Page 38 of Perfect Strangers


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“Are you decent, Myla?” He called through the door to the bedroom, “I need a towel.”

“Go to hell, Kai.”

Fine, if that’s the way you want to play it. Yanking the door open he strode into the bedroom. She was sat on the bed in a towel, eyes down to the floor and brushing her hair. He closed the gap between them in three strides, coming to a standstill in front of her. “I need a towel, Myla.”

She raised her head to look at him and yelped when her eyes landed on his flaccid dick now level with her eye line. The droplets of water slid down over the toned muscles of his abdomen and continued to trail down to the top of his groin. She gulped, loudly. Jesus H Christ, close your eyes Myla, close them tight and remove the image from your memory.

“Kai, please remove your penis from my face,” she said curtly and turned away.

“Give me a towel then, Juliet.”

“You are such a child, Kai,” she snapped. Dropping her hairbrush to the floor, she placed her hands on his abdomen and shoved him back from her personal space. Standing up, she pushed past him and retrieved a towel from the unit. Flinging it across the room to him, he flashed her a cocky smile. “That wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Ignoring him, she grabbed some clothes from her suitcase and raced back in to the en-suite muttering under her breath as she went.

“So, Casper? You need to fill me in,” said Kai taking a seat on the bed now dressed in a pair of lounge pants, “is he going to pose a problem in this plan of yours?”

“Nope,” she responded waltzing back into the bedroom dressed in Hello Kitty pajamas.

Kai sniggered, “If I’m a child, what does that make you? Come on, Myla! Hello Kitty? How old are you, ten?”

“Fuck you!” She snapped pulling back the bed covers and climbed inside the bed.

“Your father seems to think he will be a problem. He’s told me to keep you close and not to let this Casper near you.”

Myla groaned and clamped her arm over her eyes. “I’m over him. He will not be a problem.”

“Are you sure? Are you still in love with him?” Kai asked. He pulled the covers back and climbed in next to her causing her to shuffle herself farther to the edge of the bed, away from him.

“No, I’m not still in love with him. Like I said it’s in the past, I no longer have feelings for him.”

“Have you seen him since you left for London?”

“No. Last time I was home, he wasn’t in town so this whole wedding will be the first time I’ve seen him since the day we split up.” She replied quietly.

“Well that’s going to be fun then, do you want me to still act like your doting fiancé, Myla? I need to know what you expect of me when he’s around.” Kai sighed as he entwined his fingers together and rested them behind his head.

“You act like I’m your whole world, Kai. Like we are completely in love with each other, nothing changes.”

“Your dad says he wants a divorce and he wants legal advice from me,” Kai stated glumly, scrunching his face up.

Sitting bolt right up in bed, Myla’s eyes went wide, “Shit, are you serious?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” He replied sternly with his face set like stone.

“Well, about time. My mother doesn’t deserve him and he? Well he certainly deserves to be happy.”

“Myla, you’re missing the point,” said Kai, exasperated, “he wants legal advice, how can I give him that? I don’t know the first thing about matrimonial law.”

“Well then, you had best get friendly with Google,” she retorted with a sarcastic smile and a wink. Throwing herself back down, she pulled the covers over her and clamped them down tightly in her hands, cocooning herself away from him.

She felt him shuffle and move around on the other side of the bed before stilling. “Sweet dreams, angry bird.”

She smiled to herself. “Good night, dickhead,” she murmured lowly, instantly regretting her choice of words as the unwanted images engrained into her brain of Kai’s manhood, floated back into the forefront of her mind.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

She sat with her hands clamped tightly in her lap as Kai brought her father’s classic Austin Martin, to a slow standstill outside the premises of Lava Dance Studio. Killing the engine, he sighed before turning his body towards her. “Myla, are you okay? You’ve barely spoken two words since …Uhm …this morning, you …know,” he trailed off struggling to find the words to continue when he suddenly found a keen interest in the gear stick. He sat lazily tracing over the gear numbers with his forefinger.

> Throwing her head back into the seat, she untangled her fingers and brushed them lightly over her face. The embarrassment coursed through her body and came to an earth-shattering wallop, straight onto her cheeks, they were literally on fire, again.

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