Free The Price of Fame by Anne Oliver Page A

combinations.
    And his initial response to finding her in his garden had been to shoot first, ask questions later. Good God, he’d all but accused her of espionage. He hoped his quick manoeuvre to kiss her instead had distracted her thoughts elsewhere.
    It sure as hell had distracted
him
.
    He folded the paper in half. The perfect excuse to see her again. Not that he needed one. He closed and secured the gates, his thoughts filled with his unexpected visitor. Naturally she’d want her design back. It was only right that he returned it. Tonight was soon enough.
    He went straight to his computer, sat down and studied the screens alive with characters going about their quests in their fantasy world. Tapping the mouse, he got back to work. He had a full day’s adventures to finish before he could turn his thoughts to other pursuits.
    Closing her door safely behind her, Charlotte shut her eyes. Images danced behind her eyelids. Images of losing control.
Hoping desperately that I’d come out and find you
, he’d said. Huh. Like he’d know. Except he did. And she couldn’t fool herself—desperate was exactly how she felt, which was why she’d told him to stay away. The only sensible thing she’d said to him. And the bit about him being bad for her.
    Because she knew his type—he could charm the knickers off a nun with a single tilt of those lips—and that wasn’t the type of man she wanted to get involved with. Nic wasa great—perfect—one-night kind of guy, but that kind wasn’t the sort of man she wanted to share other things with. Like confidences and dreams and hopes and interests. Like building a life and a home together. Like sharing his family to help compensate for the loss of hers.
    Nic was so not that man.
    Crossing the room to gaze over the rooftops, she picked out his palatial two-storey home amongst the trees. ‘Oh, Dad, what would you say about me?’ After her behaviour, she was hardly his princess any more. Her fingers touched the pearls at her neck. Mum would be appalled.
    Nic
Russo …
Turning away from the view, she opened her notebook PC and switched it on. Thirty seconds later she was looking up the name and checking the social-networking sites. But the Nic Russos she found on the Internet didn’t match anyone who created computer games and obviously made millions doing so. Not even a Dominic Russo turned up anything.
    Her fingers clenched over the keyboard. As soon as she’d calmed down, when her mind was less cluttered and she’d thought things through, she’d find Nic Russo or whoever the heck he was and demand more answers.
    If he didn’t find her first.

CHAPTER SIX
    A T FIVE-THIRTY Nic showered and went downstairs, Charlotte’s paper in his shirt pocket. Tenika had ironed him a Fijian shirt—crimson with a white hibiscus print—and laid it on his bed along with a fresh white hibiscus. He knew she expected to see him wearing both.
    She was in the kitchen washing the vegetables he’d seen her pick earlier from his window. These days her wiry close-cropped hair was tinged with silver. The patterned hot-pink blouse over her black
sulu
complemented her dusky complexion; her hands were busy pulling leaves off stems.
    He reached for a banana. ‘How’s your day been?’
    She turned from the sink and smiled, teeth white against her skin. ‘
Bula
, Nic, you want
kakana
already? Eat vegetables today from the garden with fresh fish.’
    ‘
Vinaka
, but don’t cook anything for me this evening.’
    ‘Ah, you have a pretty
marama
waiting for you.’ She looked him up and down and nodded approvingly. ‘
Totoka
. Very handsome. She is lucky. A guest at the resort, Malakai told me.’ Her eyes danced with matchmaking delight.
    Nic had to smile. The pair of them never gave up no matter how often he told them he was more than happy with his bachelor status. ‘Malakai’s jumping to conclusions.’
    She shook her head, put the leaves in a colander and turned on the tap. ‘He doesn’t