‘Take care, Miss Firebrand,’ he advised with an ironic little glint in his eye. ‘Take care.’
He made sure she was steady again and walked away to his car.
It was Gail who came out to stand beside Mia as Carlos accelerated down the drive. It was Gail who put her arm around Mia’s shaking shoulders and led her inside.
CHAPTER FIVE
SIX WEEKS LATER Mia put down the phone and stared into space, her mind reeling.
She was still at Bellbird, having, after serious thought and some legal advice, written Carlos a stilted little note to the effect that she would be grateful to stay on for the six-month term of her original lease. She’d got a reply agreeing to her request, written and signed by his secretary.
Gail happened to be passing the office doorway with a pile of snowy tablecloths in her arms but she paused and raised an interrogative eyebrow at her boss.
‘That was Carol Manning,’ Mia said in a preoccupied manner.
Gail waited a moment, then, ‘Do I know Carol Manning?’
‘Uh...no, sorry.’ Mia tapped her teeth with her pencil. ‘She’s Carlos O’Connor’s secretary.’
Gail advanced into the office and dumped the tablecloths on a chair. ‘What’s he want?’
‘A lunch for forty next week. They’re holding some kind of a conference on the two preceding days and have decided to wrap things up with a lunch.’
‘Not a great deal of notice,’ Gail observed. ‘He’s lucky you had the day free.’
‘He...’ Mia paused. ‘He had something else planned, a cruise on the harbour, but the long range forecast is for showers and high winds now—in Sydney, that is, it’s only a coastal low pressure system, apparently. It should be OK up here. I can’t help wondering why he didn’t choose another venue, though.’
Gail grimaced. ‘Why should he when he owns the best venue there is?’
Mia smiled dryly. ‘In a nutshell,’ she murmured. ‘I still wish he’d gone somewhere else.’
‘I can understand that.’ Gail picked up her tablecloths. ‘Considering the way things ended between you two. Not that I’ve asked any questions, but you only had to have eyes.’
‘Gail, you’ve been a tower of strength and I really appreciate the fact that you haven’t asked any questions,’ Mia said warmly. ‘I just...I’m just not sure how I’ll be.’
‘You’ll be fine! At least you can walk on two feet now. OK—’ she dumped the tablecloths on a chair again and sat down opposite Mia ‘—let’s help you to be fine; let’s slay ’em. Let’s give them the best darn lunch they’ve ever had. Is there any kind of theme to the conference—did this Carol Manning mention anything pivotal?’
‘Horses,’ Mia said succinctly. ‘O’Connor Construction is planning to build an equestrian centre that should accommodate stabling, tracks for thoroughbreds, tracks for trotters, dressage plus a vet hospital, swimming pools for horses, you name it. Thus, at the conference there’ll be a variety of people from vets to trainers to owners to jockeys, but all horsey.’
‘I’m quite a fan of horses,’ Gail observed, looking thoughtful.
‘I am too.’ Mia chewed the end of her pencil this time. ‘Gail, you’re a genius. I’ve just had the most amazing idea.’
‘I don’t see how that makes me a genius.’
‘It was your “pivotal” point that did it. You may not know it, but one of the most famous horse races in the world is the Kentucky Derby.’
‘Well, I did know that.’
‘Good.’ Mia turned to her computer and her fingers flew over the keys as she did some research. ‘The other thing about it is the fact that it’s laden with tradition. You drink mint juleps at Churchill Downs on Kentucky Derby day, you eat burgoo—’
‘I’ve heard of mint juleps but what on earth is burgoo?’
‘It’s a concoction of beef, chicken, pork and vegetables,’ Mia read from her screen, ‘and they play Stephen Foster’s “My Old Kentucky Home” while you do. Then there are the roses.’
‘We’ve got plenty of roses,’ Gail put in.
‘I know.’ Mia thought of the rose gardens outside in full bloom. ‘The tradition is that the winner, the horse, is draped in a blanket woven with five hundred and fifty-four roses. We probably—’ she looked up at Gail ‘—don’t have to use that many roses, then again we do need a horse.’
‘Not a live one. Certainly not Long John—he could go about biting all manner of people,’ Gail objected.
‘Nooo—but I can’t think what else to substitute. Apart from that, though, wouldn’t it be something to serve a horsey crowd mint juleps and—’ she pointed to her screen ‘—feed them burgoo from an authentic recipe—and have the waiters and waitresses dressed in jockey silks?’
Gail blinked. ‘The mint juleps sound a bit dangerous if you ask me.’
‘The guests are coming by coach so we don’t need to worry about drink-driving. A horse, a horse,’ Mia said rapidly, ‘my kingdom for a horse.’
‘My mother’s got one; it’s a wooden rocking horse, it’s nearly as big as the real thing and it’s in beautiful condition for an antique. It’s Mum’s pride and joy.’
‘Oh, Gail, do you think she’d lend it to us?’
‘We can only ask. What else do we need?’
‘Stephen Foster music, but I’m sure I can find that. All right.’ Mia sat up. ‘I won’t have time to think straight.’
* * *
‘Five hundred and fifty-four roses?’ Bill James said incredulously. ‘You must be mad, Mia. Clean off your rocker, more like it.’
‘If you’d let me finish, Bill,’ Mia said with a slight edge, ‘I was just telling you that’s the number they use in the actual Kentucky Derby to decorate the winner’s blanket.’
‘They, whoever they are, sound as nutty as fruitcakes too, if you ask me,’ Bill interjected. ‘Five hundred and fifty-four. For a horse blanket!’
‘Bill—’ Mia breathed heavily ‘—we won’t use nearly as many but we will use some—so be prepared.’ She eyed him militantly.
Bill snorted and then eyed her. ‘You’re getting snippety, Mia. Not only that, you’re looking peaky. If I were you, I’d get that boyfriend of yours back.’
Mia went to speak but choked instead and finally turned on her heel, the good one, and marched away.
* * *
To her dismay, she found herself tossing and turning in her loft the night before the O’Connor lunch, despite her earlier conviction that, with the forthcoming event to think about, she would be too busy to think of anything else.
Finally she got up, climbed down her ladder, put some more wood into the stove and brewed herself a cup of chocolate.
In the six weeks since she’d last seen Carlos, she’d had days when she was sure, quite convinced, in fact, that she’d done the right thing. Even accepting the six months had gone against the grain with her. It had made her feel like the recipient of charity. It made her, as unreasonable as it sounded, but she couldn’t help it, feel like the housekeeper’s daughter again.
But on other days she thought she must have been a little mad to have knocked back the opportunity to stay on at Bellbird.
Why couldn’t she have buried her pride? After all, it had been her dream only a few weeks ago. Even now, as she resolutely looked for new premises to move to when her lease was up, it was tearing her apart to think of leaving.
But that’s nonsense, she thought as she sipped her chocolate. It’s only a place.
And he’s only a man, but like it or not I’ve had a crush on Carlos for a long time, and probably always will....
She stared into the fire and shivered, not from cold, but from fear. She was feeling scared and young because she was confused, because she was sometimes tempted to think she could love Carlos much better than Nina French had.
In fact loving Carlos, or the thought of it, was something that plagued her waking hours as well as her dreams.
It was mad. No sooner had she told him she could never
forgive him, no sooner had she told him she wished he hadn’t bought Bellbird, than she’d started to feel bereft and in a particular way.
She missed him. She shook secretly with desire for him. She missed the way he charmed people, like Gail’s mother. She desperately missed the way he forked back his hair, how his eyes could laugh at her while his expression was grave. The feel of him when he carried her in his arms...
* * *
The next morning Mia dressed carefully in a skirt and blouse.
She’d tied her hair back but used a lilac scarf to lessen the severity of the style.
Then, having checked with the caterers that everything was going well with the ‘burgoo’—she gave it a taste test—she took a last tour of the dining room.
Pride of place on a dais was Gail’s mother’s rocking horse, looking spectacular under its ‘rose blanket’, which was a work of art, even if nothing like five hundred and fifty-four roses had been used. And in the centre of the room there was an ice carving of a mare with her foal at her foot.
‘My Old Kentucky Home’ was playing softly in the background and waitresses in jockey silks and caps were waiting to serve mint juleps.
Then the guests arrived and Mia held her breath as they filtered into the dining room but she was reassured by the gasps and delighted comments, and she sought out Gail across the room with her eyes and they gave each other the thumbs-up sign.
There was no sign of Carlos, although Carol Manning had introduced herself. ‘He should be here any minute,’ she said with some obvious frustration. ‘He’s often late.’
‘I know, he was late for his sister’s wedding,’ Mia said and bit her lip. ‘Uh...he didn’t come by bus?’
‘Bus! When you have the kind of car he drives, no,’ Carol Manning responded and looked more closely at Mia. ‘So you’re Mia Gardiner? How do you do? I must say—’ she looked around, wide-eyed ‘—I can understand why Mr O’Connor decided to have you do this lunch. It’s inspired. Ah, here he is now.’ And she nodded to the entrance of the dining room.
Carlos was standing in the doorway, looking around. He wore a beautifully tailored grey suit, a pale blue shirt and a navy tie. Then, with a faint smile twisting his lips, he came across the room and, for an instant, Mia felt like fainting under the almost overpowering impact of his good looks, his masculinity and what he used to mean to her.
‘Well done, Miss Gardiner,’ he said. ‘Very well done. How’s the foot?’
‘Fine now, thank you, Mr O’Connor,’ she murmured. ‘I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy your lunch.’ And she moved away smoothly.
* * *
‘So here you are.’
Mia looked up with a start. She was in her cottage having seen, or so she thought, the last of the lunch guests off.
It had clearly been a highly successful function. Carlos had been nowhere to be seen, nor had his car.
‘I thought you’d gone,’ she said.
‘Or hoped I had? Never mind. I actually went to see Gail’s mother.’ He sat down at the kitchen table.
‘What on earth for?’ Mia frowned.
‘Gail told me she wove the rose blanket so I went to thank her.’
‘That was nice,’ Mia conceded.
‘You sound surprised.’
‘No, I’ve always known you can be nice.’ Mia said flatly, then added on a rush of breath, ‘What do you want, Carlos? We’ve got nothing more to say to each other.’
He raised an eyebrow. ‘You may not have but it looks to me as if you’ve lost weight. Finding it a bit hard to maintain a stance so full of righteous indignation, Mia?’
She gasped. ‘How dare you? It’s not that!’
‘Then what is it?’
‘I mean, I haven’t lost weight,’ she corrected herself belatedly, but it was a lie. She was not prepared to admit as much to Carlos, however.
‘According to Bill, not only don’t you look well but you’re cranky and hard to work with.’
Mia opened her mouth, closed it, then, ‘Hard to work with?’ she repeated furiously. ‘If anyone is hard to work with it’s Bill. Have you any idea how I have to nurse him through Lucy’s month with her grandkids?’ She broke off, breathing heavily.
He watched the way her chest heaved beneath the black blouse, then looked into her eyes. ‘If it’s any comfort,’ he said quietly, ‘I’m like a bear with a sore head at times too.’
Her lips parted. ‘Why?’ she whispered.
‘Whatever the rights and wrongs of it, I want you. I thought you might be in the same difficulty.’
She was transfixed as she turned pale then pink in a way that virtually shouted from the rooftops that she was.
‘I...I...’ she stammered and couldn’t go on.
He moved a step closer but that was when her phone rang. It was lying on the kitchen table and she was all set to ignore it but she saw her mother’s name on the screen and picked it up to answer.
Her tears were impossible to control when she ended the call and she was white to the lips.
‘What?’ he asked. ‘What’s happened?’
‘My father. He’s had a stroke. Oh, I’ve got to go but it could take me hours to get off the mountain, let alone up to Ballina.’ She wrung her hands.
‘No, it won’t.’ He pulled his own phone out and punched in some numbers.
Half an hour later Mia was on her way down the mountain beside him in his fast car and when they reached Sydney Airport she transferred to a waiting helicopter he’d organised.
‘There’ll be a car at the airport to take you to the hospital,’ he told her just before she boarded the chopper.
‘I can’t thank you enough!’
‘Don’t worry about it,’ he recommended.
She turned away to climb aboard, then turned back impulsively and kissed him swiftly. ‘Thanks,’ she said from the bottom of her heart.
* * *
A week later her father, who’d been moved to the Lismore Base Hospital, was recovering.
It was going to take some months of physiotherapy for him to be as mobile as he had been, but all the signs were good. And her mother had returned from the shell-shocked, frightened, trembling person she’d been at first to her usual practical and positive self.
‘I think we’ll lease the tea room out,’ she’d told Mia. ‘You know, apart from the birds and the bees and growing things, your father has always had another ambition—to drive around Australia. I think the time has come, when he’s recovered, to buy a caravan and do it.’
‘Why not?’ Mia had responded.
Her mother had then looked at her critically and told her she looked as if she needed a break.
Mia agreed with her but didn’t tell her she actually felt as if she’d been run over by a bus. Instead she mentioned that she planned to have a couple of days off before she returned to Mount Wilson, since Gail seemed to be coping well and now had Lucy James to help her out.
Mia’s mother had looked unconvinced about the efficacy of ‘a couple of days’ but she’d urged Mia just to do it.
* * *
Mia took herself to Byron Bay, south of the Queensland border and the most easterly point of the Australian mainland.
She booked herself into a luxury motel just across the road from the beach and she slept for hours on her first day.
Then she took a stroll down the beach at sunset.
It was a beautiful scene, a pink cloud-streaked sky, the sheen of pewter laid across the placid low-tide water and the lighthouse an iridescent white on the dark green of Cape Byron.
She rolled her jeans up and splashed in the shallows. Her hair was loose and wild. She had a turquoise T-shirt on and she’d tied a beige jumper round her waist by its sleeves. On her way back she stopped to untie it and pull it on as the pink of the sunset slipped from the sky and the air cooled.
That was when she noticed a tall figure standing on the beach below the surf club.
A tall figure she could never mistake—Carlos.
&nbs
p; She didn’t hesitate. She pushed her arms into the sleeves of the jumper as she walked over to him.
‘I didn’t know you were here, Carlos.’
‘I wasn’t. I’ve only just arrived. Your mother told me you were here.’
‘Oh, Carlos! You spoke to my mother?’
He nodded. ‘And your father. I went to see them.’
‘They would have loved that. Thanks a million. Where are you staying?’
He took her hand and touched the side of her face, then pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘With you, Mia. With you if you’ll have me.’
She took a breath and a faint smile curved her lips. ‘Just as well it’s only across the road then,’ she said serenely.
* * *
‘I like the way you do that,’ Mia murmured.
She was lying naked across the king-sized bed and her body was afire with his touch as he left no part of her unexplored.
‘But I think I need to be held before I...I don’t know what, but something tempestuous is liable to happen to me, Carlos,’ she went on with a distinct wobble in her voice.
He laughed a little wickedly and took her in his arms. ‘How’s that?’
‘Oh, thanks.’ She wound her arms round him and kissed the strong tanned column of his neck. ‘You know, I can’t believe this.’
‘Believe what?’ He cupped her bottom.
‘How good it is to be here in bed with you,’ she said on a genuine note of wonderment. She leant up on one elbow and looked at him seriously. ‘It’s not too tame for you, is it?’
‘Tame?’ he replied equally as seriously and removed his hands from her hips to cup her breasts. Her nipples hardened as he played with them and she took several ragged little breaths.
He looked into her eyes. ‘Tame?’ he repeated as she writhed against him and bit her bottom lip. ‘It’s the opposite, but are you ready for me, Mia?’
‘More than that, dying, actually. Oh!’ she gasped as he turned her onto her back and eased his body onto hers. And she was ready to welcome him so that in moments the rhythm of their lovemaking increased and there was absolutely nothing tame about the way they moved together and finally climaxed together—it was wild, wanton and wonderful.
The Return of Her Past Page 8