Oh, my God. Shaef.
Memory surfaced in one fell swoop, and a soft curse fell from her lips.
With considerable caution she skirted round the dog and crossed to the bathroom. The dog followed.
Five minutes later she returned to the bedroom, filching her swimsuit from the shower stall where she’d hung it over the taps to dry.
It fitted snug over her slender curves, and she pulled on sweat-shorts and top, then made her way into the kitchen.
Fresh orange juice added a certain zing to her palate, and she looked at the dog with a degree of doubt.
‘OK, I guess you need to go outside. Water,’ she declared decisively, and hunted for a bowl. ‘Food.’ The dog’s ears pricked at the mention of it.
Dammit, she was a cat person. Dogs gnawed on bones, ate meat, and munched on dry food. A goodly amount of each, she surmised, judging by Shaef’s size. None of which she had on hand.
‘Sorry, fella.’ She placed a bowl filled with water onto the floor. ‘This will have to do for now, then you can go home for breakfast.’
When she let him out of the back door, he promptly lolloped to the nearest tree, then, considerably more comfortable, returned to sit on the step.
‘Divided loyalties, pal. I’m going for a run along the beach. You get to choose whether you guard me or the house.’ She smiled and leant down to fondle one silky ear. ‘Personally, I’d go for the house.’
He didn’t, of course. She hadn’t moved more than half a dozen steps when he fell in beside her. ‘Well, there’s no doubt you take after your owner,’ she said conversationally. ‘He’s every bit as stubborn as you are.’
Anneke reached the beach and sprinted down onto the sand. And saw Sebastian engaged in callisthenics. Waiting to join her?
Sebastian plus his dog? She sprinted towards him. ‘Been waiting long?’ she queried sweetly.
He wasn’t deceived by the mildness of her tone. She was angry. Well, he could handle it. He drew himself up to his full height with ease, placed a hand on one hip and offered her a warm smile.
‘Beautiful day.’
She’d slept well. It made the fact that he hadn’t seem worthwhile.
‘Should I put this down to chance? Or is your appearance on the beach at this hour a forerunner of things to come?’
My, she possessed a sharp tongue. He had an urge to take her mouth with his own and change tart to something smooth and sweet.
‘You object to my company?’
She placed a hand on each hip, taking defiance to a new level. ‘In the thinly veiled guise of bodyguard, yes.’
He had to work hard to prevent humour from entering his voice. ‘Are you saying only one of us gets to share your run?’
Damn him, he was amused. ‘Given a choice, Shaef wins out.’ Her eyes searched his, saw the purposeful intent evident, and she released a deep sigh. ‘But you’re not going to give me a choice, are you?’
‘No.’
‘I just might have to hit you.’
‘Think carefully before you do.’
There was a silkiness evident in his tone that sent a faint shiver down the length of her spine.
Without a further word she turned and broke into a run, aware of the moment he joined her, man and dog matching their stride to hers. Part of her wanted to set a punishing pace, but she knew she’d never outrun either of them.
A degree of resentment rose to the surface. Against Adam, if it was he who’d initiated a nuisance campaign, but primarily with Sebastian, for any number of reasons, she decided darkly. Foremost, for tugging at her emotions and turning them every which way but loose.
The sandy cove curved out to sea in a low outcrop of rocks, and Anneke turned when she reached that point and began retracing her steps without pause.
Shaef was having a wonderful time, bounding on ahead, then diverging down to the incoming tide to examine a shell or a piece of seaweed. Sebastian jogged steadily at her side.
It was a relief to draw level with her towel, and without saying so much as a word she pulled off her joggers, stripped down to her swimsuit, and sprinted lightly down to the water’s edge.
She fully expected Sebastian to join her, and silently vowed as she dived into the cool sea that he’d regret it if he did. Quite how she’d ensure he regretted it, she wasn’t clear.
Sebastian intuitively opted to engage Shaef in a game of throw-the-stick until Anneke emerged.
‘Wise,’ she muttered beneath her breath, and missed the amused gleam in his dark eyes as he called Shaef to heel.
‘Share breakfast with me.’
She was sharing his dog, his protection. That was enough. She caught up the towel and wound it sarong-wise round her waist. ‘Thanks, but no, thanks. I have a heap of things to do.’
He snared her wrist as she turned to walk away from him. ‘Lock the cottage securely if you go anywhere. Drive with the central locking system in place. And make sure you park the car on a main thoroughfare.’
She began to steam with indignation. ‘Anything else?’
‘Carry your mobile phone at all times.’
‘I’m amazed you haven’t mentioned Shaef.’
‘That’s a given,’ Sebastian intoned hardily. ‘Where you go, he goes.’
The steam changed to smoke. ‘Now just a tiny minute, here.’ Anneke lifted a hand and poked his chest. Hard. ‘If my heavy breather is Adam, he’s hundreds of miles south in Sydney. A nuisance, but not a threat.’
‘And if it’s not Adam?’
Ice chilled her veins. ‘I intend to find out one way or another. Meantime, stay off my back.’ She poked his chest again for good measure, then tugged her hand free and marched back to the cottage.
Impossible, dictatorial, stubborn man. Who did he think he was? And by what right did he imagine he could tell her what to do?
Sebastian watched her retreating form, and that of Shaef, who, at a click of Sebastian’s fingers, had taken a few bounding strides to fall in at Anneke’s side.
A woman who would give as good as she got, and be passionate in giving it… Be it anger, or making love. The former he could handle with one hand tied behind his back. It was the latter that bothered him.
He could have done with cooling down in the ocean himself, and he measured the time it would take her to shower, make coffee, eat whatever it was she had for breakfast, then begin making phone calls.
At the very least he had ten minutes, even if she messed up the order of things.
Anneke entered the cottage and headed straight for the shower, where she sluiced off the salt water and shampooed her hair. Then, towelled dry, she dressed in sapphire-blue shorts and a matching sleeveless top.
Coffee, hot, sweet, strong and black, then she’d fill a bowl with cereal and fruit.
It was after eight when she crossed to the phone. Aunt Vivienne was first on her list, and, after eliciting news that Elise was fine, she gave her aunt relevant details and relayed the fact that until she contacted the police she had no idea whether they’d put a trace on the line or suggest she apply for an unlisted number. Either way, Aunt Vivienne’s permission was essential.
Next came a call to the phone company, who, on receiving relevant details, promised to check their records and ring back.
Which left the police. Two ‘on hold’s and two transfers later, she connected with a very informative young man.
‘Yes, ma’am. The complaint was logged in at twenty-o-five hundred hours last night by a Sebastian Lanier acting on behalf of Vivienne Sorrel, owner of the property. The duty officer advised appropriate action, which I understand is being taken, pending authority this morning from Vivienne Sorrel. Perhaps you might like to check with Sebastian Lanier?’
Check with him? She’d kill him! ‘Thank you.’ She replaced the receiver with care, then turned and marched from the cottage, closing the distance between both residences in swift, angry strides.
The back door was open, the screen door unlatched, and she knocked once, the
n entered to find Sebastian crisping bacon in the microwave while eggs simmered in a pan atop the stove.
‘What God-given right do you think you have to log in a report with the police on my behalf?’ Anneke demanded wrathfully.
The toaster popped up crisped bread, and he crossed to the servery, removed both slices and calmly buttered them.
‘You’re angry.’
Emerald fire flashed in her eyes, and she had to clench her fists to refrain from lashing out at him. ‘You bet your sweet life I am.’
He glanced up, and shot her a direct look as he extracted a plate from the cupboard. ‘I thought it wise to instigate immediate enquiries.’
‘Just who in hell do you think you are?’
He placed the toast onto the plate. ‘I promised Vivienne I’d keep an eye on you.’
‘Well, you can take your damned eye off me, as of now.’
Sebastian deftly removed the pan, slid eggs onto toast, collected the bacon, and carried both plates to the table.
‘Want to share?’
‘No, I don’t want to share anything with you!’ She drew in a deep breath and released it. ‘Nothing, nada, niente. Do you understand?’
He filled a mug with steaming aromatic black coffee, stirred in sugar, and savoured a mouthful. His shoulders lifted in a deliberate Gallic shrug. ‘That’s certainly specific.’
Anneke flung her arms in the air in a gesture of enraged despair. ‘You’re not going to do as I ask, are you?’
His eyes pierced hers, dark, dangerous and lethal. ‘No.’ He picked up cutlery and cut a neat slice from the corner of his toast. ‘Not until the nuisance calls stop.’
‘I’m twenty-seven years old, not seventeen. I’ve lived alone for seven years in a city known for its high crime rate. I can take care of myself.’
Sebastian forked a mouthful of toast and egg into his mouth, chewed and swallowed it, then proceeded to cut another slice.
‘You’ve forgotten one thing.’
The anger was still evident, simmering beneath the surface. ‘And what, pray, is that?’
‘I gave Vivienne my word.’
‘And your word is sacrosanct,’ Anneke declared with marked cynicism.
‘Yes.’
‘So get used to it?’
‘I’m simply telling you how it is,’ he said calmly.
‘In that case, there’s nothing more to say.’
‘No.’
There were several more words she could have uttered, many of them blistering and not in the least ladylike. However, restraint in this instance was a favoured option.
‘Fine.’ She turned towards the back door and walked from his kitchen, then crossed the stretch of lawn and garden separating each cottage.
Her car stood in the carport, and, making a split-second decision, she went indoors, changed her clothes, caught up her bag and mobile phone, then locked up the cottage, slid behind the wheel and reversed down the driveway.
Within minutes she gained the main road leading onto the northern highway. The Gold Coast was only two hours’ drive away. Shopping centres, movies, glitzy boutiques. Just the place to escape to, Anneke decided.
She had travelled less than five minutes when her mobile phone rang, and she automatically activated it.
‘Tell me where you’re going, and what time you expect to be home.’
Her stomach performed a backwards somersault at the sound of Sebastian’s voice on the line. It sounded impossibly deep, his accent more pronounced.
Anneke took a deep, steadying breath. ‘Go to hell.’ Then she cut the connection.
It should have made her feel better. Instead, she felt more and more like an angry juvenile kicking out against authority.
Examining the situation analytically, she was allowing emotions to overrule common sense.
Damn. She thumped a fist against the steering wheel. This contrary ambivalence was ridiculous.
Without further thought she slowed down and pulled off to the side of the road. She caught up her mobile phone and prepared to punch in digits she realised she didn’t have. Sure, he’d written down his number, but that was on a piece of paper tucked into a teletex in her aunt’s kitchen.
OK, all she had to do was ring directory service. Two minutes later she de-activated the call, and groaned with frustration. Sebastian Lanier’s phone number was ex-directory.
One car passed, then another. She didn’t notice the Range Rover ease to a halt behind her, nor was she aware as the driver slid out from behind the wheel and trod the bitumen to the passenger side of her car.
A firm tap on the glass was the first indication she had of anyone’s presence.
Anneke’s head swung towards the window, and even as her elbow moved in automatic reflex to punch down the central locking device the passenger door opened and Sebastian slid into the passenger seat.
His eyes were dark, almost black, his expression grim and unrelenting.
‘Careless,’ he drawled. ‘Very careless.’
‘My knight in shining armour,’ Anneke mocked. Her eyes were sheer crystalline emerald.
One day soon he would take that spitting tongue of hers and tame it. Was she aware just how close he was to doing it now?
His eyes seared hers as he placed an arm along the top of her seat. ‘Co-operate, Anneke, and we’ll get along fine.’
It was impossible to ignore the clean male smell of him, the faint aroma of aftershave. Just as it was impossible to dismiss the way her pulse tripped and raced to a quickened beat in his presence.
‘The moment the police discover the source of your nuisance calls,’ Sebastian assured her with a degree of cynicism, ‘you’re as free as a bird.’ His expression hardened. ‘Now, tell me where you’re going, what time you expect to return.’
Her chin tilted and her eyes assumed a fiery brilliance. ‘What if I don’t?’
‘That was the first option,’ Sebastian said hardily. ‘The second is for me to tag along with you.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘Choose, Anneke.’
‘And if I don’t have any set plans?’
‘The second option applies.’
Why was she fighting him? She couldn’t win. He wouldn’t allow it.
She took a deep breath, then slowly released it and handed him her mobile phone. ‘Press “redial”, and you’ll discover I was trying to reach you for the sole purpose of relaying my whereabouts on the Gold Coast and estimated time of return.’ When he didn’t take the phone, she hit the ‘redial’button and pressed the unit to his ear. ‘Except your number is ex-directory, and not even the citing of an emergency would reveal it.’
She delved into her bag, pulled out a piece of paper and a pen and thrust them at him, watching as he stroked a series of digits, then handed back the paper.
‘Satisfied?’ she demanded.
‘Ring me when you leave the Coast.’
It wasn’t negotiable, and she didn’t even bother to refuse him. Although it was impossible not to resort to sarcasm. ‘Do we synchronise our watches?’
Sebastian cast her a look that was more expressive than mere words, then he reached for the door clasp and slid out from the seat. ‘Drive carefully.’
He closed the door, then covered the distance to his Range Rover.
Anneke watched him in the rear vision mirror, then she activated the ignition, eased the car onto the road.
It should have been a wonderful day. The sun shone brightly in a clear azure sky. The temperature soared to a midsummer high. With only two weeks to go before Christmas, the shops bore colourful decorations and there was an air of expectancy among the many shoppers filling the malls and walkways.
Christmas carols, and a store Santa handing out lollies and balloons to eager children added festive anticipatory cheer.
Anneke had thought to spend Christmas with Aunt Vivienne, but now it appeared she’d be spending it alone.
She could fly to Seattle, join her mother and stepfather f
or a ‘yours, mine and ours’ family Christmas.
Or, alternatively, there was her father, happily ensconced in London, who would welcome her into his extended family.
A small body careened into her legs, and she held onto the runaway child, soothing the little boy until a harassed and very pregnant young mother caught up to him.
Within minutes her mobile phone rang, and after a moment’s hesitation she answered the call. There was a sense of relief to discover it was a friend from Sydney, wanting to exchange mutual news. Difficult in the face of that friendship not to reveal her whereabouts, although ‘the Gold Coast’ was hardly a fabrication. She simply didn’t add that she was only there for the day.
Lunch comprised a salad sandwich washed down by mineral water in an upmarket café, and afterwards she selected a number of Christmas cards.
Her mobile phone rang again while she hovered in a specialist boutique specialising in imported toiletries, and she gave the sales assistant a helpless shrug accompanied by a faint smile, then moved to one side to gain a little privacy.
‘Anneke.’ The familiar male voice was quiet, almost restrained, but very clear on the line, and her stomach flipped as she gripped the phone.
‘Adam.’ Calm, keep calm. Act nonchalant, a tiny voice persisted.
‘Bitch,’ he hissed before she had a chance to disconnect the call. ‘No woman runs out on me.’
‘There’s a first time for everything,’ she said crisply. ‘Chalk it up to experience.’
‘Didn’t think I could find you, did you, sweetheart?’
Relief, revulsion…both washed over her in realisation that Adam had been the source. ‘Making nuisance calls wasn’t very smart, Adam.’
‘Payback time,’ he dismissed. His voice lowered to a seductive drawl. ‘You should have played with me; we could have had a ball.’ He proceeded to explain his sexual preferences in graphic detail. ‘Pity, but I value my skin, and you’ve proven to be way too much trouble. Ciao, darling. Have a good life.’
Anneke closed the phone and replaced it in her bag. She should, she silently castigated herself, have cut the connection as soon as she heard his voice. Now she simply felt angry, sickened, as his words echoed and reechoed inside her head.
The Helen Bianchin Collection Page 210