The Hotel Magnate's Demand. Jennifer Rae

She’d just landed a highly coveted three-million-dollar PR account, for God’s sake. She was strong and powerful and in control. Strong, powerful women didn’t melt.

      But Amy grabbed the bar anyway—just in case.

      ‘I wasn’t talking to you.’ Her voice came out all breathy and high. Dammit. Amy schooled it into something deeper. Her best PR voice. ‘How have you been, Luke? It’s been for ever!’

      ‘Eight years.’

      Luke didn’t move. Amy had used to love that about him. How he was so still and solid. Big. Brave. Everything she wasn’t.

      At best she remembered herself as being flaky during the months she’d spent working at Weeping Reef as a receptionist for the tropical resort. At worst selfish, self-centred and a right little brat. No wonder Luke wasn’t smiling. She’d always been his little sister’s troublemaking friend. He’d never seen her as anything but that. And she’d always seen him as Willa’s annoyingly controlling big brother. Hot big brother. As in smoking hot.

      And right now, up close, Amy realised that hadn’t changed. Actually, if anything, he was even hotter. He’d always been tall, but now he’d filled out more. His jaw was wider, his shoulders broader. His voice was even deeper. His hair was still thick and dark, but it was clipped a lot shorter than in the old days, when unruly curls had fallen carelessly over his forehead.

      And gone were the board shorts and the resort polo shirts he’d used to wear. Luke stood tall in an expensive-looking suit. Complete with tie. Somehow, even though he looked a little restrained by all the neatness and correctness, it suited him. It definitely suited the grim look on his face.

      Amy lifted her eyes to his. His eyes were still the same. Green. They were like those old mood rings they’d used to peddle in the gift shop. When he was happy they’d turn bright, like the Whitsunday ocean, and when he was angry or upset they’d come over a shade of stormy dark green. She remembered the stormy green. Luke had always seemed to be upset with her over one thing or another. But she’d only ever seen them violently green once. That one time…

      Amy clung to her stomach, willing it not to swoop again. She didn’t want that unwelcome feeling to reach her eyes as it threatened to do each time. She wouldn’t cry. She’d never cry over that. Not again.

      ‘Eight years. Wow. And still looking over our shoulders, ruining all our fun.’ Amy smiled, hoping he’d take her words as she’d meant them—teasingly.

      ‘And by the looks of it you two haven’t changed much either. Still giggling over boys and drinking too many cocktails.’

      Something resembling a smile lifted the corner of his mouth and he flicked his suit jacket back to push his hands into his pockets. He got it. He got her. He always did.

      ‘You just wish we were giggling over you.’ Amy smiled again. She couldn’t help it.

      She’d always liked to tease Luke. She’d always pushed and pushed till the grim look on his face cracked into a smile. It was a game she’d enjoyed playing when she was eighteen and had had her whole life in front of her. Now, at twenty-six, she should be more cautious. She should have learned a few lessons. But it seemed with Luke she was still clueless. Because flirting with him felt good. Still.

      ‘I’m sure you are.’

      He leaned in and Amy caught his scent. The same fresh, oceany goodness that she remembered. His lips brushed her cheek just lightly. As if he was afraid to go near her.

      Amy was grateful. It was important to keep her distance. Especially with Luke. There was no doubt she’d been looking forward to seeing him again. She’d thought about it often since rekindling her friendship with Willa. She’d asked Willa about him a few times. Subtly. Without letting on to her friend how she felt.

      Not that she was sure how she felt. Luke was someone from her past. Her very long ago past. And even then he hadn’t been anything to her…just a crush. And she hadn’t been anything to him. Just his sister’s silly little friend. An idiot who’d needed rescuing.

      Amy clutched at her stomach and turned back to the bar, where Dave was now racking up the drinks. She smiled, she flirted, she paid all her attention to Dave. So much so that she could see him blushing underneath his beard. Her stomach settled. Her heart returned to normal. She wouldn’t think of that night. She wasn’t sure why she kept thinking of it—she’d learned to block it out years ago.

      Maybe it was because Luke was here. And he smelled the same. She still remembered breathing him in as he carried her out to the Jeep and took her to the hospital. She remembered clinging to him shamelessly as he laid her in the back seat.

      ‘Don’t leave me.’

      ‘I’m not. I’m right here. But I have to drive.’

      ‘No!’ The tears from her eyes had met her still wet cheeks. ‘Please. Just hold me.’

      She’d been irrational. She’d known that at the time. But she hadn’t been able to help it. For those three minutes the fact that his arms were around her had been the only thing stopping her from collapsing, and she’d been convinced she’d stop breathing if he let her go.

      He’d reached for her hair, stroked it back off her forehead. Then with one finger he’d traced the cut in her lip. She hadn’t winced. His touch had soothed the pain. She’d clung to his hand.

      ‘No one is going to hurt you again, Amy. I promise you.’

      ‘But…’

      ‘Amy—look at me.’

      That was when she’d seen his eyes so violently green.

      ‘I promise you.’

      She’d believed him. She’d looked into his eyes and into his soul and seen her protector. She’d let him go then and sat silently until they’d reached the resort hospital.

CHAPTER TWO

      ‘I THINK YOU may have sufficiently embarrassed the barman, Lollipop.’

      Amy’s face broke out into an uncontrollable grin and she turned back to where the voice behind her was coming from.

      ‘Don’t call me that.’

      ‘What’s wrong, Lollipop?’ He smiled. The slow, lazy smile that he specialised in. ‘Lost your sense of humour?’

      ‘No…’ Amy grinned. ‘But I have lost my tolerance for your teasing. And if you haven’t noticed…’ Amy put one hand on a hip and pushed it out ‘…I’m not as skinny as I used to be.’

      Yeah, he’d noticed. Luke beat down the heat pumping through his veins. Amy wasn’t the skinny teenager of eight years ago. She’d changed. Filled out. His eyes slipped to her chest. Really filled out. And although he’d always considered her a pretty girl, she’d always been just that—a girl. But she wasn’t a girl any more. She was a woman. And, by the looks of the body she was showing off in a tight white skirt and tan silky blouse, she was all woman.

      But she was still his little sister’s friend. Her silly, irresponsible friend. The girl who was too pretty for her own good. The girl who made an art form out of flirting. And that hadn’t changed. The barman was still flushing and throwing furtive glances Amy’s way.

      ‘Some things have changed, but not everything.’

      He nodded towards the barman and Amy turned to see the direction of his gaze. The barman smiled shyly before fumbling with a glass and allowing it to drop with a loud smash to the ground.

      He leaned in close to Amy’s ear so no one else could hear. ‘Still making men do stupid things.’

      As soon as the words had left his mouth he regretted them. He watched her stiffen. He felt