Nice Girls Finish Last. Natalie Anderson
but she refuses everyone. She almost flirts. You can see it in her eyes, but she never says what she’s thinking,’ Ty explained. ‘Wish she would.’
‘Got nice eyes,’ one of the forwards grunted.
Wicked eyes.
Seth relaxed. He wasn’t up for commitment and he wasn’t going to be party to cheating. But he was more than happy to play.
‘Got nice everything,’ some other player piped up. ‘But no one gets near. Totally untouchable.’
‘Right.’ Seth nodded, breathing deep to hide the outrageous victor’s pleasure coursing through him. He had to stop himself puffing his chest out like some damn cockerel—because Not-Interested-Lena had been more than a little interested in him.
‘You really do fancy her,’ Dion stated quietly.
The entire team stopped laughing and stared at Seth. Suddenly they didn’t look anywhere near as friendly—more like aggressive.
‘Uh, no.’ Testosterone resurged. He’d happily fight his corner, but he needed these guys onside if he was going to get them to help with the youth-aid project, so he went for deflection. ‘Only noticing what you’ve all noticed.’
And now he noticed how the atmosphere had turned from teasing to protective. Which meant they respected her. Which meant she was no tease. Which meant he might have to be careful. He more than fancied her and badly wanted a fling. He’d had a dry spell for all of a month or so and she’d be a much-needed distraction from the construction consent issues he had coming out of his ears. And okay, he was totally hot for her. From the answering heat in her kiss, he knew he could get her to say yes. So long as her no-dating policy wasn’t because she was holding out for a husband. Marriage wasn’t in his deck of cards.
‘She’ll knock you back,’ said Ty. ‘She doesn’t date anyone famous.’
But Seth wasn’t famous in the way these guys were famous. Ten minutes ago she hadn’t recognised him, nor had she knocked him back. In the right mood, Lena Kelly wasn’t untouchable at all.
Dion’s eyes had that delighted gleam that came on when he saw a building he wanted to acquire. ‘I reckon you’d have more luck than most.’ He turned to Ty. ‘Want to make a bet?’
‘No.’ Seth instantly stamped on that. This conversation had gone more than far enough already. ‘Never bet on a woman. Bad karma.’
Dion glanced, his laughter easy. ‘Quite right. And we’ve pushed it enough with Lena today. Imagine what she’d do if she heard us now?’
The entire team cracked up again. The photographer practically bounced with excitement as he snapped off shots.
Dion looked smug. Seth suspected the bet comment had been to provoke his reaction. Ruthless bastard. But Seth smirked, too—it took one to know one.
‘So this is going to be the calendar, huh?’ He knew his change of topic wasn’t going to fool Dion. The captain was watching him as well but he tried anyway. ‘You guys must just love this.’
‘Oh, sure.’
Some of the guys groaned.
‘Need you all back in the shot now,’ the photographer called.
As they lined up his thoughts derailed. The temperature of that kiss had been surreal—like being submerged into a spa after a day on the snow, bringing out goose bumps even though you were burning. Your body couldn’t decide if it was pleasurable or painful—just intense, hellish good. He was hurting for more of the supposedly untouchable Lena. The urge bit to the bone. He liked nothing more than a challenge and a chase. Used to success, he figured there was no reason why he couldn’t get her to agree to both propositions. All he had to do now was find her.
‘Coming through!’
Seth’s body recognised the slightly husky edge to the singsong voice before his brain did. Predatory instincts rose, focus sharpened. He had to turn slightly to the side to force himself to relax. This was a challenge, yes, but not one for public consumption. The guys were cheesing it up for the camera, but he sensed their attention snap to him the second they heard her, too. They wanted to see what was going to happen. Which meant that, right now, nothing was going to happen. Later on? Absolutely everything.
He tried to act nonchalant, but it would be abnormal not to look, so as the heel tapping neared he glanced over. She was hidden by a wall of shirts—holding them up high and out front like a curtain—but he recognised the dress. His body acted as if it had met its dream mate and he gripped hard on his bunching muscles.
‘Thanks, Lena,’ said Dion. ‘Hang them over there for us, will you? They’ll need to shower after this. Don’t want that oil over all the clothes.’
Seth knew Dion had just directed another speculative glance at the rubbish bin where his jacket was now in residence. But he wasn’t going to say a word.
‘Lena, this is Seth Walker,’ Dion added. ‘Seth, this is our ever efficient PR queen, Lena.’
Seth watched for a reaction as she heard his name. While he didn’t expect everyone in the country to know his face, his name was more out there. But she was terribly busy hanging those shirts—still hiding. When she finally turned, her expression was schooled into one hell of a poker face. No wonder the team called her untouchable. He thought she should definitely play some kind of … poker.
He stared blankly for a second before shaking the stripping fantasy free and focusing harder. She wasn’t looking up at him, so he couldn’t see if that gleam was there. Her lipstick was fixed but there was that extra fullness of her mouth. Frustrated desire flooded him and he cursed the presence of an entire rugby squad.
Seth Walker. Of course that was who he was. Lena didn’t need Wikipedia to know all about him. She should have recognised him earlier. She remembered his name from when he sold off some scheme for kazillions to a big corporate conglomerate and she should have recognised his face from the about-town sections of the paper and the women’s mags. The guy was the most wanted accessory of every beautiful socialite in the city scene. In fact the guy owned half the central city—was responsible for all those warehouse conversions into cool apartments and hip restaurants and clubs. He was so driven in his career he made these athletes look like Tuesday-night social-sport amateurs. His projects would always come before his private life.
That lost him a lot of points.
The demerit gave her enough chill to be able to look his way and manage an impersonal, professional smile. But she couldn’t quite meet his eyes and her heart hiccupped when she saw he wasn’t wearing his jacket any more. He must have figured what she’d done to it and got rid of it. She glanced round the room, saw the tip of a sleeve poking out of the corner bin.
Right. She glanced quickly back at him, trying not to melt at the smile and the brilliant blues—and did he just shake his head a fraction?
Yes, from the non-reaction of the guys in the room she knew he hadn’t said anything about what had happened in the corridor. They were unusually quiet right this second, but maybe the photographer had had a diva moment and told them all to behave, because she was certain Seth Walker hadn’t done a brag.
That fact earned him several points back. The way his shirtsleeves clung to his broad shoulders scored him more than a few bonus ticks, as well.
Unasked, her brain continued digging out info. Bachelor of the Decade was the headline that screamed at her. Bachelor for Life if his behaviour ten minutes ago was anything to go by. Without doubt he played the field. Any man who got that close and kissed random women the second he had the chance ought to be given a wide berth.
Ought to be.
But Lena wasn’t feeling as cautious as she should any more. No, she was giddily glad the sexy stranger wasn’t a new starter for the team. He had nothing to do with rugby. He and Dion had to be mates and she guessed he was here to check