Seducing Sam
Seducing Sam
By
Angela Verdenius
(BBW Romance)
Copyright 2013 Angela Verdenius
Cover image courtesy of Luka TBD & istock
Cover by Joleene Naylor
ebook Edition License Notes
No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without prior consent of the author & publisher.
All characters and towns are figments of the author’s imagination and bear no resemblance to any person living or deceased.
Table of Contents
Foreword
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Bio
Other Books by this Author
Foreword
I found that some overseas readers were having difficulty with the Australian slang, so I thought a list of the slang I’ve used will help while reading the following story. If I’ve forgotten any, I do apologise! Also, you’ll find some of our Aussie words have different spelling to the US.
* please note that sizes in the US and Australia differ, so when reading of a set dress size, check the conversion on-line if you want!
Cheers,
Angela
Australian Terms/Slang
Arvo - afternoon
Barbie - BBQ
Beaut - beautiful, awesome, great, wonderful
Bewdy - as in ‘awsome, great’
Biccies - biscuits. The same as cookies
Bikie - biker, person who rides motorcycles.
Bloke/s - man/men
Bloody - a swear word ‘no bloody good’, in place of ‘no damned good’
Boofhead - idiot, simpleton, etc. It’s an insult, though sometimes we use it as a term of affection. It depends on how it is said and meant.
Boot (of a car) - trunk
Budgie smugglers - men’s bathers, small, brief and tight-fitting
Buggered - many Aussie use it as a slang word for ‘broken’ (it’s buggered), ‘tired (I’m buggered), and ‘no way’ (I’m buggered if I’m going to do that). Just some examples
Bung/Bunging - as in ‘bunging onto something’, putting on something (bung veggies on a plate, putting veggies on a plate), usually in a careless or ‘easy’ manner.
Chemist - pharmacy
Chips - in Australia we have cold crunchy chips from a packet, or hot chips known in some countries as French Fries
Crash cart - resuscitation trolley in a hospital or medical setting - used for life threatening situations such as cardiac arrest
Dander – temper
Dill - silly, idiot
Doona - like a padded quilt that fits inside a cover and lies on the bed. Can have the warmth of two, three or four blankets, etc.
Donger - penis. Also another meaning is a place people sometimes sleep in, such as ‘dongers’ on mine sites.
Dunny - toilet. When used in the terms ‘built like a brick dunny’, it refers to something built solid, unmoveable.
Garbo/s - the person/s who drive and/or load garbage onto the garbage truck.
Giggle-box - TV, television
Got his/her/their goat – annoyed him/her/them
Hoon/s - person/people who indulge in antisocial behaviour. Great explanation in Wikipedia
Iced coffee/chocolate - a milk drink flavoured with chocolate or coffee
Lolly - sweetie, candy
Loo - toilet
Lug - face
Milo - chocolate malt drink. Can have it hot or cold. Yummy!
Moosh - slang for face/mouth
Mobile phone - cell phone
Nong - idiot
Nooky - sex
Panadol - paracetamol, similar to Tylenol in the US
Pav/s - Pavlova/Pavlovas - best dessert ever!
PCYC - Police and Citizens Youth Club
Pedal Pushers - three quarter pants/knickerbockers
Porking - having sex
Primapore - sticky patch with a pad in it, a medical dressing
Pub – hotel
Quack – derogatory term for a doctor
RAC - Royal Automobile Club of Western Australia. Covers insurance, holidays, loans, etc
Red backs - poisonous spider, black in colour with a red stripe on its back.
Rotty – Rottweiler breed of dog.
Rubbers – condoms
Seasol - gardening mix used to nourish plants
Servo - service station
Shag - sex
Sheila – female
Slab – carton of beer.
Snaggers - sausages
Soft drink - soda, fizzy drink
Tea - some people call the evening meal dinner. In my family, we’ve always called it tea, as in breaky, dinner and tea, or breaky, lunch and tea.
Thongs - worn on the feet, same as ‘flip flops’
Tickled pink - delighted
Tim Tams - a brand of Arnott’s Biscuits. Yummy!
TLC - Tender Loving Care
Togs - bathers
Torch - flashlight
Tucker – food
Twistie – a brand of cheese-flavoured snack food – very yummy!
Ute - small truck
Vegemite - most Aussies find this spread yummy, many non-Aussies find it too salty. Here’s the hint - if you ever have Vegemite, use it spread thinly, never thickly!
Yamaha & Suzuki - ‘brands’ of motorcycles.
You wally - silly
Wanger - penis
Waterworks - crying
Whopper - a lie
Driving - In Australia, you cannot get a driver’s licence to drive a car until you are 17 years old. You get your Learner’s Permit (which requires you to drive only in the company of a qualified driver), then at 18 you can go for your Probationary licence (you can drive on your own but at restricted speed limits), and then finally you are a fully qualified driver.
Chapter 1
“Bugger me dead!” Dropping the box onto the veranda with a loud clatter, Carly clasped her hand in the other and squeezed it between her thighs in a vain attempt to stop the pain.
A natural instinct that actually didn’t work, though almost everyone did it.
She knew she had to check the damage, but it hurt so damned much that she didn’t want to look. At the very least, it was a deep cut. At the most, half of her hand was going to fall off. Neither was something she wanted to see.
“Shit shit shit!” Biting her lip, she leaned back against the wall. Looking down, she could see blood staining her pale blue pedal pushers. In fact, a slip of blood was dripping from between her clenched hands. “Uh-oh.”
Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. She had to look, had to see what the damage was, and after she finished picking up her half a hand off the veranda - for sure half was going to fall off as soon as she unclenched her thighs from around them - she would phone Ed, make him return right now, and kill him.
Steeling herself for the worst, she took another deep breath and-
“Are you all right, honey?” The deep voice came from above her.
Surely it couldn’t be…
“You’ve cut yourself.” A big hand came to rest on her back.
Big feet clad only in a pair of thongs appeared to her gaze. Oh great. Lifting her head, she looked up a pair of long, muscular legs to find herself on level with the half fastened fly on a baggy pair of cargo shorts. Craning her head, she looked higher. Yep, there was that incredible six pack and further up a pair of impressive pecs. Big, broad shoulders. She couldn’t straighten much further without unclenching her thighs, but there was no doubting the identity of the man.
&nbs
p; The imbecile from across the road, Sam Willow. Big, dumb, Sam Willow. Built like a wet dream and as thick as two bricks.
In the short time she’d been intermittently here unpacking, she’d seen him searching for his shovel, his glasses, his hat, his water bottle, and his cat, who’d been sitting on the swing chair on the veranda. Beside his probably forgotten book.
Ed had come in chortling the night before to tell her that Sam had, apparently, forgotten his date, too. She’d been knocking on his door and he’d appeared wearing a pair of boxers and nothing else, a totally befuddled look on his handsome face.
Great body, handsome face, empty head. Shame, but there you have it.
It figured that her luck would go like this. Just when she needed someone who knew what they were doing, when her hand was going to probably fall off, she had the dumb ox of the neighbourhood telling her the obvious. He’d probably sticky tape it up for her, if he didn’t faint first.
“I’m fine,” she said.
“You’re bleeding.”
“You don’t say.”
A sudden move and then he was crouched in front of her, startling her when his face appeared right in her line of vision.
Dumb he might be, but she had to admit that up close he was one fine looking bloke. Shoulder length, sun-streaked, sandy hair fastened at his nape, thick-lashed, hazel eyes that up close were almost startling, especially when she saw the emerald flecks within the grey, the sudden intensity in those eyes. A straight nose and a mouth that was pure masculine beauty - full yet firm. Throw in the cleft in his chin and a square jaw that added strong character, and he was incredibly handsome in a fresh, sunny, surfie way.
It was the first time she’d seen him up close and her breath caught. Damn, those rugged looks and that even more rugged body was a sin, so wasted on an airhead. Such a crying shame.
One big hand came out, the muscles in his arm flexing, his fingers long and firm as he took hold of her wrist. “Show me.”
Blinking back her dazed awe, she came back to reality. “I’m fine.”
“I won’t hurt you.”
Oh, those words were like honey. No, wait, his voice was like honey, all warm and soothing. His grip, however, while gentle, she couldn’t help but notice was sure, those long fingers wrapping around her wrist as though he wasn’t going to tolerate any resistance.
The hell if she was going to allow this big, yummy, dumb ox to try and control her. “I said, I’m fine.” Straightening, Carly unclenched her thighs and jerked her hand away, only to blink and gape at her hand. Holy Hannah, how much blood was there? “Freakin’ heck, my hand is going to fall off!”
Now two big hands had hold of hers, one around her wrist, the other cupping the back of her hand as Sam studied her throbbing and bloodied palm as though he knew what he was doing. “You might need stitches.”
“What?” She jerked at her hand. “No!”
“I’ll take you to the hospital and-”
“No. No way.” She tried to wrench her hand away, only to gasp at the pain.
Those thick lashes lifted and Sam looked her squarely in the eyes. “Honey, it’s going to be all right.”
“I am not going to the hospital and that’s final.” She set her jaw. “I can fix this. Honestly.”
Looking on the bright side, at least half her hand wasn’t falling off. That had to be a bonus. On this whole miserable day it had to be the one thing that shone brightly.
Sam didn’t waste time. One smooth motion and he pushed upright, but instead of releasing her hand, he kept it cradled in his and placed his other hand at her back, turning her with what she could swear was a practiced move, and proceeded to use his body to usher her ahead of him into the house.
“What the-” she began.
“Kitchen?”
She tried to dig in her heels. “Look, I-”
“Kitchen?”
“Really, I-”
“Honey, where is the kitchen?”
When she looked up at him - and she had to tip her head back to do so, hell, he was tall - it was to find him looking down at her with quiet determination. Okay, that was unexpected.
“Umm…end of the hall.” When he proceeded to usher her along, she started to protest, “Look, I can do this myself. You really don’t need to worry.”
Without answering, he took her right into the kitchen and led her across to the sink, standing beside her as he angled her hand under the tap and turned on the water.
It hit her palm in a gentle stream and she cursed.
“Let’s have a look.” He angled her hand this way and that, the water washing the blood away, more trickling in its place.
Deciding there was no point fighting him, Carly did as bidden, and slowly she realised that Sam did, indeed, seem to know what he was doing. He studied her palm intently, his focus on the long, deep cut.
Standing so close beside him - okay, right up against him, to be truthful - she suddenly became aware of his clean, male scent. His skin was warm where her arm brushed against him, a shiver of something a little hotter stirring at her loins. Whoa.
And then whoa again, but for an entirely different reason. Now she could see the cut, and it was long, it was deep, and she felt a little faint.
Refusing to show it, she managed to say airily, “See? Not as bad as we thought.”
He shifted slightly and she glanced up to see him gazing down at her intently. “Not as good, either.”
“But not as bad.”
“Hmmm.” He glanced around. “Where are your clean tea towels?”
Reaching to the side, she opened the drawer and pulled one out.
Taking it from her, he wrapped it around her hand. “Press on this, it’ll help stop the bleeding.”
She obeyed, wincing a little.
“This may need stitches.”
“No.”
“It won’t hurt.”
“That’s right, it won’t, because I’m not getting stitches.”
Sam looked down at her, and she met his gaze full on.
“Not happening,” she said when he opened his mouth.
“Okay.” He led her back to the table and sat her down. “First aid kit?”
“Don’t have one.” At his raised eyebrows, she added, “Well, I do, but it could be in any of the boxes, or even still at the old place.”
“I’ll be back.” He left the room.
Sitting at the table, the only sound the ticking of the kitchen clock on the wall, Carly stared at her tea-towel wrapped hand. Well, wonders would never cease. Her hand hadn’t fallen off, and Sam might not be such a moron after all. If nothing else, she had some eye candy to console herself while he possibly mangled her hand.
Talk about being the bitch of the day.
Sighing, Carly rolled her shoulders backward and forward to ease the tension. He was only trying to be nice, that was all, no mistaking it. An ironic smile twisted her lips. While she regarded him as dumb eye candy, he probably regarded her as the complete opposite - an obnoxious round ball, perhaps?
A noise in the hallway announced Sam’s return, and she turned to see him enter holding a large first aid box in one big hand.
“Quite a collection you have there.” She eyed it as he set it on the table and opened the lid, drawing out a top tray to reveal a multitude of dressings and bandages beneath it.
“Always be prepared,” he replied.
“Boy Scout?”
“How did you guess?”
“Stab in the dark.”
Smiling, he unwrapped her hand. “New to the neighbourhood?”
“How did you guess?”
He slanted her a look that wasn’t entirely easy-going, a fact that had her blinking just a little. Maybe Sam wasn’t as dumb as she first thought.
“Yes.” Surprisingly unable to hold his gaze, she cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m new.”
“It’s a nice area.” Pulling the tea towel away, he placed it on the table and studied her hand.
Leaning
forward, Carly studied her palm. Ewww. “Glad to hear it.” At least it wasn’t bleeding so much now.
Sam sloshed some kind of solution into a small plastic dish, and, with dexterity, he proceeded to use a pair of tweezers to dip and squeeze out some gauze. Attention on her palm, he dabbed the cut.
Carly bit her lip at the slight sting.
“Planning on staying long?” Sam queried as he cleaned the cut.
“For a while.”
“Alone?”
Now she eyed him warily. “No.”
“Kids?”
“Is this an inquisition?”
One brow arched as he glanced at her. “Just being friendly.”
His expression was so open and pleasant that she felt a rush of shame. Good lord, she hadn’t been this bitchy in a long time. She’d hurt herself, and while Sam was doing a remarkably good job of patching her up, she was being snarky. Nothing was his fault.
It was time to pull her head in, get a grip, and be a grown-up.
Taking a deep breath, she blew it out slowly and attempted a smile. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m just tired.”
“Moving will do that to you.” He removed several small strips of some kind of tape from a packet and proceeded to place them across the cut on her palm, drawing the edges of the cut together and effectively sealing it. “Are you doing it alone?”
“For now. Ed will be home soon.” She hoped. The moron was taking his time.
“I can help in the meantime.” Deftly, he placed a wide, white, sticky plaster with a pad of some kind on her palm, covering the strips and the cut.
“No, it’s fine.” Wiggling her fingers, Carly admired the job. “This is pretty good.”
“I’d hope so.” He started to clean up the bits of paper.
Reaching out, she took the scraps. “You’ve patched me up. I can do that.”
“It’s no problem.” Straightening, he turned headed over to the little bin, dumping the contents inside before returning to the table.
Studying him as he repacked the first aid kit, she wondered where he’d learned to do such good first aid work. “I suppose you’ve taken classes.”