Hen Party 1 (Hen Party #1) Page 4

  “That’s okay,” she said slowly.

  This guy was an enigma. He didn’t look poor. He carried himself with city sophistication, unlike the guys she’d come across in the sportsmen bar. With his striking TDH looks and magnetic aura, he should have his world how he wanted it to be.

  She suspected he wasn’t a guy used to losing control. What had caused him to get out of bed early and fly across the country without thinking about his return? Now he was in Perth, he seemed a little bit lost, and she was going to guess that this was also out of character for him.

  “Cheers to a change of scenery.” He reached across to clink his glass against hers.

  “Sooner or later, we all need some time away from our routine to just live a little,” she said softly. Breaking out of a rut was at the center of her thoughts, even if she didn’t know how to do it…yet.

  “When I was driving through the traffic this morning to reach the airport, I would have agreed with you one hundred percent.” He patted a hand on his chest to quieten his chuckle.

  She smiled at his subtle humor.

  “Perth’s sunny sky and beach air is a welcome break away from my city office, and also an excuse to unwind a little.”

  She raised her eyebrows. “I hope you enjoy the slower pace of your working holiday.”

  He swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, leaving a wet sheen glistening on his shapely lips. “I’ll see how I go tackling a few complicated issues I haven’t been able to get my head around.”

  He sounded genuine, and she believed him.

  “I didn’t expect to meet an interesting woman like you so quickly.”

  Why did his flattery sound contrived while the sexy heat in his eyes looked real?

  “Will you have dinner with me?” A charming smile spread over his face, making him appear even more enticing.

  She resisted the ego boost from a good-looking traveler asking her for an impromptu date. “No, I’m sorry I can’t. I’m committed to staying at Elin’s hen party. You’re the only rooster in the room.”

  He laughed in a deep manly voice that tantalized her ears. “Can I buy you a drink then?”

  She held up her cocktail glass. “My apologies again, I’m limiting myself to two drinks in case something goes wrong tonight.” Around her, the Henriettas’ chatter buzzed with excitement. Painted fingernails clenched small perfume bottles. Mist squirted onto wrists and cleavage. Kyra’s stomach flip-flopped as the air of anticipation thickened in the lounge.

  “Then I’ll stay and keep watch with you,” he said with confidence.

  Why would an outsider stay in a room full of klutzy women he didn’t know?

  All of a sudden, a loud siren from an emergency vehicle wailed through the hotel. The warning signal came from the vicinity of the car park. The alarm faded as quickly as it started. She looked to Maddy to see if the fullback had noticed the strange sound.

  Maddy finished her conservations with Denise and Susie and crossed the floor again. Before Kyra could respond to Joe’s offer to keep her company, she felt a tap on her right shoulder.

  “The star’s name is Sergeant Paul,” Maddy whispered in Kyra’s ear. “Stage name, that is. Here he comes.”

  “What?” Kyra put her drink down on a table as a muscle-bound policeman dressed in a body-hugging uniform marched through the French doors. He stomped his knee high boots on the hardwood floor.

  “Who’s causing the civil disobedience around here?” he asked in a guttural voice.

  Joe moved in closer to Kyra’s left side. “What’s going on?”

  Kyra cleared her throat. “I think you should return to the front bar.” Her heart beat faster. “You don’t want to be around when the Henriettas lose control of their hormones.”

  “No, you’re the one with a build-up of frustration that’s ready to pop.” Maddy’s voice was loud enough for Joe to hear.

  Kyra squeezed her hands together to stop herself reaching across to muffle Maddy’s whale of a mouth. “The policeman actor is going to cause problems, and I’ll hold you responsible,” she muttered to Maddy.

  The fake cop took off his sunglasses and, with a stern face he scanned the room.

  “Poor Ka-Ka, you’re always blaming someone else when life gives you a lemon to suck on,” Maddy said. “If you had more lay-ins with hot-blooded blokes, you wouldn’t dump your letdowns onto Elin.” The policeman’s attention fixed on Maddy. She smiled and pointed her finger at the bride-to-be.

  The actor strode toward Elin.

  “How can playing up with another man be a good way for Elin to celebrate her upcoming wedding to Marco?” Kyra asked, outraged.

  With a deadpan expression on her face, Maddy said, “We know Elin better than you do, so shut up. She’s a dirty princess who’s been kissed by a geeky accountant.” She waltzed off in her chunky heels.

  “That’s a terrible way to describe a couple about to get married,” Kyra said to Joe.

  Joe’s pale face appeared in front of her. “You look shaken.”

  “Elin’s fiancé is a responsible man from a wealthy family of Italian migrants,” she said, defending Maddy’s attack on Marco. “It’s not his fault he’s not very tall for a man and he wears thick black glasses.” He’s besotted with Elin, and she’s an adorable, kind-hearted person. Her thoughts were rambling, along with her mouth and she couldn’t stop even though Joe’s tense face suggested she should button it. “Maddy thinks Marco will make Elin give up hockey to breed lots of little Marcos.”

  Joe’s jaw clamped, a pulse beating at the side of his neck.

  “I’m being a harpy.” She flicked the hair off her shoulders. “Maddy is right. I’m dumping my emotions on other people when I shouldn’t.”

  “No, I didn’t hear it that way.” When the color returned to his face he said, “Come, sit down with me, and we’ll talk about it some more.” His hand cupped her elbow and he led her to a table.

  The sound of chairs scraping and the clatter of shoes on the floorboards rasped in Kyra’s ears. She turned around to see the Henriettas lining up either side of Elin.

  “Oh heavens above, no, this can’t be happening,” she exclaimed as a fresh bout of anxiety took hold of her. “The whole team is leading Elin astray. Marco doesn’t even know she plays hockey. Elin wanted to tell him after they were married, because she’s already suffered enough disapproval of their relationship from his friends. They call her posh Elin, the warehouse worker with an ambition to marry up. That’s a whole lot of nonsense made up by bored people with small lives.”

  Deep in his thoughts, Joe rubbed a hand across his stubbly jaw. “What are her friends going to do?” He stopped at a table, but Kyra was too on edge to sit down.

  “I don’t know, but it won’t be good.” She turned to face Joe, and his brown eyes captured hers. “You don’t have to stay with me,” she said. “I know these women, and I can deal with the situation.”

  “After a seven hour flight across the country, I didn’t make any plans for tonight except to grab a meal and take a hot shower. I can stick around in case things get out of hand,” he offered.

  Where did this guy say he was from? Sydney? Or was he a time-traveling, knight-to-the-rescue from another century? “Thanks,” she said, grateful for his chivalrous offer.

  The tempo of the music quickened and the volume racked up louder. The beefcake actor pranced toward Elin. She locked eyes on him and giggled like a girl.

  Right! Kyra had seen enough of the gig to know Sergeant Paul had a regressive effect on Elin’s behavior. Kyra couldn’t stand back and watch Elin act like a teenager.

  She stumbled forward, almost lost her balance and righted herself. “I have to stop this silly entertainment before it goes any further,” she said to Joe over her shoulder, and rushed toward her petite friend. “Elin…hello,” she called. “I’m over here. It’s Kyra.” She waved her hand, but the actor stood in the way and flexed his biceps in a display of macho.

  “Elin, can we talk?” she called.<
br />
  “We’ll talk soon, Kyra,” Elin chirped, “after we watch the babe action, okay?”

  A moment later, the actor ripped open the front of his blue police shirt to the sound of ear-piercing, wolf-whistles from the Henriettas.

  Her fears about a wild night had become a reality. Volcanic heat flushed through Kyra’s body at the sight of his naked, ripped torso. The show of oiled, tanned, male flesh had changed the whole group of women into ditzy girls. Joe’s comment about the party girls was spot on. He reappeared at her side with mind-blowing timing.

  “What if Marco finds out about the stripper?” she asked him. Her head turned fuzzy, and she grasped Joe’s arm for something solid to hold onto.

  * * *

  Jovanni smarted from the impulsive decision he’d made to rush from the airport and privately meet with Elin and Kyra before the pre-wedding get-togethers on the weekend. Now he was smack bang in the middle of a stripper crisis he shouldn’t know about.

  This dilemma could have been avoided if Marco hadn’t forgotten to include Jovanni as a member of the wedding party. He grimaced at the deliberate negligence. The invitation also got lost in the mail for tomorrow night’s dinner party and Sunday’s picnic with family and friends, meaning Marco didn’t want Jovanni anywhere near his bride.

  Jovanni was never going to stay away from the important events in Marco’s life. Marco knew it and refused to accept it. Blood was thicker than water, no matter what. Family was family, through the good and bad times. You didn’t give up on each other, even if there was nothing you could do to improve the relations.

  Jovanni could have spent time getting to know these two women, the wedding party VIPs, under less racy circumstances. Instead, his suspicions had festered, his impatience had grown legs, and he’d walked into the Ainslie Hotel to meet the ladies and make his own judgements about them.

  Butting heads with Marco came with consequences. Exclusion. Stay in Sydney, Jovanni, and eat your pride because I found a wife and you can’t was the gist of Marco’s messages. No woman can put up with the devil in you.

  Kowtowing to Marco’s manipulation wasn’t an option either. Bad decisions had their price, and Jovanni wasn’t afraid to get in Marco’s way in order to stop him making another mistake in his life or in business.

  Who would believe he wanted the best of both for Marco? Prejudice and long memories from the Gina affair worked against Jovanni, only he’d learnt to harness the angst to get what he wanted.

  Jovanni’s mouth turned dry, and he drank more whiskey.

  Was Elin madly in love with Marco like he boasted? Would the vivacious, blond, Warehouse Supervisor freak out during the strip act? Or would Marco’s fiancée enjoy the raunchy stud performing imitation sex moves for her pleasure?

  Jovanni gazed at the beautiful Kyra. When he took her hand in his, he forgot about the fierce emotions that had driven him to the airport and even deeper into anguish. She hadn’t recognized him yet. He had no doubt that she was smart enough to put the clues together and work out his identity before the night was over, even though she’d accepted him at face-value as a businessman on a working holiday. He felt like a man who’d temporarily lost his tarnished reputation and been given a weekend get-out-of-jail pass.

  He wasn’t going anywhere until he solved the puzzle of his instant rapport with Kyra Jamieson. She was too important to his future plans. During the last six months he’d come to depend on her honest, monthly write-ups to compare the sales figures with the expenses of the business. She was the only member of the executive team that he trusted to drive his expansion plans in the west of the country.

  In person, the chief bridesmaid made his head swim and his heart drum a jungle jive. His body charged with a desire to be near the uptown brunette, and his mouth opened to say yes to anything she asked of him.

  She’d caught him unawares and slipped past his defenses to stroke warmth into the cold heart Gina had left in his chest. No other woman had achieved a near-miracle like that. He curled an arm around Kyra’s waist to hold her steady on her feet.

  Chapter Four

  Kyra inhaled a lungful of air to recover. “What can I do to stop the bride from acting like an idiot and jeopardizing her future?” she asked Joe.

  “Nothing,” he said stoically. “The true character of a person can only be hidden for so long before cracks appear in the mask.”

  He seemed to be saying the strip act was inevitable and he was staying to watch the women behave like ladettes. She’d assumed he was staying by her side to act as her rock during the difficult conversations about cancelling the stripper she had to have with Maddy and Elin.

  “Can’t you see that the pressure from Elin’s so-called buddies is forcing her into making a huge mistake?” Kyra asked.

  There was fire in his eyes as he drawled, “If you think you know what’s best for Elin, then act on your beliefs.”

  Yes, the mixture of Maddy’s antics, Elin’s fantasies, and free-flowing cocktails were all the elements of a disaster gathered in one room. What sort of chief bridesmaid would she be if she ignored the signs and did nothing to stop the party going off the rails?

  Kyra smoothed her dress over her hips. “Watch me.”

  For a second, there was a provocative light in his eyes. The black stubble on his jaw looked raspy and rough now. His shoulders were wide-set, and he looked more than capable of taking on a fight. He loomed over her, his lean figure taller than hers by a hand span. To a shorter woman, his physicality might come across as daunting, but Kyra was used to working with men of similar stature.

  He arched an eyebrow. “How can I refuse your dare?”

  A pesky voice in her head warned her that she was in the company of a tiger of a man who was sheathing his claws and not baring his teeth. Acting on her protective instinct for Elin, Kyra made her way toward the end of the room where stripper Paul was now standing on the small parquetry dance floor, surrounded by the Henriettas.

  She ducked under his arm as he swung his police shirt in a circle above his head. A volley of air kisses and deafening squeals from the women raised the roof of the lounge. She continued hurrying toward the bride-to-be who was standing close to the wall.

  “Ka-Ka, help me stand up on the chair so I can see all of Sergeant Paul’s muscle-man action,” Elin said.

  Kyra took hold of Elin’s hand. “Please don’t put one finger on Paul’s body,” she pleaded. “Think of Marco, and how much you want to marry him.”

  “I love Marco heaps, but I’m thinking about my last hooray,” Elin said.

  “Tonight belongs to Elin, not you, piker.” Maddy elbowed Kyra out of the way to help Elin climb on top of the wooden dining seat.

  “Why are you being so rude to me?” Kyra asked. “You’re behaving like a bossy cow from hell.” She couldn’t understand where Maddy’s overblown animosity was coming from. They weren’t enemies—just unlikely to ever become close friends.

  The fullback bared her teeth with the dazzle of a she-devil.

  “Stop being gross,” Kyra snapped.

  Maddy tilted her head to the side. “I’m giving you the nudge. Keep your nose out of where it doesn’t belong.” With crazy eyes, she bobbed her head up and down, taunting, giving the appearance of a mad woman. “I’m running the party,” Maddy said as if Kyra was stupid and needed it repeated over and over again. “Got any questions about that? No! Smile and we’re good.” She closed her hands and gave Kyra two thumbs up.

  Kyra rolled her eyes and looked to the bride-to-be for support against Maddy’s menacing behavior.

  “Don’t stress, Kyra. Chill out and go with the flow,” Elin said. “Have a fun time with me tonight and catch up with your worries tomorrow.”

  “Elin, I’m concerned that you’re not thinking clearly about the stripper,” Kyra said, pained. “I can’t help it. That’s how I’m made.”

  Elin bent down on the chair and squatted on her haunches. She touched Kyra on the arm. “I know you care about me. Please,
this is not a life or death moment. Everything will work out okay, believe me.” Elin rubbed her hand up and down Kyra’s forearm, but she didn’t draw comfort from her friend’s touch. In the pit of Kyra’s stomach, there was a churning instinct that this gig was crossing a boundary, and there would be…repercussions.

  “Now laugh at the madness and cheer me on so we can get this party swinging,” Elin said, flashing her big blue eyes.

  Kyra swallowed down her reservations and gave a reluctant nod.

  Elin stood up straight and towered over the Henriettas. “Okay girls.” She waved her hands in the air. “Let’s rewind and let go.” Excitement bubbled in her voice.

  Cheers and chaotic sounds blasted Kyra’s ears. Her argument was lost as the Henriettas raised their arms high to applaud their captain’s decision.

  Despite the ill feelings simmering inside of her, Kyra gave a sigh of resignation. While she had no doubts that Marco was seriously committed to marrying Elin and becoming a family man, she didn’t know if he was open-minded about Elin enjoying sleaze with a male stripper. The niggling thought that Marco held some traditional views on marriage and family wouldn’t go away. She adjusted her stance, trying hard to suppress the instinct that Elin was flaunting trouble that could jeopardize her happiness.

  Paul’s chiseled face split into a saucy grin as he honed in on Elin. Blushing like a schoolgirl, she clapped her hands in time with the drumbeats to encourage him to whoop it up.

  Kyra’s stomach roiled with unease at the ticking time bomb of disaster. A chief bridesmaid was supposed to act in the bride’s best interests. A foul taste welled in her mouth. She had to stop the gig.

  “Get rid of Sergeant Paul,” Kyra ordered Maddy.

  “You don’t have to watch him get into his birthday suit. Put a bag over your head,” Maddy said with another stab of her elbow.

  “Ouch!” Kyra’s temper flared. “I’m sick of your rudeness. Stop pushing me around.” She jabbed Maddy back.

  “Kyra, please stop arguing with Maddy. She’s only trying to give me a fun party. What’s wrong with that?” Elin said, shrugging.