In the Market for Love

Chapter two

Chapter three

Chapter four

Chapter five

Chapter six

Chapter seven

Chapter eight

Chapter nine

Chapter ten

Chapter eleven

Chapter twelve

Chapter thirteen

Chapter fourteen

Chapter fifteen

Epilogue

“What do you think you’re doing? Can’t you read?”

Her car door was already open so Rachel Williams slid out and closed it. Slightly disoriented in the dim basement car park, she took a moment to get her bearings as she wondered if that voice and those abrupt words were directed at her.

Standing in front of her, silhouetted by the headlights of his car, the imposing figure of a tall broad shouldered man towered over
her petite form.

Where had he come from? Why was his Porsche blocking her way?

“Just a minute.” His words hung in the cool air as he leaned into his vehicle to switch off his headlights before slowly walking back towards her.

“Excuse me
.” He pointed at Rachel’s vehicle. “You’ll have to move your car.”

“I don’t think so,”
she replied. “I have a meeting in this building and I was told I could–”

“Well
, that’s my parking spot and you can’t park in it.”

Now that he’d approached her, his voice softened to become rich and mellifluous, engulfing her with its dense tones. She should have been offended but there was something about
his voice that got to her.

She
peered up to meet his dark gaze. He flicked his eyes away and ran them along the length of her red Ford Laser. Although an older model, it was clean and well presented but Rachel sensed this would mean nothing to a man who drove an expensive, imported sports car.

Driving in Sydney was so difficult it had taken
her longer than expected to get across town for her meeting. She couldn’t be late, not after two years hard work setting up the campaign. Yet that would almost certainly be the case if she had to move her car and navigate an unfamiliar car park.

People with flash cars and money always
believed they deserved priority. She’d met this kind of man before and didn’t appreciate the derisive look he’d given her perfectly respectable vehicle.

“Sorry if my old heap is taking up the space of your expensive car,” she
said.

He
took a small step backwards. She sensed he didn’t wish to make her feel nervous, yet he appeared to take the opportunity to better consider her, his eyes skimming the length of her figure. Detecting the hint of a suggestive smile forming on his lips, Rachel’s eyes narrowed as she stepped towards him.

He raised his hands. “I wasn’t insulting your car. I only asked you to move it.”

She tossed her dark wavy hair behind her shoulders, pushing a few stray tendrils behind her ears. She was going to face him head on.

Clearly this man thought his needs and business priorities were much more important than hers. He probably had stocks and shares to sell and deals to close. She was going to be late but that wasn’t his problem for he was more concerned with ordering her around.

He was every bit as audacious as her husband had been all those years ago when he’d put his needs, or desires, ahead of hers. So convincing. So confident. She wasn’t going to be taken in again.

Rachel
planted her hands on her hips. “Move my car. And why should I do that? Is this space earmarked for luxury vehicles? Because I don’t see a sign anywhere.”

“What about that one over there?”

Her mouth fell open as she looked up at the reserved sign painted on the wall in front of her car. She hadn’t intended on stealing anyone’s parking space but that’s exactly what she’d done.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise…”

“Didn’t realise you’d get caught,” he said, a teasing tone in his voice.

“No, I didn’t see the
sign. It’s in such a dark corner.”

Rachel tilted her jaw to better consider him, taking in the burnt almond eyes, slim contoured fac
e and chiselled jaw. His mouth was lush and sensual unlike the rest of his features which were commandingly masculine. His clothes, a simple crew neck shirt with a well cut grey jacket and flat fronted pants, were barely a shade lighter than his glossy raven black hair. His style was elegant and simple but unforgiving, just like his personality.

He might be handsome but she wasn’t going to be taken in by it. Good looking men
were almost always more trouble than they were worth. It didn’t give him the right to be so overbearing over a simple, honest mistake.

“Do you have any idea how intimidating this is for a woman?
” she asked. “Being accosted in a car park like this?”

“I’m very sorry. The last thing I want is to intimidate you.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that? You’re not doing a very good job of convincing me,” she said.

“Look, I only wanted
you to shift your car and then–”

“And I suppose the word ‘please’ didn’t occur to you, Mr…” She struggled to find the right words. “Mr Porsche!”

His lips curled to an amused smile. “Actually, I thought I’d leave you to it and take the visitor’s spot for myself.”

Rachel glared at him. “Thank
you.” The words sounded more like a reprimand.

He slid
into the low leather seat of the Porsche, turning to catch her eye as he closed the door and lowered the electric window. He must be taunting her with that soft sensual smile.

Since h
er car door was already closed, she’d missed the opportunity to slam it shut. Instead she held his gaze as she pressed the remote locking button on her key ring with a vengeance, wishing she could demonstrate her power with a more decisive action.

She
strutted away, her heels clicking on the concrete pavement. The sooner she got away from this man, the better.

*          *          *

Jake Austin stood by his car.

“Damn it,” he muttered.

Grabbing his briefcase, he slammed the door of his Porsche shut and ran the length of the car park until he reached the lift.

It was too late. She was gone.

This was a big building and she could be anywhere. There were probably fifty other businesses apart from his in the tower. How could he have let her leave without getting her phone number or at least her name?

He paced
the bare pavement in front of the closed lift doors and wondered how it was possible for a woman to have swept him into such a tempest so quickly. She was certainly a blast of fresh air. In his line of work he met new people all the time but it had been a long time since he’d met someone with such energy and vitality.

He shook his head. The woman was a tornado.

“Come on.” Jake slammed his fist into the lift button before leaning against the masonry wall, his mind deep in thought. Or was it turmoil?

It wasn’t just his intellect this woman had excited. Closing his eyes, he pictured the delicate features of her face, the prominent cheekbones, the pale prepossessing eyes framed by lush dark lashes, so striking against her smooth creamy skin.

He’d liked what he’d seen. Her pink jacket, nipped in at the waist, outlined her slender figure and the matching skirt flattered her shapely hips and long toned thighs. Clearly the outfit highlighted her femininity but then again that would be difficult to hide.

A surge of electricity charged deep within him. Did she have any idea of the effect she’d had? Had she felt even a fraction of what he had?

There was nowhere else for him to go but back to the office. He punched the lift button again.

“How could I have let her get away?” he muttered.

He had been abrupt at first when he’d shouted across the car park but he hadn’t seen her, hadn’t even considered she might be a woman let alone one with such vitality. So full of spark and energy, she gave as good as she got. Now there was a woman who wouldn’t back down.

He should
slow down and get a grip. It wasn’t as though he was seventeen any more. He was thirty-seven years old yet he was acting like a love struck schoolboy. What had this woman done to him?

She’d poked fun at his car too
. So many women, and men for that matter, were impressed by wealth, a big house, an expensive car.

Not this woman. She sneered at his car. Called him Mr Porsche.

There was so much in Jake’s 1970s silver Porsche 911 Turbo that reflected his personality that normally he would have taken offence at such a comment. There were more expensive cars on the market but with a hint of retro funk mixed with the unmistakable Porsche styling, there was no vehicle which suited him better.

H
e could have lived comfortably from his family’s wealth but he was driven by the need to be successful in his own right. He’d inherited his father’s business acumen and combined this with his own creative streak to thrive in the cutthroat world of advertising. And the first thing he’d done all those years ago with his initial business success was buy that car.

It was a shame she thought
he’d looked down on her car for that was certainly not his intention. He was only looking at it because it was in his spot. And how glad he was of that.

Only one woman had ever made him feel this way before. Only one woman had excited that spark in him, played and sparred with him as an equal. Yet that relationship had not ended well. But this was a different woman
.

Then it hit him. He couldn’t let her get away. Striding towards her red Laser, he decided the very least he could do was leave a note on her car.

Jake pictured her mouth falling open in shock, her plump lips parting with surprise when she found the missive. Would she take it seriously? Did she have an inkling of the tumult she’d raised in him? Surely she wouldn’t dismiss him so soon and screw up the note and toss it aside.

Placing his briefcase on the bonnet of
her car, he found a pen easily but struggled to find a piece of paper. The sight of his leather bound diary reminded him of the meeting for which he was almost certainly late. Another tedious request for pro bono work. It’d have to wait.

Ripping a blank she
et of paper from his diary, he leaned against the car only to find himself tormented all over again. He had to take a few moments to consider what on earth he should write. He worked in advertising so this should have been easy for him but it wasn’t.

The woman had spark. That was for sure. He needed to write something with an electricity to match hers. Something to grab her attention and make
her want to contact him. A hint of raciness. But not too much…

*          *          *

Alone in the mirrored lift, Rachel took the opportunity to check her hair and make-up, not that she wore much. Expecting to see smudged mascara, dishevelled hair and clothes askew, she stared at her reflection only to find she looked calm and composed.

How was that possible when her insides had been whisked into such a flurry? Although their encounter had been brief, meeting that man in the basement had unsettled her, sent her into a spin. And none of this fit into her neat, orderly world.