by Kris Pearson
“He’s flown for ages. Got the bug in Australia ten years ago when he saw how the farmers made use of small planes over their vast distances. And the Flying Doctor Service of course.”
Eleven years ago, Ellie silently corrected. On the overland trip with Darren. Right after Cal was conceived. “And it’s his own helicopter?”
Ginny pulled out several thick white towels and handed them over. “More and more farmers have planes now. And even those who don’t will have airstrips for the topdressing crews.” She directed a piercing glance in Ellie’s direction. “Wharemoana’s a different world, dear. A world in itself, really. Robbie bought Julia whatever she wanted—except a cure for cancer—and heaven knows he tried that too.” Her lips trembled for a moment. Then she hurried outside, carrying a striped blanket. Ellie followed with the towels.
The distinctive whine of the helicopter’s engine started up, setting the dogs barking.
Minutes later, Tony cinched Ellie’s harness and adjusted headphones over her ears, insisting that she’d need them.
An ashen faced Peter lowered his swaddled-up son into her arms, trying to support the injured leg and not cause too much further pain. “See you soon, Stevie-boy,” he whispered before latching the door. Seconds later they rose into the twilight sky.
Ellie watched the homestead and its vivid swimming pool swing out of sight. Tony had been right about the noise. She tucked the towelling closer to Steven’s ears, anxious not to hurt his head further.
Surf pounded the shore, the crashing white waves clearly visible against the darker water, but the view became inkier as they curved away from the coast and headed north. Occasional pinpricks of light floated by below, testament to the sparse farming communities.
Steven gave an occasional piteous moan, and his skin grew ever waxier as the long minutes ticked past. Ellie only half listened to the noise through the headphones, much more worried about the little boy’s condition than flying instructions, but she heard concern in Tony’s voice, and gathered he had no night-flying instruments. His handsome face became grimmer as the sun sank further below the horizon. All his energies were concentrated on the machine, and he scarcely acknowledged her presence beside him.
In the noisy shuddering cockpit it was easy to imagine all sorts of disasters—running out of fuel, hitting power lines and crashing in a sickening burning heap, poor Steven dying before they reached the hospital, losing their way in the dusk without those instruments... Even when she squeezed her eyes shut, the scenes repeated on the movie screen of her closed eyelids.
She gave silent thanks each time she found the faint pulse still fluttering in Steven’s neck, because blood now soaked a large area of the towelling around his head. How could she have coped if this was Cal whimpering in her arms? It would be unbearable.
She knew Gwen and Peter must be in extreme anguish as they hurtled along the country roads many miles behind, praying for their son’s safety.
xxx
When the brighter lights of civilisation swam into view, Ellie sensed Tony relaxing a little. He sent her a ‘thumbs-up’ and a shadow of a smile. She peered around, soon recognising the long straight main road below that he’d been searching for. The big hospital buildings became visible among the lower, darker houses, and then she glimpsed the illuminated heli-pad. He brought them down with the gentlest of bumps.
The waiting medical team whisked their patient away. She and Tony trailed after them along brightly lit frightening corridors until they were directed to a waiting room.
“Not quite the evening I had planned,” he said, dropping into the chair next to hers and pulling out his mobile. Ellie smiled sadly. Would Steven’s bad fortune be enough to deflect Tony’s attention from her? And could she bear it if it was?
“Pete? Yup—we’re here. All well so far. Can’t tell you more than that yet. Come straight to Emergency—we’ll wait.” He listened a moment longer. “We’ll wait,” he repeated. “I’ll let you know the moment we hear anything.” He snapped the phone shut.
“The old gardener left a wheelbarrow full of tools parked behind the trampoline. It’ll kill him to know the poor kid hit that before he landed on the grass.” He enclosed Ellie’s hand in his. Someone was shaking. She couldn’t be sure if it was her or Tony—or both of them.
“Something to drink?” he asked, leaning back and closing his eyes for a few seconds.
“I’ll get it,” she offered.
He shook his head and rose to his feet. “Nope—I’ve still got the jitters. Need to keep moving for a while yet.” He returned a short time later with two disposable cups full of indifferent coffee, and a couple of battered magazines.
“High living,” he said, staring into the murky mixture. “We’ll make up for it later. I asked Ginny to book us into Honeymeade Lodge for the night. I’m not risking a return flight.”
Honeymeade Lodge? Had he stayed there with Julia? Presumably it was an up-market hotel? Ellie’s brain raced. They had no luggage—not even a toothbrush between them. Whatever would Ginny think now? She shook her head in confusion. “I suppose you’ll have to vacate the heli-pad here. They might have another emergency.”
He took another sip of the bad coffee. “I’ll break some more rules and head direct for the lodge. It’s very close. Custom-designed as a conference centre. We had a forestry seminar there a fortnight ago.”
“Not a hotel then?”
“Not in any normal sense of the word. It’s quiet, discreet, luxurious. We’ll get there in less than five minutes.” He reached for her hand again. “I can ravish you in total privacy.”
Was there the slightest hint of a question in his husky voice? Ellie turned to him, and for long seconds their eyes locked. His gaze held no laughter now—his expression intense, deliberate, possessive.
“Like you did in Sydney?” she asked.
“Our first night together? God, that was something.”
They sat on under the blazing white fluorescent lights, thinking their own thoughts, sipping the terrible coffee, paging through the scuffed magazines, waiting for Peter and Gwen.
Sometimes Tony reached over and stroked her knee or her hair. Several times Ellie turned toward him and searched his face before raising her hand and touching his cheekbone or running a finger down the cleft of his chin. The air slowly thickened between them.
“Nearly ten,” he said, glancing at his watch. “They should be almost here.”
“You were wearing a grey shirt,” Ellie said, as though no time had passed since she’d last spoken. “And dark trousers that made your legs look so long. I could see a little slice of your chest and the beginning of this. You’ve got more now.” She tweaked his sprinkling of chest-hair between her thumb and forefinger. “You were twice as gorgeous with clothes on. I didn’t think that was possible because you were lovely just in shorts when you were crashing away at that concrete.”
He smiled, relaxing properly at last. “You were quite something in that white bikini. Watching me, and pretending not to.”
“My mother would have been so shocked to know I’d dated a total stranger.”
“You and Maggie were pretty stunned by the nightlife in Kings Cross as I recall?”
“Hah!” she responded. But he was right. They’d tried not to gawp like tourists, but the drag queens and prostitutes and strip show spruikers had been hard to ignore. Ellie still remembered seeing one girl wearing nothing but a man’s shirt, tightly belted at the waist. She’d tottered on impossibly tall shoes, the shirt-tails barely covering what was for sale. The girl was tousle haired and sleepy eyed.
“Druggie,” Darren had said.
“Poor thing,” Maggie agreed.
But of all the sights that first evening, it had been Tony who caused Ellie the most consternation. His reflection in the plate glass windows—so much taller than she was. The flash of his very good teeth as he laughed in the half lit smoky clubs. His long fingers running up and down her arm until she thought she’d dissolve into
a puddle of shining pleasure.
They’d danced close, his lips on her brow, or hers against his neck. She knew he wanted her; on the crowded dark dance floors they were pushed together by the press of other dancers. She’d been so excited by the hard chafing bulge in his pants. He’d kissed her only once—suddenly and hungrily—and then tucked her head back under his chin with a sigh. “You know what’s on offer,” he’d murmured. “Your choice.”
Goose-bumps had sprung up on Ellie’s arms as her body responded to his explicit invitation. Deep inside she’d felt swollen and hot and excited—truly aroused for the first time in her life.
They’d continued to dance without speaking. She’d been thrilled but puzzled. Was it up to her to make the next move? Hardly daring to breathe, she’d pressed herself a little closer to him and he’d tightened his arms around her in reply.
“And Mags and Darren wanted ‘one more club’, and we left them to it,” she remembered. “I can’t believe I was such an innocent child.”
“This way,” Tony had said, closing the gate to a dark suburban house. He led her along the tree lined side path to a sleep-out at the back of the property. Night insects chirped and squeaked and rustled. The air was perfumed by a white-flowered vine that billowed through the trees above them. Light from the low moon fell across his strong shoulders as he tugged at her hand to guide her.
Ellie had been expecting the sitting room of Darren’s aunt’s home—not the dangerous privacy of a separate building. She watched as Tony inserted his key into the lock, and her nervous brain converted that innocent action into a searing picture of how he might slide into her body. She clenched her fists until her fingernails bit into her palms. Tony pushed the door open, switched on a dim lamp, reached for both her hands and drew her inside.
“I won’t bite,” he said, coaxing her arms up around his neck. Then he lowered his mouth until it was only a fraction away from hers.
“Last chance to say no,” he murmured. His breath puffed warmly on her trembling lips.
Ellie had craved him from the instant she’d seen him. What had started as a bit of flirty holiday fun had swamped her. She’d been seduced by his glorious physique...was helpless to resist his potent charm.
She’d followed him willingly to this private place. Refusing him was no longer an option when her blood fizzed through her veins like champagne, and her whole body had come alight with shuddering anticipation.
She hadn’t dared to say yes, but nothing could have stopped her from rising up on her toes and closing the tiny gap between them.
His mouth was seductive, addictive. He played with her; nipping her bottom lip with his teeth, taking it between his lips and sliding away in erotic damp tingling caresses.
She felt a sinful surge of...what? It made her want to rub over him like a starving cat craving food. She’d murmured his name, squirming against him, trying to climb right inside his skin.
His fingertips traced over her bare shoulders, around the spaghetti-thin straps of her dress, down to the start of the zipper over her spine.
“You taste like jelly beans,” he whispered as he pulled back a little before licking the tender corners of her mouth, flicking his tongue just inside as she stood there astonished. “Jelly beans and temptation.”
He held her face and pressed a small soft kiss to each of the exquisitely aroused places his tongue had explored.
“And you taste even better than chocolate,” she’d murmured against his wandering warm lips.
He sighed. Then his arms slid around her, and his hips settled hard against hers.
xxx
Ellie dragged her thoughts back to the present moment. Nothing could prevent their reunion. Not the horrible events earlier. Not the unromantic hospital atmosphere permeated with antiseptic and dread.
Certainly not her own commonsense and resistance, which had somehow disappeared in the fierce drama of the evening.
Grab him while you can, her brain insisted. You never know what life has in store for you. Live for the moment. No regrets.
Moments later a white faced Gwen and Peter arrived, just as the paediatric surgeon came striding down the corridor with a reassuring smile.
CHAPTER NINE
They strolled from Honeymeade Lodge’s illuminated heli-pad across a lush lawn bordered by low flower beds. All of Ellie’s senses were tuned razor sharp as she anticipated what lay ahead.
The spicy scents of carnations and aromatic catmint infused the soft summer air with sweet fragrance. She breathed it in. “Do you remember that jasmine vine in Sydney?” she asked as they walked. “Whenever I’ve smelled jasmine since then, I’ve thought of that garden.”
“Jasmine?”
“White jasmine winding through the trees at Darren’s auntie’s place.”
She heard his soft laugh. “I was too busy smelling you. Your hair. Your skin.”
A million stars now paid court to the crescent moon which had helped bring them safely here. It was a magic night, just made for lovers.
Temporary lovers, her prickling conscience reminded her. Only temporary.
“I always thought you smelled like the sea,” she said. “Sunshine and the sea.”
xxx
Tony snapped on the light in their suite. One tall lamp and a small decorated Christmas tree sparkled to life.
“What do you want for Christmas, Ellie?” he growled.
“You—early.” As many times as I can have you.
He closed the door with a soft thud, then spun her around into his arms and kissed her with ever growing hunger.
Ellie could have sworn flames rippled between them. Hot enough to melt her so she flowed into every crevice of his flesh.
This is what she’d craved with such desperation, all those cold years alone.
They staggered across the huge room, mouth on mouth, giving and taking deep drugging kisses, moaning incoherently.
“What a bloody awful night,” Tony rasped when they broke apart. “For once in my life I didn’t want to be flying. I simply wanted to be alone with you.” His mouth sought hers again and they crashed together into another explosive kiss.
Ellie thrilled as his hands yanked her aqua top and camisole up, sliding them between their faces so they had to pull apart for a few seconds. “Wait, Tony!”
“Can’t. Want you.” He peeled his shirt away so they embraced skin-against-skin.
“Now?”
“Hell, yes. Right now. Feel how much?”
She did, and he was magnificent.
“Pretend we’re in Sydney again,” he said. “Keep your pretty mouth closed.” He moved to nuzzle at the junction of her nose and top lip. Ellie drew a sharp breath of surprise and remembrance. Her skin was hyper-sensitive there, nerve endings so awakened and astonished that it was the sweetest of tortures. He hadn’t forgotten!
She burned with a flickering fire which scorched its way down through her breasts, her belly, and thighs. A frustrated moan broke the throbbing silence. Undoubtedly hers.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Yes,” she groaned, waiting, waiting for him to resume his savage assault. But instead he reined back his passion, and his very restraint became a powerful aphrodisiac for her. “You’re so lovely,” she whispered, running her hands over his face, under his jaw, down his neck... learning again the curves and textures of him. She watched his black pupils become huge as her fingers ran across his collarbones and downward to explore his broad tickly chest.
“You’re the lovely one, Ellie. Twice as lovely now. Beautiful.”
She murmured her dissent and leaned close, breathing in the scent of his skin. The thrilling muskiness of aroused male filled her nostrils, drowning out the spicy sweetness of the carnations wafting through the open windows. She fastened her opened mouth onto his neck, sucking and licking and moaning, wanting to draw the essence of him deep into her soul.
“I remember the first time I kissed your breasts,” he murmured. “You were so surprised. You w
ere shocked—but not for long.” His big hands cupped her up, and her breath rushed out in a long voluptuous sigh.
“There’s more to play with now,” he said, weighing her tenderly, making her wait.
“Please,” she whispered. “Please.”
She trembled as he bent his head and made his way down, kissing her shoulders, her neck, the upper slopes of her breasts. At last he knelt, and his lips closed around the tight peak of one nipple, sucking and teasing. Ellie gasped as the hot wet sweep of his tongue arrowed through her body.
“Yessssss...” she sighed, almost out of control with the intense and erotic sensations flashing and flickering along every nerve path to the aching centre of her pelvis.
“This is what sent me over the edge in Sydney,” he said hoarsely, drawing away for a moment. “You in my mouth, asking me to make love to you. I didn’t want to get serious about you, knowing I was travelling on. But then things got beyond fun. Beyond light-hearted.”
“Again...again...” she begged, half mad with longing again, barely registering his words. In turn he caught each nipple between his teeth, biting and sucking until both breasts were super-sensitive, and her whole body was alight.
“And then I took you over to my bed,” he said, standing and scooping her into his arms. “Not believing my luck. Not knowing what a gift you were giving me.”
Ellie buried her nose against him, dragging his scent deep into her lungs. His heart beat through the solid wall of his chest and into her ear as he carried her past the twinkling Christmas tree. Only a few slow steps in the luxurious darkened room, hot flesh to hot flesh, but it felt momentous.
The smooth bedcover cooled her naked back, so unlike his rumpled cotton sheets all those years ago in Sydney.
With immoderate speed, she wriggled out of her skirt and panties as he towered above her, pushing down his jeans, a tall silhouette against the lighter panel of a window.
All through her teenage years she’d thought about making love—talked and imagined with girlfriends. And evaded the clumsy boys who’d been so keen to make it happen. But with Tony she’d been achingly ready—racked by a strange deep pain that needed soothing—tormented by a hunger she could no longer endure.