Free Romance for Cynics by Nicola Marsh Page B

him.
    She was fine firing back sassy barbs with some distance between them, but, with his spicy aftershave enveloping her in a sensual cloud and his body radiating enough heat to make her melt on the spot, she was sure to stuff up this next answer.
    ‘What’s your perfect date, Lucy?’ Raoul made a circular motion with his hand to indicate they had to wind it up and she rushed into her answer.
    ‘Low key. Simple. From the heart,’ she said, instantly regretting her honesty when Cash eased back to look at her face. ‘A picnic with my favourite foods. A mountain top. Intimacy.’
    Cash held her gaze and she couldn’t look away no matter how much she wanted to. The public would lap this up, seeing it as a very private moment between lovers. When in fact Cash was staring at her as if he could see all the way down to her soul. As if he knew this was the first honest thing she’d said all night. And he appreciated it.
    So she added, ‘With a man who makes me want to devour him more than the food.’
    ‘Love it.’ Raoul clapped his hands again, obviously pleased with the results of the interview. ‘Thanks, Lucy and Cash. We wish you all the best in your quest to win GR8 4U Public Relations’ Most Romantic Valentine’s Day Couple.’
    As Raoul beckoned to the camera crew to follow him and find the next poor couple, Lucy slumped into the sofa, belatedly realising Cash still cuddled her close and she’d inadvertently slumped into him.
    ‘You did good,’ he murmured, hugging her.
    ‘Raoul seemed to lap up our lies, that’s the main thing,’ she said, allowing the brief comfort of being warmed by his embrace before standing. ‘I’m beat. Time to go.’
    ‘Not so fast.’ Cash stood and laid a hand on her forearm. ‘You gave some interesting answers.’
    Lucy shrugged, determined to play down how much she’d loved sparring with him and the resultant buzz. ‘You heard what Raoul said. The public lap up that sort of stuff.’
    ‘So you were just giving the public what they wanted to hear, huh?’ Cash’s fingers slid around her wrist and he tried to tug her closer.
    She resisted. ‘Absolutely.’
    ‘So all that talk of insta-lust and whipped cream and devouring me was just you playing the part of a smitten girlfriend?’
    ‘Yep.’ If she nodded any harder her head would fall off.
    ‘Pity.’ He finally released her wrist when she wouldn’t give in. ‘I’m sure I could rustle up some popcorn and chocolate in my pantry. And we could save the whipped cream for—’
    ‘I’m allergic to dairy,’ she blurted, desperate to get away before the heat flushing her body stained her cheeks crimson.
    He laughed. ‘You’re good at fibbing for the cameras, sweetheart, but I can pick when you’re lying a mile off.’
    ‘Bull,’ she said, making the mistake of sneaking a glance at him.
    Cash swooped in for a quick peck on the lips before straightening, his smug expression alerting her to the fact she hadn’t fooled him at all.
    ‘Tonight was a resounding success,’ he said, offering her a hand that she ignored. ‘And the best part? We made out.’
    ‘What are you, twelve?’
    He laughed harder, slipped an arm around her waist and guided her towards the door. ‘I’m looking forward to seeing what you come up with next for the rest of the week.’
    As long as it wasn’t more of that unexpected honesty that had popped out at the end of the interview, Lucy was safe.
    For now.

EIGHT
    One of the perks of Cash’s job was the long lunches, where he took his clients to Melbourne’s top restaurants and spent a leisurely few hours wining and dining and talking figures.
    He thrived on it, taking the fortunes of his famous clientele and making them more money.
    Not today. Today, he was off his game and it made him edgy and crappy and cranky.
    Not good enough, considering the woman sitting opposite him was Australia’s top talk-show host at the moment. Cecilia Boyle was eloquent, intelligent and gorgeous. A tall,