How To Pleasure A Playboy(10)

"I'm too busy looking after my father and fighting to stay in my own  home." Besides, she couldn't imagine having to introduce a boyfriend to  her father. Her dad would cut any man to shreds, and she'd be caught in  the middle.

"Too busy," he mused. "That's a shame."

She almost asked why, but saw the trap in time. They were still in bed,  and he was still almost naked. The last thing she needed was for him to  start complimenting her again, and make himself any more appealing.

"Not all of us can go through partner after partner," she said instead.  "Or have two at once. That's impressive. At least, it is if you're a fan  of that kind of thing."

"You mean Tina and Ellie?" He chuckled. "A show for the cameras, that's  all. I make sure I'm seen with aspiring models and actresses because the  publicity's good for my clubs."

She narrowed her eyes. "Gee. So you get photographed with different  women every night, and none of it's real? How terrible to have all those  woman fawning over you. Don't tell me you don't enjoy it."

"Believe what you like. It's work, not play. The gossip pages know it  too, but they'd rather print stories about my voracious sex life than  the truth."

"You're telling me your whole life is phoney? It's all for the cameras, just to keep up your playboy image? Every single night?"         

     



 

"It's good for business."

"None of it's real?" she persisted. "You don't date any of them?"

"Not since Michela and I broke up, three years ago."

Lacey closed her eyes for a moment. Bronson Reynes, the most famous  playboy hedonist party-animal in Sydney hadn't been on a real date in  three years? Her brain had officially just exploded. Was nothing she'd  believed about him actually true?

"Three years is a long time," she managed. "And you must have met a  million women since then. I mean, you're out every night. So out of all  those women, you haven't met anyone you liked?"

Wincing, he rolled slowly over onto his back and stared up at the  ceiling. "When Michela and I broke up, it was a difficult time. My  brother had disappeared, and I had no idea where he was. I kept  expecting him to get in touch, and every day he didn't, I got more  worried."

"That must have been tough." She frowned, trying to understand. He  seemed to be saying that his brother's disappearance was the reason he  hadn't dated in three years, but that didn't make sense. What did one  have to do with the other?

"I thought he must have had an accident, or that something terrible had  happened to him. Eventually, the private investigator I hired discovered  he'd boarded a flight to Hawaii. After a few weeks there, he flew to  Thailand. Then the trail went cold." Bronson let out a long, frustrated  sigh, and she could see how difficult the memory was for him. "The worst  thing was how close he and I used to be. I'd never have thought he'd  take off like that, without a word, not even talking to me about it  first."

"I'm sorry," she said. But the words sounded insincere, and it can't  have been easy for him to share that with her. Underneath the covers,  she inched her hand forward until she felt a brush of bare skin. His  arm. She patted it awkwardly, wanting to let him know she wasn't totally  heartless and at the same time wondering if this gesture was going too  far.

He turned his head to look at her. "I thought we had rules." His teasing  tone was back. "Not so much as a pinky, remember?" Before she could  pull away, he'd put his other hand over hers, holding it tight. "But now  it's on my side, so this hand belongs to me. Finders keepers."

She laughed, trying to tug it free. "I'm a rule breaker. Besides, the  bed's mine, I was only lending you a side for the night. Time's up, and  now the Baxter Games are back on. The war's restarting."

"Then this hand is a prisoner of war." He pulled it out from under the  covers, exposing a lot of naked torso and almost stopping her heart in  the process. "And the Baxter Games are brutal, so your hand will be in  for some advanced interrogation techniques."

"Oh yeah?" She squirmed as he tickled her palm. "Hey. Stop that!"

"Wait until we get to the waterboarding." He brought her palm to his  face and pressed his lips to her skin, sending a million volts of pure  lust zapping through her.

Danger. Get out now.

She darted her free hand in to tickle under his arm, and used the momentary distraction to snatch her hand back.

While he laughed, she scrambled out of bed. Standing in safety, with her  baggy pyjamas shielding erect nipples and unwanted dampness from his  gaze, she grabbed her glasses off the beside table and jammed them on.  Then she let out a long breath. Serious Bronson was hard enough to  resist. Playful Bronson? Deadly.

"Okay." It came out sounding breathless. "So just to repeat, the Baxter  Games are officially back on. That means I'm going to tweet, blog, and  otherwise make your life miserable." She mentally shook herself, tucking  stray strands of hair behind her ear. Why was she saying it like she  was apologizing?

"I can hardly wait." He sat up, moving gingerly, and more of the bedclothes fell away.

Holy crap, where did the man get all those muscles? Not to mention the  stylised sun tattooed on his chest. Seriously the sexiest tattoo she'd  ever seen.

Then her gaze moved to the dark red and purple welts over his ribs and she drew in a sharp breath. "That looks painful."

"Nothing serious. But I'll have my doctor stop by today, just in case."

Lacey grabbed some clothes from her closet, determined to push her  sympathy away. "Good. Well, he'd better work a miracle, because I won't  take it easy on you. I'm going for a shower, then your access to my  bedroom is officially withdrawn."

As soon as she walked out of her bedroom, Lacey shivered. The rest of  the house was freezing. And the gaping hole in the floor of her old  bedroom seemed even worse today than it had last night. Dust coated  everything. It had billowed out from the hole and was gritty under her  bare feet. It covered the coffee table, couch, and armchair in the  living room, and had even invaded her kitchen, settling over the small  table where they'd eaten dinner. Thank goodness her father's books were  protected behind plastic. She could taste dust particles in the air, dry  and unpleasant on the back of her throat.         

     



 

Looking around, Lacey couldn't help but smile. With all her heaters,  drapes, couch cover, lamps, and other personal items stashed at  Crystal's, the place had looked depressing enough. But the layer of  grime was the perfect finishing touch.

She took some photos of the hole in the floor and the dust over everything, and tweeted the pictures.

Thursday - Day 2: #PamperedPlayboy took an impromptu tour of the building. Time he coughs up for repairs. #TheBaxterGames

By the time she'd showered and dressed, she'd expected Bronson to be up.  But she found him sitting in bed looking at the pictures on his phone.

"My bedroom's out of bounds now, remember?" She averted her gaze from  his naked torso. The skin that wasn't bruised was golden and smooth.  Looking at him made her itch to play nurse.

"I was waiting for the new clothes I ordered to arrive." Throwing back  the bedclothes, he put his feet on the floor. "But if you want me out,  I'm perfectly comfortable wearing just my-"

"That's okay," she said quickly, taking a step back. "Have the bed. Wait  for clothes. Better idea. I'll go." She swallowed, cursing herself. She  wasn't a teenager, for heaven's sake. So he had the most beautiful body  she'd ever seen. Get over it.

She made herself turn away, and got her coat and gloves out of the closet.

"You're going out?" he asked.

Thank goodness, when she glanced back, he was at least partly under the  bedclothes again. At least now she might be able to form an entire  sentence. "I'll be out all day. But if you leave the building, you  lose."

"White suits you." He nodded at the shirt she was wearing. "You look nice."

Pushing her glasses higher on her nose, she made a grunt that was meant  to be half thanks and half telling him to stop. Complimenting her had to  be a ploy to keep her off balance, and she wasn't going to fall for it.

"You have an office?" he asked.

"I usually work from home, but today I have to visit my father, prepare  for a meeting of our Community Action Group, and go to the library to  work on my next article. The comfortable, warm library," she added.  "With good food and coffee."

"Have fun." He sounded suspiciously cheerful about being left in her empty apartment all day.

"Before you go through the kitchen looking for it, I may as well tell  you there's no coffee or tea here. And no breakfast foods. No bread, or  milk."

"Fine."

Why wasn't he more disappointed? Lacey bent to unplug her heater. "I'm  taking this. And as soon as you get some clothes, the bedroom's off  limits."