Pleasured in the Playboy's Penthouse. Natalie Anderson

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      ‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘Catch and release. That’s the rule.’

      Hmm. Bella wasn’t so sure about the strategy. ‘What if she doesn’t want to be released?’

      ‘Ah, but she does,’ he corrected. ‘Because she understands the rules of the game. And even if she doesn’t, it won’t take long until she wants out.’

      Her mouth dropped. She couldn’t imagine any woman wanting to get away from this guy’s net. Flirting outrageously was too much fun—especially when the flirt had a body like this and eyes like those.

      His smile sharpened round the edges. ‘I have it on good authority that I’m very selfish.’

      ‘Ah-h-h.’ She was intrigued. That smacked of bitter-ex-girlfriend speak. Was he playing the field on the rebound? ‘You’ve never wanted to catch and keep?’

      He grimaced. ‘No.’

      ‘Why not?’

      For the first time he looked serious. ‘Nothing keeps. Things don’t ever stay the same.’ He paused, the glint resurfaced. ‘The answer is to go for what you want, when you want it.’

      ‘And after that?’

      He didn’t reply, merely shrugged his shoulders.

      Bella took another sip of the spritzer and contemplated what she knew to be the ultimate temptation before her—defence and denial crumbling. ‘After that’ didn’t matter really, did it? He had a beautiful body and a sense of humour—what more would a confident, cosmopolitan woman want for an evening? And wasn’t that what she was—for tonight?

      ‘So, now that you know something about me,’ he said, ‘tell me, what do you do?’

      He might have told her some things, but strangely she felt as if she knew even less. But what she really wanted to know, he didn’t need words for. She wanted to know if that tan was all-over-body, she wanted to know the heat and strength of those muscles—the feel of them. Everything of him. Cosmo woman here she was.

      ‘I’m an actor,’ she declared, chin high.

      There was a pause. ‘Ah-h-h.’

      ‘Ah, what?’ She didn’t like the look of his exaggerated, knowing nod.

      ‘I bet you’re a very good one,’ he sidestepped.

      Her cosmo confidence ebbed. ‘I could be.’ Given the opportunity.

      ‘Could?’

      ‘Sure.’ She just needed that lucky break.

      Now he was looking way too amused. ‘What else do you do?’

      ‘What do you mean what else?’ she snapped. ‘I’m an actor.’

      ‘I don’t know of many actors who don’t have some sort of day job.’

      She sighed—totally theatrically, and then capitulated. ‘I make really good coffee.’

      He laughed again. ‘Of course you do.’

      Of course. She was the walking cliché. The family joke. The wannabe. And no way in hell was she telling him what else she did. Children’s birthday party entertainer ranked as one of the lowest, most laughable occupations on the earth—her family gave her no end of grief about it. She didn’t need to give him more reason to as well.

      ‘And how is the life of a jobbing actor these days?’ He was still looking a tad too cynically amused for her liking.

      She sighed again—doubly theatrical. ‘I have “the nose”.’

      ‘“The nose”?’

      She turned her head, offered him a profile shot.

      He studied it seriously for several seconds. Then, ‘What’s wrong with it?’

      ‘A little long, a little straight.’

      ‘I’d say it’s majestic.’

      She jumped when he ran his finger down it. The tip tingled as he tapped it.

      ‘Quite,’ she acknowledged, sitting back out of reach. ‘It gives me character and that’s what I am—a character actress.’

      ‘I’m not convinced it’s the nose that makes you so full of character,’ he drawled.

      ‘Quite.’ She almost laughed—it was taking everything to ignore his irony. ‘I’ve not the looks for the heroine. I’m the sidekick.’

      She didn’t mention it, but there was also the fact she was on the rounder side of skinny. A little short, a little curvy for anything like Hollywood. But Wellywood—more formally known as Wellington, New Zealand’s own movie town? Maybe. She just needed to get the guts to move there.

      ‘Oh, I wouldn’t say—’

      ‘Don’t.’ She raised her hand, stopped him mid-sentence. ‘It’s true. No leading-lady looks here, but it doesn’t matter because the smart-ass sidekick gets all the best lines anyway.’

      ‘But not the guy.’

      She frowned. So true. And half the time she didn’t get the sidekick part either. She got the walk-on-here, quick-exit-there parts. The no-name ones that never earned any money, fame or even notoriety.

      She figured it was because she hadn’t done the posh drama academy thing. Her father had put his foot down. She wasn’t to waste her brain on that piffle—a hobby sure, but never a career. So she’d been packed off to university—like all her siblings. Only instead of brain-addling accountancy or law, she’d read English. And, to her father’s horror, film studies. After a while he’d ‘supposed she might go into teaching’. He’d supposed wrong. She’d done evening classes in acting at the local high school. Read every method book in the library. Watched the classic films a million kazillion times. Only at all those agencies and casting calls it was almost always the same talent turning up and she couldn’t help but be psyched out by the pros, by the natural talents who’d been onstage from the age of three and who had all the confidence and self-belief in the world.

      Bella thought she had self-belief. But it fought a hard battle against the disbelief of her family. ‘When are you going to settle into a real job?’ they constantly asked. ‘This drama thing is just a hobby. You don’t want to be standing on your feet making coffee, or blowing up balloons for spoilt toddlers for the rest of your days…’ And on and on and on.

      ‘Well, who wants the guy anyway?’ she asked grumpily. ‘I don’t want the saccharine love story. Give me adventure and snappy repartee any day.’

      ‘Really?’ he asked in total disbelief. ‘You sure you don’t want the big, fluffy princess part?’

      ‘No, Prince Charming is boring.’ And Prince Charming, the guy her family had adored, wouldn’t let her be herself.

      He leaned forward, took her СКАЧАТЬ