Authors: Angela Verdenius
Seducing Sam
Seducing Sam
By
Angela Verdenius
(BBW Romance)
Copyright
2013 Angela Verdenius
Cover
image courtesy of Luka TBD & istock
Cover
by Joleene Naylor
ebook Edition
License Notes
No
part of this book may be reproduced or copied without prior consent of the
author & publisher.
All
characters and towns are figments of the author’s imagination and bear no
resemblance to any person living or deceased.
Table
of Contents
I
found that some overseas readers were having difficulty with the Australian
slang, so I thought a list of the slang I’ve used will help while reading the
following story. If I’ve forgotten any, I do apologise! Also, you’ll find
some of our Aussie words have different spelling to the US.
*
please note that sizes in the US and Australia differ, so when reading of a set
dress size, check the conversion on-line if you want!
Cheers,
Angela
Australian
Terms/Slang
Arvo
- afternoon
Barbie
- BBQ
Beaut
- beautiful,
awesome, great, wonderful
Bewdy
- as in ‘awsome,
great’
Biccies
- biscuits. The
same as cookies
Bikie
- biker, person who
rides motorcycles.
Bloke/s
- man/men
Bloody
- a swear word ‘no
bloody good’, in place of ‘no damned good’
Boofhead
- idiot,
simpleton, etc. It’s an insult, though sometimes we use it as a term of
affection. It depends on how it is said and meant.
Boot (of a car)
- trunk
Budgie smugglers
- men’s
bathers, small, brief and tight-fitting
Buggered
- many Aussie use
it as a slang word for ‘broken’ (it’s buggered), ‘tired (I’m buggered), and ‘no
way’ (I’m buggered if I’m going to do that). Just some examples
Bung/Bunging
- as in
‘bunging onto something’, putting on something (bung veggies on a plate,
putting veggies on a plate), usually in a careless or ‘easy’ manner.
Chemist
- pharmacy
Chips
- in Australia we have cold crunchy chips from a packet, or hot chips known in some countries as
French Fries
Crash cart
- resuscitation
trolley in a hospital or medical setting - used for life threatening situations
such as cardiac arrest
Dander
– temper
Dill
- silly, idiot
Doona
- like a padded quilt
that fits inside a cover and lies on the bed. Can have the warmth of two,
three or four blankets, etc.
Donger
- penis. Also
another meaning is a place people sometimes sleep in, such as ‘dongers’ on mine
sites.
Dunny
- toilet. When used
in the terms ‘built like a brick dunny’, it refers to something built solid,
unmoveable.
Garbo/s
- the person/s who
drive and/or load garbage onto the garbage truck.
Giggle-box
- TV, television
Got his/her/their goat
–
annoyed him/her/them
Hoon/s
- person/people who
indulge in antisocial behaviour. Great explanation in Wikipedia
Iced coffee/chocolate
- a
milk drink flavoured with chocolate or coffee
Lolly
- sweetie, candy
Loo
- toilet
Lug
- face
Milo
- chocolate malt
drink. Can have it hot or cold. Yummy!
Moosh
- slang for
face/mouth
Mobile phone
- cell phone
Nong
- idiot
Nooky
- sex
Panadol
- paracetamol,
similar to Tylenol in the US
Pav/s
- Pavlova/Pavlovas -
best dessert ever!
PCYC
- Police and Citizens
Youth Club
Pedal Pushers
- three
quarter pants/knickerbockers
Porking
- having sex
Primapore
- sticky patch
with a pad in it, a medical dressing
Pub
– hotel
Quack
– derogatory term for
a doctor
RAC
- Royal Automobile
Club of Western Australia. Covers insurance, holidays, loans, etc
Red backs -
poisonous
spider, black in colour with a red stripe on its back.
Rotty
– Rottweiler breed of
dog.
Rubbers
– condoms
Seasol
- gardening mix used
to nourish plants
Servo
- service station
Shag
- sex
Sheila
– female
Slab
– carton of beer.
Snaggers
- sausages
Soft drink
- soda, fizzy
drink
Tea
- some people call the
evening meal dinner. In my family, we’ve always called it tea, as in breaky,
dinner and tea, or breaky, lunch and tea.
Thongs
- worn on the feet,
same as ‘flip flops’
Tickled pink
- delighted
Tim Tams
- a brand of
Arnott’s Biscuits. Yummy!
TLC
- Tender Loving Care
Togs
- bathers
Torch
- flashlight
Tucker
– food
Twistie
– a brand of
cheese-flavoured snack food – very yummy!
Ute -
small truck
Vegemite
- most Aussies
find this spread yummy, many non-Aussies find it too salty. Here’s the hint -
if you ever have Vegemite, use it spread thinly, never thickly!
Yamaha & Suzuki
-
‘brands’ of motorcycles.
You wally
- silly
Wanger
- penis
Waterworks
- crying
Whopper
- a lie
Driving
- In Australia, you cannot get a driver’s licence to drive a car until you are 17 years old.
You get your Learner’s Permit (which requires you to drive only in the company
of a qualified driver), then at 18 you can go for your Probationary licence
(you can drive on your own but at restricted speed limits), and then finally
you are a fully qualified driver.
“Bugger me dead!” Dropping the
box onto the veranda with a loud clatter, Carly clasped her hand in the other
and squeezed it between her thighs in a vain attempt to stop the pain.
A natural instinct that actually
didn’t work, though almost everyone did it.
She knew she had to check the
damage, but it hurt so damned much that she didn’t want to look. At the very
least, it was a deep cut. At the most, half of her hand was going to fall
off. Neither was something she wanted to see.
“Shit shit
shit
!” Biting
her lip, she leaned back against the wall. Looking down, she could see blood
staining her pale blue pedal pushers. In fact, a slip of blood was dripping
from between her clenched hands. “Uh-oh.”
Closing her eyes, she took a deep
breath. She had to look, had to see what the damage was, and after she
finished picking up her half a hand off the veranda - for sure half
was
going to fall off as soon as she unclenched her thighs from around them - she
would phone Ed, make him return right now, and kill him.
Steeling herself for the worst,
she took another deep breath and-
“Are you all right, honey?” The deep
voice came from above her.
Surely it couldn’t be…
“You’ve cut yourself.” A big hand
came to rest on her back.
Big feet clad only in a pair of
thongs appeared to her gaze.
Oh great
. Lifting her head, she looked up
a pair of long, muscular legs to find herself on level with the half fastened fly
on a baggy pair of cargo shorts. Craning her head, she looked higher. Yep,
there was that incredible six pack and further up a pair of impressive pecs.
Big, broad shoulders. She couldn’t straighten much further without unclenching
her thighs, but there was no doubting the identity of the man.
The imbecile from across the road,
Sam Willow. Big, dumb, Sam Willow. Built like a wet dream and as thick as two
bricks.
In the short time she’d been intermittently
here unpacking, she’d seen him searching for his shovel, his glasses, his hat,
his water bottle, and his cat, who’d been sitting on the swing chair on the veranda.
Beside his probably forgotten book.
Ed had come in chortling the night
before to tell her that Sam had, apparently, forgotten his date, too. She’d
been knocking on his door and he’d appeared wearing a pair of boxers and nothing
else, a totally befuddled look on his handsome face.
Great body, handsome face, empty
head. Shame, but there you have it.
It figured that her luck would go
like this. Just when she needed someone who knew what they were doing, when
her hand was going to probably fall off, she had the dumb ox of the
neighbourhood telling her the obvious. He’d probably sticky tape it up for her,
if he didn’t faint first.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re bleeding.”
“You don’t say.”
A sudden move and then he was
crouched in front of her, startling her when his face appeared right in her
line of vision.
Dumb he might be, but she had to
admit that up close he was one fine looking bloke. Shoulder length,
sun-streaked, sandy hair fastened at his nape, thick-lashed, hazel eyes that up
close were almost startling, especially when she saw the emerald flecks within
the grey, the sudden intensity in those eyes. A straight nose and a mouth that
was pure masculine beauty - full yet firm. Throw in the cleft in his chin and
a square jaw that added strong character, and he was incredibly handsome in a
fresh, sunny, surfie way.
It was the first time she’d seen
him up close and her breath caught. Damn, those rugged looks and that even
more rugged body was a sin, so wasted on an airhead. Such a crying
shame
.
One big hand came out, the muscles
in his arm flexing, his fingers long and firm as he took hold of her wrist.
“Show me.”
Blinking back her dazed awe, she
came back to reality. “I’m fine.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
Oh, those words were like honey.
No, wait, his voice was like honey, all warm and soothing. His grip, however,
while gentle, she couldn’t help but notice was sure, those long fingers
wrapping around her wrist as though he wasn’t going to tolerate any resistance.
The hell if she was going to allow
this big, yummy, dumb ox to try and control her. “I said, I’m fine.” Straightening,
Carly unclenched her thighs and jerked her hand away, only to blink and gape at
her hand. Holy Hannah, how much blood was there? “Freakin’ heck, my hand
is
going to fall off!”
Now two big hands had hold of
hers, one around her wrist, the other cupping the back of her hand as Sam
studied her throbbing and bloodied palm as though he knew what he was doing.
“You might need stitches.”
“What?” She jerked at her hand.
“No!”
“I’ll take you to the hospital
and-”
“No. No way.” She tried to
wrench her hand away, only to gasp at the pain.
Those thick lashes lifted and Sam
looked her squarely in the eyes. “Honey, it’s going to be all right.”
“I am not going to the hospital
and that’s final.” She set her jaw. “I can fix this. Honestly.”
Looking on the bright side, at least
half her hand wasn’t falling off. That had to be a bonus. On this whole
miserable day it had to be the one thing that shone brightly.
Sam didn’t waste time. One smooth
motion and he pushed upright, but instead of releasing her hand, he kept it
cradled in his and placed his other hand at her back, turning her with what she
could swear was a practiced move, and proceeded to use his body to usher her
ahead of him into the house.
“What the-” she began.
“Kitchen?”
She tried to dig in her heels.
“Look, I-”
“Kitchen?”
“Really, I-”
“Honey, where is the kitchen?”
When she looked up at him - and
she had to tip her head back to do so, hell, he was tall - it was to find him
looking down at her with quiet determination. Okay, that was unexpected.
“Umm…end of the hall.” When he
proceeded to usher her along, she started to protest, “Look, I can do this
myself. You really don’t need to worry.”
Without answering, he took her
right into the kitchen and led her across to the sink, standing beside her as
he angled her hand under the tap and turned on the water.
It hit her palm in a gentle stream
and she cursed.
“Let’s have a look.” He angled
her hand this way and that, the water washing the blood away, more trickling in
its place.
Deciding there was no point
fighting him, Carly did as bidden, and slowly she realised that Sam did,
indeed, seem to know what he was doing. He studied her palm intently, his
focus on the long, deep cut.
Standing so close beside him -
okay, right up against him, to be truthful - she suddenly became aware of his
clean, male scent. His skin was warm where her arm brushed against him, a shiver
of something a little hotter stirring at her loins.
Whoa
.
And then
whoa
again, but
for an entirely different reason. Now she could see the cut, and it was long,
it was deep, and she felt a little faint.
Refusing to show it, she managed
to say airily, “See? Not as bad as we thought.”
He shifted slightly and she
glanced up to see him gazing down at her intently. “Not as good, either.”
“But not as bad.”
“Hmmm.” He glanced around. “Where
are your clean tea towels?”
Reaching to the side, she opened
the drawer and pulled one out.
Taking it from her, he wrapped it
around her hand. “Press on this, it’ll help stop the bleeding.”
She obeyed, wincing a little.
“This may need stitches.”
“No.”
“It won’t hurt.”
“That’s right, it won’t, because
I’m not getting stitches.”
Sam looked down at her, and she
met his gaze full on.
“Not happening,” she said when he
opened his mouth.
“Okay.” He led her back to the
table and sat her down. “First aid kit?”
“Don’t have one.” At his raised
eyebrows, she added, “Well, I do, but it could be in any of the boxes, or even still
at the old place.”
“I’ll be back.” He left the room.
Sitting at the table, the only
sound the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall, Carly stared at her tea-towel
wrapped hand. Well, wonders would never cease. Her hand hadn’t fallen off,
and Sam might not be such a moron after all. If nothing else, she had some eye
candy to console herself while he possibly mangled her hand.
Talk about being the bitch of the
day.
Sighing, Carly rolled her
shoulders backward and forward to ease the tension. He was only trying to be
nice, that was all, no mistaking it. An ironic smile twisted her lips. While
she regarded him as dumb eye candy, he probably regarded her as the complete
opposite - an obnoxious round ball, perhaps?
A noise in the hallway announced
Sam’s return, and she turned to see him enter holding a large first aid box in
one big hand.
“Quite a collection you have there.”
She eyed it as he set it on the table and opened the lid, drawing out a top
tray to reveal a multitude of dressings and bandages beneath it.
“Always be prepared,” he replied.
“Boy Scout?”
“How did you guess?”
“Stab in the dark.”
Smiling, he unwrapped her hand. “New
to the neighbourhood?”
“How did
you
guess?”
He slanted her a look that wasn’t
entirely easy-going, a fact that had her blinking just a little. Maybe Sam
wasn’t as dumb as she first thought.
“Yes.” Surprisingly unable to
hold his gaze, she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m new.”
“It’s a nice area.” Pulling the
tea towel away, he placed it on the table and studied her hand.
Leaning forward, Carly studied her
palm.
Ewww
. “Glad to hear it.” At least it wasn’t bleeding so much
now.
Sam sloshed some kind of solution
into a small plastic dish, and, with dexterity, he proceeded to use a pair of
tweezers to dip and squeeze out some gauze. Attention on her palm, he dabbed
the cut.
Carly bit her lip at the slight
sting.
“Planning on staying long?” Sam
queried as he cleaned the cut.
“For a while.”
“Alone?”
Now she eyed him warily. “No.”
“Kids?”
“Is this an inquisition?”
One brow arched as he glanced at
her. “Just being friendly.”
His expression was so open and pleasant
that she felt a rush of shame. Good lord, she hadn’t been this bitchy in a
long time. She’d hurt herself, and while Sam was doing a remarkably good job
of patching her up, she was being snarky. Nothing was his fault.
It was time to pull her head in,
get a grip, and be a grown-up.
Taking a deep breath, she blew it
out slowly and attempted a smile. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired.”
“Moving will do that to you.” He
removed several small strips of some kind of tape from a packet and proceeded
to place them across the cut on her palm, drawing the edges of the cut together
and effectively sealing it. “Are you doing it alone?”
“For now. Ed will be home soon.”
She hoped. The moron was taking his time.
“I can help in the meantime.”
Deftly, he placed a wide, white, sticky plaster with a pad of some kind on her palm,
covering the strips and the cut.
“No, it’s fine.” Wiggling her
fingers, Carly admired the job. “This is pretty good.”
“I’d hope so.” He started to
clean up the bits of paper.
Reaching out, she took the
scraps. “You’ve patched me up. I can do that.”
“It’s no problem.” Straightening,
he turned headed over to the little bin, dumping the contents inside before returning
to the table.
Studying him as he repacked the
first aid kit, she wondered where he’d learned to do such good first aid work.
“I suppose you’ve taken classes.”
“You could say that.” He flashed
her a wide smile, his teeth white against his tanned skin.
The whole effect of that sparkling
smile in that handsome, friendly face, was one that made her smile back
involuntarily. It sent a warmth through her, a feeling that he looked at her -
right at her - and liked what he saw. It was a dumb thing to think, but after
what she’d been through it was very welcome.
She stood up. “Thank you. You’re
very kind.”
“My pleasure.” Unexpectedly, he
stuck out his hand. “I’m Sam Willow. I live across the street.”
It was on the tip of her tongue to
tell him that she already knew that but instead, she placed her hand in his
much bigger one. “I’m Carly Miller. I’m only a bitch now and again.
Unfortunately, you got me on a bitch day.”
His laugh was low, deep, amused,
and that combined with the way his big hand gently closed around hers had the
warmth seeping through her.
Sam made no effort to brush away
her words. “I’m pleased to meet you, Carly.”
The sincerity on his face was
unexpected, flustering her. It had been a long time since any man had
flustered her.
Normally ready with snappy
comebacks, Carly had another first time in her life - unable to think of a witty
reply. Dropping her gaze to her palm, she lightly rubbed the patch with one
finger. “Ummm…thanks again.”
Idiot! Just look at him. For
God’s sake, he’s just a man.
Taking another deep breath, she straightened
her shoulders and looked up, prepared to meet that intense gaze only to find
him packing up the first aid kit and moving past her.
“Keep the dressing dry,” Sam instructed.
“Don’t change it for at least forty eight hours unless it gets dirty.”
Stopping in the doorway, he looked at her. “Actually, I’ll come back and check
it for you, change the Primapore.”
