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‘Then you might like this.’ Another glass was set alongside the first. Pale wine, just the sight of it a balm on her still-screaming taste buds.

He pulled up a chair and sat down beside her, back a little, away from the others. Dressed in black jeans and a black shirt. She could see his forearms. Lightly tanned. Muscular. Capable. He gave her a barely there grin. His face had intensity all over it—accentuated by the shadow on his jaw.

‘Thank you.’ She lifted the water and took a deep sip, needing it more than ever.

He watched. Before she could put the glass back on the table he took it from her. Eyes not breaking their hold, he lifted it to his sensuous, sensitive mouth and drank deeply.

‘You mind sharing?’ he asked belatedly.

Sienna snaked in some air. ‘Not at all.’

Julia’s eyebrows had disappeared under her fringe. Brooke was hammily fanning herself.

Tim dropped forward on his seat, clunking the legs down. ‘Glad you could finally join us, Rhys. Let me introduce you. Julia, Brooke, this is Rhys. And I think you met Sienna earlier.’

A look passed between the two men. An even less subtle look passed between Brooke and Julia. Sienna ignored the lot of them, quickly reaching for the wine.

‘Rhys is an old school friend of mine who’s in town for a few days. Thought I’d get him to help us out.’

‘Shouldn’t you be up on that stage singing your little heart out, Tim?’ Rhys interrupted.

Tim smiled a sly smile, picked up his bottle and headed back to the stage where the other band members were already strapping on instruments and quickly checking their pitch.

Julia and Brooke stared after him, then turned back and stared at Rhys, then Sienna.

‘We’re going to dance,’ Brooke declared, grabbing Julia by the hand and leaping to her feet, eyes flashing.

‘Some sound and lighting geek,’ Sienna heard Julia mutter as she passed her.

‘Mmm hmm.’ Sienna bought some time by having another sip of wine.

Julia and Brooke hit the dance floor and headed right up the front, taking Tim’s tambourine from him and starting dancing in a way that more men than just those in the band enjoyed.

Sienna watched them for a moment, loving their enthusiasm. But the strong, silent presence beside her was all she could really focus on. She turned to study him as he quietly regarded her. One thing she did know how to do was talk to people. Or, rather, how to get people to talk to her. She’d been cast in the role of confidante for so many years. The one sitting, while others achieved; she’d be the ear when they needed a rest or reviving. Ironic that she, who couldn’t participate, could motivate and could listen.

‘You in town for long, Rhys?’

‘Just a few days. I’m a builder. From Melbourne.’ He took another drink from their shared water.

OK. Keen to get the basics out. She tried to get him to elaborate a little. ‘A builder?’

His attention was fixed on the band. ‘Sure.’

‘You don’t look like a builder.’

He glanced at her then. Wry amusement in his face. ‘I didn’t think I’d need my tool belt tonight.’

She grinned and gave up on the small talk. He clearly wasn’t one to waste words. And the most she was conscious of was her Goliath-sized awareness of him—it didn’t leave much room for conversational effort.

Surprisingly he took on the task. ‘What about you? What do you do?’

‘Not much at the moment.’

‘On holiday?’

She nodded.

‘From where?’

‘Life in general.’ She laughed at her own pretension. Expanded so he wouldn’t think she was an idiot. ‘I’m in Sydney for a week before embarking on my big adventure.’

‘Your OE?’

The great Overseas Experience. Obligatory for most Kiwis in their early twenties. Maybe it was something to do with being stuck in a tiny country on the edge of the earth. For a year or two or more they’d pack their packs and traipse around the world. She nodded. It had taken her a little longer to get organised, but finally she was on her way.

‘Europe?’

‘South America initially.’ There were a couple of things on her life’s must-do list that she wanted to finally cross off. Peru was right up there.

‘So where is home?’

She shrugged. ‘I’m not sure yet.’ It wasn’t where she’d come from. She loved it. She loved the people but she needed space to set her life in its new direction. ‘What about you?’

‘I’ve a couple of weeks off. Just spending it hanging out in Sydney.’

‘Catching up with old friends?’

‘Right now I’m more interested in making new ones.’

Silence fell again. His eyes held hers as he took another sip—this time of her wine. She wished he wouldn’t. She really did because all she then saw was that beautiful mouth with its perfect cupid bow. Since when did she feel jealous of a glass? But how would it feel to be pressed against his lips, to have his tongue lick her rim?

She felt heat rise in her cheeks. The way she was thinking! And the worst of it was she was certain he knew. Possibly even thinking the same. Because his attention was fixed on her when she took the glass from him and sipped.

He waited until she’d placed her glass back on the table before leaning closer to her, speaking with the world’s most tempting voice.

‘You know what I think, Sienna?’

‘What?’

‘I think you should dance with me.’

A flicker of excitement ran from the nape of her neck all the way down her spine, through her legs and to her toes. She wriggled them in her sandals. ‘OK.’

They stood. Julia and Brooke were somewhere up the front, playing up to Tim’s ‘glam lead singer’ act. Sienna stopped in the middle of the crowd, wanting to disappear into it. Not wanting to feel any more self-conscious than she already was. Fully aware that Tim and the other band members were probably watching. That Brooke and Julia would be giving the thumbs-up behind Rhys’ back. She didn’t want the distraction or the discomfort.

Within three seconds she wouldn’t have cared if there were a film crew beside her broadcasting the action live to twenty million viewers. She’d totally lost awareness of all others, of their surroundings. She lost all sense of everything except Rhys. The thrill rippled through her—her awareness of him almost a tangible entity. They took advantage of the crowd on the floor to stand close. He smiled and she found herself smiling back, just like that. So easy. The music wasn’t too heavy, he moved, she followed. Fingers brushed. She nearly jumped, the electricity practically sparking. She glanced at her hand. Quickly looked to gauge his reaction—had he felt that current? He was watching her face, then looked to her hand. With slow deliberation he reached out and took it in his, his grip firming at her tremble.

If she felt this on edge with just one small touch, how on earth would anything more feel? All she knew was that she wanted that more—with a biting need, almost desperation. Desire both ferocious and foreign.

Neither of them was smiling any more. They moved closer as the floor became more crowded. He didn’t take his eyes off her. Shadows fought with emerald light. His hold on her hand tightened.

‘I know this is really forward. And I know I don’t really know you. And feel free to say no, but…’

‘But what?’

He looked straight into her eyes with a wry turn-up of his mouth. ‘I’m going to kiss you.’

Sienna stopped moving. Stood stock-still in the middle of the dance floor while a hundred others grooved close around her. Her initial reaction was relief—that she hadn’t been dreaming, that the attraction wasn’t all one-sided. The relief soon gave way to electric excitement. She provoked it further, confidence surging through her. ‘Well, that’s good, because I intend to kiss you right back.’

He’d stopped dancing too. Abandoned the pretence of caring about the music. Green eyes, not slate, burned into her. ‘That’s good.’

He stepped nearer. Her body screamed for the touch of his. But it was still out of range—the millimetres feeling like miles. Yet there was almost reluctance between them. A tacit agreement to draw it out, to savour the moment that they’d both been seeking since first seeing each other. She sensed it in him, the deliberate decision to take time to truly appreciate each moment.

Anticipation immobilised her. As much as she wanted to move, it was he who would have to take that final step.

He did. His hand came up, traced her cheek and jaw with a light finger. She quelled the tremor inside. Her lips were tingling. She just had to lick them, had to.

‘No,’ he muttered. ‘Let me.’


Tags: Natalie Anderson Billionaire Romance