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‘No, I’ll be fine.’
Her bottom lip gave a convincing quiver and before he could stop himself he reached out and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking that wobbly lip into calm.
‘You sure?’
A tiny sigh puffed against his thumb; that one small vulnerability had him yearning to bundle her into his arms.
Crazy. He didn’t do cuddles. He did hard and fast sex all night long; the kind of sex that didn’t beg questions or require answers, the kind of sex that satisfied without complicating matters. Right now, he’d give anything to have that kind of sex with the woman staring at him with guilt in her big green eyes.
Some of what he was thinking must’ve shown on his face for she shuffled to her right, a subtle move to put some distance between them.
‘It’s not so bad. I’ll live. So let’s try this again. What are you doing here?’
‘Already told you. Pop fired some jackass who lost the company a stack of cash and asked me to step in on this tour. Apparently Storm Varth is potentially worth a small fortune if his comeback takes off so the books need to be balanced right.’
‘Why the hell would he ask you?’
His eyebrows shot up at her blunt question as she belatedly clamped her lips shut.
‘I know a thing or two about companies.’
‘Like how to sweet-talk receptionists and influence female CEOs?’
‘Like how they run, how they can increase profit margins, how they can tighten outlays.’
Surprise widened her eyes. He liked that, catching her off guard. She viewed him as a flake that travelled around the world, lolling on beaches doing little else.
If she only knew: being in the public eye constantly, pretending to like people who were essentially self-serving and didn’t give a damn about doing anything for anybody else unless it got their greedy mugs in the glossies, dating a string of vacuous celebs to further his cause … It was damn hard work and becoming increasingly tough.
He’d done it for years now, ensuring charities were financially viable, especially those with underprivileged kids—the kind of kid he would’ve been if it hadn’t been for Hector’s generosity.
With every dollar he took from the rich who could afford it, with every dollar bestowed on those kids who needed it, he released some of his pent-up bitterness at the past. He still had a long way to go.
‘You did a finance degree?’
‘Economics and marketing at uni. Stuff like that interests me.’
Or more to the point, how companies could invest in his pet projects, the things that really mattered.
Her astute stare bored into him and he sat back, clasped his hands behind his head, the epitome of a guy who didn’t give a damn. And he usually didn’t but there was something about this woman, some indefinable quality that made him want her to like him.
‘You really are an international man of mystery, aren’t you?’
He winked. ‘That’s Petrelli, Luca Petrelli to you.’
Her mouth relaxed into a soft smile, kicking him in the guts. Or lower to be precise. That kiss in the car had been a mere prelude. Those beautiful lips, the lush full bottom lip, begged to be kissed. Repeatedly. All night long.
She stood abruptly and he mentally kicked himself for letting his thoughts drift south when they’d been getting along, establishing some kind of fragile rapport.
‘Thanks for dinner. It was great.’
‘My pleasure.’
Her gaze locked on his, his last word hanging in the silence between them, promising so much if she’d let herself go.
She wanted to; he could see it in the pulse beating frantically in her neck, in her slightly parted lips, in the shimmer of her eyes.
Then she blinked, straightened and the invisible thread holding them spellbound vanished in an instant.
‘See you in the morning. Eight sharp.’
‘Eight it is.’
She managed a tight smile at his half salute before diving for the safety of her bedroom.
Beautiful Charli could run but she couldn’t hide. The spark between them was intangible but it was there and he had every intention of creating a few more before this tour was out.
CHAPTER FOUR
CHARLI stretched her neck from side to side, trying to work out the kinks. Stupid hard pillows. Though she knew the pain in her neck had more to do with her constant tossing all night while mentally rehashing conversations with Luca—and remembering him in that damn towel—than any pillow.
She didn’t want to like him, didn’t want to feel anything for him, but after that thoughtful dinner he’d set out last night and that moment they’d shared, she’d thought of little else all night but how easy it would be to succumb to his many charms.
Blowing out an exasperated huff, she knocked on Storm’s door again. Her first knock had been loud enough to rouse half of Ballarat but not so much as a curtain had twitched behind the heavily tinted windows of the longest bus she’d ever seen.
She’d organised many tour buses over the years but Storm had insisted he bring his own, and after seeing the gigantic two-semi-length monstrosity painted glossy black with his signature storm clouds and lightning bolts slashing the sides, she knew why. It signalled showman.
As for the inside, she hadn’t seen it, thanks to Storm living up to his superlative cranky reputation yesterday and holing away inside the bus, corresponding with her via terse text messages.
Today, she’d set the tour ground rules and make sure the idiosyncratic rocker played her way.
Her hand clenched into a fist and rapped for the third time, on the window this time, not stopping until she glimpsed a flicker of curtain.
Charli waited while Storm played his little mind games—she’d heard he was notoriously late, notoriously rude, just plain notorious—mentally checking the list she’d made on Landry Records’ latest star.
Storm Varth: fifty-six, had topped world charts for eight weeks running thirty years ago, had a string of bad songs to his name over the past few decades and a string of bad women.
He’d been in rehab five times, in love ten and had finally sobered up enough over the past year for Hector to take a chance on reviving his career.
Personally, she had her doubts on the hard-living rocker lasting the distance this tour let alone making another recording but Hector had a good eye for talent, old or otherwise, so she’d make sure she did a damn good job no matter how much she wanted to throttle him.
‘Take your time, Mr Varth. The longer you take with your day itinerary, the less time you’ll have for trawling bars tonight.’
She bit back a grin as she heard fiddling with the lock accompanied by a string of curses before the door finally opened.
‘Good morning.’
She gave him her best fake smile, designed to dazzle with just a hint of ‘don’t mess with me’ thrown in.
‘What’s so freaking good about it?’
When Storm finally stepped into view, she bit the inside of her cheek to stop from laughing out loud.
Fifty-six-year-old guys shouldn’t wear mid-thigh emerald silk kimonos, no matter how rich or famous.
‘You’ve studied the itinerary for today?’
He leered at her through bleary eyes, his blond-tipped three-inch spikes standing to attention as he ruffled his hair.
‘Would rather study you, sweetheart.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘We’ve already been through this. Me, tour manager, you, rock star. Professional relationship, comprende?’
‘I love it when you talk foreign.’
Hanging onto the door, he leaned so far forward he almost tumbled out of the bus and she couldn’t help but laugh.
‘Come on, Storm, play nice.’
Before he could make another innuendo about playing with her, she held up her hand.
‘Get dressed. Eat. Sign the rest of those promo photos—’
‘Yeah, yeah, I remember, then we tour the local music shops, sweet-talk the owners into promoting the concert tomorrow night, yada, yada, yada.’
He waved his hand around, making the kimono gape in front and she quickly averted her eyes before she got more than an unwanted glimpse of greying chest hair and fake-tan flabby abs.
‘And if you’re on your best behaviour, you’ll get the afternoon off to visit Sovereign Hill.’
For the first time this morning his expression turned animated. ‘Yeah, Tiger mentioned it looked cool on the Net.’
‘Kids love it,’ she said, a small part of her cynical heart softening at his obvious affection for his seven-year-old kid. Though how anyone could name their child Tiger was beyond her. ‘So snap to it.’
His lips curved into a wicked grin and for a second she could see what countless groupies over the years must’ve found appealing.
‘I’ll be much quicker if you come in here and scrub my back?’
Biting back an answering grin, she jabbed a finger in his direction.
‘I’ll scrub you out in a minute if you don’t hop to it. Now go! ‘
She just caught his muttered, ‘With legs like those, can’t blame a guy for trying,’ as he blew her a kiss and shut the door.
Shaking her head, she fished around in her handbag for her mobile, the hairs on the nape of her neck standing to attention as she sensed Luca’s presence before he spoke.
‘You handled him like a pro.’
‘It’s my job,’ she said, her breath catching as she glanced up to see Luca in head-to-toe black: black silk shirt, black trousers, black shoes.
He looked like a corporate raider rather than a corporate financier and she instantly dismissed the briefest yearning for what it would be like for him to make a raid on her.
‘The guy’s a lech.’
‘The guy probably comes on to every woman who enters his sphere every day. I can handle it.’
His blue eyes flashed with amusement as he folded his arms and propped against the side of the bus.
‘So if I step out of line, will I get that professional death glare you gave him?’
‘Nothing surer.’
Finally locating her phone, she scanned her calendar for the umpteenth time this morning, wanting to make sure they were on time at every scheduled stop.
‘By the way, did you get the updated schedule I emailed you?’
He tapped his head. ‘Got it. Memorised it.’
‘Good. Because I don’t want any hold-ups today. We need to get into those music stores, talk up the concert, promo the—’
‘You always this hyper first thing in the morning?’
She didn’t know what stalled her pulse more: his hand resting lightly on her forearm as her thumb tapped manically on her mobile keypad or the curious glint in his eyes, turning them a darker, seductive indigo.
‘Always.’
Shrugging his hand off, she scrolled through the key locations for the morning, her gaze focused on the screen.
For some reason, his laid-back attitude annoyed her. This tour was a big deal and while he probably didn’t give two hoots how it panned out, considering he’d be gone in a fortnight, she expected professionalism.
Liar.
Every thought since he’d opened that hotel door had been one-hundred-per-cent unprofessional.
‘I know what I’m doing, if that’s what you’re worried about.’
Her head snapped up and she glared at him. Another thing that annoyed her: his ability to read her when she hardly knew the guy.
‘You handle big money, so you said last night.’ With a last glance at her phone, she shoved it back in her bag. ‘How about you do your job and I’ll do mine?’
His lips twitched. ‘Sounds like the spiel you just gave old Lightning.’
She couldn’t stop the smile tugging at her mouth. ‘His name’s Storm.’
‘What sort of a lame-assed name is that?’
‘A rock star’s name, a rock star who is going to make your grandfather a lot of money if this tour goes off without a hitch so let’s make sure nothing goes wrong, okay?’
He held his hands up and backed away. ‘Hey, I’m just the money guy. You get to keep old Storm in line.’
‘Lucky me,’ she muttered, her attention captured by a curtain halfway down the bus being yanked open with Storm framed in the window doing a slow strip with his kimono while mouthing words to a song she couldn’t hear, his cocky grin infuriatingly smug.
Luca registered the momentary shock on her face and turned quickly, craning his neck, only to see an empty window where the reprobate rocker had disappeared.
He frowned. ‘I swear, if that old fool steps out of line with you, I’ll—’
‘Refer to my better judgement and skills in handling anything this job throws my way, including rockers hell-bent on clinging to their misspent youth.’
His lips compressed in an unimpressed line and a small part of her melted under his chivalry.
She didn’t need protection but the fact Luca was willing to defend her honour made her like him all the more.
‘Come on, let’s run through the projected figures for the concert while we wait for his lordship to beautify himself.’
‘With that ugly mug, it’ll take him a week at least.’
She laughed and fell into step beside him. ‘We can’t all be like you.’
The minute the words tripped from her tongue she wished she could take them back.
‘Like me?’
Floundering, she blurted, ‘Well dressed. Well put together.’
Little wonder he wore a smug grin. She rolled her eyes. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘Thanks,’ he said, touching her arm, the merest brush of his fingertips eliciting a bolt of electricity that zapped her into a heightened awareness instantly.
They had work to do.
They had a fortnight to make this the best damn tour Landry Records had ever backed.
They had a petulant rock star and his kid to please, fans to woo, crowds to draw in droves.
Yet in that moment all she could think about was how much she’d like to explore this incredibly strong attraction between them.
Gritting her teeth, she picked up the pace, resolving to focus on work.
Work was her life.
Work kept her focused and grounded and confident in a world she’d created, a world filled with certainty and guidelines, the complete opposite of her past.
No way, no how, would she let some guy, no matter how gorgeous and charming, muck up her equilibrium.
She ignored the tiny voice deep inside that whispered, What if he already has?
‘This part of your job description?’
Charli glanced up at Luca from where she was squatting next to a river of water, a flat pan in hand.
‘Whatever it takes to get the job done.’
Luca smiled as she wobbled and almost fell into the water. ‘Dedication, I like that.’
‘It’s not you I’m trying to impress,’ she said, jerking her thumb towards Storm several metres away, squatting next to his son, the two of them engrossed in sifting sand and water through the pans in search of elusive gold.
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