‘Companionship. For starters anyway. You can move on for the main course if things go well.’ Brie tossed a new orange bikini on top of her overstuffed bag. ‘It’s New Year’s Eve tomorrow. And I know for a fact his evening’s free. Like yours.’
‘What if I’ve made plans and I just haven’t told you?’
Brie looked her over, brows raised. ‘Have you?’
Olivia ran a lazy finger over her e-reader’s screen, waited for the next page to load. ‘Maybe.’ She continued staring at her reader.
‘I know you, my friend, and there’s not a chance. He’s leaving on New Year’s Day,’ Brie continued. ‘To work on his new book.’
‘Inspirational spot, Cradle Mountain. I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.’
Brie let out a long-suffering sigh and walked over to where Olivia was curled up on the couch and stuck her hands on her hips. ‘It’s New Year and you have the hots for each other.’
Olivia glanced up. ‘So? Are you saying I should phone him up and ask for sex?’
Brie’s grin was fast and wide. ‘As long as you’re careful. He’s a casual sort of guy and I know you’re not...’
‘Experienced.’ Olivia stretched lazily, waggled her fingers. ‘Maybe it is time I tried something different. And if I want to play with fire I’ve got to expect to get a little singed along the way, right?’ She dropped her hands and picked up her reader again. ‘Having said that, nothing’s going to happen.’
‘Hey, I’ve seen you two look at each other and it’s combustion central. So I’m saying yes, definitely try that new adventure, have some fun—you both deserve it.’
Combustion central? Not any more. She’d told him no. He’d accepted it. ‘We admitted the attraction. Now we’ve moved on.’
‘Yeah, right.’ Brie patted Olivia’s hand then rose and walked to her wheely bag. ‘It’s not too late to ask him down for a drink,’ she said as she checked her purse. ‘Or if you’re feeling shy, you could meet in the lobby, go somewhere on the waterfront and enjoy the view. Oh, and for your convenience, I’ve put his phone number in your contacts list.’
‘Me? Ask him?’ Olivia’s chin lifted. ‘And I’m not shy.’
‘I know you’re not—usually. You’re an equal rights ambassador and you demonstrated that to him very clearly, more than once.’ She cocked her head to one side. ‘Maybe he feels threatened.’
‘Threatened? Jett?’ Olivia laughed—a little hysterically—and stood too, hands in the pockets of her jeans as she walked to the door to see Brie off. ‘Is this the same guy we’re talking about?’
‘He’s my brother, obviously I don’t see him the same way you do. Happy New Year,’ Brie said against her cheek. ‘Go out and have a good time.’
‘Yep.’
Brie studied her a moment. ‘You’re really not even going to try, are you? I should have insisted you come with us instead of letting you opt out as you always do.’ She pulled out her phone to check her messages, then opened the door. ‘Phone coverage isn’t reliable that far north. If anything urgent happens...’
‘Nothing’s going to happen. I’m going to open a bottle of champagne and drink it in the spa then go downstairs and enjoy the street party. Have a great trip.’
* * *
New Year’s Eve on Hobart’s city streets was alive with people and action. Eyes disguised behind a pair of reflective sunglasses, Jett stepped out of the crowded hotel lobby and into a cab. Knowing trouble was in the same hotel alone and a few floors below him, he needed the distraction. He watched the casino’s twinkling lights come into view.
Endless opportunities abounded in love and luck with plenty of attractive women on the prowl. If he chose, he could celebrate the stroke of midnight back in his room with a bottle of chilled champagne, and a willing body to slake another kind of thirst.
To his surprise and chagrin, the thought of spending the evening going at it with a faceless woman he’d never see again left him cold. Ten minutes after setting out, he was back in the hotel, scowling. What the hell? He was never indecisive.
If he wanted to rid himself of a case of inconvenient lust for a leggy redhead, there had to be another option.
A swim in the pool? A cold shower? Only one thing was going to rid him of the simmering heat in his veins—and it wasn’t happening: she’d made it abundantly clear it wasn’t happening. He watched revellers spilling out of the popular restaurants around Sullivan’s Cove and knocked back a can of soda.