The Wedding Contract. Nicola Marsh

to date.

      ‘Be careful. I just might take you up on that challenge.’ He paused, looking her up and down. ‘And we both know where that might lead.’

      She blushed, a faint pink staining her cheeks, highlighting the bewitching colour of her eyes. ‘My father won’t be back till later. I’ll tell him you calle in. And now, if you don’t mind, I have work to do.’ She held her head high and strode past him, holding open the tent flap for him to exit with her.

      ‘You win this time. But I’ll be back.’ He stepped out of the tent, the sunshine momentarily blinding him and he wondered if she’d cast some weird spell on him while he’d been cocooned with her.

      She looked up and he could have sworn she winked. ‘I’m sure you will. See you round, hotshot.’

      She sashayed away and his body responded before he realised she still hadn’t answered his question. ‘What’s your name?’ he called out.

      She stopped for a moment. ‘Amber,’ she flung over her shoulder and continued on her way.

      The name suited her. Her hair and skin were a golden bronze that more than lived up to the semi-precious stone she’d probably been named after.

      What a woman.

      Perhaps this deal would be more complicated than he’d thought? And, just perhaps, he’d need to spend more time on the Gold Coast than first anticipated?

      Yeah, it was do-able. Though how he would justify the last half-hour as billable time was beyond him.

      Amber stalked across the grounds towards her father’s office, wondering what on earth had possessed her to match wits with the likes of that fancy lawyer.

      She’d picked him as soon as he’d entered the carnival, striding through the crowd with his nose stuck ten feet in the air. The designer suit had been a dead give-away too, not to mention the fact that her father had warned her about some big-time lawyer from Sydney coming to pay them a visit.

      OK, so he hadn’t been what she’d expected. Old, wrinkly and conservative didn’t come close to describing the high-and-mighty Steve Rockwell. Not by a long shot. Try thirty-ish, lean and drop-dead gorgeous.

      Not that she wanted to remember him. Anything he’d had to say and that damn kiss should be pushed to the far recesses of her mind, where they belonged.

      So what if he’d made her toes curl? She’d been kissed before. But never like that.

      So maybe he had turned up enough heat to melt her on the spot. She could cope. She’d handled worse and come away unscathed. And if he thought for one minute he could undermine her stance on the carnival with a single kiss, he better think again.

      She knocked once before barging into her father’s makeshift office. ‘Hi, Dad. Got a minute?’

      Colin Lawrence looked up, pleasure etched into his weary face. He pushed his glasses on top of his balding head and leaned back in his chair. ‘I’ve always got time for my favourite girl. What’s up?’

      ‘I just ran into that lawyer you talked about. And he’s spouting a whole lot of trouble.’

      Her father’s worried expression made her heart clench. ‘We’ve talked about this, love. There’s no avoiding it. Where is he?’

      ‘I fobbed him off for now, though he said he’d be back. Isn’t there anything we can do? Get another loan? Re-finance?’ She wanted to stamp her feet and yell at the injustice of it all.

      He shook his head, sending her brief, irrational flare of hope plummeting. ‘There’s nothing left. I’ve got no choice. It’s sell out to the big boys or close up.’ He rubbed the bridge of his nose where his glasses had rested moments before. ‘I’m sorry, darling. There just isn’t any other way.’

      Amber walked over to her father, bent down and hugged him. ‘Don’t worry, things will be OK. You’ll see.’ She blinked back the tears that rose at her empty promise.

      Things had never been the same since her mother had died when Amber was twelve years old, after a long, expensive battle with cancer. Her father had done everything in his power to keep the carnival afloat, a lasting legacy of happier times, of a business her parents had built from scratch.

      Later he’d insisted on paying her university bills, leaving their floundering finances in dire straits. So she had a business degree? Big deal. It couldn’t save the carnival and it only served to increase her guilt at attributing to their monetary woes.

      And now her dad would lose the one thing that meant the world to him. She’d be damned if she just stood by and let it happen.

      ‘Why don’t you meet with this lawyer and see what he has to say?’ The words stuck in her craw but she knew there was no other way.

      She’d sensed a softer side beneath the arrogant lawyer’s polished exterior and she hoped that he might have an ounce of decency in his supercilious bones. Anything was worth a shot at this late stage.

      Her father nodded. ‘I had every intention of meeting with him. Why did you shoo him away?’

      She shrugged, remembering the toe-curling kiss and the feel of his rock-hard chest beneath her hands. She’d needed to get rid of him before she did something even more stupid like take him back to her caravan. ‘Guess he rubbed me up the wrong way.’

      Lord, if her dad only knew how she’d really reacted to the sexy lawyer and the exact way he’d rubbed her!

      Her dad tweaked her nose, making her feel ten years old. ‘You’re too fiery for your own good, missy.’

      She thrust her chin up. ‘No man gets the better of me, Dad. You know that.’

      He chuckled. ‘Some day, some man with enough guts is going to come along and give you a mighty big shake-up. Just mark my words.’

      ‘You’re the only man in my life worth worrying about.’ She squeezed his hand, trying to ignore the image of a cocky lawyer with slate-grey eyes. He did not rate a mention, let alone a passing thought.

      Now all she had to do was believe it.

      Before leaving the carnival, Steve decided to take a look around. He prided himself on being prepared for every deal he handled, and in this instance he didn’t think that reading a bunch of reports would cut it.

      He’d taken on this deal for his boss, Jeff Byrne. Jeff knew the owner of the large theme park next door, Water World, who had called in a favour and requested that Byrne and Associates represent his company in the takeover of an ‘insignificant’ competitor.

      So here he was on the Gold Coast, keen to finalise matters and return to his harbour-side apartment, his yacht and his latest conquest, all waiting for him in civilised Sydney. He’d never liked the glitz of the Gold Coast, preferring the class of a large city.

      As if on cue, he caught sight of Amber’s gypsy-clad figure in the crowd, reminding him of some of the coast’s hidden attractions. As she stopped to recapture a stray balloon for some children, he watched the way the sun glinted off the blonde mane that hung halfway down her back.

      OK, so the Gold Coast wasn’t all bad.

      She looked up as he approached her, her expression far from welcoming. ‘What are you still doing here?’

      ‘Thought I’d take a look around.’

      ‘Why? Moving in for the kill?’ She thrust her chin up as if daring him to argue.

      Though he’d enjoyed their war of words earlier, he decided to cut her some slack. After all, he’d probably feel the same way if someone threatened to take away his livelihood. ‘I’m here to broker a deal. That’s it.’

      ‘Do you have any idea what this place means to us?’ Her eyes narrowed and she blinked several times, quickly.

      He caught the sheen in her eyes. Surely he hadn’t made the firebrand