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Chapter 6

Chapter Six

W hile Nick's smile didn't slip, his cool composure cracked a little. The woman he once loved labelling him a jerk shouldn't matter, but it did.

But he couldn't dwell on it. The Britt he once knew intimately was still there under the fancy business suit and blonde-streaked hair; she'd shown him with that magnificent temper bursting like a tropical thunderstorm.

The old Britt wouldn't agree to his proposal, while the career-focused woman in sky-high stilettos and a designer suit would if he presented it the right way.

'Consider this a business transaction, Britt, a win-win situation for us both. Nothing more, nothing less.'

He glimpsed a flicker of interest at his mention of business before her temper flared again.

'You're crazy. Stark raving mad.' She raked her hands through her immaculately blow-dried hair, sending it into the frizz he remembered. 'What's that expression Papa used to say? Sei pazzo . You're crazy, that's what you are.'

His heart griped as it always did at the mention of his father. 'You remember that?'

All the fight drained out of her and she slumped back into the chair, defeated, and he yearned to sweep her into his arms and show her this deal was the perfect solution for them.

Raising wide eyes to stare at him in capitulation, she nodded. 'I remember a lot of things.'

He waited, captured by the deepening blue, by the emotions shifting like jacaranda blossoms floating on a spring breeze.

He didn't want to feel—certainly didn't want to feel like this , damn it—but when she looked at him with remembrance clouding her eyes and a softening around her lush mouth all he could think about was how incredible she used to feel in his arms.

He didn't want to rehash the past, to taint this deal with emotion, but he couldn't resist asking, 'What do you remember?'

Her tongue darted out to moisten her bottom lip, a simple, unaffected gesture that shot straight to his groin; nothing unaffected about his visceral reaction.

‘How we used to lie under that jacaranda tree down by the creek and stare up at the clouds and see who could make the craziest shape.'

Her mouth softened more and he stiffened, shocked by how much he wanted to ravage those lips.

‘I remember the times you took me into Noosa on the back of your bike and how we'd picnic in Noosaville rather than mix with the hob-knobs on Hasting Street.'

She gave up moistening her bottom lip in favour of worrying it and he clamped down on a groan.

‘I remember how you'd look at me with stars in your eyes, as if I was the only woman for you.'

She didn't glance away as he expected her to, didn't push him away when he swept her into his arms and crushed his mouth on hers.

She tasted of lime and sugar, tart and sweet, and he knew she'd been guzzling sugar-cane juice as she used to. She'd been addicted to the stuff back then, like he'd been addicted to her.

He could never get enough of Britt and it looked as if nothing had changed as his tongue swept into her mouth, taunting, challenging, savouring her passionate response as she clung to him, her fingers tangling in his buttons as he pulled her flush against him.

This deal was supposed to be purely business, but as their kiss deepened to the point of no return he knew he was kidding himself.

What he felt around Britt, how his blood fired when she was in his arms, had nothing to do with business and everything to do with earth-shattering pleasure.

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