Playing it Cool (Sydney Smoke Rugby) Read Online Free PDF

siblings, volunteering her time at the hospital—any guy would be lucky to be with her.
    And that didn’t even go anywhere near her physical attributes. The strength of her Amazonian body, curves that wouldn’t quit, an ass that he couldn’t wait to get his hands on, and her mouth… Man, that mouth, all full and glistening with gloss again tonight.
    Lush.
    He glanced at his painting—a hopelessly inadequate 2D representation. The fullness didn’t do it justice. The wetness wasn’t right. The contours of her lips were not as perfectly defined. Her mouth was a goddamn frickin’ work of art. How did he even capture that?
    More importantly, how in hell was she even still single?
    He glanced back toward Harper to find her making her way to the table, a really full glass of wine in her hand. Her jeans clung lovingly to her thighs and hips, and her hair, pulled back into a ponytail, swished behind her. Things moved interestingly under her shirt.
    “Sorry ’bout that,” she chirped, an overly bright smile fixed on her face as she sat. “Did you want another drink? I can call the waiter.”
    Dex shook his head. He only ever sat on one drink when he was out in public. Too many footy payers got themselves into trouble by overindulging and acting like dicks.
    “No, thanks.”
    “You should see some of the other paintings,” she continued, still bright as a button. “I’m always amazed at people’s creativity.”
    Dex picked up her phone. He sure as hell wasn’t going to sit here and pretend like nothing had happened or let the vile insinuations of the message go uncountered. “I read your text.”
    Her chest puffed up, and for a moment he thought she was going to tell him off for invading her privacy, and to mind his own goddamn business. Both of which he deserved. Instead her shoulders slumped, her smile faded, and she stared morosely into her wine.
    “It’s fine.” She dismissed the matter with a shrug. “Don’t worry about it.”
    Don’t worry about it? Was she crazy? “This date is not some dare.”
    The contortion of disbelief on her face was comical. “Oh, come on, Dex,” she said briskly, her look incredulous. “I saw all your little rugby mates laughing and talking about us and shooting you the thumbs up the other night. It’s okay. I understand how these things go. I was using you, too, to get up Chuck’s nose. So we’re even.”
    “No. You’re wrong,” he said as she took two decent gulps of her wine. “Nobody dared me to ask you on a date.”
    “Okay, sure,” she said. “Maybe they bet you instead. Whatever. There’s no need to get hung up on the semantics.”
    “Nope.” Dex put his hand on his heart. “Absolutely not. No bet.”
    She waved her hand as if it was of no consequence. “So why are we here, then?” she insisted.
    “I heard the way Chuck was talking to you at the game the other night, and I couldn’t stand it.”
    She stared at him for long moments then laughed suddenly, a slight note of disbelief in the sound. “Oh God. I am in a pantomime, and you’re the dashing prince sweeping in to rescue me from my evil stepbrother.”
    “Okay, sure. I can be the dashing prince.” He grinned. “I can be whatever you want.”
    She didn’t seem impressed by his offer. “So I am a pity date. Score one for Anthea.”
    Dex shuddered. No way in hell was that bitch going to score any points on his watch. “ No . Trust me, I’d been lusting after you on the sidelines long before that.”
    She cocked an eyebrow at him, clearly disbelieving. “So you were going to ask me out, anyway?”
    Dex hesitated. The urge to be honest warring with his need to protect her feelings.
    Ultimately, honesty won out.
    “No.”
    “Yeah.” She nodded triumphantly. “That’s what I thought.”
    “It’s not like that.” Dex reached across the table and slid his hand onto her forearm. “Look…” He sighed. Where to start? “I don’t usually date, all right?”
    She snorted. “Not