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can’t help helping people—it’s who she is.’ Ben stared at the couple chatting as if he was as enamoured as Ash, although likely in a different way.

      He nodded as he flicked his gaze back to where she conversed with Josh. He could just imagine the kind of help the hipster barman wanted.

      He’d developed quite an insight into Essie’s magnificent, multifaceted personality. She was so different—different from him, a cynical, cut-throat lawyer with a reputation of being just like his ruthless old man; from most people he knew—out for themselves, inward-looking, selfish; and from any other woman of his experience, which was probably why he struggled to put a stop to their sex spree.

      She was too good for him. Too good for her spineless ex and her careless father, too.

      She laughed with Josh, her head tilting towards him in that way that made a person feel she was truly listening.

      Fuck. He would hurt her when this ended. Yes, she’d said what he’d wanted to hear, but his instincts about her had been correct—Essie was a relationship kind of girl. She’d just lost her confidence at the hands of the worthless men in her life.

      Ben loosened his tie. ‘Josh is having boyfriend trouble,’ he said. ‘Essie can’t resist a distress signal.’

      Ash grinned, his head now so light it practically lifted off his shoulders.

      Josh was gay.

      As soon as he’d registered the relief pouring through him, it morphed into something else, something not unlike the itch of head-to-toe poison oak. What place did jealousy have in his orderly, controlled life? What place did any feelings have where Essie was concerned? She wasn’t his—because that was the way he wanted it. Insisted on it. Made crystal clear from the outset. Why, then, did his insistence sound entirely self-directed?

      ‘Hey, can you grab her? I have something I want to say to both of you.’ Ben tilted his head to indicate the cordoned-off stairs leading to the basement dance club, which was quiet for now, but would soon be heaving with partygoers, if their ticket sales were any indication.

      ‘Sure.’

      Ash resumed his way across the bar to Essie, the idea of ending things tonight forming in his mind. Halfway there, she spotted him and he rebelled against the idea with a violent mind spew.

      Whatever she’d been saying to Josh stalled on her lips, which hung a little open as she levelled her wide stare on an approaching Ash. Fire licked his balls. He’d come inside her not two hours ago. And already he wanted her again. She could do that to him with her open smile or her ready, but dirty, laugh. Even her irritating fun facts lent her an irresistible and refreshing air you couldn’t help but adore.

      He skirted around her and bent low from behind to speak in her ear—it was a club after all, the noise levels rendering that perfectly acceptable.

      ‘Ben wants to see us downstairs.’ A satisfying trill of shivers passed down her neck. Oh, yes, she battled the same hunger raging in him. Thank fuck he wasn’t alone. Because that hunger was the only thing keeping him on an even keel.

      Just sex—his rule.

      Just fun—her rule.

      He swallowed the panic and pressed his mouth to her ear. ‘And I want to see you naked and splayed open for me,’ he whispered. That would give her something to ruin those lacy thongs she wore, probably for his torment.

      She tilted her hips and pressed her ass up against his groin, at the same time as leaning forward across the bar to tell Josh she’d talk to him later.

      Not if he had anything to do with it—she’d be too busy coming around the cock she’d just flicked back to life with her sassy stunt. She knew exactly what she was doing, but payback would be fun.

      He put his hand in the small of her back where the dress dipped low and led her downstairs. Her skin burned his palm. Her feminine scent buffeted his senses. And if he slid his hand a couple of inches south he could cup those rounded ass cheeks and ascertain if she’d donned the panties again after the desk session...

      At the last minute, he inwardly bit out a curse and dropped his hand from her skin, seconds before they entered the VIP booth where Ben waited.

      He’d opened the good stuff—Cristal. Three tall contemporary flutes sat on the table next to a small gift-wrapped package. Ash bit the inside of his cheek. He’d thought about giving Essie an opening-night gift, but he’d talked himself out of it, too terrified by the impulse and too worried it would blur the rigid lines he’d demarcated.

      Ben kissed his sister’s cheek and poured the bubbles with a flourish. Ash struggled to share his friend’s enthusiasm. When they were all seated with a glass in hand, Ben raised his for a toast.

      ‘I just wanted to thank you both for all your hard work these last two weeks, and for holding the fort while I was away. We wouldn’t be here, opening night, without you two...so cheers. To The Yard.’

      Ash and Essie joined the salutation, their eyes meeting briefly. Ash saw in her expression what he guessed was mirrored in his own—a flash of guilt. Fuck.

      What with the new and dangerous emotions ensnaring him, and considering the potential mess when this ended for him, for Essie, for his friendship with Ben...he should be a man. End it tonight, on a high.

       We opened the club...what say you we call this quits and part as friends?

      The mouthful of wine soured. He made a fist under the table.

      ‘And, Essie...’ Ben collected the gift and handed it to her ‘...I want you to have this. Thanks for stepping in when I needed you.’ Ben stared, earnest, while Essie looked at him as if he’d just saved her, single-handed, from a burning building. And fuck if Ash didn’t want to see her level that look in his direction, equilibrium be damned.

      ‘As a kid, I always wanted a sibling.’ Ben swallowed, visibly moved. ‘I’m just glad it’s you.’

      She took the package, her lower lip trembling. As she fumbled with the bow and the paper, an unseen force made Ash reach discreetly beneath the table to touch her knee in silent support. This developing bond with her brother fed her soul, healing the cracks her father had created with his callous selfishness. Her old man and that douche of an ex had really done a number on her self-esteem. But Ash had underestimated the depth of her longing to be a part of Ben’s life. To have more of a family. To belong. She deserved those things.

      Ash had grown up surrounded by his family. Until recently he’d worked alongside them, every day. His sisters were still, and always would be, a massive part of his life. What must it have been like to never know when your parent was going to drop by? To wonder if this time, this birthday would be different? To feel unworthy of their time and attention, something that was a fundamental part of the parental role in Ash’s opinion. He knew all about shitty fathers... But at least he’d grown up knowing he’d mattered to both parents.

      He gripped her knee tighter. The next time he saw Frank Newbold...

      Essie flashed him a brief, grateful smile and then she tore through the last of the paper and looked on in wonder. Ash forced his fingers to relax. She wasn’t his business. They were just having fun.

      It was a framed snap of Essie and Ben outside The Yard, their arms around each other and their grins, so alike, wide and beaming.

      Essie’s eyes filled and she threw her arms around her brother’s neck.

      Ash stilled, his breath trapped, a voyeur, an outsider on the growing sibling connection between these two. But he couldn’t look away, or leave. A sick part of him forced himself to see what his selfish, indulgent actions put at risk. The siblings stood for a proper hug. Essie turned her face, which was pressed to Ben’s chest.

      Part of him had genuinely believed their chemistry would have petered out by now. That the insistent itch would have dissipated. But if anything, the need only intensified. Because now he knew Essie. He understood

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