All the same, as Amy stood under the shower, soaping off the stickiness of the long, humid day, she couldn’t help wondering how well she stacked up against Jake’s other women. Thanks to her aerobics classes and a healthy diet, she was in pretty good shape, no flab or cellulite anywhere. No sag in her breasts.
She’d always been reasonably content with her body and normally she wasn’t self-conscious about being nude. Not that she intended stripping off for Jake Carter. Besides which, he probably only fancied her because she remained a challenge to him. What physical attributes she had were really irrelevant.
With Jake it was always the challenge. Had to be. Which was why he lost interest once he’d won. At least, that was how it looked to Amy. Though she couldn’t see there was much winning in it when women fell all over him anyway.
She decided to wash her hair, as well. It would do him good to wait. Show him she was not an eager beaver for his scintillating company. Besides, she felt more in control if she was confident of her appearance; fresh, clean, tidy, and properly clothed.
By the time she finished blow-drying her hair it was full of bounce and so was she, looking forward to keeping Jake in his place. She left her face bare of make-up since she wasn’t out to impress. Jake could have that part of her au naturel.
Deciding jeans and a loose T-shirt would make a clear statement—demure and dampening—she tied the belt firmly on her little silk wraparound for the dash from bathroom to bedroom, opened the door to the hallway, and was instantly jolted from her set plan by a flow of words from Jake.
“She’s in the shower, making herself comfortable.”
He had to be talking to someone.
“Would you like a glass of champagne?” he burbled on, apparently having invited the someone into her apartment! “I’ve just poured one for Amy and myself.”
“What the hell is going on here?”
The incredulous growl thumped into Amy’s heart. It was unmistakably Steve’s voice!
“Pardon?”
“Amy can’t afford a place like this.” Angry, belligerent suspicion.
The shock of hearing her ex-partner gave way to a fierce wave of resentment. How dare he judge or criticise!
“I gave her a raise in salary,” Jake blithely replied. “She deserved it. Best P.A. in the world. Is it yes to the champers?”
“No. I only came to see that she was all right.”
Guilt trip, Amy thought, writhing over how she’d been so hopelessly devastated last week.
“From the look of it I could have saved myself the trouble,” he went on, the sneer in his voice needling Amy beyond bearing.
She whirled through the archway in a rage of pride, coming to a stage-stop as she took in the scene, Jake by the table he’d set for their dinner, brandishing a bottle of champagne, Steve standing by the kitchen counter, keeping his distance, obviously put out by her luxurious living area and Jake’s presence.
His carefully cultivated yuppie image—the long floppy bang of hair dipping almost over one eye, the white collarless linen shirt and black designer jeans—somehow looked immature, stacked up against the raw male power so casually exhibited by Jake, and for once Amy was pleased Steve came off second-best in comparison. She fully intended to rub it into her ex-lover’s ego. Let him be flattened this time!
“Good heavens! How on earth did you get here, Steve?” she trilled in amazement.
He gawped at her, making her extremely conscious of her nakedness under the silk and lace bit of froth, which, of course, he recognised as part of the seductive and sinfully expensive lingerie she’d bought herself for her last birthday, intending to pepper up their sex life. The outcome had been disappointingly limp, undoubtedly because he’d been bedding the blonde.
“Mmmh…” The sexy purr from Jake was meant to inflame. “I love your idea of comfortable.”
“I’m so glad,” she drawled, seized by the reckless need to prove she wasn’t a downtrodden cast-off. Abandoning all caution, she ruffled her squeaky-clean hair provocatively as she sauntered towards Jake, knowing full well the action would cause a sensual slide of silk over her curves. “Champagne poured?”
“Ready to fizz into your bloodstream, darling.”
The wicked wolf eyes were working overtime as he handed her a brimming glass. One thing she could say for Jake, he was never slow on the uptake. Right at this moment, his response was positively exhilarating. In the hunk stakes, Jake Carter was a star.
“Darling!” Steve squawked.
Hopefully he was feeling mortifyingly outshone! And very much the odd one out in this threesome!
“I’ve always thought she was,” Jake tossed at him. “I should thank you for bowing out, Steve. It freed Amy up for me, got rid of her misplaced loyalty, opened her eyes…”
“I didn’t do it for you,” Steve chopped in, furious at finding himself upstaged by her boss.
“Which reminds me, where is your bride-to-be?” Amy asked silkily, having fortified herself with a fine slug of alcohol. “Lurking outside to see that you don’t stay too long?”
“No, she’s not!”
“Well, if I were her, I wouldn’t trust you out of my sight. Not after working so hard to get a ball and chain on you.”
Let his free spirit wriggle on that barb, Amy thought bitterly. She sipped some more champagne to dilute the upsurge of bile from her stomach.
Steve’s face bloomed bright red. To Amy, it was a very satisfying colour. Much better than the pallid white he’d left on her face a week ago.
“She knows I’m here. I told her…”
“And just how did you know where to come, Steve?” she inquired with sweet reason. “I haven’t given this address to anyone.”
“Except me,” Jake popped in, shifting to slide his arm around her shoulder in a man-in-possession hug. “We’ve moved so much closer in the past few days.”
Amy snuggled coquettishly, getting quite a charge out of the hip and thigh contact.
Steve looked as if he was about to burst a blood vessel. Which served him right, having thrown a blonde and a baby in her face. He clenched his jaw and bit out his explanation.
“I went to the Bondi apartment this morning and saw our stuff being carried out to the removalist van…”
“Our stuff?” She couldn’t believe he was backtracking on the division of their property. How crass could he get in the circumstances? “It was agreed this was my stuff.”
“Mostly, yes. But there were little things I left behind. Overlooked in…well, not wanting to make things worse for you.”
“Worse for whom?” she demanded with arch scepticism. “The great evader couldn’t get out fast enough. That’s the truth of it, Steve.”
He flushed. “Have it your way. But I still want my things. And since you’d obviously packed up the lot, I followed the van here, then gave you time to unpack…”
“How considerate of you! What things?”
“Well, there were photographs and mementos…”
“I threw them all out.”
“You…what?”
Amy shrugged. “Unwanted baggage. What’s gone is gone,” she declared and proceeded to drain her glass as though to celebrate the fact.
“One