His eyes narrowed. “Yeah, they’ll last. Maybe I should make it clearer. My relationships don’t last, I don’t want them to, I don’t seek to make them work. You’re an ever after kind of woman, Cindy, and I’m not an ever after kind of man. That’s why I don’t choose you as my type of woman. I want sex, the instant gratification, no strings attached. You’re not that kind of woman.” Closing his mouth tightly, he regarded her steadily.
Daringly.
Bloody man.
“So, you think I’m not your type, huh?” She retorted furiously. “You choose your type of woman. What the hell do you know about me, Tim? What? I’ll tell you. Sweet bloody nothing. You think I have forever after on my mind. You think I need a man to make my life complete. Boy, are you barking up the wrong tree - hound dog.” Stabbing a forefinger into his chest, she snarled. “Listen good, sunshine. I choose who I sleep with. Who I have sex with. And so far, my choices haven’t been the forever after kind of bloke. Do you know why?”
Tim’s nostrils were flaring and the heat wasn’t just coming from his body, his eyes fairly burned with fire. “Do tell.”
“Because I don’t need a bloke to make my life complete. I make my own choices, and listen up sunshine, here’s a bloody big tip for you. Tonight I’ll have sex with whomever I please, just like you will, and I’ll damned well like it because it’s my choice. Raise a flag for the revolution, Tim, because a woman’s world doesn’t revolve around you!”
Chapter Six
One hard shove and she stalked past him, ripping open the French door with enough furious power to send it slamming into Tim as he came after her. The bang of him hitting the glass was balm to her ears, and his cursing followed her into the room. A yank of the curtains and she was inside, moving through the dancers with dexterity and speed, a smile on her face, head held high, and calmness in every step.
Inside, her temper roiled. Goddamn Tim for being such a bloody egotistical jerk. And damn her for wanting to cry about it. She was so mad she wanted to hit someone - preferably Tim.
Half expecting him to chase after her, she glanced back over her shoulder to find him bent over Nancy, his sixty year old, outrageous-mannered date he brought to all his mother’s parties to annoy her.
Nancy was speaking seriously to him, smiling outwardly, but her gaze fastened on his face. Tim was listening, but his own gaze was on Cindy, his brown eyes sparking with temper and - no, with temper only, don’t think of anything else.
“Cindy.” Mr Lawson stepped into her path. “This is - are you all right?”
“Absolutely fine,” she replied smoothly, smiling up at the man by his side.
Knowing the signs of his daughter in a temper, Mr Lawson looked at her with concern.
Cindy gave him a smile and a nod. “Were you going to introduce me to…?”
“Yes, of course.” With a last hard look at her, Mr Lawson gestured to the man. “Robert Dunsbrough. We’re in talks to buy his chain of home ware shops.”
“Pleasure to meet you.” Slipping smoothly into her role of dutiful daughter and cool assessor of the opposition, Cindy shook Robert’s hand. “I’m Cindy.”
Robert smiled and she didn’t miss the cold glint in his eyes. She’d seen it many times since accompanying her father or brothers to meet new clients. One of her roles was to meet and greet, play the dutiful daughter, and assess the competition or potential seller of a business while doing so. Her insight into the seller or buyer was a boon to her family.
Cindy played her role well.
Satisfied that all was done according to their personal plans, Mr Lawson greeted someone else and left them alone on the excuse of needing to talk to an acquaintance.
“I didn’t know the family had such a charming daughter.” Robert held out his arm. “Dance?”
Like hell he didn’t know. Smiling, Cindy accepted, and immediately he slid his arm around her waist and swung her onto the dance floor.
It didn’t take Cindy long to find out what Robert was like. The man was a sleaze. He tried to charm her, flowering her with compliments, showering her family with compliments, practically eating her up in his efforts to win her over. After all, win over daddy’s weighty little girl and he might be halfway to making a huge sale.
For her part, Cindy pretended to lap up his compliments, while asking leading questions, probing deeper, and without him even being aware of it, Robert spilled more than he meant to, right into her shrewd, listening ear.
It was a shame she couldn’t ignore Tim’s words as easily as she ignored Robert’s, she thought, catching a glimpse of Tim swinging Nancy through a waltz. The man danced like an expert and she could just imagine how much fun it would be to dance in his arms instead of Robert’s.
Forcing herself to concentrate, Cindy remained by Robert’s side, just as he’d obviously planned, going by the way he tried to ply her with champagne and more verbal crap.
He was so confident, in fact, that by the time Cindy was ready to leave Robert had offered to take her home. About to refuse, she saw Tim watching her and with a glare in his direction, she turned and smiled up at Robert. “How sweet of you.”
As he led her away, her hand on his forearm, Cindy passed her father. Stopping before him, she gave him a hug. “See you later, Dad.” And right before she removed her arms, she whispered, “Don’t touch his business with a ten foot pole.”
That was enough for Mr Lawson and he gave her a fatherly smile and wink.
Robert had a driver and limousine, and whisked Cindy home in it. Expertly rebutting his self-invitation to come inside, Cindy begged a headache - oldest cliché in the book - and headed into the house, only to stop and swear as the door shut behind her because she’d forgotten about Al.
Fine mother she was! How could she forget about Al?
Peeking through the lounge room curtains, she saw the taillights of the limousine disappear down the drive. Even though she hadn’t drunk much champagne and was sober as a church-mouse, Cindy rung for a taxi.
When the knock came at her door, it was to find Marty standing there with his hands in his pockets and lipstick on his cheek and askew collar.
“Not quite your shade,” Cindy observed.
“Told you, the women like a little danger.” The amusement left his eyes. “Damn it, Cindy, you know you don’t go home with clients.”
“I beg your pardon?” Her temper, simmering beneath the surface, kicked up a notch.
Realising what he’d said, Marty held up a hand. “Sorry. Let me rephrase that.”
“It’d pay you.”
“Was it wise to let that total sleaze take you home?”
“He’s trying to make good with Dad, so he wouldn’t try anything with me.” Cindy pulled the door shut behind her. “Is that my taxi?”
“No, it’s mine. We met yours at the gate and I paid him off.” Marty grinned a little. “Forget someone, did you?”
“I’m a terrible mother.”
“Aw, you’re not that bad.” Slinging his arm across her shoulders, he led her down the steps. “Come on, let’s go get my nephew. Mind you, he’s so young to have all that hair. Can’t be from our side of the family.”
Laughing, Cindy got into the taxi.
~*~
Standing in the shadows of a veranda pillar with his hands in his pockets, Tim watched Cindy get into the limousine with Robert. Jesus, didn’t she have enough sense to know what a sleaze he was? He couldn’t even fathom why any woman would get into close quarters with the man.
The limousine swung out into the drive and he watched the tail lights disappear towards the road.
“She’s a good girl.” The frosty tones of his mother sounded beside him.
“The stamp of approval?” he asked without looking at her.
“No. I’m just saying that she’s a good girl.”
“Ah. A warning, then.”
“Cindy Lawson isn’t stupid, she has good connections though lacks the social graces necessary for our circles, and she n
eeds to lose weight.”
“Wow, I am so impressed. Praise and the tearing down of confidence all in one shot.” He raised his glass in her direction. “Way to go, Mother.”
“Don’t be tiresome, Timothy. I see you brought that ridiculous woman along as your date again.”
“Nancy. She’s wild in the sack, by the way.”
“Your constant attempts to annoy me makes you juvenile.”
“You make my heart bleed.”
Dr Clarke sighed. “When will you get your life together?”
“I have a life. I’m a vet working in a good practice.” He took a sip from the can of beer.
You work a low-paying job at a vet clinic owned by your father’s sister.”
“Yes, Aunt Hannah owns the clinic.” Tim stared towards the road, only half listening to his mother’s words.
“If you’re going to lower the tone of our family name by working with animals, the least you can do is own your own clinic. Bigger and better than the others in this city, in fact. Make something of yourself. God knows your father wouldn’t have done so without me pushing him.”
“And now he’s pushing up daisies. Good on you, Mother. You hounded him to death”
Her silence was so cold that he half expected frostbite to set into his extremities. When she spoke, her words were positively frigid. “At least marry according to our status. You can marry well and then play at being a vet.”
Turning his head, he gave his mother a look full of loathing. “I don’t play at being a vet. I am a vet, and a damned good one.”
“Then make more of yourself. If you applied yourself, you could be a professor at the university, teaching others. That would be so much more suitable.”
“I don’t want to teach. I like working with animals, being hands on.” He gave a very childish, but impressively loud, burp. “Oops. Sorry. That’s what happens when you’re a low-life and drink beer from a tin. Must be Dad’s side of the family coming out in me.”
Dr Clarke gave him one frosty stare, equally as loathing, before she swung away and walked indoors.
“Are you saying your Dad’s side of the family is uncouth?” Aunt Hannah peered up from near the shrubs that lined the house.
“Oh damn. No, of course not. I’m sorry, Aunt Hannah.” Groaning, Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “And I beg your pardon for that very rude and un-gentlemanly expelling of air.”
With a light laugh, Hannah leaned her arms on the rail of the steps. “I was impressed by it, actually.” Reaching out, she took Tim’s can and swallowed a good mouthful. She also swallowed some air, thought about it, concentrated and managed a teeny burp. “Rats.”
Tim laughed. “You need some practice.”
“Obviously.” Resting her chin on her arms, she gazed up at him.
Tim took a couple of steps down and sat, putting him on eye level with her. “Why do I come here?” He sighed.
“Because you got the summons from Hell?”
“Why don’t I just stop coming?”
“Why don’t you?”
“I don’t know. Sadomasochism, perhaps?”
“A family trait.”
“Really?”
“Yes. On your mother’s side.”
They both snickered.
“Okay,” Hannah finally said after a few minutes. “Time to be the responsible adult.”
“Me?”
“No, me. Well, both of us, really. Your Mum is a bitch. I know it, you know it, the whole world knows it. But honey, it’s time you moved on.”
“I’ve never been good enough for her, Aunt Hannah.” Heart heavy, Tim turned the tin around in his hands. “Never.”
“Sweetie, you could do everything she asked and you’d never be good enough.”
“That’s comforting. Why did she have me, then?”
“You’re the heir.”
“Jesus, she couldn’t manage the spare?”
“No, she didn’t want to spoil her figure with any more kids.”
“I’m surprised she didn’t use a surrogate.”
“God forbid, no. She had to make sure you came directly from her.” Hannah shrugged. “She only needed one and she got one. You.”
“You’re not being very comforting.”
“It’s nothing you don’t already know, Timmy.” Reaching out, she brushed a stray lock of hair back from his forehead. “And what I’m going to tell you, you already know as well. You’re a top vet, the best in the city. Probably in the whole damned state. Probably not the best in Australia, though.”
He grinned crookedly at her.
“You mean the world to me. You’re the son I never had.”
“Thanks.” His heart got a little lighter.
“You mean everything to your clients, to your patients, to your friends.”
“To the women I date.”
“No, not to them.”
Tim looked at her.
Hannah shook her head. “You’re nothing but a deep pocket to them. A money maker. The heir to the Clarke fortune.”
“Thanks again.” This time there was a bit of sarcasm in his words.
“Don’t give me that tone, boy.” She arched one fine brow. “You know as well as I do that you date those cold-hearted, money-grabbing bitches because you can dismiss them as easily as your mother dismisses you.”
Blowing out a breath, he stared into the darkness. Behind him sounded music and laughter.
He definitely wasn’t laughing.
“You’ve got a great life, Tim, if only you’d take control of it a little more.”
Surprised, he stared at her. “What?”
“I’m talking about your dating habits.”
“Look, that’s my business-”
“Sure. And I’m tramping all over it.” Completely unrepentant, she wagged her finger inches from his nose. “You’d have a perfect life if you addressed that part of it. That’s the part that sucks. Let your issues with your mother go, let your resentment go, and get on with your life.”
Anger started to simmer inside him. “When did this get to be my fault?”
“It’s not your fault. Never was your fault. Your mother carries a lot of the blame, and your father, God rest his push-over soul, also carries part of the blame. He should have stuck up for you more often.”
Tim glared at her. “He left me the money in a trust fund so that I could attend uni. He knew I wanted to be a vet.”
“He was a fine man, but he didn’t speak his mind often enough when Margaret kept hounding you. He should have spoken up more.” Hannah looked him directly in the eyes.
Damn it, she spoke the truth. But he didn’t like to think of his dad that way. His memories were always of his dad being warm and loving and just…Dad.
“Now, honey.” Hannah rubbed his arm. “I have to go in. But you think about what I said.”
“Every nasty word?”
“Keep that tone, boy, and I’ll kick your hindquarters like they’ve never been kicked before.”
Tim had the decency to flush. “Sorry, Aunt Hannah. I know you mean well.”
“I do.” Standing up, she walked around to the bottom of the steps and came up briskly, stopping to bend down and kiss the top of his head in a motherly fashion. “And I do it because I love you.”
“That’s what Mother always said.” He attempted a grin, but it came off poorly.
“Your Mother loves in her fashion. It’s just not of this world. More like Hell.”
Tim couldn’t stop the laugh that broke free, and Hannah smiled and patted his shoulder before heading indoors.
He stayed where he was, staring out into the darkness. Lost in thought, he jumped when a pair of shiny dress shoes landed squarely level with his backside on the stone step. Looking up, he found his gaze ensnared by Martin Lawson.
“Just a warning, Clarke,” Marty growled. “You seem a sort-of okay bloke, but hurt Cindy and I’ll slice and dice you.”
“Jesus, it must be the night for warnings.”
Tim shook his head.
“Just keep it in the back of your mind the next time you look at my sister.” Marty returned to the party.
Standing up, Tim shook his head again. It was time to find Nancy and go home. He’d had enough of everyone and their words of wisdom or warning.
Nancy, however, had found an admirer and was in no mood to stop partying.
“I’ll drop the little lady home,” said the portly, red-faced, elderly man with his arm looped around a giggling Nancy’s waist.
“Are you sure?” Tim asked her.
“Of course. Arnold here assures me I’m in good hands.” She winked. “If you know what I mean.”
Arnold guffawed.
Tim grimaced. “I’d rather not think about it.”
“Don’t worry, old boy.” Arnold clapped a hand on Tim’s shoulder and breathed whiskey fumes in his face. “I’ll take care of Nancy and bring her home safe and sound.”
“Your mean your chauffer will, correct? Because I seriously date you can walk a straight line right now.”
“Of course my chauffer! Your little Nancy will be right as rain.” He winked again. “And happy as a lark.”
Nancy waved Tim goodbye and they disappeared into the crowd.
Seriously, his old friend was going to get laid and he couldn’t even find a woman to interest him. What were the odds?
Turning to leave, Tim was stopped by Nancy reappearing to grab his arm. Her face was serious, all laughter gone. “You all right, Timmo?”
“Fine.” He smiled reassuringly.
“I don’t have to go with Arnold. I came with you, you’re my date.”
“When has that ever stopped you?” He patted her hand. “Go and enjoy yourself.”
“I’m worried about you.”
“No need to be, I’m a big boy. I’m going to take one of the limousines mother has kindly put on standby for guests who didn’t bring their own cars, go home and go to bed.”
“Timmo-”
“Go.” Turning her around, he gave her a gentle push. “Enjoy. Tell me about it all tomorrow.”
He didn’t bother to bid goodbye to his mother.
By the time he got home, his annoyance had grown. Yanking off his jacket, he threw it on the armchair. Going into the kitchen, he took a beer from the ‘fridge and popped the tab.
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