“Let me get this straight. You need a wife and think I fit the bill?” Her laughter bordered on hysterical. “I can see why you might think that. After all, we’ve got so much in common.”

He ignored her sarcasm and moved in for the kill, hitting her where she was most vulnerable.

“What about our attraction?” His low, husky voice rekindled the memory of his kisses, his hands and the desire that flowed between them, simmering beneath the surface. “Why not settle for respect, friendship and a sizzling sex life?”

Nicola Marsh says: “As a girl, I dreamed of being a journalist and traveling the world in search of the next big story. Luckily, I have had the opportunity to travel the world but my dream to write has never been far from my mind. When I met my own tall, dark and handsome hero and learned that romance is everything it’s cracked up to be, I finally took the plunge and put pen to paper.

“I live in the south-eastern suburbs of Melbourne with my husband and baby. When I’m not writing, I work as a physiotherapist for a vocational rehabilitation company, helping people with disabilities return to the workforce. I also love sharing fine food and wine with friends and family, going to the movies and—my favourite—curling up in front of the fire with a good book.”

The Wedding Contract is linked to

The Tycoon’s Dating Deal (#3810)

which is available on www.eHarlequin.com

The Wedding Contract
Nicola Marsh

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To Martin, for keeping the romance alive

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

STEVE ROCKWELL didn’t have time for fun. Not unless it suited his purpose and didn’t distract him from more important matters, like making money.

‘Can I help you?’ A hand touched his arm, halting him.

He frowned and stopped mid-stride. The sooner he completed today’s business at the dingy Gold Coast theme park and flew back to Sydney, the better.

‘No, I’m fine.’ His impatience faded as his gaze met an inquisitive pair of hazel eyes, the likes of which he’d never seen before. They weren’t green or brown but an incredible combination of the two, with gold flecks thrown in for good measure.

Not bad, if you liked that sort of thing. Personally, he had a penchant for blue where women were concerned.

He let his gaze slide down the rest of the woman, wondering if the loose, gypsy-like clothes hid any curves. Strange garb, but what did he expect at a carnival?

‘You seem to be lost.’ Her voice was soft, innocent and belied the age-old weariness he glimpsed in her peculiar eyes.

He stared at the hand resting on his sleeve, noting the short nails and callus on the third finger, the antithesis of the women who usually grabbed him with their perfectly manicured talons.

He stepped away, surprised to discover he missed her brief touch. The relentless Queensland heat, which he couldn’t stand, must have melted his brain.

‘I’m here to see Colin Lawrence. Isn’t that his office over there?’ He pointed to a small, ramshackle portable building on the outskirts of the grounds, past the whirling rides, the popcorn stand and the Ferris wheel.

She quirked an eyebrow at him. ‘He’s not in. Can I help instead?’

Despite her sass, he almost laughed aloud at the thought of doing business with this waif dressed in layers of flimsy, floating material.

‘Not unless I need my palm read.’ He noted the sudden defensive posture as she folded her arms. The action outlined her full breasts and he had a sudden desire to discover what other hidden delights lay beneath the layers.

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Oh, I’m sure I’d have no trouble in telling you your fortune.’

So the lady liked to spar? He would have little trouble in accommodating her—after all, it was what he did best. He wasn’t a partner in one of Sydney’s most prestigious law firms for nothing.

‘Go ahead, then, Madam Zelda. Give it your best shot.’ He thrust out his hand, keen to see her reaction.

She ignored his outstretched palm. ‘Not out here. Too public for what I have to say. Why don’t you come into my lair?’

Now, that was the best offer he’d had all day.

He followed her, admiring the gentle swishing of the long skirt around her ankles. She wore sandals, an anklet and a silver toe-ring, and he briefly wondered if they completed her outfit or she favoured that sort of thing all the time. He’d never been a fan of jewellery, especially the bizarre piercings that many women liked these days. In fact, he would hazard a guess that this lady sported a navel-ring to match the one wrapped around her second toe.

‘Do you intend to come in or are you going to stand out there all day, admiring my feet?’ She held open a purple drape and gestured him inside, a cheeky smile tugging at the corners of her lush mouth.

Lord, that mouth. Outlined in a sheer pink gloss, it sent his imagination into overdrive. The midday sun must have addled his brain more than he’d thought. Since when did he ever mix business with pleasure?

He brushed past her and entered the gloom. ‘Who said I was admiring anything?’

‘I see all,’ she said, sitting behind a small table covered in red satin. ‘So, truth time. Show me your palm.’

Feeling utterly ridiculous, and wondering what the hell he was doing in a claustrophobic tent at a run-down theme park, he reached forward and unfurled his fingers.

As soon as she touched him, he knew. This mystery woman had grabbed his attention the first minute he’d laid eyes on her and he would have followed her anywhere to find out more.

‘OK, Miss Know-All. Am I an open book?’

She peered into his palm, turning it from side to side. ‘Mmm…interesting.’

You can say that again.

With her attention focused on his hand, he had free rein to study her just as intently. Her veil had fallen back as she leaned forward, displaying a glorious mass of wild blonde hair which tumbled past her shoulders. She obviously spent a lot of time outdoors, her hair’s sun-streaked highlights shimmered in the candlelight, framing her tanned face. A slight frown marred her forehead as she studied his palm, her mouth pursed in concentration, and he had a sudden urge to smooth away the frown and kiss those pouting lips.

She was a beauty all right. A pity he had to rush back to Sydney, otherwise he might have enjoyed getting to know her a whole lot better.

‘You still haven’t told me anything,’ he said, wishing she would look at him so he could glimpse those startling eyes once again.

As if reading his thoughts, she looked up and fixed him with a piercing stare. ‘You’re impatient, self-assured and used to getting your own way. A real go-getter, who won’t let anyone stop you from reaching your goal, with a liberal dose of arrogance thrown in for good measure.’

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Oh, you’re good. Anything else?’

‘You’re nothing but trouble.’ She pronounced it calmly, though he noted her hand shook before she quickly dropped his.

‘Only when someone stands in my way.’ Despite the fact that she piqued his interest, he glanced at his watch and decided he’d wasted enough time. He stood up, suddenly annoyed that he’d dallied this long. He needed to find Colin Lawrence and get down to business.

‘Tell me something I don’t know. So what do you want with Colin?’ She sat back and folded her arms, as if she had all the time in the world.

He didn’t. ‘I’m here on business. Now, where can I find him?’

She nodded, like the all-seeing sage she pretended to be. ‘I knew it. You’re one of the vultures. Accountant? Lawyer?’ She spat out the last word, as if the profession was poison.

He quirked an eyebrow, admiring her feistiness. ‘You really do have amazing powers. My name’s Steve Rockwell and I’m a lawyer, here on behalf of Water World.’

She clenched her fists, fear flashing in her eyes before she tilted her chin up.

‘Go away. We’ve got nothing to say to you.’

‘We?’ Since when did a pint-sized woman posing as a fortune-teller speak for the business he’d come to close down?

She jumped to her feet. ‘You heard me. My father and I aren’t interested in your business. So go back to where you came from.’

God, she was magnificent when riled, bristling like some fierce tawny cat, her eyes glowing with golden fire. He wouldn’t mind taking a shot at taming her, though she’d just thrown a major spanner in the works. This creature was Colin Lawrence’s daughter and he never mixed business with pleasure.

He shook his head. ‘That’s not possible. Unless the owner of this establishment speaks to me and brokers a deal, this place is finished.’

She walked around the table and stood in front of him. ‘No deal. That monstrosity next door has been trying to buy us out for years and it just won’t happen. Got it?’

‘Water World is one of the largest theme parks around here. Do you really think you stand a chance?’ He towered over her, feeling like a nasty ogre come to wipe out the Lilliputians.

To his amazement, she jabbed her finger into his chest, several times. ‘Now, you listen to me, mister. This place is my father’s life and no one is going to take it away from him, least of all the likes of you. What do I have to do to get it through that thick skull of yours?’

He’d never been impulsive. His whole life had been planned, from the exact minute of his C-section birth, just as his mother wanted it. In fact, every action in his well-ordered life had been planned to the nth degree.

Except what he did next.

Pulling her against him, he claimed her mouth with almost brutal force. She’d stirred him with her spirited retorts and quick wit and he needed to prove a point. Though he forgot what it was the moment his lips touched hers.

She didn’t stand a chance as he kissed her like a man starved, coaxing her lips to open beneath him. She made a soft, whimpering sound before giving in, her mouth allowing his tongue to plunge between her lips, seeking, plundering. He plied her mouth with prolonged skill, nipping her bottom lip, nibbling and suckling till she leaned into him.

His fingers tangled in her hair as he angled her head for better access to the sweetness of her mouth. Like a forbidden delicacy, he tasted and sampled, accepting he would regret it later. Surprisingly, she met him halfway, grasping his shirt and hanging on for dear life as he deepened the kiss to the point of devouring. At her touch, he drew in a breath, knowing he shouldn’t be doing this yet powerless to stop. He’d lost all reason the minute the temptress responded to him.

Suddenly, she pushed away from him, a dawning horror growing in her passion-hazed eyes. ‘What was that all about?’

‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured, drawing back farther. He took in her flushed cheeks, her slightly swollen lips, her ragged breathing, not sorry in the least.

In fact, he wished he could kiss her again, repeatedly, till she lay writhing beneath him, begging for more.

She turned away from him and ran a hand through her tousled hair. ‘I think you should leave.’

He could have sworn her voice shook, and remorse flooded him. What was he doing, going around manhandling the daughter of the man he needed to do business with? He’d never given in to primal urges before. He usually planned his seductions—not that he had any intention of following through with this particular scenario. Ladies sporting toe-rings weren’t his style at all.

He reached towards her, then let his hand drop. Touching her wouldn’t be a good idea at this point of the proceedings. ‘What’s your name?’

She whirled around and he glimpsed the fire return to her eyes. ‘It’s a bit late to exchange pleasantries, don’t you think?’

He deserved that for acting like a first-class jerk. Though he wasn’t big on apologies, he’d better make amends before she ran crying to Daddy and Colin Lawrence came after him with a shotgun. Or, even worse, a lawsuit.

He lowered his head just a fraction, aiming for humble in the hope she would buy it. He’d never acted subservient in his life and it didn’t sit well with him now. ‘I don’t know what came over me. Please accept my apology. You just got me so wound up, I—’

‘Do you kiss everyone who talks back to you?’ she interrupted, crossing her arms.

Once again, his mind drifted into the gutter as he wondered if her breasts would feel as heavy and full as they looked through the gauzy material.

He shrugged, bringing his attention back to her face with difficulty. ‘I’m not used to it. I don’t get disagreed with all that often.’

Sensing the direction of his gaze, she folded her arms tighter and glared. ‘Well, there’s a first time for everything. It’s about time someone took you down a peg or two and I’m just the person to do it.’

He took in her defensive stance, a flicker of appreciation shooting through him. This woman would fight to the death for what she believed in, to protect what was rightfully hers. He admired loyalty, a rare attribute in most of the women he’d had the misfortune to date.

‘Be careful. I just might take you up on that challenge.’ He paused, looking her up and down. ‘And we both know where that might lead.’

She blushed, a faint pink staining her cheeks, highlighting the bewitching colour of her eyes. ‘My father won’t be back till later. I’ll tell him you calle in. And now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.’ She held her head high and strode past him, holding open the tent flap for him to exit with her.

‘You win this time. But I’ll be back.’ He stepped out of the tent, the sunshine momentarily blinding him and he wondered if she’d cast some weird spell on him while he’d been cocooned with her.

She looked up and he could have sworn she winked. ‘I’m sure you will. See you round, hotshot.’

She sashayed away and his body responded before he realised she still hadn’t answered his question. ‘What’s your name?’ he called out.

She stopped for a moment. ‘Amber,’ she flung over her shoulder and continued on her way.

The name suited her. Her hair and skin were a golden bronze that more than lived up to the semi-precious stone she’d probably been named after.

What a woman.

Perhaps this deal would be more complicated than he’d thought? And, just perhaps, he’d need to spend more time on the Gold Coast than first anticipated?

Yeah, it was do-able. Though how he would justify the last half-hour as billable time was beyond him.

Amber stalked across the grounds towards her father’s office, wondering what on earth had possessed her to match wits with the likes of that fancy lawyer.

She’d picked him as soon as he’d entered the carnival, striding through the crowd with his nose stuck ten feet in the air. The designer suit had been a dead give-away too, not to mention the fact that her father had warned her about some big-time lawyer from Sydney coming to pay them a visit.

OK, so he hadn’t been what she’d expected. Old, wrinkly and conservative didn’t come close to describing the high-and-mighty Steve Rockwell. Not by a long shot. Try thirty-ish, lean and drop-dead gorgeous.

Not that she wanted to remember him. Anything he’d had to say and that damn kiss should be pushed to the far recesses of her mind, where they belonged.

So what if he’d made her toes curl? She’d been kissed before. But never like that.

So maybe he had turned up enough heat to melt her on the spot. She could cope. She’d handled worse and come away unscathed. And if he thought for one minute he could undermine her stance on the carnival with a single kiss, he better think again.

She knocked once before barging into her father’s makeshift office. ‘Hi, Dad. Got a minute?’

Colin Lawrence looked up, pleasure etched into his weary face. He pushed his glasses on top of his balding head and leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve always got time for my favourite girl. What’s up?’

‘I just ran into that lawyer you talked about. And he’s spouting a whole lot of trouble.’

Her father’s worried expression made her heart clench. ‘We’ve talked about this, love. There’s no avoiding it. Where is he?’

‘I fobbed him off for now, though he said he’d be back. Isn’t there anything we can do? Get another loan? Re-finance?’ She wanted to stamp her feet and yell at the injustice of it all.

He shook his head, sending her brief, irrational flare of hope plummeting. ‘There’s nothing left. I’ve got no choice. It’s sell out to the big boys or close up.’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses had rested moments before. ‘I’m sorry, darling. There just isn’t any other way.’

Amber walked over to her father, bent down and hugged him. ‘Don’t worry, things will be OK. You’ll see.’ She blinked back the tears that rose at her empty promise.

Things had never been the same since her mother had died when Amber was twelve years old, after a long, expensive battle with cancer. Her father had done everything in his power to keep the carnival afloat, a lasting legacy of happier times, of a business her parents had built from scratch.

Later he’d insisted on paying her university bills, leaving their floundering finances in dire straits. So she had a business degree? Big deal. It couldn’t save the carnival and it only served to increase her guilt at attributing to their monetary woes.

And now her dad would lose the one thing that meant the world to him. She’d be damned if she just stood by and let it happen.

‘Why don’t you meet with this lawyer and see what he has to say?’ The words stuck in her craw but she knew there was no other way.

She’d sensed a softer side beneath the arrogant lawyer’s polished exterior and she hoped that he might have an ounce of decency in his supercilious bones. Anything was worth a shot at this late stage.

Her father nodded. ‘I had every intention of meeting with him. Why did you shoo him away?’

She shrugged, remembering the toe-curling kiss and the feel of his rock-hard chest beneath her hands. She’d needed to get rid of him before she did something even more stupid like take him back to her caravan. ‘Guess he rubbed me up the wrong way.’

Lord, if her dad only knew how she’d really reacted to the sexy lawyer and the exact way he’d rubbed her!

Her dad tweaked her nose, making her feel ten years old. ‘You’re too fiery for your own good, missy.’

She thrust her chin up. ‘No man gets the better of me, Dad. You know that.’

He chuckled. ‘Some day, some man with enough guts is going to come along and give you a mighty big shake-up. Just mark my words.’

‘You’re the only man in my life worth worrying about.’ She squeezed his hand, trying to ignore the image of a cocky lawyer with slate-grey eyes. He did not rate a mention, let alone a passing thought.

Now all she had to do was believe it.

Before leaving the carnival, Steve decided to take a look around. He prided himself on being prepared for every deal he handled, and in this instance he didn’t think that reading a bunch of reports would cut it.

He’d taken on this deal for his boss, Jeff Byrne. Jeff knew the owner of the large theme park next door, Water World, who had called in a favour and requested that Byrne and Associates represent his company in the takeover of an ‘insignificant’ competitor.

So here he was on the Gold Coast, keen to finalise matters and return to his harbour-side apartment, his yacht and his latest conquest, all waiting for him in civilised Sydney. He’d never liked the glitz of the Gold Coast, preferring the class of a large city.

As if on cue, he caught sight of Amber’s gypsy-clad figure in the crowd, reminding him of some of the coast’s hidden attractions. As she stopped to recapture a stray balloon for some children, he watched the way the sun glinted off the blonde mane that hung halfway down her back.

OK, so the Gold Coast wasn’t all bad.

She looked up as he approached her, her expression far from welcoming. ‘What are you still doing here?’

‘Thought I’d take a look around.’

‘Why? Moving in for the kill?’ She thrust her chin up as if daring him to argue.

Though he’d enjoyed their war of words earlier, he decided to cut her some slack. After all, he’d probably feel the same way if someone threatened to take away his livelihood. ‘I’m here to broker a deal. That’s it.’

‘Do you have any idea what this place means to us?’ Her eyes narrowed and she blinked several times, quickly.

He caught the sheen in her eyes. Surely he hadn’t made the firebrand cry?

‘Why don’t you show me?’ Great, he’d gone soft for the second time in his life.

The only other time he’d relented was when one of his exes, Kara Roberts, had come crying on his shoulder about her boyfriend, Matt Byrne, his onetime rival and current associate. Women’s tears left him helpless and uncomfortable, two feelings that didn’t sit well with him. It had been an experience he didn’t care to repeat.

So what was he doing, playing knight-in-shining-armour all over again to a woman he barely knew?

The glimmer of her smile was answer enough.

‘Sure you want the grand tour?’ she asked, her voice still a tad unsteady.

He inclined his head. ‘Lead the way.’

He traipsed after her, listening to the pride in her running commentary as she outlined the carnival’s features. Surprisingly, the operation ran more smoothly than he’d anticipated and the happiness on the employees’ faces seemed genuine enough. So why wasn’t it turning a profit? Did Colin Lawrence have a gambling habit, or some other way of losing money in what appeared like a sound business?

‘Why are you in trouble?’ He’d brokered deals for worse places than this. Maybe something could be salvaged from the operation? And, in the process, stop his enchanting tour guide from staring at him as if he was a bogeyman.

She sighed as her shoulders tensed. ‘We ran up a debt a few years ago and haven’t been able to recover since. Things have gone from bad to worse since the big boys joined the party.’

‘You mean the other theme parks around here?’ He knew of at least three major parks in the area that drew the crowds in droves with their huge marketing campaigns.

She nodded. ‘Though we pride ourselves on old-fashioned quality, it just isn’t enough any more. We can’t afford to give away cars or free trips to our customers. All we can do is provide kids with a carnival experience, like days gone by.’

He glanced around, noting the merry-go-round, with its restored hand-painted horses, the apple bobbing, the food vendors selling candy floss and hot dogs. She was right; he’d never seen a place like this except in the movies. And he’d come to tear it all down.

‘Is there any way of saving it?’

‘We’ve tried everything.’ She turned away from him and he glimpsed a gleam of tears again. ‘What do you care anyway? You’re on their side.’ She gestured to her right, where he could just see a monstrous water slide over the treetops.

He’d been accused of many things in his lifetime, mostly by his opposition on deals they had lost. None of the barbs or insults he’d had to put up with in the past came close to affecting him as much as this woman’s inference that he was here to rip her world apart.

‘I’m not taking sides. I’m just doing my job.’ He spoke the truth, so why did it sound so lame?

She started to walk away and waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. ‘Whatever lets you sleep at night.’

He strode after her, grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him. ‘Look, if there’s anything I can do to help, just let me know.’

What was he doing, co-operating with the little league when he’d come here to play hard ball?

She leaned into him, and for one irrational minute he thought she might kiss him. ‘There is something you can do for me.’

He inhaled, savouring the sandalwood fragrance that drifted up from her nearness. He’d smelled something similar earlier, thinking it was the incense burning in a corner of the tent. Now, her scent wrapped around him like an ancient spell, one he couldn’t resist.

‘What is it?’ He refrained from saying he would do anything for her. In fact, he would walk over hot coals for another taste of her delicious mouth.

She stared directly at him, that already too-familiar fire flashing in her eyes. ‘Get lost.’

In an instant she’d wrenched her arm free of his grip and stalked away, head held high.

He willed her to look back but she didn’t. Too bad. He wanted her to see his smug grin.

If there was one thing he loved more than making money it was a challenge, and the feisty Amber Lawrence had just waved a red cape, leaving him pawing the ground in frustration and ready to charge.

CHAPTER TWO

AMBER believed in karma. If you treated others badly, it would come back to you tenfold. Now, after the way she’d spoken to Steve Rockwell earlier, she had her comeuppance.

‘Are you sure you can’t make the meeting, Dad?’ She tugged at the hem of her skirt, feeling more than a tad self-conscious in the mini cocktail dress.

‘I’m sorry, love. If I go out this headache is sure to turn into a full-blown migraine. Besides, you can handle it. You’re my right-hand woman.’ He winked at her, though it turned into a wince as he lay back on the bed and rubbed his temples.

‘I know, but you’re the one who needs to make the final decision.’ The skirt wouldn’t co-operate and rode halfway up her thighs as soon as she let go. It had been too long since she’d bought any clothes, not that it usually mattered. However, with a meeting this important she wanted to look her best and unfortunately the three-year-old dress had seen better days.

‘Just listen to what he has to say,’ her dad continued. ‘You don’t need to agree on anything immediately. We’ll discuss it in the morning, OK?’

Guilt flooded her as he closed his eyes. Why was she making such a big deal out of a meeting she could handle with one hand tied behind her back?

Because it wasn’t so much the dinner meeting her dad had scheduled that was the problem but the man she had to share the meal with.

‘Besides, Mr Rockwell sounded quite reasonable over the phone. I’m sure you two will get along just fine.’

She leaned down and kissed her dad on the cheek, hoping he was right. ‘Don’t worry about a thing. I’ll let you know how it went in the morning. And don’t forget, ring me if you need me.’

He waved her away. ‘Stop fussing. I just need to sleep.’

As she looked down upon her father’s leather-worn face as he drifted off to sleep, her heart swelled with love. He’d given her the best life possible, nurturing and protecting her throughout the vulnerable teenage years after her mum had passed away. She couldn’t have wished for a better father, and the least she could do was put up with an obnoxious lawyer for one evening.

She tiptoed from the room and wondered where the meeting would take place. She hadn’t eaten out for ages, not since her last date six months ago. There hadn’t been much time for dating lately, with all her attention focused on saving the business. Besides, the local guys just didn’t do it for her.

A loud knock on the door set her nerves jumping. Checking her reflection in the mirror one last time, she wished that she’d done more with her face. She didn’t wear much make-up as a rule, and the lack of cosmetics made her look too young. Tonight she needed a mask of confidence.

She fixed a welcoming smile on her face and opened the door. ‘Hello.’

She couldn’t think of anything else to say, especially when the last words she’d uttered to this guy were ‘get lost’. To make matters worse, he looked amazing, clad in black trousers and a white shirt unbuttoned at the neck. Casual, yet smart, and, combined with his lethal looks, way too dangerous for her.

‘Ready to go?’ His gaze swept her from head to foot and she had a sudden urge to slam the door in his face and dive under a duvet, especially when he focused on her legs.

‘Sure.’ That was one way to impress him, blind him with riveting conversation.

She gnawed at her bottom lip, wishing she could think of something to say, and followed him to the carnival’s entrance, where people queued for the evening’s performance. Unfortunately, the paltry line would barely pay the overheads in staging the horse show. Just another nail in the coffin.

‘I’ve hired a car for a couple of days. It’s this way.’ She watched him stride towards a low-slung convertible, admiring his long legs and tight butt.

He held the passenger door open for her and she slid into the seat, wondering how many other women he’d tried to impress with his gallant behaviour. Somehow, the thought of him wining and dining countless other women didn’t improve her mood. Not that she should care. Tonight was business, and the sooner she believed it, the better.

‘Figures,’ she said, settling into the comfortable leather seat and watching his long legs fold underneath the steering wheel.

‘Pardon?’ He started the car and pulled away from the kerb, his attention focused on the road ahead.

Thank goodness he’d stopped staring at her. She couldn’t stand the way he’d looked at her as she sat down, probably wondering where she’d picked up the ridiculously short dress and why she was wearing it to an important meeting.

‘The car. It fits.’

‘Are you judging me?’ His voice was low, a warning that she trod on uneven ground.

‘So what if I am?’ Where had that come from? She was here to save her dad’s business, not shoot it down in flames.

‘You’ve got a smart mouth for a woman in no position to bait me. I’m supposed to be the bad guy, remember?’

She tossed back her hair, wishing she’d had the sense to wear it up. How would she look by the time they made it to the restaurant after riding in an open-top? So much for appearing professional.

Rather than backing down, she had a strange urge to match wits with him. ‘I’ve never kowtowed to any guy and I’m not about to start now, regardless of who you are.’

‘Trying to pick a fight with me won’t work,’ he said, hitting a button on the CD-player.

In doing so, his fingers grazed her bare leg and she flinched, unprepared for the swift rush of longing for his hand to do a lot more than just brush against her. What was going on? She’d never reacted to a guy like this, especially one whose head would barely pass through an average-sized doorway.

Serene rainforest sounds filled the car, in stark contrast to her simmering mood, and she wondered why an uptight lawyer would listen to music like this. Why did he annoy her so much? All he had to do was open his mouth and she aimed for his throat, wishing she could tear it out with her bare hands.

‘That’s better,’ she murmured, appreciating the soothing music. She meditated daily to a similar track, and its familiarity evoked an instant sense of calm.

‘You like this stuff?’

She glanced across at him, noting the incredulity on his face. ‘Of course. It keeps me centred.’

‘Whatever that means.’

She chuckled. ‘Something you’ll never figure out. Though you’ve surprised me. I thought your musical tastes would run more towards Bach…Mozart…You know, boring classical stuff.’

‘Still judging me, huh?’ He sounded amused rather than annoyed. ‘The CD came with the car. Oh, and in case you’re interested, I happen to prefer pop to classical stuff.’

Somehow, she couldn’t imagine him bopping along to the latest beat and the thought made her smile. ‘I’m not interested. I’m only here to have dinner with you in the hope we can save the carnival.’

‘Speaking of dinner, let me guess. You’re a vegetarian too?’

‘And what’s wrong with that?’ She folded her arms, enjoying their banter yet wishing he would stop pushing her buttons.

‘Nothing. I should’ve asked before booking the restaurant. Sorry.’ Rather than sounding apologetic, he spoke like a man used to having his own way and expecting everyone around him to fit in.

Her theatrical gasp overrode the muted bird sounds filtering from the speakers. ‘Was that an apology? I must be hearing things.’

‘Ha ha. A regular comedienne. Is there any end to your many talents?’

‘You’ll just have to wait and see.’ She averted her gaze from his strong hands splayed across the steering wheel and glanced out of the window in time to see the giant conglomerate that was trying to ruin her father’s business. Though she’d loved water slides as a child, she hated the way Water World had ruined the environment with its plastic monstrosities, rather than blending the park into the bush surrounds. And now they wanted to expand, bulldozing another part of the bush and her father’s business in the process.

She sneaked a peek at the man who had the power to make it all happen. Though it went against the grain, perhaps she should be nice to him rather than antagonise him further?

‘I’m not a vegetarian,’ she ventured, thinking the statement lacked something as a peace offering but not wanting to give in to him too easily. ‘So when do we start discussing the carnival?’

‘I don’t talk business on an empty stomach,’ he said as he drove into Surfers Paradise and handed over the car to be valet-parked. Amber didn’t reply, and as she climbed out of the car she hoped that he didn’t expect her to make polite conversation over dinner. All she wanted to do was get this business completed as quickly as possible without complicating matters.

For that was exactly what would happen if she spent too long in this guy’s company. She’d never met a man like him and he intrigued her, the way he wouldn’t back down. Usually, her forthright manner scared men off, but not this one. He seemed to thrive on it, a fact she liked way too much to be comfortable.

‘Hope you like seafood,’ he said as he guided her into a prominent Gold Coast hotel.

‘I love it,’ she responded, trying not to gawk at the elaborate foyer, with its huge crystal chandelier casting a muted glow over the cream and gold furnishings. Well-dressed patrons strolled through the lobby, some heading to the restaurant.

‘Be careful. Sounds like you might actually enjoy this evening.’ His teasing words did little to reassure her as she compared the elegant styles of the other ladies with her own out-of-date dress. She didn’t belong here, and the sooner she escaped, the better.

‘What’s wrong?’ He laid a hand on her arm and she found his touch strangely comforting.

She glanced down at her dress, feeling like Cinderella without the fairy godmother and twice as ugly as the stepsisters. ‘I don’t fit in.’

He placed his thumb under her chin and tilted her head up. ‘You look beautiful.’ His eyes darkened to pewter and sent her pulse-rate accelerating at a frightening speed. Though she knew she didn’t look it at that moment, she felt like a princess.

Desire skittered across her nerve-endings as his thumb wandered up to lightly brush her bottom lip.

‘In fact, you’re the most stunning woman in this room. Now let’s order.’

They followed the maÎtre d’ to a cosy table for two, shaded from the other diners by strategically placed palms. It overlooked the ocean, and the twinkling lights of the Surfers Paradise strip created the illusion of being suspended in air.

This, combined with his compliment, which had rendered her speechless, meant she could scarcely concentrate on the menu.

‘See anything you fancy?’

She looked up, biting back her first response concerning the man sitting opposite. ‘I’ll have the king prawns, please.’

‘Excellent choice.’ He placed their order with the waiter and handed her one of the delicate flutes that had just been filled. ‘How about champagne to celebrate?’

He must be buttering her up for something, but she couldn’t figure out what. ‘To celebrate?’

He clinked glasses with hers. ‘To the start of a long and prosperous relationship.’

‘For who?’

‘Both of us.’

She almost choked as the effervescent bubbles tingled down her throat. She had no idea how closing down her family business could benefit him, or result in a long relationship, but she had an inkling she was about to find out.

‘Tell me how you’d save the business.’ He sat back and folded his arms, a curious look on his face.

She ignored the flare of hope, knowing his interest was purely speculative. ‘We need more capital to pay off our existing debts. Once they’re cleared, I have a few marketing ideas to boost business. We still have our regulars plus the tourists, and I know I can increase the profits.’

‘What makes you so sure?’

She didn’t let his intense scrutiny unnerve her. ‘I took marketing as part of my business degree. I have a few tricks up my sleeve, but unless we clear the debts we’ll go under.’

‘You’ve got a business degree?’ His eyebrows shot heavenward and his mouth dropped open, just like one of the sideshow clowns at the carnival. A pity she didn’t have any Ping-Pong balls handy to shove into his gaping mouth.

She bristled. ‘With honours. Why, did you think I was just another carnival hick?’

His lips twitched and he avoided her stare, focusing on refolding his linen napkin. ‘I just didn’t pick you to be the type.’

Oh-oh, now he was treading on dangerous ground. She hated being labelled in any way, shape or form.

‘And what type is that? Uptight, stuck-up, pretentious, like you?’

He shrugged, as if her barbs meant little. ‘I’m proud of what I am. At least I don’t have some hang-up over wealth.’

Anger surged through her. Easy for him to judge, when he obviously had money to burn.

‘Not that it’s any of your business, but you wouldn’t know the first thing about making it in this world the hard way. That is, without Daddy’s purse strings to tide you over.’ She barely paused for breath, her bitterness rising with every passing second as she ticked the list off on her fingers. ‘Let me guess. You went to private schools, graduated from university top of the class, had the weekend beach house, played golf with Daddy and dated the princesses hand-picked by Mummy. Correct?’

Her tirade had a strange effect, but he blanked all expression from his face, casually picked up his glass and drank as if she hadn’t spoken.

‘Like I’ve said before, your clairvoyant skills amaze me. You left out the yacht, though.’ His deadly calm unnerved her, though he didn’t look up.

Her anger deflated, gone as quickly as it had come as guilt flooded her. She shouldn’t have pushed him so far. She was here to broker a salvage operation, not blow the whole thing out of the water. ‘Look, you don’t know the first thing about me. I just don’t like being put inside a box.’

‘Then tell me.’ He leaned forward and rested his forearms on the table, drawing her attention to the way his shirt moulded to his biceps. He had a great body for an office-based guy. ‘What makes Amber Lawrence tick?’

She squirmed, uncomfortable beneath his probing gaze. ‘I’m a free spirit. I love Nepalese food, bush-walking and exquisite Mexican jewellery. Not that I own any of the latter yet. And, as you probably noticed, my taste in clothes is far from the usual. There, does that satisfy you?’

Interest flared in his eyes as his gaze swept her body, sending her heart hammering. ‘On the contrary. It arouses my curiosity further.’

She blinked to break the hypnotising eye contact, imagining the many ways she could arouse him and vice versa.

Thankfully, the arrival of their meal put paid to any further interrogation and Amber breathed a sigh of relief. This man had the power to twist her into knots and she had no idea how to untangle herself. The sooner he laid his cards on the table and left her alone, the better.

Once she’d finished the last of her delicious prawns smothered in garlic and chilli, she sat back and patted her stomach. ‘That was fantastic.’

Her action drew his stare to that region of her anatomy like a magnet and she quickly sat up, disconcerted at the heat that unravelled in her belly and spread to lower regions.

‘Can I tempt you with dessert?’ His low, husky voice sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

That depends. Are you offering dessert…or dessert?

By the amused look on his face, she thought for a sudden, horrifying moment that she’d spoken aloud.

‘No, thanks.’ She clasped her hands tightly, wishing the evening would come to an end.

‘Sweet enough, huh?’

She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, wishing her heart would stop pounding. She knew she shouldn’t flirt with him but a little incorrigible voice inside her head wouldn’t accept that. ‘You tell me.’

‘I’d say you’re something like a lemon tart. Looks delicious but with a tang that can set you on edge.’ Unfortunately, he kept staring at her with blatant hunger, as if he had every intention of sampling her and coming back for seconds.

‘Yeah, well, you’ll never get a taste.’

At the speculative gleam in his eyes, she cleared her throat and continued quickly, ‘Thanks for the meal. Now, back to business. I’ve told you my ideas. What do you think?’

He hadn’t discussed much about the proposed takeover at all. In fact, he’d focused far too much attention on her, and not the business they had come here to talk about.

‘Don’t worry. I’ll be over to see your father first thing in the morning.’ He spoke calmly, rationally, but she sensed something more. If she wasn’t mistaken, he sounded like a chauvinistic male who thought deals could only be sealed between men.

She pushed back her chair and stood up so quickly her head spun. She couldn’t believe he’d sidetracked her with good food, fine champagne and diverse conversation. And now, when she needed some concrete information to take home, he was giving her the brush-off.

‘I do have half a brain in my head, so if you decide to do business, let me know. I’ll be waiting outside.’ Resisting the urge to tug down her skirt and spoil her exit, she stalked out of the dining room, head held high.

Steve watched her walk away, the green dress she wore flouncing against her thighs. He couldn’t believe she’d worn a dress that short, especially after the kiss they had shared. What did she think he was, made of stone?

Unfortunately, a certain part of his anatomy had thought so since the minute he laid eyes on her tonight. Her body was every bit as luscious as he’d imagined, and thankfully had been on full display since the disappearance of that ridiculous gypsy-like outfit she’d worn earlier that afternoon.

Admit it, Rockwell. She has you hooked.

Pushing the niggling thought from his head, he paid the bill and followed her outside. She’d wandered towards the beach, where the wind whipped her hair back and plastered the flimsy dress against her shapely legs.

‘Unless you want to get arrested for indecent exposure, I suggest you get in the car,’ he murmured in her ear, catching a tantalising glimpse of cleavage as she whirled around.

‘Stop telling me what to do. And don’t sneak up on me like that.’ She spoke quietly, but he sensed the barely restrained anger beneath her calm exterior.

He offered her an arm. ‘Have I done something to offend you?’

She stared at his arm as if he had some contagious disease. ‘What haven’t you done? You waltz into our lives, ready to close down a family business. Then you bring me out here to supposedly discuss the aforementioned, yet don’t. And as for that kiss…’ She trailed off and looked away.

He took a step closer, bringing him within a foot of her. ‘I’m not going to apologise again for something I don’t regret.’

That got her attention, and her gaze flew to his face. Thankfully, he managed to maintain a cool façade while his gut twisted with desire. If she kept staring at him with those eyes he wouldn’t be responsible for his actions, and this time there would be no stopping him.

‘Let’s go.’ She turned around and stalked towards the car, leaving him with a distinct case of lust that he needed to ignore.

She didn’t speak a word on the trip back to the carnival, pointedly staring out of the passenger window. He sneaked a peek at her, wondering what it was about this strange woman that appealed to him so much. Usually he preferred tall, cool brunettes, not wild blondes with sharp tongues.

She’d surprised him with her business degree. He couldn’t imagine her stalking the corridors of power, though he would bet she’d put anyone who crossed her path back into line, quick smart. And as for her tastes, he should have guessed they would match the rest of her: alternative, exotic, fascinating.

She intrigued him. He wondered how long he could string out this deal with her father. Hopefully at least till he’d sampled the hidden delights of this rare woman.

She practically bolted from the car as he pulled up outside the carnival and shut off the engine.

‘Hey, wait up.’ He strode after her, his long strides eating up the ground, her high heels no match for them. He caught her at the Ferris wheel.

‘Goodnight. See you in the morning.’ Her gaze flickered past him and a huge smile lit up her face. ‘Time to pack it in, Stan?’

Wishing that special smile was for him, he turned and saw a wizened old man doffing a moth-eaten hat that had seen better days. ‘Evenin’, miss. Yeah, it’s about that time.’

Steve looked back at her and raised an eyebrow, angling for an introduction. She got the message. ‘Stan, I’d like you to meet Steve Rockwell.’

Stan thrust out a hand. ‘Pleased to meet ya. Any lad of this young lady is a friend of mine.’

Steve stifled a grin and shook the old guy’s hand, not daring to look at Amber.

‘Oh, he’s not my lad, Stan. He’s just a—’ She bit back what she’d been about to say and he knew why. If the carnival was about to close down, she wouldn’t want the employees to know a lawyer was sniffing around.

He stepped in quickly. ‘An old friend.’

She cast him a grateful look and he pushed home his momentary advantage. ‘I’ve never been for a ride on one of these, you know.’

She frowned as Stan immediately took Steve’s hint. ‘Well, then, sir, hop aboard. Nothing like it in the world when you’re up the top, swaying in the breeze, holding onto your sweetheart’s hand.’ Stan winked as he opened a side-door to one of the chairs.

Steve could have sworn he heard Amber snort as he grabbed her hand and pulled her with him. ‘Come on, sweetheart. It’ll be fun.’

‘Oh, yeah, a real barrel of laughs.’ She tugged free of his hand but followed him in.

He hadn’t lied when he’d said he’d never been on a Ferris wheel before. If he’d known how snug the seats were he’d have taken all his girlfriends for a ride.

With Amber’s thigh pressed against his and her signature scent enveloping him, he knew this was the best idea he’d had in a long time.

‘You could have set the record straight with Stan.’

‘What? And disillusion the old guy? Have a heart.’

She tried to shift away from him, which set the chair swinging. ‘He’s not used to me bringing guys around.’

He slid an arm around her shoulders, surprised yet thankful she didn’t shrug it off. ‘A girl like you should have men falling at her feet. Why don’t you bring any of them home?’

‘They’re not important enough.’

Jealousy stabbed at his gut, swift and sharp, at the thought of Amber with other men. Ludicrous, as he’d known her for less than twenty-four hours. He pushed his luck. ‘Ever been on a ride with any of them before?’

She turned to face him and his heart pounded, a totally irrational response from an organ he controlled with precision when it came to the fairer sex.

‘This is a first.’ Her soft words were whipped away by the wind as the wheel slowed and finally stopped, leaving them perched at the top.

However, he didn’t have time to appreciate the view when a gorgeous woman like Amber stared up at him with a mouth just begging to be kissed.

‘Don’t you just love new experiences?’ he murmured, as he brushed her lips in a feather-light kiss.

A light sigh escaped her lips as they parted. He nibbled her bottom lip before easing his tongue into her mouth, challenging her to match him thrust for thrust. She didn’t disappoint and their tongues duelled, firing his rising passion to new heights. As she returned his kiss all sense fled. He shouldn’t be doing this. She was the daughter of the opposition, she was trouble, she was business. However, as she moaned, all he could think about was the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of her delicious mouth flowering under his.

He cupped one hand behind her neck, drawing her closer, deepening the kiss with possessive thoroughness. She tasted tart and sweet, just as he’d anticipated, and he couldn’t get enough of her. He’d never understood the crazy, head-over-heels physical-attraction thing, preferring to choose his women with calculated precision for what they could do for him rather than acting on lustful impulse. Until now.

Amber’s fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as she arched towards him. God, she was practically offering herself to him, and he couldn’t do much more than kiss her, perched this far off the ground. He would give anything for a bed right about now.

Before he could think, his free hand slid up her bare thigh, as it had itched to do all night, creating a trail of tiny goose-bumps beneath his touch.

‘Whoa!’ She pulled away as his hand almost reached its target.

He stared at her, not moving an inch.

‘I think this belongs to you.’ She grasped his wayward hand and placed it firmly in his lap before tugging her skirt down. ‘Time to go down.’

‘Thought you’d never offer,’ he mumbled, turning away from her and staring at the distant twinkle of city lights illuminating the horizon, wishing for a fickle wind to flip the flimsy skirt she wore. Every time she’d reached for the skirt-edge during the evening he’d wanted to still her hand, hoping it would ride up farther.

She stiffened beside him but didn’t reply. At that moment the wheel started up again and they drifted back down to earth in silence.

She bolted from the chair as soon as Stan raised the bar.

‘Thanks, Stan. It was great.’ He shook the old man’s hand.

‘I’m sure it was, Mr Rockwell. See ya round.’ They grinned like co-conspirators before Steve took off after Amber.

He always seemed to be chasing after her—something he never did with women. Usually they trailed after him, impressed by his wealth and status. So what was it about this woman that had him running around in circles?

She stopped as he grabbed her arm. ‘I’ll see you in the morning?’

‘Not if I can help it.’ She glared at him, gold flecks glinting in the moonlight.

‘It was just a kiss, dammit. Don’t get so wound up.’

‘Who says I’m wound up?’ She backed away from him ever so slightly.

He loved her defiance, etched into every aspect of her body language. ‘You’re tighter than a coiled spring ready to snap.’

‘And you’re a lousy judge of character. Good-night.’ She spun on her heel and stalked away.

He pondered her parting jibe. Contrary to her opinion, one of his greatest skills was reading people and their motives. And he was damn good at it too. Then why hadn’t he figured her out yet?

‘Pleasant dreams,’ he called out, already looking forward to the next day, eager to match wits once again with the enchanting Amber.

She ignored him, a relatively novel experience for his ego.

He chuckled, aiming to change all that, starting first thing in the morning.

CHAPTER THREE

AS SOON as Steve entered his hotel room he noticed the red blinking light on the phone, indicating he had a message. Perhaps it was Amber, giving him another serve before she went to bed?

Surprisingly, it was his mother, urging him to call as soon as possible, regardless of the time. He dialled the number, not in the mood for one of his mother’s famous tirades. What had he done or not done this time?

She answered on the first ring. ‘Darling. Where have you been? I’ve been trying to get hold of you all evening.’

‘Business, Mother. You know, that thing I do for a living?’

He heard a sniff and imagined the disdainful expression on his mother’s well-preserved face. ‘Don’t bait me, darling. You know you don’t have to work. It’s just some perverse streak that pushes you to earn a living when you’re more than comfortable.’

Georgia Rockwell, queen of the understatement. His mother’s version of ‘comfortable’ meant filthy, stinking rich, a fact he’d been only too aware of his entire life. She’d never understood his ambition to be self-made, to spend his hours grappling with complex problems in order to feel some degree of achievement.

No use trying to convince her now, he’d wasted enough breath in the past. ‘What did you want, Mother?’

She sighed, a superficial sound she’d used many times over the years to coerce him into doing something he didn’t want to do. ‘Your grandmother’s condition is progressively worsening. I just thought you should know.’

A strange hollowness filled his heart at the thought of the delicate old woman, who had been the only person to show him any real love growing up, lying helpless in bed, eaten away by cancer.

‘How bad is she?’

‘The doctors only give her another few months at the most.’

Panic gripped him. He’d made a promise to Ethel St John when she’d first been diagnosed and unfortunately had yet to follow through. She’d said it was the one thing sustaining her, the thought of him marrying and bearing an heir for her fortune. That was one thing they particularly shared, a lack of confidence in his society mother, who would squander the money rather than fulfil a dying lady’s wishes.

His mother’s next words made him sit down. ‘She told me, Steven.’

‘Told you what?’ Surely his grandmother hadn’t confided in the daughter she despised?

‘About your promise. So what are you doing about it?’

He proceeded with caution. His mother hadn’t mentioned the money and he found that unusual. If she’d known about the stipulation in Ethel’s will she would have been screaming into the receiver rather than speaking in the cultivated sotto voce he’d grown to hate. ‘What do you mean?’

‘Stop answering my questions with questions. You know perfectly well what I’m talking about. Mother informed me that the only reason she’s fighting this nasty disease is to see you married. Well?’

Her short, clipped tones reminded him of endless criticisms of days gone by. ‘Steven, don’t talk with your mouth full. Don’t run inside. Don’t speak like a commoner. Don’t let me catch you playing with that little tramp from next door…’ It had continued throughout his childhood, a never-ending nightmare.