Page 2

Nor did I miss the way the shmuck on the stone bench followed her with his eyes. Or the way those eyes dropped to her shapely ass, with enough appreciation to make my fingers curl with the desire to punch his lights out. It was when he put his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, tottering after her, that my hand really did form a fist.
CHAPTER2
Esme
It was all I could do not to break into a run as I hurried through the French doors, into some sort of sitting room. Polished hardwood flooring, elegant furnishings in soft tones of ecru, beige and taupe. Like walking through a fucking mushroom. Such a far cry from my trailer at Esperance River Trailer Park, just showing me how far out of my depth I was. Now, where was the powder room, again? Was this it? Nope, a very fancy office. This one? Also no. A theatre room, the screen of which was bigger than the entire wall of my living room. Oh, thank fuck. The open door revealed a cream tiled room and sleek mahogany cabinetry. Yep, it was bigger than my bedroom. And much, much fancier.
Dumping my duffel bag on the counter, I unzipped the Elsa dress and tried to stop more angry, bitter tears from falling. Although I took a self-indulgent moment to wish I was more like my best friend, Stef. She would have laid that woman flat with just a look. Maybe I could hire her as my bodyguard, because God knows, I felt like I needed one right at that moment.
That thought only solidified further when, with one foot in my leggings, there was a rattling at the powder room door. Oh god, not that bitch back again? There was a good chance I’d never work in this town again, if she had her way. All because I’d insisted that I couldn’t stay an extra hour or two and keep her nasty little girl entertained. “Just a minute,” I called out, nearly tripping over in my haste to pull my leggings up. I’d just grabbed my t-shirt when the door handle gave way and with a gasp, I held it close over my chest.
I stood there in just a bra and thin, worn leggings, with the t-shirt in a tight grip when a man forcefully opened the door and entered the room. “Here you are, love. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I winced because even from here, his breath reeked. “For me?”
He took a step closer, running his hand through his dirty blond hair. Cringing, I stepped back, holding my shirt even tighter. What should I do? Was now the time to scream for help? Reaching out a hand, he trailed the tips of his fingers down my upper arm, making my skin crawl.
“Sssshhh,” he said, even though I hadn’t said a word. I was too busy being frozen with fear. “How about we play a little game?”
I licked suddenly dry lips, my heart pounding uncomfortably. Humor him. That’s what I should do. “Yeah? What game?” I asked, stepping back and hitting the bathroom cabinet. The guy leaned over me, touching my braid and panting. I turned my head away. Oh Jesus, I was gonna gag.
“You be Elsa and I’ll be Olaf. We can —”
“Far be it from me to kink shame, since you’re welcome to whatever little snowman fantasy is rattling around in that pissed head of yours. But it doesn’t seem to me that the lady is interested.”
My knees almost collapsed with relief, and I darted a look at the powder room door. It was that guy. THE guy. With the broad shoulders, impossibly bronzed skin with a hint of stubble and dark, wavy hair. And tall. Over six feet. Filling out his chinos and polo shirt to heavenly perfection. Over the disgusting smell of beer breath from the man leaning over me, I even caught a hint of some sort of spicy, woodsy aftershave.
“Fuck off. We’re just having a bit of fun. Aren’t we love?”
I was leaning so far away from him I was almost folded in half as he crowded me into the cabinet. Shaking my head, I shot a pleading, helpless look at my savior.
“It’s only fun if you’re both enjoying it. She isn’t. So, it’s you that’s going to fuck off. Right now.”
Beer breath turned to him, almost stumbling into me and the guy took a step into the room. It was getting very crowded in here and I could barely breathe. Feeling more than panicky, I squeezed my eyes shut and pushed at the drunk guy, desperate to get him off me.
He let out a grunt and sweet relief; he was no longer crowding in on me. As I opened my eyes, I saw him being dragged out of the powder room, yelping at the tight grip the hot guy had on his shoulder. Okay, so for a guy that looked like his shirt cost more than I earn in a year, he sure had some moves on him.
With beer breath safely disposed of, he turned back to me. The menacing, angry light faded from his hazel eyes as he surveyed me. “Are you okay?”
I straightened, pushing my hair back from my sweaty forehead with one hand. His gaze dropped immediately to my chest. Shit. Hastily grabbing my shirt and holding it over my plain cotton bra again, I cursed the blush that surged into my face. “Yes, I’m okay now. Thank you, Mr…?”
“Wolfe. Wolfe Rivers. And you are?”
“Esme.”
He went to shake my hand, then seemed to have a gentlemanly rethink of that plan, since it would mean me having to half drop my t-shirt again. A smile lurked behind his eyes and my heart did a slow roll in my chest. They were gorgeous, just like the rest of him. Hazel with flecks of green and gold. And thick lashes that should look feminine but didn’t. I hadn’t noticed his lips before, but maybe that was because I’d been distracted by almost being assaulted. They were full, crooking up in a half smile right now. Made for sin. Not that I would know anything about that, of course. Anyway, he was the complete package. Wealth. Charm. Animal magnetism. And miles out of my league. So far out, in fact, that he may as well be swimming at the bottom of the Mariana trench.
I could stand here and gawk all day, but that was about to get real weird, real quick. “Um, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too.”
He didn’t move to leave. Instead, he just stood there, gazing at me. The air between us crackled with electricity and I felt the hairs all over my body stand on end. Images flashed through my mind. Dirty images. Things I’ve never thought of in my life. I almost swayed towards him, my body feeling the drive to act on the thoughts swirling around my mind. Skin on skin. Tongues tangling. My legs sprea—Anyway! “Um…” So I wouldn’t win any conversation awards today, it seemed.
He gave a start and I swear, he visibly pulled himself together, pulling away from me. “I’ll, uh, leave you to get dressed.”
“Thank you.”
He reached for the door handle behind him, turning away from me.