‘Me?’ I asked startled.
‘Yes, you. You’re always so sensible.’
‘To be honest I think your eyes are beautiful as they are.’
She looked at me the way I always imagined Cesar looked at Brutus.
‘What?’ I asked, bewildered. It’s not like we were best friends or anything.
‘You don’t want me to be beautiful,’ she screeched suddenly, and ran off in the general direction of the toilets.
I stared after her for a few seconds before I turned around and slammed into a perfectly solid wall of cologne-scented, honest to goodness, male muscles. Strong, wonderfully warm hands curled around my forearms. I looked up. Okay, long tanned brown throat, unshaven jawline …
Oh! My! God!
Amused, bright green eyes fringed by eyelashes that rightly should have belonged to a girl; straight, black, cocked eyebrows; disheveled hair, and a badass smile curved on the sexiest most deliciously full lips. The kind you just wanted sink your teeth into. Oh, and just before I faint, a chin dimple just made a late entrance to the party. This was exactly the kind of man my best friend, Zodie would call, ‘a happening guy.’ Things happen around him.
‘Whoa,’ he said.
How can I describe his voice? Warmed up chocolate sauce poured slowly down my naked back. Swoon, my ass, I fucking shivered.
‘Whoa, yourself,’ I croaked.
He bared his straight white teeth in a grin. It was one of those magic grins that made me want to suck it off his face.
‘Was that my sister I just saw bolting into the toilet for a quick meltdown?’
I swallowed hard. This was so not how I expected to meet Britney’s famous brother. ‘Could be, if you’re the rock star brother.’
Cash Hunter’s green eyes looked like they were on fire. ‘That’s me, babe. Rock star brother.’
‘Now might be a good time to let go of me,’ I croaked.
‘Give me one good reason I should?’ he countered lazily.
My eyebrows flew upwards. ‘My knee’s reckoning on an upwards trajectory?’
Grinning, he let go of me and raised his hand up in surrender. ‘Looks like I caught me a wild cat.’
My legs played up a little as I took a step back.
He watched me ‘Where have you been all my life, Beautiful?’
I gave a fake laugh. ‘Are you deliberately using bad lines to save on contraceptives?’
The leather-clad, powerhouse of sexy goodness threw his head back and laughed. That early in the morning the vodka fumes that hit my nostrils were strong enough to make me dizzy.
‘What’s going to work on you, wild cat? My cock wants to say hello to your pussy?’
‘Breath mints might help,’ I retorted.
‘Damn, you sure know how to suck the juice of out a tender moment.’ He rummaged around in his pocket and popped a mint into his mouth. ‘Now unless you don’t like a long, thick, cock we’re good to go.’
I looked up at him with frosty eyes. ‘Personally I think size is overrated.’
His eyes gleamed. ‘Baby, we’re in luck. There’s a man on the other side of the corridor who can customize my dong into the right shape and size for you.’
‘Hilarious,’ I said unenthusiastically.
‘I bet I can make you call me Daddy,’
‘Thanks, but … ugh no..’
‘Right: change of tack. Not that I’m giving up on getting you into my bed or anything, but want to have dinner with me tonight?’
He was too beautiful to be real.
The door behind us opened.
‘Cash,’ squealed Britney.
Cash winked at me before he turned his attention to the figure flying at him. He caught her as she wrapped her arms and legs around him like a big kid.
‘How did you know where to find me?’ she asked.
‘Isn’t this your second home?’ he asked dryly.
‘Not anymore. Dr. Strong won’t do my eyes,’ she grumbled.
‘Oh yeah. Why not?’
‘He’s says I’ll end up looking like a ridiculous freak.’
‘Hmmm… what did you want done?’
‘I want cat’s eyes.’
Cash’s gorgeous eyes widened. He nodded slowly as she told him about her appointment with Dr. Strong..
‘Well, PooBear. I think cat’s eyes are a great idea.’
Jesus. Madness must run the family.
‘You do,’ Britney asked brightly, her whole face shining with hope.
‘Absolutely. It’s a great look. It’ll make you look like one of those beauties from the fifties and sixties.’
‘What?’ Britney frowned, and climbed off her brother.
‘Yeah, you know like Zsa Zsa Gabor.’
‘Zsa Zsa Gabor. Who’s that?’
‘It’s from Dad’s time,’ he supplied with a wise nod. ‘Oh, and like …er … what was the name of that comedienne who died recently?’ He clicked his fingers and looked at me.