Hen Party 1 (Hen Party #1) (3 page)

Quirking an eyebrow, Kyra looked over Maddy’s short, stout figure. “How do you keep yours toned?”

Maddy rifled a hand through her curly brown hair. “Listen up, and I’ll give you the lowdown.” She set her shoulders back as if she had important advice to offer. “Ka-Ka, first up, rip off your princess tiara, spike it with your heels and crush it into pieces. Then there’ll be no more precious princess performances from you.”

Kyra bobbed her head up and down like a penguin standing on cracking sea ice. “Sounds liberating and empowering,” she said in a mock serious-tone.

Maddy cupped her hands together in a prayer position. “Then the blokes will have a chance to get close enough to strip you out of your glad rags and give you the Vadge work-out you badly need.”

Mmm…just like the Vadge humping offers she’d received from the guys in the front bar. No thanks. Kyra lifted her hand to the halter neck top of her dress to make sure her cleavage wasn’t peeping out between the folds of patterned purple and red chiffon. With a saccharine smile, she said, “Let’s talk about your love life instead.”

The self-righteous expression on Maddy’s face soon faded. Then her eyes darted over the guests. “Well, I’m on the mark tonight. Who would believe Mr. Right invited himself to the party? And he’s looking for you, Ka-Ka.”

Like a gullible fool, Kyra followed the direction of Maddy’s gaze. A tall, buff guy strode deeper into the lounge. Okay, so it seemed the arrival of the stranger must have caused the earlier fuss with Maddy, Susie and Denise. She could see why. The mystery man was gorgeous.

An electrical charge zapped through her body. Then her eyes did a double-take, and her brain reloaded. Was he the same guy she’d seen in the front bar, a moment before she’d fled? The dark-haired man with the tanned complexion who’d looked her in the eyes, and hadn’t ogled her like she was a piece of meat?

Her heart fluttered in her chest as he continued walking to the cocktail bar. His tight face swiveled, looking from one side of the room to the other.

He was European looking—a dreamy, attractive guy wearing black tailored slacks and a snug white shirt. Her eyes melted over his fit body. Her cheeks flamed with heat. She checked the clips that held her long hair back from her face. He was so yummy looking and exotic, a real TDH—tall, dark and handsome man. It was as though no guy before him was worth remembering.

There was nothing boyish about him as he stood with a commanding presence in a room full of women. Sad, but the masculine confidence oozing out of him was a sign and not one from the heavens above. She was gazing at a
player
. The hook-up warning bell rang through the lusty fog in her head.

And she didn’t ignore the alarm.

She listened to sanity and reason and thought about the necessary protection of her already crumbling well-being. There was no way she was going to give any attention to the tingles between her legs. Maddy’s vagina talk was making Kyra too aware of her single status, along with the damn good reasons why she didn’t have a boyfriend.

She moistened her lips, knowing if she didn’t pay any attention to the aroused sensations stirred by this eye-catching man, they might just peak and fade.

“It’s been awhile since you squeezed your thighs together for the ‘O’ la-la, orgasm-buster, huh?” Maddy taunted.

Obviously, her low-key approach to checking out Romeo hadn’t slipped past the notice of hawk-eyed Maddy. It had been a year since she split up with Trent. She’d crawled down from her mountain of grief and given her life a make-over with a new job at Tisci Smallgoods.

An empty feeling welled up inside her from the memory of the executive rat confessing his love for her. It was on his way out the apartment door, before he went to live with his other woman. She was model-pretty and carrying his baby. He was a rotter for saying he loved Kyra and following it with his goodbye.

She didn’t believe him. He was a liar.

Kyra fiddled with her glitzy earring. Two-timing Trent was a tough lesson in accepting that good looks were a fragile glue to keep a couple together. After that setback and the months of voluntary celibacy, she’d worked out her new relationship values. Honesty, friendship and trust were what she wanted from a guy, and she wasn’t going to compromise. No more love rats in her bed, or in her life.

“I don’t need to squeeze my legs together. I run every other day to keep my thigh muscles in good shape,” Kyra said to discourage Maddy’s probing questions.

Leaning against the bar, Mr. Right looked directly across the room at Kyra. Her heart banged like a rock-and-roll drum. Then his dark eyes found hers and his dazzling smile changed her toned thighs into floppy props. The vibes of physical chemistry he gave off were high voltage, a dangerous threat to her blood pressure and peace of mind.

Keeping out of trouble was Kyra’s priority, not making eyes at a hottie. She turned her back on him and on the superficial, skin-deep attraction, to take a long sip of her drink. “Maddy, what were you saying about the party surprise?”

“What’s wrong with you?” Maddy whined. “Mr. Right is eating you up with his eyes. Why are you standing here like a block of ice and not melting into a puddle?”

Little did Maddy know that Kyra was trying to smolder the firebrand he’d thrown across the room at her. “I’m not here to pick up men,” she said, flustered. “I care about Elin’s happiness. Tell me what’s going on?”

“He could knock the snooty stuffing out of you and make you feel real good.” Maddy smiled at the stranger and then threw her arms in the air. “Mr. Right is walking out of the room because he’s already given up flirting with you.”

“Good,” Kyra said, bluffing, but inside she felt deflated, as if a hot-air balloon had popped and dropped her back to earth with a thud.

“You’re so hoity-toity, and he’s so about to get a surprise in the car park.”

“I’ll see about that.” Kyra went to walk off to the car park but Maddy grabbed Kyra’s arm to stop her. “You’re not going to interfere with the flashy gig I paid for.”

Kyra’s tracked his walk to the French doors that led to the garden restaurant. “What are you talking about?”

“Well, you know how Elin likes men in uniform?” Maddy’s smirk changed into a prankster smile. “This is her last chance to flush the fetish out of her noggin before she becomes Mrs. Marco Polo.”

Kyra tasted vinegar as she peered at her bestie who, she knew, harbored bad girl fantasies about guys in the armed forces. Tonight Elin wore slim fitting jeans, a beaded purple top and the radiant smile belonging to a bride-to-be.

“Elin is about to make a serious commitment to a man she loves,” Kyra said, digging her fingers into her hips. “What if Marco hears about the men in uniform gig? If he’s a jealous type of guy, it could cause a huge fight between them. Do you want to take the risk Marco is chilled out about Elin having a good time with another man?” Her blood cooled at the unnecessary challenge to the couple’s happy day. “What exactly have you arranged?”

Maddy’s blue eyes snared Kyra with the force of a woman determined to have her own way. “Your lectures are so boring and predictable,” Maddy ground out. “Drink up, because the Henrietta Hockey Team won’t stand for any side-lined players.”

Kyra raised her voice. “Elin’s future is what’s important here.”

All of sudden, whirling red and blue lights flashed through the French glass doors and onto the oyster-colored walls. The mystery man removed his hand from the door handle and hovered on his feet.

“Yeah, well I’m not hanging around for your thaw out, honey,” Maddy chided. “Kyra, pull up your big girl panties from your ankles before you trip over them,” she said and stomped off.

Maddy’s little party secret made Kyra groan with loathing. She dropped her gaze to the floor, wondering how the heck she was going to stay one step ahead of Mad Maddy, the hostess and trouble-maker extraordinaire. A moment later, a swanky pair of men’s leather shoes came into view.

She lifted her head and met a man’s pair of brown eyes framed by lush eyelashes and brows. His long, straight nose divided his face into perfect symmetry. His full bottom lip and peaked top were full of kissable promise. She let go of her held breath. Mr. Right watched her with candid interest.

“Excuse me, is your name Kyra?” he asked with a masculine purr that was a seductive tune for the ears.

How did he know her name? Had he overheard Maddy’s conversation about knickers? The glint of humor in his eyes suggested yes, he had heard the fullback’s loud taunts. But Maddy hadn’t used Kyra’s proper name in the conversation, or had she? Kyra couldn’t remember. A lump the size of a jetty pylon jammed in her throat. “Yes,” she squeezed out between pursed lips.

When the mystery man took a step closer to Kyra, she took a hasty step backward. Her lust-o-meter was zinging, and about to break. She placed her icy glass against her heated cheek and welcomed the cool relief.

The corner of his mouth quirked upward.

She huffed.

He watched her during an awkward silence that followed. She looked at him closely and their eyes locked. Instead of seeing a playboy who was sure of himself and his arousing effect on women, there was uncertainty glowing in the depths of his brown eyes.

All his attention was directed exclusively at her. No, no, no, she didn’t want to feel the sexy vibes zapping between them.

The chattering voices of the Henriettas dimmed. The figures of the party guests faded into the background, and all she saw was a man as captivated by her presence as she was with his.

“Hello,” she said. She had to get away from him, quick-smart. Stay safe from the pull of his magnetism, but her legs wouldn’t move. She was stuck, and the unnatural silence continued as they stared at each other inside an intense bubble of attraction.

He’s the one. He’s the amazing man you’ve waited for, to change your life, to marry, have kids…

No, no, no… She wasn’t ready to get involved with a guy again. Her rebellious thoughts were mimicking Elin’s life plans. She remembered all the cozy, girly chats about Elin’s happy future with Marco. The conversations must have colored Kyra’s thinking without her noticing.

“Hi, my name is Joe.” He offered his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kyra.”

When she shook his hand, tingles shot through her body. Yes, she was confusing Elin’s reality with her own lonely-for-love situation. This stranger standing before her wasn’t ‘the one’, since she wasn’t waiting for a guy to sweep her off her feet and into the bedroom. His scent surrounded her, but thankfully he wasn’t a stink-bomb of alcohol, body odor and stale musk. He smelled as good as he looked, and that was the source of her real drama.

Animal attraction!

The possibility of ‘O’ la-la orgasms, when, where and how with him?

He was swamping her body with sex hormones.

“I’m pleased to meet you, too.” Could he please stay on the other side of the room where she could keep away from lusty temptation? She’d learnt her lessons about shallow guys and fickle relationships. Uh-huh.

“I was having a quiet drink in the front bar when I heard a gathering of people next door,” he said.

She could resist his superficial appeal. He was the first guy to give her a flush of hormones in a year. He probably wouldn’t be the last. He also represented an opportunity for her to pull herself together and prove she was over her past relationship mistakes.

“I saw you there, standing among the sleazy guys,” she said with disgust.

He lifted his chin high. “I had a word with the manager. He decided the young men’s behavior was over the top, and he ordered them to leave the hotel.”

“It’s a relief to know they’ll be gone when I want to go home.”

“I thought I’d wander in and see if there was some live entertainment, a music band or something about to start playing in here.” He looked her in the eye as he took a sip of a drink that smelt like whiskey. “Who are all of these girls?”

“The girls are, in fact, grown women,” she said. There was a flicker of disapproval in his eyes at her curt tone before he shuttered his gaze. She softened her voice to say, “My girlfriend, Elin, invited her hockey team buddies to celebrate her upcoming wedding.”

“The bride plays hockey?” The surprise in his voice was real. “That’s a rough sport for a woman, isn’t it?”

“It’s a skilled competition to hit the ball between the goal posts. The Henrietta Hockey Team are premiership players.” Over the years, she’d watched enough of Elin’s games to know the Henriettas were a formidable force, on and off the field.

His eyes danced over her face. “Do you play hockey?”

She hesitated to answer while his gaze skimmed over her figure in a discreet way that didn’t cause offense. “No, I watch from the sidelines,” she said. Up close, his trim body quickened her pulse, but she was determined not to give into the tug of physical chemistry.

He smoothed down his neat crop of dark brown hair. “I flew in from Sydney this afternoon, and I’m slowly adjusting to being on the other side of the country.”

“You’re a long way from home.” She didn’t expect to see the unruffled look on his face as an answer. Was he travelling alone? “Did you come to Perth for a holiday?”

He clenched his white teeth in a fake smile. “I’m not a holiday sort of person.” He drank more of his whiskey. “After a sleepless night, I decided early this morning to fly west, catch up with family and check on a business venture.”

“Sounds like a full schedule to me,” she said, hoping he would tell her more about his business interests. They might have more in common than striking sparks off each other.

“Yes, time often runs away from me, but this trip is different. I haven’t booked my return flight to Sydney. I’m not giving myself a deadline to tie up loose ends.” He spoke like it was hard for him to get the words out. “I’ll stay here as long as I need to. My father and sister are taking care of things while I’m away.” Something old and tired crept into his eyes before it was replaced with a brooding look.

“I might just spend the weekend in Perth.” He looked straight through her. “I haven’t made up my mind yet.” His voice faded.

Something was troubling this guy. He sounded vague about his plans despite giving the impression that he had a laid-back attitude to his holiday. She sipped her cocktail, waiting for his focus to return.

He blinked and let out a mighty sigh. “I’m sorry for staring at you.”

“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.