Her Deal with the Devil. Nicola Marsh

breath fanned her ear, setting up a ripple effect as every nerve ending from her head to her toes zinged.

      She could feel the heat radiating off him, could smell a delectable combination of crisp designer wool and French aftershave with a spicy undertone.

      Heady. Tempting. Overwhelming.

      Powerless to resist, she tilted her head a fraction, the tip of her nose within grazing distance of his neck.

      And she breathed. Infusing her senses with him. Closed her eyes. Imagined for one infinitesimal moment what it would be like to close the gap between them and nuzzle his neck.

      She had no idea how long they hovered a hair’s breadth apart, the inch between their bodies vibrating with an undeniable energy.

      ‘Hey, Saph, you out the back?’

      She jumped, snagged her sneaker on a rock and stumbled. His hands shot out to grab her, anchoring her.

      She should have been grateful. Instead, with his burning gaze fixed on her, a host of unasked questions she had no hope of answering flickering in the grey depths, she felt embarrassment burn her cheeks.

      Patrick Fourde was the master of seduction. Always had been. It came as naturally to him as waking up in the morning. So why the heck was she responding to him on a level that defied explanation?

      She couldn’t be attracted to him.

      Her business depended on it.

      Besides, she didn’t like him. She’d never liked him. He’d been a major pain in the ass during high school and by the way he’d breezed in here, determined to rile her, it looked as if nothing had changed.

      For there was nothing surer—his turning up here today, twenty-four hours before their scheduled meeting, was nothing better than a ploy to unnerve her.

      She might need his business, but working alongside him wouldn’t be easy.

      ‘Thanks,’ she muttered, brushing off his hold in time to see Ruby propped in the doorway, a delighted grin matching the astute glint in her eyes.

      ‘I didn’t know you had company.’ Ruby winked at Patrick. ‘And such fine company at that.’

      Debatable.

      ‘Looking good, Rubes.’ Patrick saluted her sister. ‘Marriage suits you.’

      ‘Thanks.’ Ruby’s assessing gaze swept over Patrick, and by her growing grin she approved of what she saw. ‘Could say the same about you and Europe.’

      ‘Paris is okay, but Melbourne can hold its own.’ For some inexplicable reason he glanced her way. ‘This city is filled with beauty.’

      To her annoyance, Sapphie’s blush intensified as Ruby stifled a guffaw.

      ‘You’re full of it,’ Sapphie muttered under her breath. In response, he snatched her hand and lifted it to his lips before she could react.

      ‘Maybe so, but you missed me anyway.’

      He kissed the back of her hand—a soft, butterfly brush of his lips that almost made her sigh. Almost.

      ‘In your dreams.’

      ‘Count on it,’ he whispered, squeezing her hand before releasing it. ‘See you tomorrow.’

      Damn the man for doing it to her again. Deliberately taunting, trying to make her flustered—and succeeding. Her stupid hand still tingled where he’d kissed it. That whole in-her-face practised French charm…? Yet another of his tricks to tease her. What she couldn’t understand was why. Was he trying to get her off-guard before their meeting tomorrow? Trying to disarm her and make her stuff up?

      Whatever the answer, she mulled over it while watching one very fine ass as he farewelled Ruby and disappeared into Seaborns on his way out.

      Ideally, she would have returned to her relaxation stretches to banish the disturbing sensations Patrick had elicited.

      How many times had she done her best to ignore him in Biology, when her recalcitrant lab partner doodled rather than rote-learn the nerves in the human body, would deliberately distract her with stupid jokes, poke fun at everything from her ruled margins to her neat handwriting.

      It made what had happened on graduation night all the more annoying, because it had been him she’d let her guard down around, him who’d been there to offer comfort, him who’d made her tingle all over just like the stupid buzz still zapping the skin on the back of her hand.

      To add to her discomfort she now had to face a rampantly curious Ruby, who waited until he’d left before bounding towards her.

      ‘Jeez. How seriously hot is Patrick now?’

      Sapphie refrained from answering on the grounds that she might incriminate herself.

      ‘I mean he was always hot, with that whole bad boy thing he had going on at school, but now?’ Ruby fanned her face. ‘He’s a babe and he’s totally into you.’

      Sapphie shook her head and stuffed her hand into her pocket. ‘You know better than that. The guy flirts all the time. It’s his thing.’

      Ruby shifted her weight from side to side, bouncing on the balls of her feet. ‘Well, his thing is making you glow.’

      ‘Bull.’

      Ruby grabbed her arm and dragged her to a window. ‘Go ahead. Look.’

      Blowing out an exasperated breath, Sapphie glanced at the glass. Even through a film of dust and rain spots she could see pink cheeks and wide eyes. But it was the expression in those eyes, the glazed confusion of a thoroughly bamboozled woman, that sent her hopes of forgetting the past spiralling on a downward trajectory.

      She might despise Patrick and all he stood for, but he appealed to her on some visceral level she had no hope of explaining.

      It hadn’t made sense back then and it sure as hell didn’t make sense a decade later that the guy she could quite happily have strangled had something that made her want to explore beneath his flaky surface.

      ‘Been a while since I’ve seen you look like this. A long while.’ Ruby slung an arm across her shoulders and led her inside. ‘Suits you.’

      ‘I was doing a few yoga poses outside. That glow…? Must’ve caught too much sun.’

      Ruby laughed and hugged her. ‘You’re cute when you’re in denial.’

      ‘Nothing to deny. Patrick and I will soon be colleagues, hopefully.’

      If she hadn’t botched it. First impressions counted in her business and considering he was CEO of Fourde Fashion’s new Aussie branch, she’d hazard a guess they counted with him too.

      Having him discover her in the tree pose, followed by the verbal sparring they’d always been unable to resist, didn’t bode well.

      At least she hadn’t called him any nasty names—something she vaguely recalled doing just before their final exams, when he’d particularly annoyed her with his goofing off.

      ‘Just colleagues, huh?’ Ruby bustled into the tiny makeshift kitchen at the back of the showroom and flicked on the kettle. ‘Wonder if he’ll greet you with a kiss on the hand every day you work together?’

      Sapphie’s heart splatted at the thought. ‘It’s a French thing. Means nothing.’

      ‘Hmm…’ Ruby popped peppermint teabags into two mugs and propped herself against the bench as she waited for the kettle to boil. ‘Wonder if that “thing” extends to French kissing?’

      The nibble of a double-coated Tim Tam stuck in Sapphie’s throat and she choked, coughing and spluttering, while Ruby poured boiling water into the mugs and grinned.

      After a few thumps on her chest, which cleared her throat but did little for her pounding heart