Our Kind of Love Read online

  Our Kind of Love

  Victoria Purman

  www.harlequinbooks.com.au

  ALSO BY VICTORIA PURMAN

  The Boys of Summer novels:

  Nobody But Him

  Someone Like You

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  When Victoria Purman woke up one day and realised she’d spent most of her working life writing for other people, she decided it was finally time to tell stories of her own. She’s now thrilled to spend her days creating dialogue and happy-ever-afters for her imaginary characters. Her Boys of Summer trilogy is set on the south coast of her home state of South Australia, somewhere she feels compelled to do a lot of research. When she’s not writing, Victoria spends time with her husband, three sons, a disobedient dog, her loving, extended family and dear friends.

  For E.

  Dear Reader:

  Welcome back to Middle Point!

  I’m so excited to be introducing Our Kind of Love. This book is the story of Anna and Joe, the dedicated GP and the cynical journalist we met in Someone Like You. They’re two people nursing broken hearts who absolutely, positively aren’t looking for love. I, of course, had other plans for these two!

  All the characters from the first two books in the Boys of Summer trilogy are back, and I hope you enjoy finding out what their futures hold.

  I wouldn’t be able to do what I do without the support of all my lovely readers. Your messages and comments mean more to me than you can ever know.

  Thank you so much for falling in love with Middle Point and my characters and putting aside some precious time in your lives to read.

  I love to hear from readers so please find me at

  www.victoriapurman.com,

  on Facebook at Victoria Purman Author or

  on Twitter @VictoriaPurman

  Happy reading!

  CONTENTS

  Also by Victoria Purman

  About the Author

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  CHAPTER

  1

  Anna Morelli plundered the deepest recesses of her brain for every Italian swear word she knew and let them rip in a furious, unadulterated tirade.

  All in her head, of course.

  The handsome-as-all-get-out charmer who was looming over her in the early morning light – tall, tanned and naked as the day he was born – had a big hand pressed firmly over her mouth. She got the clear warning in his wide-eyed stare and clenched lips. His lips. Diavolo.

  ‘What was that?’ She forced the words out in a whisper against his palm.

  He held a finger from his other hand to his own lips and raised an eyebrow. The flare of awareness in his denim-blue eyes almost sparked between them and set Anna on fire.

  They both stilled as they heard them again. Plodding footsteps on the other side of the bedroom door. Someone else was in the house.

  ‘Don’t. Say. A. Word,’ he murmured.

  Anna gripped the cool cotton sheets with shaking fingers, pulling them up to cover her breasts. She was well and truly stuck. Not between a rock and a hard place but between someone else’s sheets and utter humiliation.

  She was about to be discovered naked in bed with an almost total stranger. Joe. Joe something. Merda. She didn’t even know his last name.

  He slowly lifted his hand from her mouth and then moved over her, planting his arms on the bed, one on either side of her bare shoulders until he hovered over her. The morning light from the window shadowed across his face and he looked like a Hollywood actor in an ad for men’s cologne. The growth on his tanned jaw, his wide shoulders, his hard chest, his flat stomach.

  Anna licked her lips, which suddenly felt as though they’d been scorched by a scalding north wind. Joe watched her wet tongue slide over the plump fullness of her mouth and he seemed to see it as some kind of invitation, lowering himself until all that was between them was the sheet. Anna realised that if he stayed there much longer it would be burnt to a crisp.

  She gulped, tried to think. Which was near on impossible given the combination of chilled champagne, hot sex and naked handsome guy that had addled her brain.

  Here were the facts as she knew them.

  The night before she’d attended a wedding in the sleepy but kind of charming beachside town of Middle Point on South Australia’s Fleurieu Peninsula.

  Somewhere between sunset and sunrise she’d cried in the ladies’ loo, danced to too many ABBA songs (including Dancing Queen, twice), eaten handfuls of wedding cake with her fingers, been led astray and had survived the best, knock-your-socks-off rebound sex ever in recorded history. All with only the slightest hangover thudding behind her eyes.

  But now she had no clue where she was and, judging by the way a certain insistent part of the naked handsome guy’s anatomy was pressing against her, he wanted to repeat the many and varied events of the night before.

  Anna squeezed her eyes shut, hoping not only to block out the temptation, but also to give herself time to find her good sense.

  Unfortunately it was eight hours too late.

  ‘Get off me,’ Anna said through gritted teeth. She planted her hands on his hard muscled shoulders and shoved. She had to get him out of her line of sight and figure out a way to get him to stop looking at her like he was all the cat got the cream.

  With a raised eyebrow and a stifled laugh, Joe did as she asked, slinking backwards off the bed like a retreating tiger. He got to his feet and gripped the door handle to make sure it remained closed.

  Standing there, looking like a tanned Statue of David in every feature but one extremely important one, the man had the nerve to laugh. He scraped a hand through his hair and grinned. That made one person in the room who found some humour in the situation. In direct and shameful contrast, Anna felt humiliation and regret coagulate in the pit of her stomach.

  ‘What’s so funny?’ she mouthed in a furious whisper. Any other time, in another circumstance, a grin like that and those adorable crinkle lines around a man’s eyes would have been infectious.

  ‘I think my sister’s home.’

  ‘Your sister?’ Anna felt every hair on her body prickle.

  ‘And you’re in her bed,’ Joe informed her calmly.

  Che cazzo.

  ‘Are you telling me you live with your sister?’ What kind of loser was this guy? And exactly how drunk had she been the night before?

  ‘It’s a long story. But calm down, Anna. Lizzie won’t care
.’

  Anna’s blood pressure spiked and pounded behind her eyes. She sat bolt upright and the crisp sheet slipped down into her lap. She tugged it back up with a jerk. The move seemed to have some mysterious effect on Joe. He let go of the door and took a step back to the bed, his hands on his hips.

  Vafunculo. Anna began miming furiously and if Joe had any clue about what she was indicating, he would’ve been protecting his manhood at that very moment, instead of letting it proudly dangle free right in front of her eyes.

  Anna dropped back onto the pillow and pulled the sheet way over her head.

  Joe was Lizzie’s brother?

  Lizzie. The kind woman who’d found her crying in the ladies’ loo the night before.

  Joe was Lizzie’s brother? This circle of humiliation just got smaller and smaller. Anna’s heart raced even faster. Given the fact that they clearly weren’t alone, she couldn’t leap out of bed and demand an answer from the beautiful man who’d shagged her senseless just hours before. She couldn’t scream and shout, Italian-style, wave her hands in the air and curse him.

  Okay, so that was all a cliché. But clichés exist for a reason and she so needed to go wild and crazy Italian-style on the charming bastard who’d put her in this position. Let’s face it – many positions.

  ‘Stay there,’ Joe said, and held out a hand to emphasise his point. Damn him, he was trying not to smile. ‘I’ll go distract her.’

  ‘Okay. But, for God’s sake,’ Anna whispered with new urgency. ‘Put on some pants first.’

  He obeyed her with a smug smile, bending over to retrieve the trousers of his suit. He half-heartedly pulled them on but didn’t bother to do up the top button, which meant they slipped and hung low on his hips. Not that Anna noticed exactly how low they were but for a moment she was worried he might get something important caught in the zip and might therefore need her medical expertise.

  With a smile at the knowledge that she was checking him out all over again, he stepped into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

  Anna sank back into the pillows. How had she got here? And where exactly was here? In the daylight it was totally obvious. A quick inspection revealed it was a woman’s room. Shabby beachside chic. A well-thumbed novel on the bedside table. A pair of pink thongs neatly arranged on the rug, a white chest of drawers with framed photos on top. She’d been oblivious to all this detail when they’d stumbled back the night before, crashed onto the bed and into each other lips and hips.

  It had been dark when they’d got home from the wedding, which was a university reunion of sorts as well as a party at the Middle Point pub. She’d known the groom, Ry Blackburn, and the best man, Dan McSwaine, when they’d been university students. Dan had been her first boyfriend, although they’d been friends way longer than they’d been lovers. Julia Jones had been a gorgeous bride and Lizzie – the sister – was both bridesmaid and Dan’s new girlfriend. Lizzie had been her rescuer; when Anna had told her the reason for the tears, Lizzie had said all the things a jilted woman needed to hear.

  When Anna had finally emerged from the loo, her mascara restored if not her dignity, a guy with a smile that could melt ice offered her a glass of champagne and then asked her to dance.

  Somehow dancing had ended up as something else entirely. Had ended up as this. She yanked the sheet over her head.

  ‘Oh. My. God. What have I done? And why did it have to be with him?’

  Joe’s sexy eyes and tall, well-built body had been irresistible in the dark. Now, in the harsh Sunday morning light, they were simply ripped reminders of her shame and disgrace.

  The cold, hard truth of what she’d done was like a slap in the face.

  She’d had a one-night stand with a guy she’d picked up at a wedding.

  And she was married.

  Well … legally still married

  And now utterly humiliated.

  She reached for the St Christopher medal hanging around her neck, twisted it between her fingers for luck. For help. For advice.

  How was she going to get out of this?

  And more importantly, how would she hide it from her mother?

  CHAPTER

  2

  Joe closed the bedroom door behind him and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest. Damn. He’d hoped Anna might have acted out one of his fantasies and would be lying on the white sheets wearing nothing but a smile. But no. To his huge disappointment she was fully dressed. She’d pulled on last night’s party dress and he studied once again how it hugged her body. He openly admired the curves he’d navigated and conquered the night before. As his gaze travelled down the tight red fabric to those unbelievably sexy leopard-skin stilettos, he let out a low whistle.

  Those shoes. Hot damn. They were follow-me-home-and-fuck-me shoes.

  And they’d worked.

  When Anna tapped one toe impatiently on the wooden floor, he remembered that stiletto was Italian for ‘dagger’. And judging by the look on her face it felt like she might be about to aim one right at him.

  ‘Well? Is the coast clear?’ She looked furious and it was tantalising. Her arms were pulled tight under her breasts, anger all over that gorgeous face. Her hair spilled wildly all over her shoulders in a glossy trail and her eyes, like a black cat’s, were trained on him. Suspiciously.

  ‘Don’t worry. Lizzie’s in the shower. And if I know my sister, we’ve got at least half an hour. More if she’s washing her hair.’

  ‘That’s good. That’s very good.’ Anna turned, grabbed her huge handbag from the floor and slung it over her shoulder. He noticed it was almost as big as she was. ‘I’ve gotta get out of here.’

  ‘Anna, wait.’ Joe took a step to the left to block her path. She craned her neck to look into his eyes.

  ‘For what? I can’t let her see me here. Like this. With you.’ She eyed him up and down and swallowed. ‘Every time I’ve seen your sister I’ve humiliated myself. Last night she found me in the toilets crying and as if that wasn’t enough mortification for one weekend, if she finds me here now? With you?’ Anna threw her hands up in the air. ‘I’m outta here.’

  Joe reached out to grab Anna’s wrist and held it, gently. It was so small that his fingers met around it and then some. ‘Hey, hold on.’ He moved closer, just a little. She didn’t look at him.

  ‘Anna.’ Joe couldn’t let her go like this, angry and embarrassed. ‘What happened to you yesterday? Why were you crying in the ladies’ last night?’

  A flash of something terrible passed across her face and she shook her head. Her hair moved independently in waves with the motion. He fought back the weirdest urge to bury his fingers in it.

  ‘C’mon.’ He didn’t want her to go. Where was the rule that said a one-night stand had to end before breakfast? And anyway, he wanted her back in that bed and kind of urgently.

  ‘What?’

  ‘You don’t want to tell me what happened?’ His grip on her arm became a caress and he inched his fingers up from her wrist, past her elbow, to her bare shoulder.

  She pulled her lips together and shook him off. ‘It’s a long story, Joe.’

  ‘I love long stories. Made a living out of writing them. C’mon Anna, we haven’t even had a cup of coffee. Give me a minute to get dressed and we can go and grab one. Or, if you want, we can go back to bed …’

  She held up a hand to stop him. ‘Once was more than enough.’

  He gave her a sly grin. ‘Think it might have been more than once.’

  ‘Stop it.’ Anna stepped around him, opened the door slowly and stepped into the hallway. From two doors along, they could both make out the sound of the shower and Lizzie’s off-key singing, Dancing Queen.

  ‘Anna, wait.’ Joe stopped, suddenly confused about what to do next. He didn’t want to be a bastard about it, but he wasn’t sure anymore what to do after a one-night stand. Man, he’d been out of circulation too long. Should he get her number in case he felt like hooking up later? Should he say he’d friend her on
Facebook? ‘Where can I reach you?’

  Anna closed her eyes and seemed to shiver. ‘You can’t, Joe. Ever.’ Her stilettos clickety-clicked on the wooden floor of the hallway and she fished around in her handbag before pulling out car keys attached to a giant red plastic heart, almost as big as her hand.

  ‘Well, I don’t know about you but I thought last night was pretty damn good. Maybe we could do it again sometime.’

  ‘Joe, it was … well, it was what it was. Listen to me. What happens in Middle Point has to stay in Middle Point. Comprende?’

  Joe scratched his chin. ‘Let me assure you. I can keep secrets.’

  Anna shot him a sad look over her shoulder. ‘It had better stay secret. This was a big mistake. I’m married, Joe.’

  And then she was gone.

  Joe flopped back onto Lizzie’s bed, threaded his fingers behind his head and kicked his long legs out until his feet dangled over the end of the mattress. The faint sound of the shower, and more of Lizzie’s singing, echoed through the house. He was feeling frustrated as fuck and horny as hell. The most unpredictable, surprising night of his life was over.

  And he had no idea how he’d got here. He wasn’t looking to hook up with anyone. Hadn’t even been on his radar since he’d got back to Middle Point. A fucked-up marriage tends to do that to a bloke. While some men saw it as a new-found freedom and chased everything in a skirt, Joe felt burnt by it and had vowed to stay away from women for a while. For a long while. Truth be told, he hadn’t even wanted to go to the wedding, but being back in his hometown came with certain obligations, including being present at the wedding of his little sister’s best friend. He’d watched Julia grow up, had probably tormented her over the years as much as he had Lizzie. The evil twins, as he liked to call them, had been inseparable then and still were. And since his family now only consisted of him and his sister, he couldn’t say no to a wedding in which she was the bridesmaid.

  And as parties go, it hadn’t been too bad. Ry had opened the pub’s wine cellar, so the drinking had been excellent. The wedding ceremony had been low-key and casual, and the food was pretty good, too.