid chest broke her fall.

“Well.” He chuckled as he clasped her shoulders to steady her. “Reminds me of that
famous pick-up line: If I said you had a beautiful body, would you hold it against
me?”

Her eyes met his. “Hilarious. I’m laughing on the inside.”

Actually, she was doing a lot more than that on the inside…there was some weird stuff
going on in there. Pulling out of his strong, warm grip, trying not to think about
the scrape of his hands across the bare skin of her shoulders, she bent to check her
heel. It seemed a little loose, but it hadn’t broken off.

“Okay to dance?”

“Should be all right.”

“Well, it’s not as if you have to do much, just sway a bit in time with the music.
Or out of time with it. Whatever you can manage.” He made a beckoning gesture with
his hand.

“Are you implying that I can’t dance?” She ignored his hand and walked alongside him
to the dance floor.

“I have no idea whether you can or not. You do seem to be having trouble staying upright.”

“I caught my stupid heel,” she said indignantly. “How women wear these things all
day long I have no idea. And I don’t intend to find out.”

When they reached the dance floor, he placed his hands on her waist, and she stifled
a gasp as satin slithered over skin. To distract herself from the sensation, she said,
“So, is that what makes you irresistible to women—your classy taste in pick-up lines?”

He laughed as he tucked her closer against him and started to move. “Oh, yeah, and
I’ve got a bucket-load of them.”

“I’ll bet.” She could smell his aftershave; it was the one he always used. She knew
it so well, working side by side with him as often as she did, but tonight it made
her nostrils tingle. That was new. “Such as?”

He thought for a moment, then said, “There seems to be something wrong with my phone.
It doesn’t have your number in it.”

“Don’t tell me that works?”

“Yep.” He grinned. “Like a charm.”

“Wow, that just reinforces my opinion of your girlfriends.” She frowned, but it had
less to do with the women who’d go for that line and more to do with her own unaccountable
reaction to dancing with him. In these four-inch heels she was almost as tall as him.
She could feel his hips against her hips, and his thighs against hers. Her body seemed
to be melting against him, and the more she tried to stiffen and pull back, the firmer
his hold on her became.

“Then there’s the old standby: Are you taking applications for your fan club?”

“That’s so lame.”

“I have plenty more where that came from.” He hesitated. “You make my software turn
to hardware.”

Her eyes widened.

Laughing at her expression, he said, “Some women appreciate my wit.”

“Never heard it called that before.”

Before he could answer, her heel gave way and she lurched to the side, saved from
falling by his firm hold.

She stepped out of the broken shoe. “Okay, that’s it for me. My signal to go home.”

“You can’t dance without shoes?”

He sounded disappointed, and she looked up, surprised. She shook her head. “This dress
is too long. It would be ruined, and as it’s the only dress I own, I think I should
look after it.” As she spoke, she gathered the hem in one hand and slipped off the
other shoe. “I’m ready to leave, anyway. It’s been a long day.”

And she did not need to hear any more about Aaron’s
wit
.

“How are you getting home?”

“I’m sharing a taxi with Sasha.” Looking around, she spotted Sasha, still dancing
with Kane, and from the smile on her face, she wasn’t in any hurry to leave. “Or maybe
I’ll be catching a taxi on my own.”

“From here? You’ll be waiting an hour for it to arrive. I might as well drive you
since I’m going to the city anyway.”

“You? Haven’t you been drinking?”

“No, of course not. One glass of champagne hours ago.”

“Oh.” She scooped up the shoes. She really didn’t want to wait around for an hour
or more now that she’d made the decision to leave. “Okay, then. I’ll let Sasha know
she’s on her own.”

Aaron glanced across the floor at Sasha. “Or not.”

As Jasmine turned, she saw what he meant. Sasha had her head on Kane’s shoulder and
they were looking very…together. At least Sasha wouldn’t be unhappy about Jasmine
heading off without her, and Kane would look after her, she was confident of that.
He might be young, but he was reliable, unlike some.

She glanced at Aaron, then shivered because she was no longer pressed up against the
wall of masculine heat that was his body.

“Cold?” He started to shrug out of his suit jacket.

“No
.” She shook her head. She did
not
want his jacket; it would feel far too intimate. And if there was one thing she never
intended to feel with Aaron, it was intimate.

Inside the car, Aaron’s fingers brushed hers as he helped her to load her bag of clothes
into the space behind the passenger seat of his two-seater car. She avoided his eyes,
pretending it hadn’t happened as she dropped her purse into the footwell and settled
back in her seat. She hadn’t bothered to change into her casual clothes, but had draped
a tracksuit jacket around her shoulders against the cooling night air.

Aaron started the engine and steered the car down the winding driveway to the road.
“So, you’re sure my pick-up lines wouldn’t work on you, then?”

“Not a chance.” She’d have preferred him to have a larger car; then his hand on the
gearstick wouldn’t have been so close to her knee. “Even if I didn’t know you.”

He laughed. “I haven’t heard you talk about a boyfriend.”

“That would be because I don’t have one. Don’t you think I would have brought him
to the wedding if I had?” The words had come out a little snappier than she’d meant
them to. It was all this talk about her love life, or lack of one, today. Did weddings
always have this effect on people?

Shrugging, he glanced across at her. “He might have been working. Why don’t you have
one?”

She sighed. “Let’s just say I’m more discerning than you, okay?”

They traveled some way in silence, his headlights picking out the ghostly white trunks
of gum trees along the road’s edge. “What you said about Sasha…is the same true for
you?”

She had to think for a moment, recalling her words. “You mean, am I looking for marriage?”
At his nod, she said, “Not actively, no.”

“What does that mean?”

It meant she’d seen the sham that was her parents’ marriage. She’d seen her father’s
love die in front of her eyes, and she’d watched her mother prove that wedding vows
meant nothing. She looked out of the window in time to see the lights of the city
of Adelaide across the blackness of the valley they were skirting.

“It means that I don’t think it’s for me. I hope, for Leanne’s sake, that it’s possible
for a marriage to be happy, but I haven’t seen any evidence of it myself.”

“So, you and I have something in common after all.”

“No, we don’t. I’m nothing like you.” She certainly wasn’t interested in dating one
man after another the way he dated women. “In fact, we’re complete opposites.”

“Hmm.” He concentrated on the road for a few moments, then said, “Why did you become
a firefighter?”

“It was my dream job. It was all I ever wanted to do.”

“Even as a child?”

“Oh, yeah. I liked the big red truck.”

He laughed. “Well, that’s understandable. Don’t all kids?”

“I have four brothers, so I didn’t grow out of that phase. I’ve always preferred vehicles
with grunt. Not like this wussy little car.”

“Hey, I love this car.”

She watched him stroke the dash with one large hand as if attempting to soothe the
hurt feelings of the little Mazda, then forced herself to swallow.

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