Perched high on a limestone outcrop, the house commanded a view over the town, but mostly it turned to the ocean and brought that wild freedom into the home.
‘Wow.’
‘That’s why I bought it.’ Zane stood behind her as she stared at the view. She felt his chest heave and his arms tighten. ‘It’s home, but it’s also stunning. No better place, anywhere.’
He kissed her throat, the curve of her shoulder. ‘Come upstairs. I want to love you.’
They made love in his bedroom with the curtains open and the bright light of late afternoon streaming in. She hadn’t a chance to feel shy or self-conscious. His appreciation of her was too obvious. He didn’t just make love. He worshipped her body. And she lost herself in her response, needing to give him everything. With Zane, there were no limits.
Later they made dinner together and watched the sun set over the ocean
She smiled at him as he smothered a yawn. ‘You’re jetlagged.’
‘Nah. You wore me out. Be gentle with me this time.’
She accepted the invitation and challenge, but it ought to have come with a warning. Sex between them had been passionate, addictive. Making love to him while he watched her was simply intimate. This time, wanting him grew into a piercing pain, too sweet to be refused, but life-changing.
She took him into her body, filling herself with him, and leaned forward to kiss him. Her hair spilled over his chest and she liked that. She was taking – claiming – every part of him she could.
He kissed her deep and began to move.
Moonlight turned the bedroom to silver and shadows. It streamed in the nearest window and laid a bar across the bed, one that she moved in and out of as she rode him. She sat up, arching back as she ground down.
‘Beautiful,’ he said.
His voice took her over the edge.
When she came down, he rolled them over and drove in, picking up the pace till he found it, too. And she came again.
***
Filming a series of advertisements wasn’t as exciting as it sounded, although the locals were intrigued. The mayor was over the moon at the publicity for Jardin Bay.
Molly sat in the sand dunes and watched Zane run up the beach, surfboard under one arm.
‘Cut,’ the director shouted.
Zane planted the surfboard in the sand and grimaced at her.
She wrinkled her nose back at him. It was Saturday morning, the sun was shining and she was with him. The week had been awesome.
The film crew had been busy. Zane had made his training sessions do double duty as footage for the advertisements. The crew had filmed other colour shots, too, including one of Molly yesterday evening. Not up close, but in a clinch with Zane on the beach, and then, of them walking away from the camera together, hand in hand.
In real life, once the cameras were off, she and Zane had shared dinner with the crew. But then they’d left them to drink at the pub while they’d gone back to Zane’s house and lived the promise of that sunset kiss.
Molly shivered, just thinking of it. Nothing had ever, could ever, be as perfect as loving Zane.
A man sat down beside her, stretching out tanned legs — though with knobbly knees — and sitting a bit too close for a stranger.
‘Hi, Molly.’
She stared at him. He wasn’t a local or anyone she knew, so hearing him say her name was plain creepy. Creepy. Oh yes, she did know him. Her body tightened and she had to control the reflex to shrink back.
He was the sleazy journalist from that media pack back at the skate park opening. What had the other journalist called him?
Tony.
‘Hi,’ she said noncommittally.
‘Your boyfriend’s doing well. A natural in front of the camera. Must be nice for him, picking up a million here and there for smiling and flexing his muscles.’
Tony was only a couple of years older than Zane and a couple of inches shorter. He was okay looking, but the sour note in his voice was reflected in the dissatisfied twist to his mouth.
Molly looked back at Zane who, head bent, was listening to the director. ‘Zane works hard. The publicity thing isn’t easy.’
‘It is when you’re a natural liar.’
She faced him. A mistake.
He’d been waiting for her attention. He grinned, and it wasn’t nice. ‘Zane’s riding high and he doesn’t much care who he uses to stay there.’
Molly dug her toes into the white sand. As much as she wanted to defend Zane, working for a politician had taught her enough to know to shut up around journalists, especially those with an axe to grind.
And Tony’s axe was spitting sparks.
‘Why are you here?’ she asked. There wasn’t enough of a story in Zane filming an advertisement to warrant attention from a national sports writer.
‘Background and a few photos.’ He held up the camera in his far hand.
Ugh. It was too easy to imagine Tony as a peeping tom.
She stood and brushed the sand off her shorts. ‘Well, enjoy your stay in Jardin Bay.’
‘I intend to.’
***
Zane frowned as he watched Molly stalk away from the pest, Tony Umble. Beach sand made stalking difficult and her flip-flops didn’t help, but Molly got the message across.
She was displeased and in retreat. A group of senior citizens had set up with deck chairs and thermoses to enjoy the action. Molly joined them. Smart.
‘Just that,’ the director was still talking. ‘Two sentences, straight at the camera. Then hold your smile while we pan the scene. You were right about the light here. Great location.’
Zane ran through the segment three times. When he’d first stood in front of the camera, nerves had frozen his expression, but the make-up artist on the shoot had been kind as well as professional. ‘Forget the camera. Talk to the person who’ll be watching the show at home. Their expectations of you are pretty much nil, so get over yourself.’
He’d gotten over himself and learned to ignore the fuss.
Being in front of the camera was part of his job. He did it and moved on.
By the time the director agreed to wrap things up, Tony Umble was long gone.
‘What did he say?’ Zane demanded of Molly.
‘Forget him. He’s a miserable worm who resents your fabulousness.’ She put an arm around his waist and leant into him.
‘My fabulousness?’ He let the topic of Tony go. If she wasn’t upset, he was cool with it.
‘Your fantabulousness.’ She smiled up at him.
He had to kiss her.
They had four days left and then he’d be flying straight to Hawaii. They were making every second count.
That didn’t mean he could avoid his granddad. Tom seemed to grudgingly accept Zane’s relationship with Molly, but there was still tension there. It was like the old man held a watching brief, just waiting for Zane to step out of line.
He wasn’t the only one feeling protective.
Zane had seen Molly’s parents around town and at her house. The promptness with which they’d arrived five minutes after he and Molly pulled in the driveway to pack more of her gear for her stay at his house meant he suspected one of her neighbours of surveillance and informing.
Not that he minded.
It was cute and something more seeing Molly look momentarily as if she’d like to hide him behind the sofa, then straighten her shoulders and introduce him to her parents with shy pride.
Colin and Rachel Georgiou knew their daughter. They knew he was important to her and they were checking him out. He understood and respected family concern.
The hilarious part was that his surfing success meant less to them than the fact they knew his granddad and liked him. They knew his brother, too. Then again, the Georgiou’s owned the local bait shop and Brodie spent his holidays fishing. Apparently his family were pluses on his report card.
No one mentioned his dad, Rob.
Now he and Molly were going to have her parents an
d his granddad over for a barbeque. He had never entertained a girlfriend’s parents before, but it had been his idea. It had just seemed natural to invite them. Colin had said he’d bring the fish.
Tom was bringing his two dogs.
***
Molly closed the door of the dishwasher and switched it on. Then she stood there a moment, just absorbing the impossible happiness of the moment.
Dinner had been awesome.
Her dad had brought a large snapper wrapped in foil and stuffed with her mum’s mix of herbs and lemon. It baked in Zane’s super-duper barbeque while her lamb and chicken kebabs grilled. She’d made two types of salad — Greek, of course — and rice with a sweet chilli zing in the dressing. Plus baked potatoes with all the fixings. For dessert she’d bought a Black Forest gateau.
Everyone ate heaps and they talked. She couldn’t believe how well Zane and her dad got along. They didn’t connect over surfing or fishing, their two separate passions, but over boats. Zane was thinking of buying one. Colin had definite opinions. Then any lull in the conversation was filled with discussions of Big Swamp and the cave Annie and Mrs Li had found.
Tom intended to climb down into it.
‘I’ll be in a harness,’ he said when Molly and her mum objected.
Zane just grinned and shook his head.
Colin looked interested. ‘I’ll go with you. Gotta know about the cave I’ll be directing tourists to.’
Rachel shook her head at her husband. ‘A transparent excuse if ever I heard one.’
‘What about you, Zane?’ Colin asked.
‘My next visit.’ He leaned back, arm along Molly’s chair. ‘I’m flat out the next couple of days, then gone.’
That was the only down moment of the evening: the reminder that while their lives were bound in Jardin Bay, Zane was a world traveller.
But they all recovered, although Molly saw her parents and Tom study her face. She was careful to keep her expression serene. She didn’t need them to worry about her. She’d known going into this relationship that there was a high risk of heartache. Long distance relationships were notoriously difficult.
‘Coffee.’ Zane interrupted her thoughts. ‘If you carry out your parents’, I’ve got Tom’s and the cake.’
They were eating outside. The sunset had been brilliant. Now Zane had put on the outdoor heater and the bug zapper, keeping the comfort level luxurious.
‘This is lovely, darling,’ Rachel said.
Molly put the coffee mugs down and gave her mum a shoulder hug. The words were for more than the cake. They approved of the meal, the evening, her relationship with Zane. Everything.
She looked up to find Zane’s gaze on her.
It was real and serious, and when they returned to the kitchen for their coffees and the cake plates, he caught her close and kissed her hard.
Yes, life was good.
Molly had a second helping of the Black Forest gateau.
Chapter 13
‘I don’t believe it.’ The sick feeling in Molly’s stomach intensified. Her photo was on the front page of the weekend paper. It wasn’t the main photo. It was a teaser to read an in-depth article, ‘Zane’s Small Town Girl’.
No journalist had interviewed her. She hadn’t posed for any photos. But there she was.
The pages of the newspaper crumpled as she flicked through for the story.
Her stomach cramped and the salt taste of tears filled her mouth. The article took her and Zane’s new romance, and twisted and tore it into ugliness.
The story mentioned Zane’s success as a surfer, but focussed on how he leveraged that for sponsorship and money. A lot was made of how he picked up Cloo-in’s million dollar backing after their existing celebrity sports star self-destructed.
‘Zane Carlton confirmed his status as role-model material with his newest girlfriend, Molly Georgiou. A small town girl, a sweet, shy, tireless worker for her community, Molly fits Zane’s image as a good guy. Pity then that he dumped his current girlfriend, swimwear model Asher Rae, in a manner no nice guy ever would.
‘“He texted me,” said Ms Rae. “And when I asked him why we had to break up, he said I was…I was trash and he was moving on. He said he had to look out for his image.”’
‘No,’ Molly said out loud. ‘No.’
The newspaper editor was cruelly good at his job. A photo of Asher Rae in a sexy bikini was juxtaposed with an old photo of Molly taken at the senior citizen’s picnic. She wore old jeans and a loose cotton shirt and her hair was a mess.
But the author of the article wasn’t finished with Molly yet.
‘Although Ms Georgiou was not available for comment, we can be sure that her home town will rally around her. They’ll not appreciate one of their favourite daughters being used. Zane Carlton had better not show his face in Jardin Bay any time soon.’
Molly flattened both hands on her kitchen table so she didn’t fall over. The article was nasty, hateful, and people would believe it. She searched for the author’s name and found it.
Tony Umble. The grubby maggot. So that was why he’d been lurking around her and Zane in Jardin Bay.
‘Molly, you ready to go?’ Her parents walked in the back door. They were all awake at sunrise. The plan was to visit the cave at Big Swamp before teenagers could crawl out of bed. Tom, Stuart and Sergeant Forrest would meet them there.
By her mum and dad’s relaxed faces, they hadn’t seen the morning’s newspaper.
‘Read this.’ She pushed it along the table towards them. ‘None of it’s true. It’s horrible.’
Rachel read the article and looked up, horrified. ‘Zane did get that new sponsorship deal. Trish reported it in the local paper.’
‘Yes, but that was nothing to do with me. In fact, he’d already asked me to dinner before he heard of it. This rotten journalist has mixed the tiniest amount of truth with a whole heap of lies. I have to phone Zane.’
‘Ask him about this Asher Rae,’ Colin said.
‘Dad! It’s all a lie.’
Colin sounded grim. ‘I like Zane. I’ll trust his word. But this woman didn’t come out of nowhere.’
Molly swallowed. Truth was, she’d seen photos of Zane with the swimwear model, but the photos had been about a year old. ‘She probably wanted the publicity.’
‘Maybe, darling.’ Rachel put a silencing hand on Colin’s arm. ‘You phone Zane. Do you want us to stay?’
‘No.’ Molly’s thumb hesitated over Zane’s number. ‘I’ll talk to Zane. It’ll be okay. He’ll know how to handle it.’
‘He’s in Hawaii,’ her dad said. ‘You’re here. How can he handle it? This storm is all landing on you.’
‘Colin.’
He turned to his wife. ‘Molly’s not like this Asher woman. She doesn’t like publicity.’
‘But I work for a politician, Dad. I can deal with this. I can.’ She crossed the fingers of her free hand behind her back. Maybe she could. If the story died a natural death for lack of interest. It ought to. As the article hinted, she was boring.
Not someone Zane could be honestly interested in.
That was not true, so not true, but it still hurt.
Hiding the hurt, she hugged her parents. ‘Go. Enjoy the cave. And if Tom hasn’t read the paper yet, don’t tell him about this.’
‘He’ll hear about it soon enough,’ Colin said.
‘But by then, I’ll have spoken with Zane.’
Except as she watched her parents’ car reverse out of the driveway, she recalled what her emotional response had pushed out of her mind. Zane wasn’t at home in California. He was in Hawaii and that meant a whole different time zone.
She put her mobile phone down on the kitchen bench as she calculated the time difference. It would be midday or early afternoon in Hawaii. Mid-competition for Zane. She couldn’t ring him. Not now. This was an important event. It counted big time to the World Championship. As horrible as the article was, she had to deal with it and find a way to make it okay for Zane.
His job was to concentrate on his surfing.
If they were equals in this relationship, she had to pull her weight.
***
‘I’ll wring Tony Umble’s scrawny neck.’ Zane paced the narrow balcony of his hotel room. He’d turned off the lights in the room and the darkness closed around him.
He’d made it into the quarter finals, but the competition was fierce. Everyone was hungry for the win. The last thing he needed was this distraction. The article had been vicious. The maggot hadn’t gone after Zane, but after his weak spot: Molly.
She was holding up, but Zane suspected a false note in her determinedly serene voice.
For all her shyness, she worked for a politician. She’d had difficult phone calls before and she knew how to hide.
He flipping hated that she was using her professional voice with him. It put him at a distance and it made him worry that she really was hurting. ‘You don’t believe it.’
‘No.’
‘I only went out with Asher Rae a couple of times. We were promoting the same swimwear brand. It was business. She’s just out for publicity.’
‘She’s welcome to it.’ Now Molly sounded like herself, exasperated and something more.
‘What’s the fall-out?’ he asked.
‘Pardon?”
‘You, your parents, family, friends, the town? Are you getting hassle?’
‘Um, no. I thought, maybe, people might believe the rubbish just because it was printed in the paper, but in Jardin Bay, everyone kind of knows me or knows someone who knows me. They check that the article’s a lie, that you and I are real, and then they’re outraged for me. Tony Umble better not come back here. The mayor’s willing to put up a “Wanted: Alive or Rotten Tomatoed” poster in the town hall.’
He frowned down at the street lights far below. There was nothing amusing about this attack on Molly and him, and he refused to be placated. ‘All right. But Molly? Phone me if there are problems. Or if you’re just feeling down. This trash shouldn’t be in your life.’
‘Don’t worry about me. Good luck with the comp.’
‘Yeah. You take care.’ He hung up, feeling dissatisfied. Back to the railing and the dark horizon, he pressed the number for his agent. ‘Max? Have you seen the Australian newspapers? I want Molly protected.’
It’s Love, Dude Page 12