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own dance company?’
    ‘Yeah. Bastard.’
    The company she was supposed to star in. Until he replaced her with a younger, lither model, both in and out of the bedroom.
    ‘Like anyone’s going to work for him. ’
    ‘Some of the Bossa Nova crew must’ve defected with him?’
    Kit paused, cleared her throat, and Starr knew what was coming before her friend spoke.
    ‘A few of the leads.’
    ‘Aisha?’
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    Starr grabbed a nearby cushion and punched it hard.
    ‘You shouldn’t listen to gossip. I don’t think she was with him when—’
    ‘He was.’
    She’d walked in on them, and while she’d wanted to kick both their bony asses at the time, when she’d calmed down she’d realised Sergio had done her a favour.
    They’d been stagnant for a long time. She’d stuck with him out of familiarity more than any grand passion.The kind of passion Callum had inspired during that one, incredible, unforgettable night, damn it.
    ‘Anyway, enough about them. You need to focus. New job. Hot boss. Remember?’
    She didn’t need reminding. She had a feeling Callum would be crowding her head twenty-four-seven.
    ‘Okay, you’re right. I can do this.’
    ‘Do him, don’t you mean?’
    Kit’s wicked chuckle drew a reluctant smile.
    ‘I’ll keep you posted.’
    ‘You do that. And, hun?’
    ‘Yeah?’
    ‘You need a break. So cut yourself some slack, enjoy the job, and live a little, okay?’
    ‘Okay. Bye.’
    ‘Toodles.’
    After hanging up, Starr lay back with her hands behind her head and stared at the wooden beams criss-crossing the ceiling, Kit’s friendly advice ringing in her ears.
    Enjoy the job…live a little.
    Unfortunately, she had a feeling the two weren’t mutually exclusive.

CHAPTER SIX
    ‘N EXT on the agenda is organising the business dinner for Friday night.’
    Starr stared at Callum, hating the aloof control freak he’d morphed into.
    Where was the suave, smooth guy who’d flirted with her that night in Sydney?
    Where was the chivalrous, gallant guy who’d insisted he see her to her door?
    Where was the hot, passionate guy who’d held her in his arms and made love to her all night long?
    Vanished beneath a mountain of paperwork and memos and urgent e-mails, with his stuffy designer suit and starched business shirt covering a chest she remembered all too well.
    ‘Is there a problem?’
    She wrenched her gaze from his chest, noting with satisfaction the flicker of something other than aloofness in his deep, dark eyes.
    ‘No.’
    ‘Then concentrate.’
    His snappish order dispelled any false idea he was thawing towards her. If anything, he’d been cold and abrupt to the point of rudeness since she’d started work.
    He did have a problem with her, despite his little spiel about their night in Sydney meaning nothing.
    Gripping her pen tighter, she doodled ‘BAD MOVE’ in bold capitals before blurting, ‘Why did you hire me?’
    His lips thinned before he fixed her with a no-nonsense glare.
    ‘Because my work was backing up and you rang at the right time.’
    ‘You know I won’t be here long? That I’ll be chasing up dance leads ’til I find something suitable?’
    Steepling his fingers together, he leaned back in his director’s chair, his expression that of a stern principal dealing with a recurrent problem child.
    ‘I know everything about you.’
    She blushed, hating how true that statement was.
    He knew her erogenous zones, he knew her ticklish spots, he knew where she had a tattoo. A renewed surge of heat flushed her cheeks as she remembered how he’d traced the treble clef with his tongue, repeatedly.
    ‘I’m under no illusions as to your length of stay. You’ll be seeking employment as a dancer here in Melbourne. I expect that. In the meantime I’ll continue searching for a permanent replacement.’
    He sat forward abruptly, slammed his palm on the stack of documents in front of him.
    ‘But for now I need you to get started on these.’
    Pushing the teetering