Irresistibly Exotic Men. Laura Iding

      “No.” From the look on his face he obviously didn’t like her answer. “So our next move is …?”

      “I’m going to see Gino’s lawyers.”

      “You mean, we’re going.” She put her cup in the sink, the coffee now a tart taste in her mouth.

      He flexed his back and grimaced but said nothing.

      She scowled. “I’m going to be frank with you, Mr. De Rossi. I am not impressed with you—not by your power or your wealth. I know people like you.”

      His eyes narrowed. “Really.”

      “Yes. Men dedicated to their jobs, their own needs. They think that with one killer smile, anyone can be swayed into changing a decision. They have to be in control twenty-four hours a day.”

      “All that just by looking at me, hey?”

      “I’ve had a lot of practice. And just so you know, don’t even think about trying to charm me. I’m immune.”

      Luke studied her blankly, her stubborn chin tilted up, lips pressed tightly together, hands on hips.

      Classic defensive stance.

      His sudden smile threw her. “So, apart from my job, my looks and my mere presence, you like me, right?”

      A gentle morning breeze took that moment to sweep through the window, curling through the flowers on the windowsill and ruffling her wheat-blond curls. It wrapped around them until Luke wasn’t sure if the perfume came from her or the flowers.

      Either way, she smelled damn good.

      Yeah, hold on there, mate. You need to focus on getting Gino’s stuff out of your life, not be swayed by a pair of wide Bambi eyes. She could make things awkward. You still don’t know what her part is and you need Beth Jones onside.

      Judging by the hostile vibe of her crossed arms and her closed expression, he had his work cut out.

      “Surely there must be one tiny thing you like about me, right? Otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here.”

      She tilted her head with a curious expression. “Why is it so important I like you?”

      “Because then you can start to trust me.”

      “I don’t trust anyone.”

      Luke watched her grab a cloth and wipe the table in swift, jerky movements.

      He could read people pretty well, yet Beth Jones was an enigma. In direct contrast to yesterday, she was armored up in a green shirt and jeans, her hair efficiently pulled back low on her neck. Defensive, yes. Self-sufficient, definitely. Yet he couldn’t quite get a handle on the rest … and loose cannons made him nervous.

      Despite her desperation to get rid of him and the mess she was now in, she hadn’t mentioned cops or lawyers again. He’d expected tears or anger, not this cool, calm logic. She’d even dug in her heels and dared him to prove his story, which meant she was confident with hers.

      His initial hunch was correct—she was hiding something.

      He crossed his arms and tested his theory. “We do this my way or we hand it all over to our lawyers. And I’m pretty sure you won’t like the alternative.”

      She narrowed her eyes, her smile tight. “So I guess we’re about to find out who’s trustworthy, aren’t we?”

       Three

      They got into Luke’s car and set off in silence.

      Instead of thinking about those long fingers changing gears a hairbreadth away, she tried to focus on the things she didn’t like—his arrogant attitude, the way he took control. Those all-seeing, all-knowing eyes. The tension in his shoulders … hard, firm shoulders … That kissable mouth …

      As he changed into third gear, she jumped again, the warmth of his knuckles sending a tingle up her leg. She stole a glance at him. He was looking straight ahead and didn’t appear to be having a problem keeping his hormones in check.

      “So,” he finally said, absently running a finger around his rolled-up shirtsleeve and working the material, bringing Beth’s attention to the tanned forearm underneath. “We’ll make a stop at the real estate agent’s first then head to Brisbane.”

      “What makes you think they’ll tell you anything?”

      “Because I can be very persuasive.”

      Oh, I’m sure you can.

      “So how did you find them?” he asked.

      “They’re local, a few of my clients use them and they had what I was after.” She glanced sideways, taking in his expression. “Look, they’re a legitimate business with an office, a receptionist and a bunch of listings. It’s not like I threw my money at any old bum in the street.”

      “I’ve no doubt their operation is professional,” Luke said.

      “And I have all the right papers, as you saw.”

      “I also saw you have three months left on your lease.” She clamped her mouth shut. She wouldn’t have to suffer his presence much longer. Before day’s end this would all be cleared up.

      She focused back on the road, staring out the window as they moved along Pacific Highway, passing Australia Fair shopping complex before driving over the Nerang River.

      Soon, Aphrodite’s appeared on the left, all towering glass and concave walls. A replica of the Venus de Milo standing proudly atop seemed subdued in the daylight, almost grave in her state of undress. But at night, when all the lights of the casino came on, reflecting on the lake below like a never-ending fireworks display, she glowed with inner beauty. A magnificent spectacle that was still a regular Gold Coast draw twenty years on.

      A familiar line of hotels, shops and restaurants flanked busy Surfers Paradise Boulevard as they crawled along with the rest of the traffic, the pungent smell of exhaust fumes mingling with the familiar saltiness of the Pacific Ocean a few hundred feet away.

      She chanced another glance at Luke—deep in thought—and set her mouth in a grim line.

      “Why are you getting involved in this, anyway? Don’t you have an army of lawyers to do all the legwork?”

      The unspoken mistrust hovered, warm and cloying, until he pulled into a parking space across from Cavill Mall.

      He switched off the engine and turned to face her.

      “For whatever reason, Gino Corelli gave me that house. So—”

      “Wait, what? Gino Corelli? He’s your uncle?” Shock slammed into Beth, choking her breath. She tried to swallow but failed. “The owner of Aphrodite’s? The one who’s just been under investigation from the gaming commission?”

      “Yeah, so?”

      At his confused expression, she slumped back in her seat and stared blankly ahead. “Gino Corelli,” she repeated slowly. “So you’re … he’s … My God! You … you … You were in my home … using my toaster!”

      His black frown loomed like storm-filled clouds. “I thought you knew who I was!”

      “You, yes. Not who your uncle is … was. I …” The words caught in her throat as his expression iced over.

      “The press are wrong. The commission didn’t have enough evidence to bring to the Director of Public Prosecutions,” he returned tightly.

      Beth scrambled out of the car, desperate to dislodge the sour taste in her mouth. What on earth was she in the middle of?

      Luke rounded the hood and came toward her.