Engaging the Enemy

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Engaging the Enemy Page 6

by Susanne Bellamy


  A fierce joy flooded her being as she hugged Lexie. ‘We’ve got him.’

  ‘Which means, dear one, that he can’t do anything other than essential repair work.’

  ‘I’ll phone the TV station and you prime everyone here.’

  Lexie placed a restraining hand on her arm. ‘Uh, Andie?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘It’s two in the morning. Shall we wait until daylight?’

  ***

  Two in the morning.

  Green numbers on the digital display mocked his inability to sleep, their colour all too reminiscent of Andie’s hurt gaze when he’d held her shaking body in his arms at her father’s house. Even with his eyes closed the vibrant shimmer of her eyes taunted him and he understood something of her pain.

  You don’t care about me…us.

  Matt couldn’t put his finger on it, but there were layers and secrets threading through de Villiers’ refusal to help his own flesh and blood.

  Not your business, Mahoney.

  But a fake engagement with Trouble? Now there was excitement aplenty. Her desperation was his trump card. He still had the alternative plan of the other property and assistance in dealing with the government agency over the change of address and physical description of the centre.

  But why wouldn’t she agree to the engagement if it means keeping the building she’s so inexplicably attached to?

  He couldn’t refer to the conversation he’d overheard. Bad enough she’d thought he’d just arrived last night. Knowing he’d heard her argument with her father would make her defensive. Awkward moments abounded around Trouble.

  Trouble by name, trouble by nature.

  He rubbed a hand over his chest. He hadn’t anticipated the physical pain of her accusation. You’re just like him.

  I’m not. Can’t she see I care?

  Matt leaned up on his elbow and thumped his pillow then sighed. He swung his legs over the side of the king-size bed then padded across the cool, polished floor boards and down the hall to the kitchen.

  Under-cabinet LED lighting picked up glints in the dark marble counter top as he took down a mug and the box of teabags and boiled the water.

  Mug of steaming tea in hand, he strolled through to the office and turned on his laptop. Scrolling through the list of properties owned by his company, he considered the alternatives. Williamstown had become desirable, largely for its ocean proximity, but there remained pockets of properties still awaiting development. Like his. None of his holdings was more suitable and there were no applicable planning restrictions on usage.

  If she didn’t go for the engagement idea, would she still accept this offer? He couldn’t turn the families out of his building without offering a reasonable alternative but he wanted to convince Trouble that the better choice lay in them both having access to the building. How far was she prepared to go to save their accommodation?

  It was clear the building meant something more to Andie than a job. Already he understood it meant people she cared for, felt responsible for. People who cared for her. Something she didn’t seem to have at home.

  Pressure carefully applied before he presented the engagement would test the extent of her resolve. It had to be enough to convince her to accept his proposition, though why he wanted it so much, he refused to consider. Only the thought of Andie’s ripe lips, his for the taking, beckoned like a siren call.

  Her play-acting his bride-to-be for the building? The trade-off seemed very fair.

  Chapter Eight

  Andie smoothed anxious fingers over the calico cushions on the sofa, grabbed a plumped pillow and hugged it tightly.

  What does Mahoney want? Why did he ring so early?

  She reached for her glass of water. At the thought of meeting him alone, her hand shook and she spilled a few drops down her paisley patterned shirt. She flicked the offending drops off. The pattern hid the splashes but she doubted her ability to hide her nerves as well.

  But you have to delay him till Lexie arrives with the media. Then there’ll be nowhere for him to hide. If Mahoney wants to boot us out, he’ll do it in the full glare of the public spotlight.

  Revenge would be sweet when they showed him up as the heartless vandal he was. Together, she and Lexie could do it. But where was her best friend?

  Andie picked up her mobile phone and selected Lexie’s number on speed dial. The call went straight to voice mail. She hit the end call button and shoved the phone back in her pocket.

  ‘Lexie, where are you? I can’t meet him alone.’

  But is that the only reason I’m anxious?

  Restless with memories of his fingers tracing her jaw, his mouth so close that a slight movement would have touched her lips to his, she’d tossed and turned until dawn light filtered through the open curtains.

  What am I thinking? I can’t want him. Enemy, remember?

  Still unable to settle, she paced to the window. A car door slammed and she bit the corner of the cushion. A shiver ran up her spine and she held her breath, listening for his footsteps.

  Reluctantly, she lowered the cushion and dropped it on the sofa. It bounced onto the floor as she pressed her hands against the butterflies fluttering madly in her stomach.

  It was Mahoney. Who else would it be at this hour?

  She’d prefer a firing squad to one Irishman with midnight-blue eyes and a smile to charm her. A smile that warmed some deep part of her heart and thawed the cold. A smile she couldn’t allow to sway her into thinking she wanted him. If she let him charm her, then she was a fool with no more sense than a baby.

  Andie drew a deep breath and walked out to open the front door.

  Enemy, remember. Now, smile.

  She plastered on a megawatt smile. Her jaw ached with the concentrated effort as she tugged the heavy door open.

  ‘Mr Mahoney, glad you could make it. Please come in.’

  Her nose should be ten feet long after that greeting.

  Deep blue eyes bored into hers, as though he could see right into her fevered thoughts. Would Mahoney buy her fake sincerity?

  ‘Miss de Villiers, good morning.’ He hesitated on the top step, nodded and stepped inside, his expression shuttered once more.

  She closed the door and dug her nails into her palms. With a resigned shrug, she gestured for him to precede her into the day room. A floor board creaked under his feet and she prayed his weight wouldn’t send him crashing through the floor.

  ‘Please sit down.’ She indicated the most respectable chair and backed up until her calves hit the edge of the ancient purple futon. Her heel clipped the cane leg and the futon scraped on the bare floor board.

  Great impression of being in control. Now all you need do is trip over the rug and fall flat on your face at his feet.

  She groped for the chair, holding on for dear life as she gingerly perched on the edge and tugged her short skirt as far down her thighs as she could. Why had she allowed vanity to dictate her wardrobe? Ankles crossed, she angled her legs away from him.

  His eyes remained firmly on her face. To give the man some credit, he appeared not to have noticed her stumble.

  She cleared her throat and tucked a stray curl behind her ear. ‘Hasn’t the weather turned warm for this time of year?’

  ‘The weather?’ He frowned, and tiny crinkles edged his eyes. He maintained eye contact as he lowered himself into the Genoa armchair.

  ‘Of course, it is spring so why wouldn’t it be warm?’

  ‘As you say—’

  Under other circumstances, she’d almost have felt sorry for Mahoney dealing with her feverish attempts at conversational procrastination. Laughter bubbled up, threatening to upset her control.

  ‘And have you seen the Fitzroy Gardens? They’re blooming. Why, just last weekend…’ For the life of her she couldn’t prevent the words spilling out.

  Mahoney eased back into the chair, his look never moving from her face. With languid grace, he rested one arm along the back of the chair.

&n
bsp; Heat raged in her cheeks. Would she never learn self control and calm?

  ‘Miss de Villiers.’ His tone was gentle and firm and it stopped her dead.

  ‘Yes, Mr Mahoney?’

  Did he know what she was trying to do? He couldn’t know.

  Andie, you are so paranoid.

  ‘Do I make you nervous?’

  She gulped back an embarrassed cough. If only he knew the images in her dreams, and his starring role. Temptation flared, coursing through her veins.

  ‘Of course not. Why would I be nervous?’

  ‘I can think of one or two reasons.’ He smiled.

  Unable to prevent herself, she stared at his lips. Two very good reasons indeed. He knew how to charm women.

  ‘I promise I’ll not be gobbling you up, though by the way you’re gripping the edge of that seat you don’t seem to believe so.’

  ‘Mister Mahoney! You’re so full of yourself. How do you fit your head through a doorway?’

  He held his hands out, palms forward. ‘Miss de Villiers, relax. I come in peace. You have a problem. I can fix it.’

  Last night he’d threatened eviction and today he was Mr Fix-it? Head spinning, she’d be lucky to come out of this meeting with no more than whiplash.

  ‘You’re going to let us stay? Oh, I knew—’

  ‘Hold on there a minute, Trouble. I didn’t say—’

  ‘You said you can fix it. What else could you mean?’

  ‘I can fix it. If you give me a chance, I’ll explain how.’

  Her heart thudded fit to jump out of her chest. Families could stay together, she could keep her promise and they wouldn’t have to move.

  ‘You need a guaranteed place for your accreditation to be approved, don’t you?’

  Andie bit her lip and wondered where he’d got that titbit from. Nobody beside her and Lexie knew just how much was riding on their lean operation, so how had Mahoney acquired his facts? Last night he’d looked ready to—

  Last night he’d visited her home.

  My father?

  They’d discussed her? Anger burned as hot as her cheeks. Mahoney had come to her home to snoop and her father had told him everything. Just one more betrayal on the mountain of lies.

  ‘He told you, didn’t he?’ She jumped up and paced across the room then turned on him. ‘You asked my father how to get rid of us and cooked up some scheme between you. Well it won’t work.’

  Surprise widened his eyes then his jaw tightened. ‘I didn’t discuss your operation here with anyone.’

  ‘Of course not. You were only invited to my father’s house for a social chat and a beer. It would never occur to you to ask him how to get rid of me…us, would it?’

  She dragged in a breath, her chest tight with the pain of betrayal. Her vision blurred and she turned her back and quickly scrubbed her hands over her face.

  I should be used to it by now, but I won’t let them win. I can’t.

  She straightened her shoulders and turned back. One step, two. Dark grey designer suit and paisley tie filled her vision. Mahoney blocked her path. With a jolt, she stopped just short of falling into his arms.

  Again.

  Her nose was level with the middle of his chest and she tipped her head back to look at his face. Neither of them moved. She glared as light from the window behind her brightened Mahoney’s eyes, midnight blue and bright as the Aurora Australis.

  Illogical, inconvenient and burning attraction flared between them. Enemies they might be, but the bond that drew her to him was primitive and strong. Her heart pounded and an overwhelming desire to take that last half step into his arms flowed through her.

  It can’t be happening.

  She tightened her leg muscles and folded her arms across her chest.

  Resist him.

  Desperate to control this craving for him, she barely registered what he said.

  ‘My company deals with city council forms all the time. It doesn’t take a genius to know that applications like yours depend on a number of factors. One of them, Trouble, is a suitable location.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘And in case you’re thinking other indelicate thoughts about what you’d like to do to me’ — he raised his eyebrows and glanced at her clenched fists — ‘let me finish with an offer.’

  ‘Yes.’ Her voice came out in a breathless rush. Yes, to any offer he made with that mouth.

  His lips twitched.

  Was he laughing at her?

  ‘Since you’ve agreed so nicely, I might be tempted to offer something other than what I planned.’

  He wasn’t touching her, not physically, yet each sweep of his eyes over her face was like a caress. She stared at his lips. Full, firm and smiling down at her. Her own lips parted. Just a little step forward and…

  ‘Trouble, are you listening to me?’

  Andie blinked, touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth and cleared her throat.

  Where had all the air gone?

  The room spun and she edged behind the futon and clutched the curved cane back. An ocean would not be enough to put out the sparks zapping between them.

  In so many ways he was Wrong Matt. And don’t you want him to be Mr Right? Think with your brain, Andie.

  He stood still in front of her, smiling. At her obvious attraction to him? Had she made a complete fool of herself already?

  Obviously he wasn’t affected by her presence. She swallowed the knowledge.

  ‘You’re such a babe in the woods when it comes to men, Andie.’ Lexie’s past gibe taunted her.

  ‘I meant to make that an interrogative “yes” actually. So, what are you offering’ — she swallowed the word ‘me’ before she could disgrace herself further — ‘The Shelter?’

  He shoved both hands into his pockets and shrugged elegantly. ‘A property, more suitable than this one. It has enough land attached that you could set up an outdoor play area — something that’s missing here — but could seal the deal for you. That would look grand on your application.’

  What did she need to say?

  ‘But our application is for this address.’

  ‘You can change the location. It’s not difficult. A small fee and, what is it you Aussies say — Bob’s your uncle?’

  ‘Any changes to the paperwork and we were told we’d have to start over. We can’t afford to do that. We need that accreditation now, and the money that comes with it to fund our service.’

  Think, Andie. Tell him what’s important.

  ‘The families here depend on us to keep them together.’ Good, she was back on track, back to business.

  ‘I could help you amend your application without any time penalty.’

  The prospect was tempting. To lay down the worry of struggling to make ends meet on a budget of zero dollars. But at what cost?

  My dream. My chance of showing my father I could achieve something meaningful without help.

  Could she give that up?

  If it was for the good of the families who needed them. Was Mahoney’s offer good for The Shelter?

  ‘Why, Mr Mahoney? Why are you offering this deal now? I mean, it’s good that you are but you weren’t interested in us a few days ago. So what’s changed?’

  Mahoney sat back into the Genoa and crossed his legs. ‘I’ve seen that you mean well but you could use some assistance. I’m in a position to help.’

  Like a slap in the face, the spell he’d cast over her disintegrated. The walls closed in and she shivered.

  He thought she needed assistance?

  He was offering help — just like her father who offered with one hand and took away with the other. How, for even a single moment, could she have forgotten? Last night she’d told Mahoney he was just like her father. Nothing since had changed her mind. To both men, she was just poor little Andrea who needed looking after.

  Well, she wasn’t. She’d show them. Both of them. This time, they’d underestimated her.

  She and Lexie would use the media and s
how the world that Mahoney was an environmental vandal and a bully and, and… Andie stiffened her spine. She raised her chin and looked him right in the eye. He looked so smug, so sure of himself and his offer.

  I’ll show you, Mr Big Shot.

  ‘I’m not falling for that again. We don’t need your help, Mahoney. We don’t want it and we don’t want you. Just leave.’

  His eyes narrowed on hers. ‘Well, there’s a turnaround. A few minutes ago you were excited at the prospect of saving The Shelter. Now?’

  ‘Now I know what you’re offering and I’m rejecting it.’

  ‘Why are you so prickly, Trouble? What do you think the deal is?’

  ‘There’s no deal between us. You think you can have it all your way, well, you can’t. Just you wait and see. The building is ours to the end of this month, as per our agreement with the previous owner. We’re not leaving and you can’t make us.’

  He ran a hand through his hair, the mussed hair at odds with his suave, suited appearance. A muscle twitched beside his mouth and his lips thinned as he frowned.

  ‘Bejeezus, I don’t understand you. The building is mine, all legal and binding and you are derelict in paying rent. You’ve no money to catch up arrears and you fling a genuine offer of assistance back at me like you’ve not a care in the world?’

  ‘I know what’s right. Turning us out so you can do as you damn well please with this beautiful old building is wrong and we won’t let you get away with it.’

  ‘Are you prepared to lose The Shelter just because you don’t like me?’

  ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I don’t like bossy men, period. And we won’t lose.’

  ‘You’ve no legal leg to stand on, Trouble. But it’s more than that. And the only reason I can see is that this building means more to you than just your work.’

  Startled by his perception, Andie couldn’t speak. Was she so transparent that this virtual stranger could see into her insecurity? Working moisture back into her dry mouth, she reached deep for her anger again.

  ‘You don’t know anything about me.’

  ‘I want to. I want to know what this place means to you. Not as The Shelter that you run for mums and their kids, and not as the place you work in.’

 

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