What the Paparazzi Didn't See. Nicola MarshЧитать онлайн книгу.
watch without making some remark.
How wrong he’d been about Liza.
He’d likened her to his stepmother when he’d first seen her surrounded by lackeys at that party. The two women couldn’t be more different.
Thoughts of Babs had him glancing at his watch and leaping out of bed.
He had a board meeting scheduled for ten this morning. A meeting he couldn’t miss. The future of Qu Publishing depended on it.
While one-night stands weren’t his usual style, Wade knew better than to search for a note or a business card or a scrawled phone number on the hotel notepad.
But that was exactly what he found himself doing as he glanced around the room, hoping for some snippet that indicated Liza wouldn’t mind seeing him again.
He might not be in the market for a relationship but his time in Melbourne would be tension-filled enough without adding frustration to his woes.
He’d been lucky enough to meet an intriguing woman who made his body harden despite the marathon session they’d had. Why not stay in touch, date, whatever, while he was in town?
He might not know how long that would be, or how long it would take to ensure the publishing business that had been in his family for centuries was saved, but having someone like Liza to distract him from the corporate stress would be a bonus.
A quick reconnaissance yielded nothing. No contact details.
Disappointment pierced his hope. By her eagerness and wanton responses he’d assumed she’d had a good time too. And if she wasn’t the one-night-stand type, why didn’t she leave something? A note? A number?
Ironic, for a guy who didn’t trust easily, he’d pinned his hopes on a virtual stranger trusting him enough to leave her contact details?
Then again, she’d trusted him with her body. A stupid thought, considering he wasn’t naïve enough to assume sensational sex equated with anything beyond the heat of the moment.
A glance at the alarm clock beside the bed had him frowning and making a beeline for the bathroom.
He had a boardroom to convince.
Time enough later to use his considerable resources to discover the luscious Liza’s contact details.
* * *
In all the years Shar, Cindy’s caregiver, had stayed over, Liza had never needed to sneak past her ‘the morning after’.
By Shar’s raised eyebrows and smug smile as Liza eased off her sandals and tiptoed across the kitchen, only to be caught out when Shar stepped out of the pantry, the time for sneaking was long past.
Liza had been sprung.
‘Good morning.’ Shar held up a coffee plunger in one hand, a tin of Earl Grey in the other. ‘Which would you prefer?’
‘Actually, I think I’ll hit the shower—’
‘Your usual, then.’ Shar grabbed Liza’s favourite mug and measured leaves into a teapot. ‘Nothing like a cuppa to lubricate the vocal cords first thing in the morning.’
‘My vocal cords are fine.’
Liza cleared her throat anyway, knowing the huskiness came from too much moaning over the hours that Wade had pleasured her. Repeatedly.
Shar grinned. ‘Good. Then you can tell me who put that blush in your cheeks.’
Liza darted a quick glance at Cindy’s door.
‘She’s fine. Still asleep.’
One of the many things Liza loved about Shar was Cindy was the carer’s priority. Liza had seen it instantly when she’d interviewed Shar for the job after her mum had left.
Liza had been a hapless eighteen-year-old, used to looking out for her younger sister but shocked to find herself a full-time carer overnight.
She’d needed help and the cerebral palsy association had come through for her in a big way. Organised respite care, assisted with ongoing physio and occupational therapy and sent part-time carers to help.
Liza had known Shar was the best when Cindy took an instant liking to her and the older woman didn’t patronise either of them.
At that time Liza hadn’t needed a mother—she’d had one and look how that had turned out—she’d needed a friend, and Shar had been all that and more over the years.
Liza couldn’t have attended functions and cultivated her WAG image without Shar’s help and they’d eased into a workable schedule over the years. Liza spent all day with Cindy and Shar came in several evenings a week, more if Liza’s WAG duties had demanded it.
Liza had been lucky, being able to devote so much time to Cindy and support them financially. And when her investment matured today she’d be sure to give Shar a massive wage increase for her dedication, loyalty and friendship. And increase her hours to include days so Liza could find a job in marketing. One that didn’t involve marketing herself in front of the cameras.
‘Sit.’ Shar pointed at the kitchen table, covered in Cindy’s scrapbooking. ‘Start talking.’
‘Damn, you’re bossy,’ Liza said, not surprised to find a few muscles twanging as she slid onto the wooden chair.
She hadn’t had a workout like that in...for ever.
Though labelling what she’d done with Wade a workout seemed rather crass and casual.
The passion they’d shared—the caresses, the strokes, the exploration of each other’s bodies. She’d never been so uninhibited, so curious.
She knew the transient nature of their encounter had a lot to do with her wanton playfulness—easy to be bold with a guy she’d never see again.
So why did that thought leave her cold?
On waking, she’d spent an inordinate amount of time studying his features. The proud, straight nose with a tiny bump near the bridge, the dark stubble peppering his cheeks, the tiny scar near his right temple, the sensuous lips.
Those lips and what they’d done to her...oh boy.
‘On second thought, I need more than a caffeine shot to hear this story.’ Shar stood on tiptoe and grabbed the tin box storing their emergency brownie stash.
While Shar prepared the tea and chocolate fix, Liza wondered if she’d done the right thing in bolting. She had no clue about morning-after etiquette. Should she have left a thank-you note?
When she’d slid out of bed and done her best not to wake him, she’d dressed in record time yet spent another ten minutes dithering over a note. She’d even picked up a pen, only to let it fall from her fingers when she’d stared at the blank hotel paper with fear gripping her heart.
As she’d looked at that paper, she’d been tempted to leave her number. Before reality had set in. Wade hadn’t questioned her or made polite small talk. He hadn’t been interested in anything beyond the obvious. And that was enough of a wake-up call for her to grab her bag and get the hell out of that hotel room.
One-night stands were called that for a reason. That was all they were. One night.
The uncharacteristic yearning to see him again? To have a repeat performance of how incredible he made her feel? Not. Happening.
‘Right, here we go.’ Shar placed a steaming cup of Earl Grey in front of her along with two double-choc-fudge brownies on a side plate. ‘Get that into you, then start talking.’
Liza cupped her hands around the hot cup and lifted it to her lips, inhaling the fragrant bergamot steam. Earl Grey was her comfort drink, guaranteed to make her relax.
She’d drunk two pots of the stuff the morning she’d woken to find her mum gone.
It hadn’t been a