Wild Thing. Nicola Marsh

the short space between them and enveloped her in a hug that squeezed the air from her lungs.

      She resisted for a moment, not wanting the physical contact, not wanting anything from him bar this job. But this was Hudson, the guy she’d depended on almost as much as her mum, and if her brain resisted her body had other ideas. His arms were strong around her, crushing her like a steel band, his warmth staving off the chill that had invaded her bones around the time they’d started this conversation.

      Breathless, she finally relaxed into him, and as if sensing her capitulation, he hugged her tighter if that were possible. It should’ve ended there. An apologetic embrace between two old friends who’d been torn apart in the past but now had to work together.

      Instead, she felt the shift between them, the exact moment the hug became something else. His woodsy aftershave, something expensive, probably designer, made her nose tingle. His warmth turned to heat where it pressed against her. His hand splayed in her lower back, grazed the top of her ass. Something semi-hard nudged her hip.

      He pulled away but didn’t release her, as she tilted her head up. ‘I’m not proud of the way I treated you that night and I’ve regretted losing our friendship over it. But I care about you, Mak, I always have, so if you’d let me I’d like to be friends again.’

      He sounded sincere and his eyes blazed with untold emotion, but she couldn’t forget how badly he’d once hurt her. If young Hudson had had the power to do that, the older, sexier version would be a lot more dangerous if she let him get close again.

      ‘We can try,’ she said, sounding flippant, but still caught up in the weird unspoken tension shimmering between them. ‘I’m a professional and I intend on making the most of the opportunity you’ve given me.’

      ‘I wasn’t talking about work and you know it,’ he said, his low voice rippling over her like a caress, making her all too aware she hadn’t pulled out of his arms yet.

      She should. She should establish a clear boundary between them from the outset, but when his burning gaze dropped to her mouth and her nipples hardened in response she knew it would take more than putting space between them to reinforce all they shared was a working relationship.

      She’d always been like this around him, hyperaware, like her body was somehow invisibly, intrinsically attuned to his. He hadn’t known back then; she’d been too good at hiding it. It should’ve dissipated over the years, disappeared completely, but the longer he stared at her with blatant hunger, the harder she found it to remember why she had to maintain distance from him.

      ‘We can try the friendship thing,’ she said, finally willing her legs to move and breaking free of his embrace by backing away a few steps. ‘But I’ll give you a heads-up. I’m not the same naive girl I once was.’

      ‘And I’m not the same narrow-minded jerk I once was.’ His lopsided grin catapulted her back in time to the many times that same smile had made her young, impressionable heart beat faster. ‘Now we’ve established we’ve both grown up, shall we talk business?’

      ‘Absolutely.’ Her emphatic nod sent her hair tumbling over her shoulders and she pushed it back, a simple, innocuous action with complicated results when Hudson’s gaze locked on her hair as if he wanted to bury his face in it.

      Hell. She could do friendship in a pinch but anything more between them would be disastrous. He might not know it but he’d given her a big break professionally in hiring her for this lead dancer role. She couldn’t screw it up. She wouldn’t. No matter how much intrigue spurred her on to see exactly how hot Hudson was beneath that cool facade.

      ‘Tell me about the show,’ she said, sounding fake and upbeat and perky, while she couldn’t ignore the way heat flared inside at the way he stared at her like he’d been given the keys to his favourite ice-cream store.

      He eyeballed her and in that moment she saw he faced the same inner battle she did. Lust versus logic. Curiosity warring with common sense. Desire battling deprivation.

      Crap. She might have just landed a dream job but she had a feeling she’d landed neck-deep in a load of trouble, too.

      ‘Tell me about you first.’ He gestured at a bar stool, indicating she sit. She didn’t want to. She wanted to stand so she could make a run for it if she needed to.

      Because being in Hudson’s arms had resurrected a whole host of feelings she’d long suppressed. She should hate him for how he’d treated her and their friendship. Instead, she’d accepted his apology, even though he hadn’t explained why he’d behaved so appallingly towards her, and agreed to try the friendship thing now.

      Was she insane?

      ‘Not much to tell.’ She perched on the edge of the stool, ready to flee at the slightest sign of awkwardness. ‘I attended uni for a while, doing a bachelor of applied dance in the hope I could teach as well as perform. But I hated the rigidity of classes so lasted less than six months.’

      His eyebrows rose, as if he couldn’t believe she’d even consider a career in teaching. ‘I can’t imagine you being an instructor.’

      She instantly bristled. ‘Why not?’

      ‘Because you’ve always had talent and haven’t you heard the old cliché, those who can do, those who can’t teach?’

      Assuaged by his compliment, she continued. ‘Guess I’m a cliché then, because once I focussed on dancing, I never looked back.’

      ‘The agency sent across the CVs of all applicants auditioning.’ He hesitated. ‘You’ve had tons of experience but no starring roles?’

      Damn him for homing in on her weakness.

      ‘What’s with the twenty questions?’ She sounded snappish and didn’t care.

      He was her boss, she was his employee, that was where it ended. She didn’t need him treating her like a friend catching up for old times’ sake. It blurred lines and she preferred perfectly delineated boundaries. She couldn’t deal with anything else, not now, when seeing him again had resurrected so many feelings, many of them bad.

      ‘Because I want to know what makes you tick these days.’ He reached out and touched her above her heart. ‘In here.’

      It had been nothing more than a fleeting brush of his fingertips against her skin; a barely there touch that shouldn’t have mattered. But it did, because heat flooded her body, most of it ending up in her cheeks.

      ‘I said I’d try the friendship thing. Don’t push it,’ she said, easing him away with her index finger.

      He laughed, the same rich, deep sound she remembered and damned if she didn’t prickle with awareness. Everywhere.

      ‘Friends ask about each other’s interests. They chat. They tease—’

      ‘No teasing.’

      It was one of the things she’d loved most about him back then, his ability to make her laugh.

      ‘You used to love it when I taunted you.’ He leaned forward as if to prove it, invading her personal space, his mouth mere inches from her ear. ‘Just because we haven’t seen each other in years doesn’t mean I’ve forgotten anything.’

      Damn.

      Did he know how she’d felt back then? Was that why he was torturing her now?

      Though it was more than two friends getting reacquainted and she knew it. There was a sexual tension between them, simmering beneath the surface, deliberately ignored but there all the same.

      Not good.

      ‘Then you’ll remember how much I hated you bugging me when I was doing homework and not much has changed.’ She elbowed him away, and he clutched at his side in mock outrage. ‘I’m your employee. I need to focus, not be distracted by...by...you,’ she finished lamely, not wanting to articulate exactly how badly the ever-present attraction between them was making her lose focus and her cool.