LITMIR.BIZ

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of a while. Maybe that was why he’d felt the irresistible pull of attraction when she’d walked into the bar. He’d been sitting at a table in the corner and almost without will had walked up to stand beside her at the bar. Just to get a closer look at her little hourglass figure. In the shirt and skirt he could see shapely legs and frankly bountiful breasts that had called to the most base of elements in him.

      Then he’d noticed the droop to her lip that she’d been determinedly trying to lift as she’d read that menu. And he’d just had to make her smile.

      The table he’d led her to was in the most isolated corner of the restaurant he could find. He didn’t want her family interrupting any sooner than necessary. Wanted to keep jousting and joking with her. Wanted a whole lot more than that too and needed the time to make it happen.

      ‘So,’ she asked, suddenly perky, ‘what sort of computers? You work for some software giant?’

      ‘I work for myself.’ For the last ten years he’d done nothing much other than work—pulling it together, thinking it through, organising the team and getting it done.

      ‘Programming what—games? Banking software?’

      ‘I work in security.’

      ‘Oh, my.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I bet you’re one of them whiz-kids who broke into the FBI’s files when you were fourteen, or created some nasty virus. Bad-boy hacker now crossed over to the good side or something—am I right?’

      ‘No.’ He chuckled. Truth was the actual programming stuff wasn’t him—he had bona fide computer nerds working for him. He was the ideas guy—who’d thought up a way to make online payments more secure, and now to protect identity. ‘I’ve never been in trouble with the law.’

      ‘Oh. So…’ She paused, clearly trying to think up the next big assault. ‘Business good?’

      ‘You could say that.’ Inwardly he smiled. He now had employees scattered around the world. A truly international operation, but one that he preferred to direct from his inner-city bolt hole in Wellington. But he didn’t want to talk about work—it was all consuming, even keeping his mind racing when he should be asleep. That was why he was on Waiheke, staying at his holiday home a few yards down the beach from the hotel. He was due for some R & R, a little distraction. And the ideal distraction seemed to have stepped right in front of him.

      His banter before hadn’t all been a lie, though. He did believe in going for what he wanted and then moving right on. This little poppet was the perfect pastime for his weekend of unwind time. So he’d made sure she understood the way he played it. Spelt the rules out loud and clear. She’d got them, as he’d intended, and she was tempted. Now he just had to give her that extra little nudge.

      She was studying the menu intently. And he studied her, taken by the stripe of sunburn that disappeared under her shirt. It seemed to be riding along to the crest of her breast and his fingers itched to follow its path.

      When the waiter came she ordered with an almost reckless abandonment and he joined in. He was hungry. He’d splashed up the beach over an hour ago now. He hadn’t been able to be bothered fixing something for himself, figured he’d get a meal to take away from the restaurant. Only now he’d found something better to take back with him.

      ‘Oh, no.’ The look on her face was comical.

      ‘What?’ he asked.

      ‘Some of my family has arrived.’

      ‘It’s time for drinks, then, huh?’ He turned his head in the direction she was staring. Inwardly cursing. Just when she was getting warmed up.

      He saw the tall blonde looking over at them speculatively. When she saw them notice her, she strode over, long legs making short work of the distance.

      ‘Bella. So sorry,’ she clipped. ‘It’s your birthday and you’re here all alone.’

      What? thought Owen. Was he suddenly invisible?

      ‘I can’t believe you didn’t remind us,’ the blonde continued, still ignoring him.

      ‘I didn’t want to say anything.’ For a second he saw the pain in Bella’s eyes. A surge of anger hit him.

      He realised what she’d done. She’d tested them. And they’d failed.

      ‘Don’t worry.’ He spoke up. ‘She’s not alone. It’s just that we wanted to have our own private celebration.’

      The blonde looked at him then, frosty faced. ‘And you are?’

      ‘Owen,’ he answered, as if that explained it all.

      ‘Owen.’ She glanced to Bella and then back to give him the once-over. He watched her coldness thaw to a sugary smile as she checked out his watch and his shoes. He knew she recognised the brands. Yes, darling, he thought, I’m loaded. And it was one thing Bella hadn’t noticed. He found it refreshing.

      ‘It seems you’ve been keeping a few things to yourself lately, Isabella.’

      Owen looked at Bella. There was a plea in her eyes he couldn’t ignore.

      The silence deepened, becoming more awkward as he kept his focus on her. And a tinge of amusement tugged when finally the willowy blonde spoke, sounding disconcerted. ‘I’ll leave you to your meal, then.’

      ‘Thank you,’ Owen answered, not taking his gaze off Bella. He was never normally so rude, but he could do arrogance when necessary. And when he’d seen the hurt in Bella’s eyes he’d known it was necessary. The irrational need to help her, to support her, had bitten him. Stupid. Because Owen wasn’t the sort to do support. Ordinarily he did all he could to avoid any show of interest or involvement other than the purely physical, purely fun. He’d made that mistake before and been pushed too close to commitment as a result. His ex-girlfriend had wanted the ring, the ceremony, the works. He hadn’t. But then she’d tried to force it in a way he totally resented her for. The experience had been so bad he was determined to make damn sure it didn’t happen again. He no longer had relationships. He had flings.

      But now he simply hoped that his brush-off would be reported back to the rest of the family and they’d all stay away for a bit.

      The waiter arrived with the first plates, breaking the moment. Bella was busy picking up her fork, but he could see her struggling to hold back her smile.

      He waited until she’d swallowed her first bite. ‘Am I invited now?’

      ‘If I do, your job is to entertain me, right?’ Her smile was freed. ‘No eyeing up my beautiful cousins.’

      He didn’t need anyone else to eye up. And he’d entertain her all night and then some if she wanted. But he played the tease some more. ‘How beautiful are they?’

      She stared down her majestic nose at him. ‘You just met one of them.’

      ‘Her?’ he asked, putting on surprise. ‘She’s not beautiful.’

      Her expression of disbelief was magic.

      He laughed. ‘She’s not. So she’s tall and blonde. So what? They’re a dime a dozen. I’d far rather spend time with someone interesting.’ He’d done tall and blonde many times over in his past. These days he was searching for something a little different.

      She ignored him. ‘No getting wildly drunk and embarrassing me. That isn’t why you want to go, is it? The free booze?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Then why?’

      The truth slipped out. ‘I want to see you have a really good time. A really, really good time.’

      He did too. And he knew he could give it to her, and how. There was a baseline sizzle between them that was intense and undeniable. He’d seen the recognition, the jolt of awareness in her expression the moment their gazes had first locked. It was what she needed; it was what he needed. And he’d happily

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