Bold (15 page)
Didn’t Jess know it. Sure, she felt sorry for her vibrant mom suffering a stroke that rendered her left side immobilized. And she didn’t begrudge helping her. What she couldn’t stand was the constant interference in her life when she’d escaped Pam’s smothering years earlier.
They may live in Craye Canyon, an hour out of Vegas, but that’s where the similarities between her life and her mom’s ended.
Pam went through boyfriends like coffee filters. She pranced around town in mini skirts and tube tops, had her hair blow-waved daily and cleaned out the town’s cosmetic supply on a regular basis. She planned weddings with panache and style, at odds with her loud, brash self.
Little wonder Jess had chosen an occupation far removed from her mom’s flamboyance. Town librarian was staid, unassuming and quiet. It suited Jess just fine. Until she’d heard rumors the local council considered Craye Canyon Library a dead loss and would downsize soon, so she saved them the trouble and quit, leaving her jobless and directionless.
In a way, planning Zazz’s wedding had given her breathing space to decide where she went from here. One thing Jess knew, she was tired of her boring life. Sick to death of it. Zazz was right. She needed to shake things up a little.
“You need an island fling.” Zazz snapped her fingers, her grin positively evil. “Hot stud. Sun, surf, sex.”
Sounded pretty damn perfect. “And here I was, thinking you were flying me to some island to plan your wedding.”
Zazz waved away her concern. “It’ll happen, I have full confidence in you.”
“The wedding or the sex?”
“Both.” Zazz’s eyes narrowed as she smirked. “How do you like your eggs in the morning?”
“Huh?”
“The chef?” Zazz fanned her face. “Unbe-freaking-lievable. Sex on legs.”
“Yeah, right.” Jess rolled her eyes. “Those black and white checkered pants do it for me every time.”
Zazz laughed. “Trust me, once you get a look at this guy, those ugly pants won’t be staying on for long.”
“Chefs aren’t my type.”
The moment the lie tumbled from Jess’s lips, memories long suppressed flashed before her eyes.
An outback holiday in Australia. A cattle station cook. A kiss that defied belief. And a refusal that burned, real bad.
Jack McVeigh graced TV screens the world over these days, a constant reminder of what she’d once wanted and couldn’t have. With that bad boy stubble, murky green eyes and lazy smile, no great surprise he’d won the hearts of viewers glued to his gourmet cooking show with the same ease he’d won hers.
Pity the celebrity chef preferred to break hearts along with eggs.
“Trust me, babe. If this chef can’t get into your panties, no one will.”
Unease rippled down Jess’s spine like a premonition. “Who’s this mystery guy?”
Zazz glanced at her watch. “You’ll see for yourself in five minutes. I asked him to meet us here.”
Jess ignored the persistent tingle that maybe, just maybe, Zazz’s chef could be Jack.
Impossible, considering Jack was based in Sydney and had enough gigs to keep him busy into the next century. Yeah, she Googled him, so what?
Besides, Zazz had said the chef catering the wedding was an old friend of Dorian’s so the guy had to be the same vintage.
She didn’t know what bothered her more: the sliver of disappointment she wouldn’t see Jack face to face after a decade or the inhuman leap of her libido at the thought of a little one-on-one island time with the sexy chef.
“I need to check my final show times with Chantal.” Zazz slipped her dainty feet into a pair of marabou feather mules and tightened the sash on her robe. “I’ll be back in time for our meeting.”
“What’s his name—” Jess called out to Zazz’s retreating back, wishing she had half the hip wiggle the sassy dancer had.
When Jess walked, men didn’t stumble or gawk. She didn’t warrant second glances or come-ons. She achieved exactly what she wanted to—anonymity and serenity, two qualities far removed from her boisterous, cringe-worthy mom.
With a sigh, she stood and wandered around the room, her fingertips stroking the satins and silks, savoring the lush fabrics she could never wear in a million years.
Her fingers snagged on a set of gold spangled pasties complete with sparkly-fringed tassels and she picked them up, held them over her nipples, and grimaced.
So not her.
“Hey Jess.”
Shock ripped through the carefully constructed poise Jess had honed to a fine art over the years as her hands fell to her sides.
She’d envisaged her first meeting with Jack over the years. Kinda inevitable, with her brother Reid being his best mate.
In her scenarios, their first meeting after a decade didn’t involve nipple pasties. Or a smoother-than-whisky voice that made her palms sweat, her skin prickle and her inner bombshell want to strip on the spot.
“Hey you.”
Not quite the scintillating opening gambit she’d imagined. Then again, having this big, bronze Aussie cross the room to stand less than a foot away had thrown her brain into chaos and her body into meltdown.
“Nice tassels.”
His fingertip toyed with the nipple tassels hanging limply in her hand and she stiffened.
In the past, she would’ve responded with a blush. But after what he’d done to her? The way he’d humiliated her? Not a chance in hell she’d give him the satisfaction of seeing her cave again.
She held them over her breasts, vindicated when those impossibly green eyes widened, the pupils constricting. “Care to see them on?”
He took a step back. “Don’t play with fire.”
She took a step forward. “Maybe I’m in the mood to get hot?”
He swore. “You and me? Not going to happen.”
“So you’ve said before,” she drawled, giving the tassels a twirl for good measure, reveling in his discomfort as he tore his gaze away from her breasts. “But a decade is a long time.”
“Not frigging long enough,” he muttered, casting a desperate glance at the door.
So she ramped up the tension.
“These?” She waved the tassels in his face, deliberately taunting. “Tip of the iceberg in my new wardrobe. You should see me in the purple suspenders and sheer, crotchless—”
“Enough.” A low, warning growl she had no intention of obeying. “Is this the way you treated your fiancé? Not surprised he bolted.”
Just like that, her bravado faded, replaced by the dogged insecurity that tainted her botched relationship with Max, and fury at Jack for judging her.
“Fuck you.” She eyeballed him, willing away the incriminating tears stinging her eyes.
That’s when she saw the glimmer of victory in his eyes and knew he’d deliberately insulted her to push her away, like he had ten years earlier.
He turned and headed for the door, but not before she heard his murmured, “Babe, you have no idea how much I wish for that.”
If you’d like to read more of Nicola’s books, they’re available from all e-book suppliers.
Her complete booklist is here:
http://www.nicolamarsh.com/books.html
USA TODAY bestselling and multi-award winning author Nicola Marsh writes flirty fiction with flair for adults and riveting, spooky stories for teens.
She has published 53 contemporary romances with Harlequin, Entangled Publishing and indie, and sold over 6 million copies worldwide. Her first mainstream romance BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD was nominated for Romantic Book of the Year 2012. Her first indie romance, CRAZY LOVE, was a 2012 ARRA finalist.
Her debut young adult novel, a supernatural thriller BANISH, released with Harlequin Teen August 2013, and her YA urban fantasy SCION OF THE SUN won the 2014 National Readers’ Choice Award for Best Young Adult novel.
She’s also a Waldenbooks, Bookscan and Barnes & Noble bestseller, a 2013 RBY (Romantic Book of the Year) and National Readers’ Choice Award winner, and a multi-finalist for a number of awards including the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, HOLT Medallion, Booksellers’ Best, Golden Quill, Laurel Wreath, More than Magic and has also won several CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Awards.
A physiotherapist for thirteen years, she now adores writing full time, raising her two little heroes, sharing fine food with family and friends, and her favorite, curling up with a good book!
She loves connecting with readers online:
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http://twitter.com/NicolaMarsh
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Blog:
http://www.nicolamarsh.blogspot.com
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