‘From what I’ve observed, you have a nasty habit of cutting off your nose to spite your face,’ he said. ‘If you were honest with yourself you’d admit you want the same things as me. You crave stability and security, not to mention genuine affection, which one must assume comes from the dearth of such from your father.’
Even though he was as close to the truth as anyone could be, Bryony wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of confirming it.
‘Am I to suppose that what you feel for me is genuine affection or rather some sort of animalistic need to spread your genes into a more blue-blooded pool?’ Her tone dripped with derision.
‘How like you to throw a verbal punch when someone gets a little close to the bone,’ he said with a curl of his lip.
She tossed her head to stare fixedly at the front, silently fuming as he drove into his driveway, counting the seconds before she could exit the car away from his hateful presence.
The car purred to a stop and she wrenched open the door, slamming it behind her as she stomped to the house, rummaging in her bag for the set of keys he’d given her earlier. She located them and stabbed the right key into the lock, ignoring his command from behind her to stop.
As soon as the door opened a thousand sirens went off, the cacophony of sound so piercing that she dropped her bag and clamped her hands over her ears.
Kane strode over with a glowering look at her from beneath his dark brows and, punching in a code into the security panel inside the front door, turned to face her. ‘Happy now?’
On a childish impulse that hadn’t surfaced in years she poked her tongue out at him and brushed past to enter the house, grinding her teeth as the sound of his mocking laughter followed her up the stairs.
Bryony locked herself in the spare room for the rest of the night, trying to ignore her sense of pique that not once did Kane come to summon her out. When the clock finally dragged around to midnight she flung herself on the bed, certain she’d never sleep for the anger coursing through her veins, but somehow as soon as her head found the comfort of the feather pillow her eyelids drifted shut and, with a soft sigh, she dragged the sheet across her body and snuggled into the cushioning of the mattress…
When she came downstairs the next morning she found a short note propped up on the breakfast counter indicating that Kane had already left. Calling herself every type of fool for feeling disappointed, she tossed the piece of paper aside and made her way back upstairs to get ready for the studio.
When Bryony arrived Pauline was doing paperwork, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
‘Well, hello there,’ she drawled in her best Marlene Dietrich voice. ‘So how was the life in your man?’
Bryony forced herself to smile even though behind it her tooth enamel was being pulverized. ‘Fine.’
‘Only fine?’ Pauline gave a mock frown.
She could feel her cheeks heating and turned to inspect some papers on the desk. ‘Great, then; it was great.’
‘That’s better.’ Pauline rolled her chair back under the desk. ‘You had me worried. Anyway, I thought you weren’t coming back till next week?’
‘Kane had to fly interstate this morning,’ she explained.
‘You should have gone with him.’
‘I didn’t think it was fair to leave you on your own so long.’
‘I’m a big girl, more’s the pity.’ Pauline grinned ruefully and patted her thighs. ‘Anyway, I could have asked Gemma to do some of your classes. You know how keen she is.’
Bryony wished she’d thought of it earlier. Gemma was one of their senior girls who had often expressed a desire to teach the younger students.
‘I’ll give her a call some time,’ she said.
Pauline gave her an intent look. ‘Is everything all right?’
Bryony re-pasted her overly bright smile. ‘Of course it is.’
Pauline pursed her lips and tapped the pen she was holding against the back of her other hand. ‘You’re missing him, aren’t you?’
Bryony was about to deny it when she remembered that Pauline assumed along with everyone else that her marriage was a normal one. ‘Yes…I do miss him.’ She sighed, realizing it was perfectly true.
‘Poor darling,’ Pauline soothed. Then, giving her a wicked smile, she added, ‘Just think about the second honeymoon when he gets back. You probably won’t be able to walk for days.’
She turned away so Pauline couldn’t see the way her face was aflame. Even now she could still feel her internal muscles protesting when she moved in a certain way, reminding her of the hard male presence that had stretched her to accommodate him.
‘Your mother just phoned, by the way.’ Pauline reached for a memo note on the desk in front of her, handing it to Bryony. ‘She left a number for you to call.’
Bryony looked down at the piece of paper, her forehead creasing into a small frown. ‘I wonder why she didn’t call me on my mobile.’
‘Is it turned on?’ Pauline asked.
Bryony rummaged in her purse and grimaced as she saw the blank screen. ‘It must have gone flat while I was…’
‘Please!’ Pauline covered her ears theatrically. ‘Spare me the details, I’m far too innocent.’
Bryony couldn’t help a gurgle of laughter at her friend’s playful attitude. Her light-heartedness was just the tonic she needed.
‘I’d better call Mum. Will you excuse me for a minute?’
Pauline got up and pushed the chair towards her. ‘Go for it. I’m going to warm up. The little darlings will be here any minute.’
Bryony waited until Pauline was out of earshot before she dialled the number her mother had left. She held the receiver to her ear as the international beeps sounded, unconsciously holding her breath as she waited for it to connect.
Her mother answered on the third ring, her voice sounding panicky and strained. ‘Bryony? Oh, thank God you’ve finally called.’
‘Mum?’ Bryony gripped the receiver tightly. ‘What’s wrong?’
She heard the sound of her mother’s choked sob. ‘It’s your father…he’s had a stroke.’
A tremor of shock rumbled through her as her mother’s announcement sank in. ‘When? How is he? How are you coping?’ Her questions spilled out haphazardly, her thoughts tumbling over themselves in an effort to gain control.
‘Last night…darling, it looks serious.’ Another gulping sob accompanied Glenys’s words. ‘I don’t know what to do!’
‘Where is he? In hospital?’ Bryony asked.
‘Yes, but it’s all so primitive over here on this island! The doctor doesn’t really speak English and no one seems to care that your father is in a ward with several others. I can’t bear it. I think I’ll go mad if someone doesn’t do something.’
‘We’ll have to arrange to fly him home,’ Bryony said, keeping her voice calm and even to soothe her mother’s distraught emotions. ‘Have you contacted the Australian embassy?’
‘There isn’t even a hairdresser let alone an embassy on this wretched island,’ Glenys cried. ‘Besides, I don’t want to leave your father’s side in case he wakes up.’
‘He’s unconscious?’ Bryony asked.
‘He hasn’t woken since he collapsed,’ her mother informed her brokenly.
‘Don’t worry. I’ll make the necessary arrangements if you give me all the details. Which island are you on?’ She jotted down the information as her mother delivered it to her in tearful bursts. ‘Now, sit tight and I’ll call you as soon as I know anything.’
Bryony put down the phone with a trembling hand, wondering who she should call first. Before she could decide the telephone rang and she snatched it up, her voice cracking as she answered. ‘H-hello?’
‘Bryony?’ Kane’s deep voice sounded from the other end and a huge wave of relief washed over her. ‘You sound a little distracted, is everything OK?’
‘M-my father has had a stroke,’ she said. ‘I need to get him back to Sydney. My mother is a mess and—’
‘They don’t have a home any more,’ she cried as her emotions finally got the better of her.
There was a small pause before he spoke. ‘Leave it to me, Bryony. Just stay calm until I get back. I’ll be on the next available flight if all goes well. Do you think you can hang out that long?’
‘I-I think so,’ she said with a sniff.
‘That’s my girl.’ There was a gruff softness to his tone that made her heart squeeze. ‘See you soon.’
‘See you.’ She sighed as the connection ended.
She stared into space for several minutes, trying to get her head around the current crisis. Her father had always seemed so forceful and in control; it was hard to imagine him incapacitated by a stroke. She felt ill at the thought of what her mother would likely have to face if he didn’t recover full mobility. He would make her life a living hell, no doubt taking out his frustration on her at every available opportunity.
‘Oh, Austin!’ she sobbed. ‘Why did you have to die and leave me with all this?’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
LATER Bryony had cause to wonder how she got through the first few days of her parents’ return. Her concerns about her relationship with Kane had to take a back seat as she offered what support she could to her distraught mother.
Kane had arranged for Owen to be admitted to a private hospital where he began to make some small signs of progress. Once Owen was declared out of danger Kane suggested to Glenys and Bryony that he be transferred to Mercyfields with the support of a private nursing agency.
‘Oh, Kane, that would be wonderful,’ Glenys gushed gratefully, mopping at her eyes. ‘I don’t know how to thank you for all you’ve done.’
‘It’s no problem.’
Bryony was well aware of her parents’ lack of finances and, once her mother had gone back in to be with her father in his plush single bed ward, she confronted Kane, her eyes flashing with brooding resentment. ‘I’d like to know how my parents are expected to pay for months of private nursing when they no longer have a penny to their name!’
He gave her a long and thoughtful look. ‘I don’t expect them to pay for it.’
‘Who do you expect to foot the bill—me?’ she asked, her mouth twisting bitterly, hurt and anger coursing through her. ‘No doubt with regular installments in the currency of the bedroom.’
He didn’t answer, which annoyed her into throwing back, ‘Or perhaps it’s all part of the plan for revenge. You already have the business, Mercyfields and me and now apparently you have my parents’ gratitude. Is that what you’re after? Their pride on a platter?’
‘You’re upset and overwrought,’ he said evenly. ‘Let’s go home so you can get some sleep.’ He reached for her arm but she slapped his hand away.
‘Don’t touch me!’ Her eyes grew wild with rage.
He shifted his tongue in his cheek as he looked down at her, making Bryony feel as if he were looking at a small recalcitrant child instead of a fully grown woman.
‘Don’t look at me like that.’ She scowled at him.
‘I will look at you any way I wish. Now, let’s go home before I’m tempted to kiss you senseless right in front of those nurses who are showing an inordinate amount of interest in our conversation.’
Bryony flicked her gaze to the nurses’ station where three nurses were standing, rather too obviously pretending to be engrossed in a patient’s chart.
She drew in an angry breath and followed him as he shouldered open the double door leading to the exit.
She was determined she wouldn’t utter a word to him on the way home and then when he seemed equally disinclined to talk felt her resentment towards him going up another notch.
‘Aren’t you going to say anything?’ she asked as they turned into the driveway a short time later.
‘Did you want me to say anything in particular?’ He slanted a quick glance her way as he parked the car in the garage.
She pushed open her door without replying, slamming it behind her with unnecessary force. She wanted him to say many things, such as ‘I love you,’ but as far as she could tell he was more likely to tell her he had no further use for her. As he was footing her father’s health bills she knew it would be impossible to convince him that her love for him was genuine for he would see it as nothing more than gratitude for how he’d come to the rescue. He hadn’t touched her since he’d returned from Melbourne and, while she tried to convince herself he’d kept his distance due to the stress she was under with her father, another part of her wished he’d pulled her into his arms regardless.
Kane drew in a breath and followed her to the house, his brow furrowing at the difficulties that lay ahead for Bryony. He’d had a private discussion with Owen Mercer’s specialist, who hadn’t given a very promising recovery verdict. It was quite clear that Bryony’s father was going to be an invalid, at least for the foreseeable future, and it worried him to think of her doing her level best to support her mother during what would prove to be an arduous time. Even in the best of health Owen wasn’t a patient man; how much worse was he going to be, wheelchair bound and totally dependent on others?
Bryony deactivated the alarm and turned to look at him, her chin hitched up. ‘See? I’m not as stupid as you thought.’
‘I never said you were stupid.’ He followed her inside, closing the door behind him. ‘Stubborn maybe, bad-tempered and more than a little petulant but definitely not stupid.’
She bit her lip in such an endearingly childlike way he felt his gut clench painfully, making him want to enfold her in his arms and protect her from all of life’s hurts.
‘Would you like something to eat?’ he asked. ‘You’ve had a long day at the hospital and, as plush as Saint Honore’s is, hospital food, in my opinion, is really only fit for the very ill.’
As much as Bryony felt in the mood to contradict everything he said, she reluctantly had to agree with him.
‘I’m starving. The sandwich I had at lunchtime tasted like it came out of the bottom of someone’s gym bag.’
He smiled as he loosened his tie. ‘I’ll fix us something. Why don’t you go and have a shower or something while I fire up the kitchen?’
Bryony felt fired up physically by his disarming smile, all her earlier anger receding as if someone had turned a switch. She wanted food but much more than that she wanted to feel his arms around her, holding her close, telling her he would be there for her in the rough times ahead. Sudden tears pricked at the back of her eyes and she blinked to push them away.
‘Why are you being so nice to me when I’ve been such a bitch to you all evening?’
He rolled up his tie and placed it on the nearest surface. ‘You’re not a bitch, agape mou. Annoying at times, intractable at others, but definitely not a bitch.’
His gentle teasing was her undoing. She blundered towards him, burying her head into his chest, sobbing openly and clutching at his shirt with her fingers.
‘Hey, there…’ He placed a warm protective hand on the back of her head. ‘What did I say?’
‘N-nothing…’ She shook her head against his chest. ‘I’m just feeling really emotional right now.’
‘I understand.’ He stroked her back with his free hand, his chin resting on the top of her silky head.
‘I’ve been trying to be so strong for my mother but I can’t do it,’ she said.
‘It’s certainly been tough on you.’
‘She needs me so much.’ She gave a huge sniff and he handed her his clean handkerchief. She blew her nose and added, ‘Ever since Austin died I’ve had to be strong for everyone. I didn’t get time to grieve because I had to hold up everyone else. I just can’t do it any more.’
‘You don’t have to do it alone,’ he said.
She eased herself away from his chest to look up at him. ‘Why should you help? You’ve always hated my family.’
&
nbsp; He considered her words for a lengthy moment. ‘Hate is a very strong word. I am wary around them but I no longer hate them.’
Bryony tried to make sense of his statement. If he no longer hated her parents was there a chance he could feel something more lasting for her? She stared at the open neck of his shirt, still in the circle of his strong arms, wishing she had the courage to tell him how much she loved him, how she believed him to be the most noble and caring person she’d ever met.
Kane released her gently, tapping her on the end of her nose with a long finger. ‘Go and get into your most comfortable night gear and meet me in the kitchen in fifteen minutes. I promise you I’ll have a veritable feast for you.’
She went upstairs and did as he’d said, somehow feeling better for the shower and a change of clothing. Deciding against her comfortable pyjamas, she put on one of his bathrobes instead, unable to stop herself from breathing in the lingering scent of his skin as she did so.
He was dishing up as she entered the kitchen, a tea towel tied around his waist.
‘Grab yourself a glass of wine.’ He pushed the open bottle towards her along with a glass. ‘I won’t be a minute.’
Bryony sniffed the air, her stomach instantly rumbling at the hint of garlic in the air. ‘What have you made?’
‘Garlic and pesto chicken,’ he informed her.
‘So soon?’ She eyed the elaborate dish he set in front of her.
He tossed the tea towel to the bench and pulled out the stool opposite hers. ‘This is the one I prepared earlier, just like all the celebrity chefs.’
She couldn’t stop her smile in time.
He grinned back at her and charged his glass against hers. ‘Eat, drink and be merry.’
She finished the quote with a grimace. ‘For tomorrow someone may die.’
Kane put his glass down. ‘He’s not going to die, Bryony.’
She sighed and ran her fingertip around the rim of her glass rather than look up at him. ‘I know it’s awful of me, but sometimes I wish he had; that way my mother could finally be free.’
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