CHAPTER FIVE

      Abby

      IF THERE WERE awards handed out to people for the art of pretending, I’d have an entire shelf full. A room full. An entire house full. I’d be in the academy’s hall of freaking fame.

      I’d done it my whole life. Pretending I liked the handcrafted silver jewellery box for my seventh birthday when I’d wanted a backyard cricket set. Pretending I liked having a fully catered disco party for my thirteenth birthday when I’d wanted to have fish and chips on the beach with my only friend. Pretending I didn’t mind having a lavish society wedding when I would’ve been happy swapping vows at the register office.

      Yeah, I was an expert at pretence. A goddamn queen. Which was how I managed to get through the rest of the day, creating brioche and baguettes and pains au chocolat, like that kiss had never happened.

      That kiss.

      Six hours later, it still haunted me.

      Powerful and commanding and so damned passionate I got damp just thinking about it.

      I’d never, ever, been kissed like that.

      Like stepping into a raging inferno, consumed by heat from the inside out and not giving a damn.

      I’d lost it. The moment his mouth covered mine I hadn’t been able to think. Hadn’t wanted to, if I was completely honest. Because kissing Tanner King put a full stop on my old life and kickstarted my new.

      I’d wanted to celebrate with Channing tonight. Instead, I’d got a brief taste of Tanner and I wasn’t disappointed. Angry at myself for letting it happen. Confused why he’d done it. And seriously peed off. But never disappointed.

      God, the man could kiss.

      If I was the queen of pretending, he was the master of manipulating lips.

      My hand drifted upward to my mouth and a fingertip traced my bottom lip. I could swear it still tingled from the way he’d devoured me.

      ‘All locked up, Abs.’

      I jumped and spun around, hoping Makayla hadn’t seen me. ‘Thanks.’

      She grinned and pointed to the small table set up in the kitchen where staff took their meal breaks. ‘Why don’t you sit and tell me all about the dishy Tanner while I fix us a hot chocolate?’

      ‘Nothing to tell,’ I said, far too quickly, and Makayla raised a knowing brow.

      ‘You’ve been avoiding the office all afternoon and blushing at random times for no reason so I beg to differ, my friend.’ Makayla tittered as she performed a little pirouette, something she did often, as if to keep her dance training at the forefront of her mind. ‘Plus I just saw you staring into space and touching your lip, so I’m guessing you’re fantasising about Hot Stuff kissing you.’

      ‘You’re too damn perceptive for your own good,’ I muttered, but took a seat at the table anyway. ‘Make mine a double.’

      ‘Two giant marshmallows coming up,’ she said, busying herself at the stove. ‘Have to say, it’s nice to see you lust over a guy. In the three months I’ve been here, you haven’t mentioned anyone let alone been out on a date.’

      Was I that pathetic? Considering I’d avoided men for the last twelve months since Bardley the Bastard, probably.

      ‘Who said I’m lusting over Tanner?’

      Makayla beamed as she poured hot chocolate into two mugs. ‘Sweetie, it’s all over your face.’

      ‘Am I that easy to read?’

      ‘I’m good at reading people.’ Makayla plopped two marshmallows in each mug and headed for the table. ‘Got a ton of experience at an old job.’

      Sadness downturned her mouth for a moment, like it had been a less than pleasant experience, before her signature smile was back and she visibly brightened. Makayla spent all her spare time attending dance auditions and had worked in a few theatre productions. Maybe she needed to get a read on the competition?

      ‘It’s probably my self-imposed year-long drought—’

      ‘You haven’t been with a guy in a year?’ Makayla squealed and mimicked a faint as I rolled my eyes.

      ‘Yeah, I’m that much of a sad case.’

      It wasn’t until that moment I realised I was. Sad. My marriage might have been bland at best, but I missed the intimacy of having someone to debrief with at the end of a day. Of having a male perspective on life. Of being with a guy, even if the sex had been as lacklustre as the marriage.

      Maybe that was why I’d enjoyed Tanner’s kiss so much?

      Yeah, and downplaying it would make me forget it in a hurry. Not.

      ‘You need to get out more,’ Makayla declared, her forehead crinkled in thought. ‘A night out on the town. You and me. Drinks. Dancing. Deviously scoping out hot guys.’

      ‘Nightclubs aren’t really my thing—’

      ‘Bull.’ Makayla waggled her finger at me. ‘I’m not taking no for an answer. If you’re lusting over our new boss on the first day, you need to get laid.’

      ‘I’m not a guy—’

      ‘Girls have needs too, and after a year? Sweetie, you must be pretty damn needy.’

      I laughed as Makayla wiggled her eyebrows.

      ‘There’s this fabulous club, the hottest dance venue in Sydney, called Embue. We’re going. Tomorrow night.’ She did another jig. ‘So get your dancing shoes on, baby, because I’m not taking no for an answer.’

      I’d seen Makayla like this before, when she’d railroaded me last month into buying an exquisite rose silk scarf I couldn’t afford at The Rocks market. And before that, when she’d insisted I attend an art gallery opening that featured the weirdest nude paintings.

      She wouldn’t give up until I said yes, so I sighed. ‘What kind of a weird name is Embue?’

      ‘It means steamy in French.’