The Boy Toy - Nicola Marsh Page 0,108
important daily.
My boys, who light up my life every single day. Love you always.
Keep reading for an excerpt from Nicola Marsh’s next contemporary romance . . .
THE MAN BAN
Coming soon from Jove!
Harper didn’t believe in karma.
Unlike her best friend, Nishi, the most beautiful bride she’d ever seen, who waxed lyrical at length about how meeting Arun at a Diwali celebration in Melbourne’s South East had been fate, how they’d taken one look at each other and fallen madly in love, how a psychic had predicted this when doing her chart at the time of her birth.
Nishi had been her best friend since high school, so Harper didn’t disillusion the loved-up bride. Her cynicism could easily explain Nishi’s version of “fate”: meeting Arun was random, it was lust at first sight considering they ended up shagging the night they met, and the tall, handsome, rich doctor the psychic predicted was a generic promise given to thousands of hopeful Indian parents after the birth of a daughter.
But Harper had to admit, being maid of honor and witnessing Nishi and Arun exchange vows earlier that day, there’d been something almost magical about the couple who’d been so sure of their love they committed to each other in front of five hundred guests.
Five hundred guests who would hopefully take one look at the food she’d styled and gush on every social media app.
Harper needed work. Food styling may be her passion, but it didn’t pay the bills half as much as her previous career in catering. She needed a big break, and Nishi had assured her that among the throng of five hundred were many online influencers. All it would take was one photo, one perfect pictorial image of her beautiful bondas, precise pakoras or vivid vadas, and she’d be on her way.
As the guests mingled in the outer foyer of the Springvale Town Hall, she cast a final critical eye over the buffet tables. Two trestles lay end to end along an entire wall of the hall, laden with enough food to feed a thousand. The crimson tablecloths were barely visible beneath gold platters piled high with delicious Indian finger food, with squat ivory candles casting an alluring glow over everything.
She’d never styled a job this big and had balked when Nishi first asked. But her bestie had insisted, and it had been her gift to the happy couple. Everything looked perfect, and she blew out a breath, rolling her shoulders to release some of the tension. The edge of her sari slipped, but before she could pull it up, a hand tugged it back into place.
She turned and locked gazes with one of the groomsman. She couldn’t remember his name after being introduced earlier in the day, what felt like a lifetime ago, but she remembered his eyes, a mesmerizing, unique gray that were currently lit with amusement.
“Can’t have you unraveling and distracting the guests,” he said. “Though personally, I wouldn’t mind a little entertainment along with my entree.”
Harper bit back her first retort, that his flirting was wasted on her. She had a firm man ban in place, ensuring the last twelve months had been angst-free, leaving her to focus on her career and not a never-ending parade of dating disasters.
“Sorry to disappoint, but the only entertainment you’ll be getting tonight is from the ten-piece band playing later.”
If he heard the bite in her words, he didn’t show it. Instead, he grinned, and something unfamiliar fluttered deep. That was the only downside to her ban: she missed the sex.
“Too bad.”
His glance flicked over her, a practiced perusal from a guy who probably flirted with anything in a skirt. At six-two, with thick, wavy black hair, sharp cheekbones, broad shoulders that hinted at gym workouts, a killer smile, and those stunning eyes, this guy would be used to women preening under his attention.
When she frowned and didn’t respond, an eyebrow quirked and he thrust out his hand. “We met earlier. Manish Gomes, but my friends call me Manny.”
“Harper Ryland.” She shook his hand and released it quickly. “Don’t you have to go help the groom, Manish?”
He laughed at her sarcastic emphasis. “Arun’s got everything under control. Besides, we’re not exactly best buds. I think the only reason he asked me to be a groomsman was because we pulled two all-nighters in a row around the time he proposed to Nishi and I had biryani leftovers I shared.”
Figured. Manish’s confidence came from saving lives alongside Arun in the ER.
“Nishi’s my best friend.”
Her response sounded judgmental, like she couldn’t figure why Arun would ask some fellow doctor to be part of his wedding party when they obviously weren’t close.
“You work together?”
She shook her head. “High school.”
“Right.”
They lapsed into a silence that bordered on awkward. She may not be the most extroverted at the best of times but she could hold her own in social settings. But something about this guy had her on edge and she didn’t like it. Not his fault he was gorgeous and charming; her latent insecurities made her want to rush to the bathroom and check her hair and makeup.
“Well, if you have any further sari emergencies, you know where to find me,” he said, pointing at the head table set just below the stage. “I’m chivalrous that way, in case you were wondering.”
“I’m not,” she muttered, earning another grin. “Besides, you should be thankful I didn’t slap you for fixing my sari when I didn’t ask for your help.”
His eyebrows arched in surprise at her snark as he held up his hands in apology. “You’re right, my bad. I’ll see you later.”
Harper bit back a sigh as she watched him stride toward the foyer, all long legs and impressive shoulders shifting beneath a perfectly fitted kurta. She’d been envious when Nishi had told her what the guys were wearing; the slim-fitting pants and flowing top combo looked a lot more comfortable than the saris chosen for the women. She’d been in a perpetual state all day for fear of tripping over and causing the unraveling Manish had mentioned. But she had to admit the bridesmaids looked stunning in the cream silk shot through with gold thread, and she’d never felt so glamorous, even if she was one step away from a revealing disaster.
She’d been curt with Manish to the point of rudeness and he hadn’t deserved her brusque treatment. She blamed her nerves. This job meant everything to her, but deep down she knew better.
His perfection rattled her, and a man hadn’t unnerved her in a long time.
Not that it mattered. Once this wedding was done, she’d probably only see him at the occasional function Nishi and Arun hosted: birth of their first child, baptism, that kind of thing. By then, she’d feign forgetfulness of their first meeting.
What Manny thought of her didn’t matter. She had a job to do, and with the revelers soon lining up for the food, that’s where her focus should be.
Bold men with unusual slate eyes should be forgotten.
Photo by Jemm Photography
USA Today bestselling and multi-award-winning author Nicola Marsh loves all things romance. With seventy novels to her name, she still pinches herself that she gets to write for a living in her dream job. A physiotherapist for thirteen years, she now adores writing full-time, raising her two dashing young heroes, sharing fine food with family and friends, cheering her beloved Kangaroos footy team, and curling up on the couch to read a great book. She lives in cosmopolitan Melbourne, Australia.
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