Free Trophy Wives by Jan Colley Page B

succeeded? With your success plan?”
    He decided to let her get away with changing the subject. He was having a good time. Why waste it on Tom McKinlay? “Nearly,” he answered. “A couple of things on the list still to be ticked off.”
    â€œDon’t stop now,” she encouraged him.
    â€œKissing you again is right at the top,” he murmured, holding her gaze.
    He heard the little catch in her throat. She glanced at him then away. And he was amused to see she focused on the couple swallowing tongues for quite awhile this time. Only that’s not all they were doing. The boy’s knee was right between the girl’s legs now and there was some pretty suggestive rubbing going on. Lucy was blushing prettily when she eventually turned back to him.
    â€œBut I think you know that,” he continued in the same teasing tone.
    â€œOh,” was all she had to say, and she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
    The air seemed to crackle in his ears. He could not recall ever being so aware of a woman. This whole night had been one long exercise in self-restraint. Not just his sexual self-restraint, although that was compelling after being pressed up against her for the duration of a rugby game. But keeping it loose had not been easy when he knew she was lying about the slob who’d shoved her. And it would take some time to forget the shame burning in her eyes when faced with completing a simple form. Lucy McKinlay touched him in ways he had not expected.
    She had stopped ravaging the bottle label. It blew in long strips around the rim of their barrel. Instead, the bottle’s neck was being strangled in a white-knuckled fist. Finally she put it down between them with a sharp rap and frowned.
    â€œEthan, you’re a client. I have to keep things on a professional level.”
    Ethan snorted. “Hardly a doctor-patient relationship.”
    She looked heavenward but did raise a smile. “I’m not saying I’m not tempted, but…I’m trying really hard….”
    He waited.
    She sighed heavily, obviously uncomfortable. “Just—nothing’s going to happen between us. Not while you’re a guest at Summerhill.”
    He squinted at her. “I move out of Summerhill and into a hotel, you’ll go out with me?”
    A resigned laugh bubbled up in her throat. “No! Not while Magnus and Juliette are here. Maybe not ever.”
    He shook his head. “Not ever’s a long time, Lucy.”
    â€œI’ve known you two days,” she pointed out reasonably.
    â€œYeah.” Ethan nodded. “Surprised me, too.” He stroked his chin and saw that her eyes followed the movement. “I don’t take enough holidays.”
    â€œAll business?” Her tone was gentle but it sounded like a taunt.
    â€œYou’re the one trying to be professional.”
    She broke eye contact and rubbed her forehead. He swore any professional thoughts were blasted away when she copped an eyeful of the young lovers. The girl was practically riding the guy’s leg—her feet were all but off the ground. They both watched shamelessly. When Lucy finally dragged her eyes back to his, he met and held her gaze for long seconds. Brazen images—bare skin, mouths seeking, frantic touching—danced behind his eyes and were mirrored in hers.
    She swept up the fallen strips of label distractedly and stuffed them down the throat of her empty bottle. “Will you be here when Juliette and I get back?”
    He raised his brows.
    â€œFrom Queenstown,” she explained. “We’ll probably be back Wednesday.”
    â€œI’m trying to set up a meeting in Sydney for the end of the week.”
    Ethan fancied she looked a little downcast. Something compelled him to start negotiating. “Even if I do have to go before you get back, they’re only meetings. And meetings don’t take forever.”
    â€œAnd the flight’s only a few