Chapter One

Olivia sagged against the Dinky Di motel’s reception desk and lost herself in the blinding white sand, glistening cobalt water, and iridescent marine life splashed across the brochures welcoming her to Queensland, Australia: beautiful one day, perfect the next. But instead of lying on a deserted tropical island or snorkeling the Great Barrier Reef, she’d be driving five hundred miles into the Outback. To probably be mauled to death by a rabid kangaroo.

She shook her head and silently cursed her big sister. Why the hell couldn’t Abi be marrying a scuba-diving instructor or tour-boat operator instead of a cowboy living in the middle of freaking nowhere…literally nowhere? Baroona—the closest town to Wingarra, the million-acre cattle station her batshit crazy-in-love sister now called home—was indigenous for A Place Far Away. Which, according to Google Maps, was yet another example of the legendary Aussie knack for understatement.

She worked loose the kinks thirteen hours in economy had twisted into her spine and studied the seventies-inspired reception area of the quaint, if a little run-down, Dinky Di motel. Oh, who the hell was she kidding? The paisley-carpeted and wood-paneled monstrosity was a few stars south of where she’d like to spend her very first night outside the good ole U.S. of A. But luxurious hotels, business-class air travel, and fine dining would have to wait until the paychecks from the dream job waiting for her back in L.A. started flooding her drought-prone bank account.

“Thank you so much for your patience, Ms. Williams. Our booking system’s temperamental these days.”

“What did I tell you about that whole ‘Ms. Williams’ thing?” Olivia side-eyed the poor girl hammering the keys of what must’ve been one of Bill Gates’s earliest prototypes.

“There you are, Ms. Will—I mean, Liv.” Rachel’s name tag glinted under the flickering fluorescent light illuminating reception as she leaned back triumphantly.

Olivia couldn’t decide who was more thankful the booking she’d made a month ago had finally shown up. The young woman who’d just poured out her broken heart while wrestling not-so-modern technology or the exhausted close-to-thirtysomething doctor who’d just traveled eighteen time zones into the future and smelled like she’d flown across the world’s largest ocean in an overcrowded metal tube.

“Room six.” Rachel rummaged behind the desk and popped up with a key dangling from a hairless toy koala. “It’s our best single room.”

Olivia fought the urge to cringe and studied the tarnished key and tortured koala hanging from Rachel’s bejeweled fingers. Single. The title had never bothered her before. Hell, she’d worn her freedom like a badge of honor and flaunted her bachelorette status in her sister’s face so often it’d almost become boring…almost. Yet after enduring her sister’s stupid grin for the last year, semi-anonymous sexy times and relationships of convenience no longer held the allure they once had.

Cursing herself, she bundled up her first-world problems, shoved them back under the rock they’d lurked under since she’d kicked her sister and future brother-in-law out of her apartment, and accepted the key.

“Thanks for looking after me, Rachel. It was lovely meeting you.” Olivia narrowed her gaze and jabbed the bedraggled koala at Rachel. “And no more blubbering over arrogant bad boys who don’t deserve us. They’re not worth it, and there are plenty of good guys out there.”

Rachel’s smile eased some of the melancholy dragging on Olivia, and she couldn’t help grinning back. And she freaking should be happy. Ecstatic even. Unlike Rachel, Olivia had absolutely nothing to be sad about.

After enduring eleven years of college, med school, and residency hell, she’d start the career of a lifetime in just over five weeks. With her dream job at Cedars-Sinai came a salary that would enable her to stock her empty fridge with proper food, buy some decent clothes, and turn her Amazon wish lists into reality. And, to top off all that, she was only one day into the four-week vacation of a lifetime.

But the cherry on her freaking amazing triple choc-fudge sundae of a life was that her brain–tumor–killing sister was cancer free and a few days away from marrying the cowboy of her dreams. Ryder had shown Olivia what a real romance hero was and confirmed exactly what she’d been blindly searching for without even realizing: a best friend who made her laugh, respected her, loved her, and incinerated her lady parts on a regular basis.

“Dr. Williams, I presume?”

The voice rumbled through her chest and melted her insides like vintage single-malt bourbon. Olivia froze as Rachel’s eyes widened, and something between a moan and a gasp leaked from her gaping mouth. Olivia slowly turned and slammed straight into the brown eyes of her sister’s best man.

Jarrah Harper winked before pressing a phone to his ear. “Relax, I found her.”

Will Smith’s charm, Idris Elba’s rugged sexiness, George Clooney’s sophistication, and just enough Joseph Gordon-Levitt to disarm a woman’s self-respect. Abi’s description of Jarrah, Ryder’s older brother, flashed through Olivia’s mind as her wedding date’s grin widened into a smile that consumed his mahogany features.

Ryder had shared hundreds of photos of his crazy adoptive family. And she’d gotten to know the Harper clan during the weekly Skype get-togethers that’d become an apartment ritual. But Jarrah, the reclusive playboy lawyer, had never joined the chaos. Rumor had it he worked even longer hours than she did and only returned home once a year to help with mustering.

Their initial emails and texts had focused on their official duties. But with each late-night and early-morning message they’d drifted further and further away from organizing pending nuptials and into a trans-Pacific battle of wills. There was something intimate about knowing they’d probably both been in bed in opposite hemispheres while teasing each other. The distance had tempted her into some less than polite maid of honor behavior and the resultant flirting had convinced her that spending her first night Down Under in his lair was a very, very bad idea.

She’d done everything short of going full Jason Bourne to avoid sharing quality alone time with the man currently rolling his eyes and holding the phone away from his ear until she’d at least had a decent night’s rest. For one, it would annoy the crap out of her overprotective sister. Secondly, it’d been so long since she’d had a dance with no pants she couldn’t risk even the slightest possibility of doing something monumentally stupid with her sister’s future brother-in-law. Even if the sexy times were as wild as she imagined she’d be reliving the inevitable morning after for the rest of her freaking life. And most importantly of all, the darker version of James Bond studying her while holding a stunning wildflower bouquet scared her almost as much as he intrigued her.

“Wasn’t I picking you up tomorrow morning?” The question blurted out like an accusation, but given the difficulty she had swallowing, she was lucky the words hadn’t dribbled onto her blouse and dripped onto her practical yet hella stylish knockoff Jimmy Choos.

His ebony suit must have cost more than her ten-year-old Prius. The damned thing practically shimmered as he half strode, half floated across the worn carpet. The asthmatic air conditioner rattling above her barely pumped out any air yet still managed to tousle the jet-black hair brushing his collar like he was shooting an aftershave commercial. Before she’d even closed her mouth, she was slammed by the scent of money, power, and one-hundred-proof, prime-A-grade, Aussie male.

With a grin that disarmed her defenses, he swooped in and pecked her cheek before lingering just long enough to have her neck and certain parts of her anatomy snapping to attention. “Welcome to Australia, Doc.”

She was still figuring out what was more intoxicating: his scent, the tenderness of his kiss, or the way he enveloped her without actually touching her when he leaned away and offered her the wildflowers.

She buried her face in the explosion of color to escape his gaze, while silently cursing herself and scrambling to pull her shit together. Drawing in as much of the floral perfume as possible to purge him from her lungs, she lowered the bouquet and smiled. At least she hoped she smiled, because she couldn’t feel her face. “T-thank you, they’re beautiful.”

His sly grin confirmed he hadn’t missed her pathetic stutter, but it also sparked something inside her that finally jump-started her stalled brain. Easing forward, she rocked onto her toes and pressed a kiss to his jaw. His entire body stiffened as she leaned closer and trailed her lips just above his stubble to his ear. “You don’t scrub up too bad yourself…for a lawyer.”

When she pulled away, the mouth that had taunted her hung open, and his how you doing eyes looked decidedly more WTF.

An all-too-familiar bark from his phone tempered her victory celebration and shocked him out of his trance. Wincing, he shoved the phone at her and backed away as if it was radioactive.

Olivia grabbed the phone and slammed it to her ear. “How the hell did you find me?”

“Nice try, Padawan.”

Even the five hundred miles of snake- and spider-infested desert separating them couldn’t dampen Abi’s smugness.

“My future husband’s ex–Special Forces and even more protective of you than I am.”

Her frustration at being treated like a child on her first day of kindergarten evaporated as she pictured the giant six-foot-four-inch marshmallow who’d become the brother she’d never had. Wasn’t being an overprotective pain in the ass exactly what big brothers did?

“So, what do you think of my best man?”

Olivia had heard that tone before and knew exactly where Abi was heading. Normally, she’d play dumb and revel in her sister’s ridiculous attempts at subtlety. However, she was tired, jet-lagged, and way too preoccupied trying to pick up what Jarrah had whispered to the completely dumbstruck Rachel to torture her sister. “You’re going to pay for this when I get to that dusty patch of hell you call home.”

She canceled the call and was about to use the phone as a distraction to thwart whatever the hell Jarrah was up to when his screen saver appeared. She’d expected a half-naked woman draped over the hood of the ridiculously expensive Aston Martin Abi couldn’t stop yammering on about. Instead, a grainy photo of the entire Harper clan grinned back. Black, white, and in-between, European, Asian, and Indigenous. The only thing they had in common was the love radiating from their smiles and the fierceness of their hugs. No wonder her sister had fallen so hard and so quickly for the crazy rednecks.

Olivia pulled free of the image just as Jarrah thanked Rachel and slid something back into his pocket. Rachel’s flushed cheeks confirmed the receptionist had already forgotten about the little shit who’d stomped her heart and was well on the way to ignoring the hard-earned advice Olivia had just shared. Jarrah Harper was as cocky and dangerous as boys got, and Rachel was practically climbing over the counter to get closer to him.

Olivia drew in a fortifying breath and held out the phone. Jarrah pocketed it and refused to meet her gaze as he casually hitched her backpack over his shoulder and grabbed the handle of her pathetically underused suitcase.

Olivia folded her arms across her chest and blocked him. “Can I help you?”

With a pained sigh, he released her suitcase and raised his hands in surrender. “If I let you spend your first night in Australia alone when I’ve got a perfectly comfortable guest suite in my apartment, my mum and your sister will take turns beating me to death, and my brothers and sisters will help dispose of my body.”

Through a convoluted saga of emails, texts, and more than a little meddling from his family, Jarrah had somehow ended up riding shotgun in the passenger seat of the top-secret wedding present she’d spent the last of her pitiful savings shipping across the Pacific. She’d only relented to his family’s badgering because the prospect of driving solo across the desert in her father’s classic if horrendously unreliable ’67 Camaro was only slightly more terrifying than spending eight hours trapped in a car with him. But she’d drawn the line at sharing his apartment.

Her resolve weakened for just an instant. That was all it took for his pleading smile to turn calculating. “You swore an oath to save lives when you became a doctor. So, how about you save the life of an innocent best man simply trying to make his maid of honor’s first night Down Under as comfortable as possible?”

There was nothing innocent about him, but holy Mary Mother of God the man was charming. Fatigue had dampened her senses, yet she couldn’t shake the feeling that beneath the polished exterior he was completely genuine. That’s what made him so dangerous. She glared at him to ensure he knew she hadn’t fallen for his bullshit, and brushed past him before the grin she’d been fighting broke free.

She waited for Rachel to tear her gaze from the man hovering behind her before sliding room six’s koala key across the counter. “I’m so sorry for yanking you around like this. But this poor guy’s life’s at stake. Do I owe you anything for the room?”

Rachel hesitated before shooting a nervous glance Jarrah’s way.

Olivia spun in time to catch Jarrah shaking his head before he froze and grinned like the sneak he was. “You can pay me back later.”

Olivia wondered how much shit that lopsided smile had gotten him out of and how many lingerie ensembles it had melted. She spun around and fished out her credit card before shoving it at Rachel. “This is exactly what I warned you about. Stay the hell away from guys like this.” She hitched a thumb over her shoulder before cursing under her breath and shaking her head. “Now, please refund Mr. Harper’s generous yet unnecessary gesture and charge any cancellation fees to my card.”

Jarrah slid in beside her and leaned an elbow on the counter. He didn’t look angry, insulted, or even the least bit put out. If anything, his smile grew as Rachel fumbled with the credit card machine while trying and failing miserably to ignore him.

After even more juggling, nervous glances, and whispered thank-yous, Rachel finally completed the refund and held out the machine to Olivia. She keyed in her PIN before jabbing her card at Rachel. “And you pay your own way and take care of yourself. Never forget, real men are attracted to strong, confident, independent women.”

Rachel’s hesitant smile confirmed the hopelessness of the situation. What was it about bad boys that turned women into mush? After another useless warning glare, Olivia sighed and exchanged a knowing grin with Rachel before readjusting the strap of her handbag and reaching for her suitcase. Only to have her hand engulfed by fingers that were a lot rougher than a lawyer’s should be.

With an unstoppable tenderness, he peeled away her fingers and took control of her suitcase. “Look, I know you and your sister are independent women with a thing for taking care of yourselves bordering the psychotic. However, my brothers and I were brought up to carry luggage, open doors, and give up our seats. So for the sake of a helpless man stuck in a gender war he didn’t start, please let me at least carry your bags.” He extended the handle and wheeled her luggage back and forth before shrugging. “Technically, I’m not even carrying it.”

She tried summoning outrage, she’d have even settled for frustration, only she just couldn’t manage it. He was simply too damned sweet. Hiding her smile behind a scowl, she ignored Rachel’s encouraging nod and two thumbs-up and shoved past him as all sorts of alarm bells and sirens screeched inside her head.

Australia wrapped around her like a thick blanket as the Dinky Di motel’s automatic door groaned open. The picture-postcard scene greeting her was eerily familiar to the Santa Monica Beach sunsets she’d enjoyed her entire life. But instead of sinking into the Pacific Ocean, the sun disappeared behind the Brisbane skyline and the world’s largest and driest island continent.

She turned and found Jarrah studying her with eyes that seemed to be staring straight through her. She’d been so captivated by the view she hadn’t heard him pull up beside her. “Everything okay?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat like he’d woken from a trance before smiling and jutting his chin toward a mirror-polished black Mercedes parked in the shade of an overgrown palm tree. “Your chariot awaits, my lady.”

The playboy had returned, but his casual expression couldn’t erase the glimpse she’d caught of the unsure man who’d stared at her with what looked remarkably like apprehension. She’d seen that look before. Seen it in the college boys who’d asked her out and the so-called men who’d hit on her as an adult. However, the man pretending not to notice her while striding toward the Mercedes wasn’t some cocky frat boy or half-drunk player, he was a fully grown alpha male in every sense of the word.

Her sister loved the virtue-pillaging pirate even more than she enjoyed making his life hell. And if the stories Ryder had shared about his brother were true, the only thing Jarrah’s long list of female conquests regretted was not spending more time with him. A few years ago, Olivia would’ve dived into the back of that ominous limousine and ridden it wherever he’d wanted to take her.

Maybe she’d finally grown up? Or maybe witnessing the indestructible bond Abi shared with Ryder had changed her perception of what relationships should be? Either way, casual hookups no longer interested her, and no matter how much her recently dormant libido jumped for joy at the sight of his taut buns prowling the sidewalk, there was no way in hell she was risking ruining her sister’s wedding and pissing off the family she’d be hopefully joining in a few days by sharing anything more than a car ride with Jarrah Harper.

Fatigue dragged on her, yet stubbornness won out as she hurried past him toward an elegantly dressed woman holding open the Mercedes’s rear door. The closer she drew, the less driver-like and the more classical movie star the woman became. Elegant, curvaceous, and armed with a smile almost as dangerous as Jarrah’s, the woman was anything from mid-thirties to early forties and smack bang in the middle of yummy mommy territory.

Olivia returned the woman’s beaming smile and mouthed a thank-you before opening the front door and dumping her flowers and handbag onto the front seat to claim it. “My mother warned me never to get into the back of a limousine with strange men.”

The woman’s musical laughter drowned out Jarrah’s muttered curse as she stepped around the back door. “Relax, honey, it’s been so long since he’s had a woman back here he’s more scared of you than you are of him.” The woman winked at Jarrah as he grumbled past on the way to the trunk with her luggage. “Plus, he’s got a very important meeting in about two hours that he better get his huge lawyer brain focused on.” The woman’s playful smile failed to conceal the concern in her voice.

Before Olivia could decipher what was going on, Jarrah closed the trunk and glared at the woman. “Didn’t I fire you?”

“Yesterday, and again this morning.” The woman shrugged. “I stopped paying attention to you years ago.”

Jarrah rolled his eyes and shifted to stand beside them. “Charlie, I’d like to introduce Dr. Olivia Williams. Doc, this is my soon-to-be ex–office manager, relationship counselor, and spiritual adviser.”

Charlie ignored Olivia’s outstretched hand and pulled her into a hug. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you, love.” Charlie pulled away yet kept hold of Olivia’s shoulders. “He’s been planning this for weeks and almost had an aneurism when we missed you at the airport.” Charlie ran an appraising eye all the way down Olivia and all the way back up again before hip-checking Jarrah. “I can see why the shifty little shit was so worried he’d lost you.”

Jarrah circled a finger around his temple. “Don’t believe a word this woman says. Her mind’s going with age.”

Olivia found it hard to believe a man like Jarrah worried about anything, yet his overt casualness betrayed him.

Any anxiety Olivia felt at being the punch line to the private joke evaporated in the genuine warmth of Charlie’s smile. “Consider me at your service for the rest of your holiday, love. If you get sick of this lecherous sleazebag, you give me a call. You get tired of those crazy Harpers or that fly-infested hell he’s dragging you to, pick up the phone. Us city girls have to stick together. And we can spend the rest of your holiday shopping, partying, and spending all his money.”

In all the stories Ryder had shared about his brother, he’d never mentioned anything about Jarrah and Charlie sharing intra-office hanky-panky. Olivia found it almost impossible to believe given the nuclear chemistry they shared. “I just might take you up on that. But all I need right now is a hot shower and a comfortable bed.”

Charlie backhanded Jarrah and waved a finger in the air before heading for the driver’s side. “To the bat cave, Mr. Wayne.”

Jarrah dropped his chin to his chest and sighed before gesturing to the front passenger seat she’d reserved. He waited patiently while she picked up her handbag and flowers and settled in before closing her door and sliding into the back.

Charlie had already snapped on her seat belt and had the Mercedes purring before she and Jarrah had even buckled up.

“Michaels sent through the intel yet?” A bone-deep exhaustion Olivia knew all too well seeped into Jarrah’s words as Charlie pulled onto the road and headed toward the setting sun.

Charlie nodded as she effortlessly guided the Mercedes around a hundred-year-old pickup, or ute, as Ryder had instructed her to call them. “Came in while you were stalking this poor woman.” Charlie cursed under her breath and hit the gas to catch a yellow light. “Congratulations, you were right.”

All playfulness vanished from Charlie’s features as she navigated a sweeping left-hand turn that took them alongside the Brisbane River and a boardwalk packed with people enjoying the evening. “Apart from being a slimy shit bag, our good old mate Dean Manningham has hired a hot-shot team of very expensive native-land title experts and policy advisers, and has spent the last three months buying every mining company CEO a beer. Plus, the arsehole’s bulbous nose has been frequently sighted lodged firmly between the butt cheeks of your number one fan.” Charlie paused and lifted an eyebrow in the rearview mirror.

Jarrah cursed before groaning.

“That’s right, sweet cheeks, none other than former Queensland indigenous affairs minister, Ian Perkins.” Charlie paused and overtook a gang of Lycra-clad cyclists choking the left lane. “The very same minister you effectively castrated in front of the supreme court and who’s since crawled out of the sewer and into the federal mining portfolio.”

“Great, just freaking great.”

For the first time since she’d met him, Jarrah sounded almost human. Instead of the innate confidence that flowed from him, an eerie sense of foreboding shadowed his words. She gnawed her bottom lip while wondering why the hell he’d hunted her down when he should’ve been preparing for this obviously critical meeting.

She turned around only to find him staring out the passenger window at the city center drifting by as if he were trying to broker peace in the Middle East. Charlie grinned while braking at yet another red light. Brisbane’s Friday night traffic wasn’t L.A. bad, but for a relatively small city near the bottom of the world, Queensland’s capital was jumping.

Charlie sighed and glanced at her before crossing the river bisecting the city. “Relax, love. Dean Manningham and his team of mercenaries may have the power, capital, and backing of Carter Industries, however, the greedy sons of bitches made one huge mistake.” Charlie hitched a thumb over her shoulder. “They pissed off the wrong guy.”

Olivia swallowed the lump in her throat and spun around. “You must be exhausted. Why don’t I catch a cab to your place from your office or just wait until your meeting’s finished?”

Charlie huffed and followed a sweeping bend that took them out of the city and into a swankier part of town. “Nice try, love. Even if you weren’t visiting, he’d still work well into the wee hours.” Charlie cleared her throat and raised an eyebrow into the mirror. “Despite his amazingly talented, patient, and horrendously underpaid right-hand girl warning him that even caped crusaders need sleep.”

Jarrah’s counterfeit grin only highlighted his fatigue. The last thing the poor guy needed was more grief from her.

“Thank you for picking me up,” she grinned and winked at him, “and I really mean that.”

Some of the tension drained from his features while his fake smile transformed into a genuine frown. “Thank Christ you’re not as stubborn as your sister. I was worried I’d have to throw you over my shoulder and lock you in the trunk.”

Oh, she was just as hardheaded as her big sister, but she was also more than a little curious to check out the infamous bachelor pad Abi had gushed about. She answered his frustrated glare with an angelic grin. Which he responded to with a slow shake of his head before she turned and sank back into the front seat.

Within the space of an hour, Jarrah had done everything Abi had warned her he’d do. He’d short-circuited her previously logical brain, sidestepped her stubbornness, and bypassed her independence all while making her feel special. Which probably explained why her sister loved the arrogant ass so damned much.

Charlie pulled the Mercedes up in front of a building that looked just like every other stylish riverfront multimillion-dollar art-deco apartment complex Olivia had visited. While she closed her gaping mouth and hauled her handbag and flowers out, Jarrah argued with Charlie as they wrestled her suitcase and backpack out of the trunk. Olivia’s mouth dropped open again as she stood on the sidewalk and lost herself in the molten sunset flooding the river and lush tropical gardens surrounding his home.

“It’s…” She drew the thick air into her lungs and still couldn’t find the words.

“Amazing.”

She turned toward the deep voice pouring over her and found him staring directly at her instead of the dream enveloping them. The high-pitched chaotic symphony put on by the parrots squabbling in the trees and the cicadas hiding in the dense shrubbery quieted as she tumbled into the eyes she’d been trying her best to avoid.

Drawing the jasmine-scented air deep into her lungs, she blinked clear of the spell she’d fallen under and dragged herself back into the real world. “Don’t you…don’t you have to get back to your office?”

His eyes lingered on her before he sighed and slowly nodded. “I’ve got a few minutes to show you around.”

The longer she studied him, the thinner his disguise grew, until the carefree playboy who’d tracked her down at the Dinky Di had disappeared and left behind a tired man with a lot more on his mind than he wanted to share. Abi and Ryder had never spoken about the price Jarrah paid for the flashy cars, fancy apartment, and high-society lifestyle. Then again, they’d only seen him when he’d been on vacation and five hundred miles away from his real life.

She broke free of his eyes and repositioned her handbag while shuffling over to Charlie. “Thank you for picking me up. And thank you for choosing my flowers, they’re stunning.”

Charlie exchanged an I told you so look with Jarrah before chuckling. “Have a fantastic holiday, honey. It was lovely meeting you.”

Charlie ushered her around the Mercedes toward Jarrah, who waited patiently on the sidewalk with her luggage like a high-class valet, before sliding back into the driver’s seat.

Jarrah escorted her into an opulent foyer worthy of a five-star boutique hotel before exchanging a nod with the young man manning the reception desk and guiding her into an elevator.

“Evening, Mr. Harper, ma’am. I hope you have a pleasant night.” The receptionist’s knowing smile vanished the instant his gaze left her and crashed into the man holding open the elevator for her.

Jarrah muttered something under his breath and shook his head before tapping a key card to the control panel and pressing the top button. His warning did little to dampen the receptionist’s enthusiasm but did prompt a covert thumbs-up that only drew another whispered curse from Jarrah. The doors closed and left her staring at their reflection as new age yoga music trickled into the elevator and Jarrah rubbed his forehead to avoid her grin.

She leaned over and nudged him. “I’m guessing I’m not the first woman to spend a pleasant night with you.”

Jarrah half sighed and half chuckled as he shrugged and slowly shook his head. “In my youth, Dr. Williams. In my youth.”

According to Ryder, Jarrah spent the few hours each week he wasn’t working entertaining Brisbane’s healthy population of single women. However, the man standing beside her had either worn himself out or had just survived one hell of a week because all he looked capable of was crawling into bed and sleeping for a month.

He studied her in the door’s reflection as the elevator shot past the dozen-or-so floors to the penthouse. “I’ve been told you enjoy the odd pleasant night yourself.”

Well he was spot-on with the odd. Prior to Sgt. Ryder Harper’s invasion, she’d resigned herself to the fact all men were only good for lifting heavy things and scratching certain feminine itches. And then the big dumb Aussie had proved there were some decent male specimens after all. She was about to let Jarrah know just how picky she’d become when the doors chimed open and the words, along with what air remained in her lungs, gushed out her mouth.

He held the doors open and ushered her straight into the centerfold of the Better Homes and Gardens golden anniversary edition. Polished hardwood floors stretched to a wall of glass that consumed one entire side of the suite. The huge windows overlooked the river and city skyline like a living, breathing motivational poster.

“Charlie will clean out the fridge and pantry when we leave, so eat, drink, and be merry. Try to leave a few Tim Tams and some ice cream for her niece and nephew, otherwise she’ll kill me.”

She shook herself free of the view and followed him through the open-plan living room and kitchen as he casually explained the voice-operated lighting and climate-control systems and pointed out the Michelin star-worthy kitchen, sports bar-size flat screen, and theater-worthy sound system.

He paused at the hallway leading to what she assumed was the guest suite. “I’m sorry I’m not able to show you around properly.” He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I was hoping to avoid going to war with these arseholes.”

The fatigue he’d tried hiding surfaced again. But it wasn’t the exhaustion that had her studying him. It was the genuine concern shadowing his features. While wearing that tailored suit and standing in the center of his penthouse like some modern-day business samurai, he looked indestructible. She couldn’t imagine many things getting to him. Whatever he was about to face definitely wasn’t going to be fun. “Please stop apologizing. The only thing I want is a shower and sleep. Do you think you’ll still be able to leave tomorrow?”

His grin banished some of the weariness from his features. “I better, otherwise you’ll be attending my funeral.”

“You going to be okay tonight?” She had no idea what had caused the words to dribble from her mouth. All she’d heard and everything she’d experienced had proved the man knew exactly what he was doing, yet an intensity lurked beneath his almost mythical features that she knew all too well. Because she saw it in the mirror every time she scrubbed up before trying to save someone’s life.

“Piece of cake.” He flashed her a grin that smothered her in all sorts of no good before striding to the elevator.

She was still trying to rid herself of the warm, gooey sensation when the doors chimed and began closing. She was just about to release the breath she held for no good reason when he shot out his arm and held open the doors.

He stared at her, she stared back, and time seemed to warp until it held no meaning. It took another chime from the elevator to snap her out of her daze. She scrambled for something to fill the awkward silence and cheer him up. “Want me to message you some motivational quotes?”

His blank stare turned devious. “If you’re that worried about me, those selfies you promised could really brighten my evening.”

She hadn’t promised him a damned thing despite the number of times he’d hinted, dared, and begged. And thank Christ he hadn’t followed through on his threats to send her some selfies of his own, for purely identification purposes. God only knew what chain reaction to destruction that would’ve initiated.

The angel jumping up and down on her right shoulder screamed to be heard, but his challenge had well and truly woken the devil inside her. “Semi-clothed, lingerie, or completely naked?”

He shrugged and waved her away as if women offered him nudes every day. “As long as they’re tasteful. I’m not one of those uncouth man whores you hear about.”

“Is that right?” She reveled in the fire returning to his eyes before nodding thoughtfully and hitching an eyebrow. “And what do I get in return?”

His answering smile confirmed she’d well and truly lifted his spirits. “Something that’ll drag both of us into a world of trouble.”

She had no doubt of that, yet a part of her far bigger than she wanted to admit was convinced getting down and dirty with Jarrah Harper might just be worth the lifetime of awkward family get-togethers that’d follow their inevitable fiery train wreck. Even the elevator must’ve sensed impending disaster because it’s polite chime turned frantic.

She held her pout long enough to have his roaming gaze lock onto her mouth before sighing just loudly enough to capture his full attention. After trailing a finger up her stomach and between her boobs, she toyed with her bottom lip and hit him with her huskiest sexy-times voice. “You’re right. You better get going before we do something we’ll regret.”

He’d cleared his throat, swallowed twice, and yanked on his collar before noticing her smile. His surprise morphed into embarrassment before the player reemerged.

With a nod that acknowledged she’d won this round and a wink that confirmed their bout was far from over, he lowered his arm and released the doors. “Sweet dreams, Dr. Williams.”