’Merci.’
No man had the right to look so darned sexy, or possess a voice that sounded like melted chocolate being dribbled over ice cream. Smooth, very smooth, she perceived. Yet there was tensile steel beneath the smoothness. The hardness of a man well-versed in the frailties of his fellow men.
Without a further word she turned and retraced her steps. In her aunt’s kitchen she set about cleaning up, then when it was done she made herself a light, fluffy omelette, added a salad, and took the plate into the dining room.
Tomorrow night she’d serve him everything stuffed…carpet steak with an exotic sauce, stuffed mushrooms, zucchini, tomatoes and potatoes. She would even bake a vanilla sponge for dessert and stuff it with fresh strawberries and cream whipped with kirsch.
And Monday… She positively glowed at the thought of what she could do with seafood.
Anneke prayed fervently that if he didn’t already have an ulcer, her epicurean offerings would soon provide him with one. Revenge, she determined, would be sweet.
Very sweet, she determined, upon waking next morning to the shrilling sound of an electric skill-saw cutting through wood.
Anneke spared a glance at her watch. Six-thirty. A half-hour earlier than yesterday. At least this morning she wasn’t the victim of only a few hours’ sleep.
If Sebastian Lanier was playing a game, then so, too, would she.
A slight smile played over her lips and she slid from the bed. A visit to the bathroom, then she pulled on briefs, shorts, and a singlet top. Her hair she deftly twisted into a single braid and let it fall between her shoulders. Then she slipped her feet into joggers and went to the back door with a ready smile in place.
He wore the same faded stonewashed jeans from the day before, and a different tee-shirt. Nice muscle structure, tight butt, firm waist, with no visible fat apparent on that mean frame.
‘Good morning,’ she greeted as she ran lightly down the few steps. ‘I had no idea Aunt Vivienne needed more repairs. What is it today?’
He pulled the switch on the electric saw and straightened as he turned to face her. The dark hair was neatly bound, but he had forgone the morning shave. It gave him a distinctly piratical look, and heightened the planes of his face, sculpted hard cheekbones and emphasised the strength of his jaw.
If he’d suffered a restless night due to indigestion, it didn’t show.
‘A section of the picket fence needs replacing. New posts, new palings.’
She widened the smile, and her eyes took on a sparkling gleam. ‘How kind. Aunt Vivienne will be pleased.’ She turned towards the path leading down to the beach, then cast him a backward glance over one shoulder. ‘Have a nice day.’
Anneke broke into a leisurely jog, and on reaching the sand she crossed down to the water’s edge and ran parallel to the shoreline until she reached the outward curve of the bay, then she slowed to a halt and went through her usual morning exercise routine.
She deliberately took her time, and when she returned to the cottage Sebastian was nowhere in sight. The carpenter’s horse, any wood cut-offs had been cleared away, and a brief glance along the length of picket fence displayed the new section in place.
A muted throaty purr from an engine sounded loud in the morning’s silence, and she turned towards its source. Reversing from Sebastian’s garage was a late model Range Rover, with, she soon saw, Sebastian at the wheel.
So he was going out. Good, she thought happily as she let herself into the cottage. She had a few household chores to perform, then she’d shower and put a call through to Aunt Vivienne. After lunch she intended to curl up in a comfortable chair and read until it was time to begin preparing Sebastian’s dinner.
Anneke had just finished lunch when the phone rang, and she crossed the room and lifted the receiver from its handset.
Her usual cheery greeting brought no response, so she repeated it. Still nothing. She was about to hang up when she heard the soft sound of human breathing.
Even, steady, it became louder and faster, until there could be no mistaking the implied simulation.
She cut the connection in one quick movement, then stood transfixed for several seconds before shaking herself free from momentary shock.
It was simply a random call, she attempted to rationalise. Perhaps some kid with too much time on his hands was getting his kicks from indiscriminate dialling.
Yet it gave her an eerie feeling, one that was difficult to dispel as she tried valiantly to lose herself in the plot of the current mystery she was reading.
Preparations for Sebastian’s dinner didn’t take overlong, and at a few minutes to six she took the loaded tray and carried it across to his cottage.
Sebastian appeared at the door seconds after she knocked. A white tee-shirt was teamed with black jeans, and both fitted snug on his frame.
He surveyed her with interest, caught the seemingly pleasant smile, and wasn’t deceived.
His gaze flicked to the tray in her hand, and he didn’t know whether to castigate or commend her.
Much depended on whether last night’s meal had been a one-off, or if she’d duplicated dishes of which, while each separate one was a gourmet delight, the combination left something to be desired.
He thought of the rich bombe au chocolat reposing on a shelf in his refrigerator. Death by chocolate? Somehow he had the feeling the dessert was meant to be his bête noir.
‘Enjoy.’
‘Thank you,’ Sebastian acknowledged as he took the tray, watching as she took a few seconds to fondle Shaef’s ears. Then she turned towards Vivienne’s cottage, and he viewed the elegant sway of her hips with male appreciation before taking the tray to the dining room table.
Shaef cast him an enquiring look and pricked his ears.
‘That makes two of us,’ Sebastian murmured as he placed dishes onto the table, caught up cutlery, and removed covers.
It only took a glance to interpret Anneke’s meaning. Get stuffed. A slow, musing smile widened his mouth.
Vivienne’s niece had gone to considerable trouble to exact revenge.
With deft movements he consigned the sponge, strawberries and cream concoction to the refrigerator.
Pride had prevented her from serving up burnt offerings, or the blandest of fare. Pride, and loyalty to her aunt.
Well, he wouldn’t spoil Anneke’s game.
He, too, could employ a little subterfuge. If most all of the minor repairs around Vivienne’s property were completed within a week instead of the months she’d originally suggested, then so be it.
A slow smile curved his mouth, and the edges lifted in humour. And if he ran out of things to do, then he would invent some.
Sebastian sat down at the table and carefully removed a portion of stuffing from each vegetable, then sliced into the delectable-looking steak.
A man would need to be wary around a woman like Anneke. His lips twitched and his eyes gleamed with cynical amusement. If each prepared meal provided an indication of her mood, then the next week or two could prove interesting.
Afterwards he scraped discarded stuffing into the refuse bin, made recklessly strong coffee, then carried it through to the office, turned on the computer screen and began to work.
Intrigued to discover within a short space of time that a minor female character of his creation had developed a few traits that changed stoic to sassy.
Anneke surveyed the number of pots and kitchen utensils atop the kitchen benchtop and wrinkled her nose at the folly of creating culinary mayhem.
Rinse and soak, she decided, then she’d attack the dishes when she’d eaten her own modest meal of salad greens with nuts, fresh cantaloupe, mango and feta cheese.
Afterwards, she’d thumb through Aunt Vivienne’s numerous cookbooks and plot a menu for tomorrow evening’s meal, then list the ingredients she needed to buy.
At nine Aunt Vivienne rang, with an update on Elise’s health and the latest monitor results on the unborn twins. It was a case of ‘no chan
ge’ being good news.
Almost as soon as Anneke replaced the receiver, her mobile phone rang, and she indulged in a lengthy chat with a friend in Sydney before ending the call and retiring to bed with a book.
The morning brought a light rain, and after a leisurely breakfast Anneke showered and changed, then drove to Byron Bay to collect fresh seafood.
On impulse she opted to spend the day baking, and purchased ingredients to make a Christmas cake. Several small ones, she decided, would make excellent gifts for friends, wrapped in red and green Cellophane and tied with decorative ribbons. She could take them back with her, or, if she chose to lengthen her stay, then she could consign them via the postal service.
It rained on and off all day. Alternate heavy and light showers with very little time in between.
The kitchen was soon redolent with various aromas, as Anneke washed and soaked a variety of dried fruit in sherry and brandy.
By mid-afternoon shortbread, cut in fingers, lay cooling on baking racks. There was one tin filled with rumballs, another with fudge brownies. Tomorrow she’d bake Christmas cakes.
A quick glance at her watch determined it was time to begin preparing Sebastian’s evening meal.
A secretive smile teased the edges of her mouth. She almost wished she could see his expression when he uncovered a platter containing miso soup thick with seaweed and tofu, grilled eel in a rich oyster sauce, sushi with slices of raw fish and seaweed delicacies, and faux caviare. Flavoured tofu with fruit comprised dessert.
Sebastian heeded her knock, caught her carefully composed expression, and was immediately on guard.
He mentally conjured the thick T-bone steak he’d removed from the freezer earlier in the day, the makings for a salad he could put together in minutes, and sought to protect his palate.
‘Why not join me tomorrow night?’
‘I wouldn’t dream of interrupting your work,’ she responded with extreme politeness.
‘An hour or two won’t cause much damage.’
‘Damage’ was the operative word, and she didn’t covet an hour in his company, much less two. Besides, if she shared a meal with him she’d have to resort to conventional cooking, and that would definitely spoil the fun.
‘Maybe another time.’ Without a further word she turned and retraced her steps.
It was as well he liked Japanese food, although he conceded her choice of dishes was probably as deliberate as it was unusual. The dessert joined the chocolate bombe and the strawberry sponge sitting in his refrigerator.
Anneke checked the dried fruit, stacked shortbread into one of her aunt’s cake tins, then cleaned up the kitchen.
After a day of preparing food, she opted for something simple for her own meal, and followed it with a bowl of fresh fruit. She added ice to a glass, filled it with water, then carried it through to the lounge and switched on the television.
The phone rang at nine. She remembered the time, as she glanced at her watch. Even as she picked up the receiver she had the instinctive feeling this was going to be a repeat of yesterday’s nuisance call.
Bingo, Anneke registered as no one answered her greeting, and within seconds she could hear audible breathing on the line.
Who would do something like this? It couldn’t be aimed at Aunt Vivienne, surely? Yet who knew Anneke was here?
She cut the connection and replaced the handset, then stood staring at the telephone as if willing it to divulge relevant information.
For five minutes she hovered in the kitchen, wiping down bench surfaces that had already been wiped, checking cupboards, the refrigerator, the pantry. Just in case the call was repeated.
The thought crossed her mind that perhaps she should report it. But what could the police do, except relay advice she was already aware of?
CHAPTER FOUR
SEVERAL friends were aware of Anneke’s mobile listing, but she hadn’t told anyone of her whereabouts or given out Aunt Vivienne’s number. And no one she knew would make a nuisance, heavy breathing, non-speaking call then hang up.
She had no enemies, and no one she knew would wish her harm. So who? A frown creased her forehead. A misdialled number? Once, maybe. But twice indicated it to be premeditated.
The microwave digital display indicated a few minutes before six. Damn. There was no reason to front the day at such an early hour, and yet she felt too unsettled to simply sit around and do nothing.
A jog along the length of the beach followed by a swim in the cool, clear ocean would clear her mind, then she’d drive into Byron Bay and explore the shops for an hour or two. After lunch she’d mix the Christmas cakes and consign them into the oven.
This early there was a fresh newness to the day, apparent in the warmth of the sun’s rays, the golden sand crisp from its tidal cleanse.
Anneke set a leisurely pace along the Bay’s gentle curve to the outcrop of rocks before turning to retrace her steps.
It was then she saw a lone male figure closing the distance between them, his pace measuring hers in relaxed style but covering the sand more quickly due to a longer stride.
There was no disguising the tall, muscular frame, and if there was any doubt the dark hair sleekly bound at his nape provided recognition.
Sebastian.
Clad in dark sweat-shorts and singlet, he looked like something out of a health and fitness magazine. The sweatband round his head lent a credible likeness to an Apache brave.
The mental switch in image brought a smile to her lips and lit her eyes with a mischievous sparkle.
She watched with detached admiration as he drew close: the fluid flex of well-honed muscle and sinew, the lithe, animalistic grace of perfectly co-ordinated body movement.
At this stage most men would have bunched up their pectoral muscles, flung back their shoulders in an effort to impress a female of the species.
Sebastian merely slowed his stride and came to an easy halt. Lacking was the expected sheen of sweat; nor was there any evidence of shortness of breath.
’Bonjour.’
‘Hi.’
The easy smile deepened the vertical crease in each cheek, and there was an appreciative gleam in those dark eyes.
‘I didn’t expect to see you out this early.’
Dammit, why did it take one glance at his mouth to bring vividly to mind how it felt to have it cover her own? And why, a silent voice taunted, should some internal flame ignite and flare into deep, pulsing life with anticipation that it might?
‘I rarely sleep in.’ She hadn’t meant to sound defensive.
Touchy. Definitely touchy. And he wondered why. ‘I wasn’t aware I’d implied that you do,’ he said quietly.
Oh, hell. She had the distinct feeling he could see inside her mind, and meaningful conversation at this hour of the morning wasn’t her intention.
‘Must keep the heart-rate up,’ she indicated, preparing to sprint away from him.
‘We could run together.’
‘Sorry,’ Anneke declared without compunction. ‘I run for fun. You,’ she said with certainty, ‘adhere to a more professional pace.’ She even summoned a slight smile. ‘And I wouldn’t suggest you alter it solely for my benefit.’ She broke into a light sprint, then slowed her pace when she had put some distance between them.
It wasn’t easy to ignore the faint prickle of awareness teasing the hairs on her nape.
His very presence irked her. He made her feel vulnerable, and she didn’t like it any more than she liked him.
There were no messages on the answering machine, but her mobile showed one missed call, and when she checked voice mail all she heard was an indistinct whisper followed by the silent click of a replaced receiver.
Her stomach gave a small lurch, then settled.
Adam? Even as the thought intruded, she dismissed it. Adam Lloyd Chambers was a legal eagle of impeccable lineage, admired by his associates and a pillar within his social community.
The fact he had a penchant for sexual dalliances didn�
��t alter the fact he was an unlikely candidate to make nuisance calls. Besides, she couldn’t see him doing anything to jeopardise his career or his partnership.
Anneke made for the bathroom, showered and washed her hair, then dressed in tailored shorts, added a cotton top. She cut up a selection of fruit, added cereal, then followed it with a poached egg on toast for breakfast.
She put a small load of washing through the machine, and after completing some essential housework she caught up her keys and drove into Byron Bay with the intention of browsing through the many craft shops, maybe taking time out to sip a cappuccino at one of several outdoor cafés before purchasing a selection of fresh fruit and a few staple vegetables.
The aroma of freshly baked bread was irresistible, and she entered the shop, purchased a baguette and a few savoury scrolls, then emerged out onto the pavement.
Some ham, a wedge of Brie, and a delicious salad would suffice as lunch. Then she’d curl up in the capacious cane chair on her aunt’s porch and lose herself in a book until it was time to prepare dinner.
‘Well, now, girl, what’s that you’ve got there?’
She heard the voice, took in the thin face, the long, unkempt hair, the nose-stud, the eyebrow-ring, and a range of studs and earrings attached to each ear. The loose-flowing shirt looked as if it hadn’t been washed in weeks, likewise the frayed and slashed jeans.
One glance at those eyes was enough for her to determine this was no peace-loving New Age devotee. They were dark, beady, and mean.
Trouble. Unless she handled him carefully.
Anneke lifted one shoulder in a careless shrug. ‘Bread, fruit and vegetables.’ She made to move past him, and saw the subtle shift of his body as he stepped close.
Damn. ‘You’re in my way,’ she stated calmly.
‘That’s a problem?’
‘It could be.’
‘So, what you gonna do, pretty girl?’ he mocked.
‘Any one of a number of things.’
He leered at her, and ran the tip of his tongue over his lower lip. ‘Such as?’ His mouth parted in a soundless laugh. ‘Scream?’
‘How’s your pain level?’ Anneke countered matter-off-actly.
The Seduction Season Page 3