Page 17 of The Player

‘Drop the innocent act. The moment I walked in here and saw you, everything made sense.’

Her fingers dug into the leather, as if she needed an anchor. ‘Why you asked me to have a drink with you last night, inviting me back to your suite, the sex…’ She trailed off and glanced away, her blush rather cute. ‘I can’t believe you’d stoop that low.’

She thought he’d used her. Why? None of this made sense.

‘From what I remember, you approached me on that balcony. And from your participation in the phenomenal sex, you were just as into it as me.’

Her blush deepened as she dragged her defiant gaze to meet his. ‘What I don’t get is why you’d think I’d sell my story after I discovered your identity?’

She shook her head. ‘Or are you so full of yourself you thought I’d remember the sex and sign on the dotted line?’

Pieces of the puzzle shifted, jiggled, and finally aligned in a picture that blew his mind.

‘You’re the WAG we’re trying to sign?’

‘Like you didn’t know.’ She snorted in disgust. ‘Nice touch last night, by the way. “Your name sounds familiar?” Shit. I can’t believe I fell for it.’

Hot damn.

Liza Lithgow was the WAG he needed to save Qu Publishing.

And he’d slept with her.

Way to go with messing up big time.

‘Liza, listen to me—’

‘Why the hell should I?’ Her chest heaved with indignation and he struggled to avert his eyes. No use fuelling her anger. ‘You lied to me. You used me—’

‘Stop right there.’ He held up his hand and, amazingly, her tirade ceased. ‘Yeah, I knew Qu Publishing was pursuing a WAG for a biography but I had no idea that was you.’

‘But I told you my name—’

‘Which I had vaguely heard but, come on, I’d only landed in Melbourne for the first time in six months a few hours earlier and came into the office briefly before heading to that party. So yeah, I’d probably seen your name on a document or memo or something, that’s how it registered.’

He leaned closer, hating how she leaned back. ‘But everything that happened between us last night? Nothing to do with us publishing your biography and everything to do with…’

Damn, it wouldn’t do any good blurting out what last night had been about. He didn’t need her feeling sorry for him. He needed her onside, ready to tell her story so the board gave Qu more than a temporary reprieve.

‘With what?’

At least her tone had lost some of its vitriol.

‘With you and me and the connection we shared.’

‘Connections can be manufactured,’ she said, her steely stare speaking volumes.

She didn’t believe him.

When he’d first glimpsed her last night, he’d associated feminine and bimbo in the same sentence. Then when she’d spoken to him, he’d re-evaluated the bimbo part pretty damn quick. He never would’ve thought her attractive outer shell hid balls of steel.

‘Maybe, but the way we burned up the sheets last night?’ He smiled, trying to charm his way out of this godforsaken mess. ‘I wasn’t faking it. Were you?’

At last, a glimmer of softening as her shoulders relaxed and her glare lost some of its warrior fierceness. ‘Forget last night—’

‘Big ask,’ he said, continuing with his plan to use a little honey rather than vinegar to coerce her into giving him a fair hearing. ‘I don’t know about you, but the way we were together last night? Pretty damn rare.’

She glanced away, but not before he glimpsed a spark of heat in those expressive blue eyes.

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