Blame It on the Bikini - By Natalie Anderson Page 0,46

a photo of me like this?’

‘Well.’ Mya sniffed. ‘I guess half the city’s women have seen you like this, so, really, it’s nothing that personal, is it?’ She had to remind herself who she was dealing with—and all that this had been.

‘Miaow,’ he said and then reared up on the bed, moving towards her like a tiger on the prowl. ‘Why don’t we make a movie instead? Come here and star in it with me.’

The sight of him on all fours was almost enough to tip her over the edge, but she dug in her heels. ‘You really are a perv.’

‘Come on, back to bed.’ He knelt right up, the most X-rated fantasy Mya had ever seen. ‘It’s early.’

‘And I have work to get to.’ She really had to get out of here.

‘You’re kidding.’

She shook her head.

‘Be late. Call in sick.’

Oh, no, she wasn’t letting him tempt her. It was finished. ‘You know it’s over. The mystery is gone—the wondering of “what’ll we be like”—now we know. Now you can go back to your three-women-a-week lifestyle and I can get on with my studying.’

There was a moment, the briefest of pauses when she wondered what he was going to say. He looked away, hiding his expressive eyes, and he flung back on the bed. ‘It’s only three when I’m on holiday.’ He rested his head on his arm and looked even more like a Greek god reclining.

And all Mya could think was how he’d said there was nothing like starting the day with some good sex. She closed her eyes and forced away the whisper of temptation and the vision of one very aroused Brad. She had a shift to get to. She pulled her crumpled dress back on, hoping it was early enough for her not to get caught doing the walk of shame home.

‘You can borrow some of my clothes if you want,’ he said unhelpfully.

No. That would mean she’d have to see him again to return them, and there was no way that was happening. There was no way she was indulging again. It was going to take long enough to forget how incredible he was as a lover.

She didn’t regret last night. But it had been so good she almost did.

‘I don’t think they’d fit but thanks all the same.’ She turned her back on him so he couldn’t see her mega blush.

There was no reason for them to see each other again after this. He’d had what he’d wanted now and so had she. It was over. Outside work hours she’d be back to nothing but study, and he’d be back to saving kids during the day and romping his way around the city at night. It was one night and it was over.

Four days later her eyes hurt and she was exhausted but two coffees and a sugary doughnut saw her through the first two hours of her shift at the café. She’d already agreed to stay on and do a double shift before going straight to the bar. Desperate to fill every moment of her day. Study wasn’t enough—it was in silence, and in silence her mind wandered. She needed noise and relentless activity.

Sex was sex, right? It was fun and physical, the release was great, and then it was over. Nothing more to it. So why was she so damn fixated on him?

Drew looked up when she finally got to the bar. She was running late from the café, but to her surprise he wasn’t grumpy; in fact he smiled at her as if she were his employee of the week.

‘We have another private function tonight,’ he said. ‘In the VIP room.’

‘We do?’ Another person had hired out part of the place for some outrageous price this close to Christmas? ‘Who’s the client?’

‘Same guy as last time,’ Drew answered. ‘Brad. He specially requested Jonny. Double rates.’

Mya’s insides went solar-hot and her outsides ice-cold, while her heart soared and then dropped in the space of a second. He was supposed to be out of her life—in fact, he was out of her life. He hadn’t contacted her; she hadn’t contacted him … But now he was coming to her place of work but didn’t want to see her? He’d asked for Jonny?

She didn’t know whether to be mad, glad or amused.

‘Trouble is,’ Drew said, ‘Jonny cut himself today. His fingers are all bandaged up and he’ll be off the rest of the week. Are you up to serving the private party?’

‘Do I still