Playing By Her Rules (Sydney Smoke Rugby Series) Read Online Free PDF

aggravated sigh, knowing she was snookered. “Fine.”
    She had a good mind to order the most expensive thing on the menu, but she didn’t have it in her to be so bitchy. Being raised by an old leftie grandmother, and coming from a working class background, it was still somewhere in her DNA to be suspicious of wealth and excess.
    “Thank you,” he smiled.
    It was in his favour that there wasn’t anything triumphant in his tone. He reached for her elbow again, but she pulled out of reach. He might be calling some of the shots, but he didn’t get it all his way.
    He grinned at her, clearly unconcerned by her recalcitrance. Or, as her grandmother would have called it, petulance.
    “After you,” he gestured.
    Matilda entered the restaurant and was greeted politely by the maître d’. It was an entirely different matter when Tanner followed her inside. Clearly, the headwaiter recognized him, and much obsequiousness and fuss ensued. Which would have been comical enough without half a dozen stops for autographs and selfies with an admiring clientele.
    It obviously didn’t matter how posh you were—celebrity appealed to everybody.
    By the time they were seated on the terrace—conspicuously absent of other tables—half an hour had elapsed.
    “Sorry about that.” He grimaced, not looking very sorry at all. Looking quite pleased with himself, actually.
    “That’s okay,” she said, feigning boredom. “I took notes while your groupies stroked your ego.”
    His low chuckle was both unexpected and sexy. It was irritating that she couldn’t rile him as easily as his mere presence was riling her. “I remember when you used to tease me about my groupies.”
    He was right. God . She was turning into such a freaking shrew! Whatever their personal history, he’d done well for himself, and he should be proud of that. Hell, somewhere deep down, if she pushed past old hurts and resentment, she could admit that she was proud of him, too.
    He’d had a goal, and he’d worked hard and achieved it. Unlike her, who was still a long way from being professionally accomplished.
    Although hopefully that was about to change.
    Thankfully, with the arrival of the maître d’ himself to take their drinks order, she didn’t have to answer.
    “Do you like champagne?” Tanner asked.
    “Yes.”
    He smiled at the hovering maître d’. “I’ll have your best bottle of champagne.”
    Matilda frowned. “You drink champagne?”
    “No. I drink beer.”
    “I’m not going to drink a whole bottle of champagne, Tanner.”
    “Never say never,” he grinned.
    Matilda didn’t know how much the best champagne in this restaurant might cost, but with the opera house looming large behind Tanner’s head she figured it was way beyond anything she could afford. She looked at the waiter. “Just something cheap will be fine. I’m more of a cask wine girl. Quality is wasted on me.”
    The waiter’s polite facade was sorely tested at her mention of wine that came in a cardboard box, but it didn’t matter, as Tanner gave a dismissive shake of his head and said, “You’re best please. And whatever boutique beer you recommend.”
    “Yes, sir,” the waiter beamed and departed with a skip in his step.
    Matilda arched an eyebrow at Tanner. “Only the best for you, huh?”
    “What’s the point in having money if you can’t spread the joy?”
    Matilda regarded him steadily. Tanner was clearly enjoying the spoils of his career.
    And more than a little eager to show them off…
    “Rugby’s made you rich, huh?”
    “Rugby pays me well. My financial guy makes me rich.”
    It was surprising to hear Tanner admit it so openly. She’d have thought he’d be more guarded in front of a journalist. Sure, he’d always been a bit of an open book, but he must have learned over the years that the media could be his best friend or his worst enemy.
    And therein lay the problem, she suspected. He just didn’t see her as a journalist. He wasn’t taking her