by Margaret Way
Nicole heaved a deep sigh. “Dot, I want you to know there’s no one on Eden to hurt you. In any case, I’m home now. How could you be frightened with me around? I want you back.”
“No, love.” There was a tremor in Dot’s voice. “I don’t know what that man’s going to do next.”
Nicole stared sightlessly at the bookcase, thinking that Dot might need care. “I’ve come especially to take you home. I want you home.”
“No, love,” Dot said again, and shook her head several times, the picture of misery. “The fact is, I’m frightened to come. And I believe you should go away. Back to America. Sell Eden. Go away.”
“I can’t do that, Dot. Eden is my home. I love it. It’s part of me. I cannot, will not, part with it.”
Dot drew a shaky hand across her mouth as if to zip it. “I understand, love. How is Joel?”
“He’s all right, though perhaps he’s not the best person in the world to run Eden since Granddad died.”
“Who could match your granddad?” Dot said simply. “How is Joel with you now you’re home?”
“Fine, I guess. I’m starting to recognize he’s a bit too attached to me.”
Dot listened with averted gaze. “Send him away,” she advised in a trembling voice. “Him and his dad. Your mother wanted to.”
Nicole stared at her. “You’re sure of that?”
“Yes, love.” Dot nodded her head emphatically.
“What about Aunt Siggy?”
“That’s up to you. Miss Sigrid’s a good person. Unhappy underneath. Marrying the wrong man didn’t help much. Neither did seeing him fall in love with her sister. Not that Miss Corrinne ever looked his way.”
Nicole flinched, running a dismayed hand through her hair. “God, Dot, I was always watching,” she protested. “I never saw anything. I was just a kid, but I was never stupid. In fact, I was positively nosey.”
For the first time Dot laughed. Very gently she took Nicole’s face and kissed it. “Didn’t I used to tell you you were too smart? Same as your mama. But you just missed that one thing, though.”
By now Nicole felt unspeakably sad and confused. “I’m going to ask you a very important question, Dot. If you love me, I beg you to answer it truthfully.”
Dot’s face paled as if she was about to be asked more than she could answer. “What is it, child?”
“Is Heath Cavanagh my father, or did my mother deceive him?” Nicole burst out.
Dot’s expression was genuinely shocked. “Why, how wrong you are to question that, Nicole!” she chided. “We’re talking about your mother here. Miss Corrinne. Of course Heath Cavanagh is your father. Never doubt it. Lord, girl, you really can’t see that your mother would never have married him if she’d been carrying David McClelland’s child? Shame on you, Nicole. Shame.”
Nicole lowered her head, feeling chastened. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself asking. Heath’s back on Eden. He’s come home to die. He’s very ill.”
“And you’ve taken him in, believing he mightn’t be your father?” Dot asked.
“Pity overcame everything else.”
“Because you’ve got a good heart. That’s one of your outstanding qualities. But sometimes you do tend to be pigheaded.”
“I know. Thank you, Dot.” Nicole smiled. “Isn’t there something I could say to change your mind? I can’t leave you here.” She looked around. “You really won’t come?”
“No, love.” Dot sounded very sure.
Nicole patted her hand. “Then would you allow me to find you a nice little villa in a good retirement village? The best Brisbane has to offer, or the Gold Coast with its lovely beaches. You need company, friends. Quality facilities. Meals and cleaning taken care of. Attractive grounds to roam in. Would you like that?”
Dot’s eyes brightened, then gradually faded. “I’ve got to watch the pennies, love. Miss Sigrid gave me a lot of money, but sometimes dying isn’t easy. I could last for years and years. My mum died in her nineties.”
“I swear you will, too. You’re family,” Nicole said, taking Dot’s hand. “From now on, you’re going to let me look after you properly, because that’s what I want.”
Dot reached out and squeezed Nicole’s hand. Her tears of joy were the only response Nicole needed.
THE PHONE RANG in her hotel suite. Nicole, quickly unlocking the door, ran to it. It was Drake.
“How’s your day been?”
“Great. How was yours?” Just the sound of his voice had her blood bubbling. When happiness comes, you can’t ignore it even though it could lead to greater unhappiness, she thought, grabbing it before it was gone.
“Just a moment,” he said, obviously turning away to speak to someone in the background.
A murmur of voices, then he was back on the line. “Sorry about that. The meeting went a lot better than expected. And a lot longer. The premier is a good bloke. He listens. Did you find your dress?”
“I did.” Nicole had gone shopping for most of the afternoon.
“You can tell me about it over dinner. I’ll pick you up around seven-thirty if that’s okay? I thought we could walk from the hotel to the restaurant. Five minutes or so. It’s good and it’s on the river.”
“I’m looking forward to it.”
“So am I.” Even as he was hanging up, she could hear voices in the background trying to get his attention. Probably reporters.
She’d bought more than the outfit for Shelley and Brock’s wedding. She’d indulged herself further by buying a dress for tonight. A soft sexy number she found so irresistible she’d never even asked the price. It was a satin wrap dress in a beautiful shade of mulberry.
She was ready before time, incredibly because she wasn’t vain taking many a long look at herself, turning this way and that. Checking. Double-checking. She knew she dressed well. She had good taste—fortunately she could afford to have—but she had never gone all out for allure. This dress was deliciously alluring and fit beautifully.
Stop looking at yourself, Nicole, she admonished, turning away determinedly from her reflection. Drake was the cause of this. He was on her mind all the time. She planned to tell him about her visit to Dot over dinner, the disturbing things Dot had said. Not familiar with retirement villages and how they were run, she had rung the family solicitors asking if one of the secretaries could check out the situation for her and get back. She wanted to see Dot settled in a more cheerful environment. She wanted to help her choose the furniture. Pick out a decent sofa, for a start. The cottage had been rented furnished, and Dot had avoided making a few purchases of her own, convinced she would outlast her mother.
THE RESTAURANT had sweeping views of the river and the city’s nighttime glitter through its floor-to-ceiling windows. The decor was very classy, discreetly opulent with gilt-framed mirrors reflecting the exquisite arrangements of flowers—lots of tropical orchids—the elegant furnishings and the well-dressed guests. Probably all of them regulars who knew a gastronomic experience when they had one. The chef, they learned from the back of the beautifully presented menu, was a young Franco-Japanese who had recently won a prestigious award from a field of the country’s most highly skilled and exciting chefs. The judge had been very enthusiastic in his praise for what was happening on the Australian scene and the important part the cuisine of Southeast Asia had played in it.
“Hungry?” Drake asked, letting his eyes roam over her. She looked so stunning this evening he thought he would carry the memory forever. The color of her dress, so unusual, highlighted the ruby flash of her hair and emphasized the perfection of her skin. Quite extraordinarily it also turned her eyes an iridescent blue.
“Starving!” Her smiling eyes locked with his. “I had a cup of tea and a scone with my old nanny many long hours ago. You remember Dot?”
“Of course I do. Siggy sacked her.”
“No, she didn’t. I’ll tell you what happened if you’re interested.”
“I’m more interested in you.” He reached out and
gently touched her hand. “You look exquisite. I’m utterly bewitched.”
“You’ve told me that before, but you can tell me again.”
“I promise I’ll tell you a hundred times over before the night’s out. I love the dress. Never take it off unless I’m there to help you.”
“You plan to?” The expression in his eyes made her toes curl.
“Are you surprised?”
“No,” Nicole said softly.
THEY STUDIED THEIR MENUS, little shafts of electricity charging the air between them.
Nicole stuck to beautiful Moreton Bay’s legendary seafood. Drake was torn between the carpaccio of coral-reef trout with herbs and the Red Emperor with papaya chili and coconut salsa.
“We can choose dessert later.” He smiled at her.
“You can choose dessert later. I have to watch my figure.”
“I’ll watch it for you.” He leaned closer. “You have the most beautiful breasts.”
She put a forefinger to her mouth, exquisitely conscious of her plunging neckline. “Hush, I can’t take it.”
He smiled. “Don’t worry. I’ve seen you more naked than that.” He sat back, holding his fragile wineglass by the stem, the beads of champagne reflecting a golden-green.
He looked effortlessly right, Nicole thought. The breadth of his shoulders set off the fine tailoring of his charcoal jacket. His ice-white shirt worn with a stylish striped silk tie in gray, gold and black, accentuated his deep tan, the thick raven hair and his extraordinary eyes. She had a sudden mental image of them both in bed, knowing when the moment came she would welcome him.
“So tell me about Dot,” he said after the waiter had taken their order and moved away from their secluded window table. “I suppose you’ve already set about improving her life.”
“She doesn’t want to come back to Eden.”
“Now that surprises me. I thought she was a fixture.”
Her eyes were troubled. “It might come down to Dot’s mental health.”
“Really?” Drake raised an eyebrow. “I would have thought Dot had her head screwed on right. So what are we talking about—early stages of dementia? That’s not fair. That demon Dot married gave her hell. God knows how many times she was hospitalized during their marriage, but she kept going back to him. Inexplicable to me.”
“It happens,” Nicole sighed. “Perhaps the abuse turned her mind. She confessed she left Eden because she was afraid of Alan.”
“Alan?” Drake’s reaction was the same as hers. Naked disbelief. “So she’s lost it?”
“I’ve had to consider that, but in every other respect she’s perfectly normal, the same as ever. Dot was always quiet, but she was a pretty shrewd observer. She said he’s a born actor, which he is. She said he was ‘crazily’—her word—in love with my mother.”
Drake shrugged. “Okay, I can accept that. Lots of men fall for fascinating women. But it would have been a look-not-touch situation.”
“I’m certain my mother hardly noticed him.”
His look was somber. “Given that all the action was elsewhere.”
“What tangled lives we’ve led,” Nicole observed.
“It had a lot to do with sex-charged people being under the same roof. Virtually living in isolation for most of the time,” Drake said. “That sort of intimacy can be suffocating. So we have a hotbed of intrigue. Alan was never in love with his wife. I think we all know why he married her. Siggy was left feeling unloved and unfulfilled. Corrinne had two men madly in love with her—”
“Three, if Dot is correct.”
He grimaced slightly. “Okay, three. Siggy is attracted to the hugely virile Heath. You’ve got a lot of confusion and despair there. Small wonder Joel has problems. Devalued by his grandfather, largely ignored by his father, pressured by his mother… That only left you and Louise, who spoiled the both of you. As for you and Joel—”
“Do you think we should talk about Joel if we want to enjoy ourselves? I told you our relationship is fine.”
“Okay.” He apparently had the sense not to push it.
In the end, after two delicious courses, Nicole couldn’t resist dessert.
“Chocolate, the ultimate aphrodisiac,” Drake joked, then joined Nicole in a slice of a luscious dark-chocolate truffle tart on the sweets trolley.
They lingered over coffee, both conscious of the building sexual tension. “What now?” she asked, aware her voice wasn’t quite steady.
“To your suite, I hope.” He was staring at her intently, his eyes drinking in her face. “I want to feel your body against mine. I want you in bed with me. Anything strange about that?”
Her skin sizzled, yet she shivered. “Sex, excitement, the two of us dressed up for dinner. What’s the real agenda, I wonder?”
“You think I’m after more than your body?” He frowned.
“I know you are. They tell me you’re becoming famous as a strategist.”
“Tell me, what’s my strategy with you? I know you have a vivid imagination.”
She lifted her chin. “So I’ll let it have its head. You could want to take me further into the regions of suffering. You could want revenge for your family—Callista would back you in that. You lock me into a deep relationship, an engagement, then break things off the minute you get Eden. Just like that. Over. It’s been done before.”
His handsome mouth turned down at the corners. “That’s monstrous and cruel. I’d need to hate you to do that.”
“But you don’t love me.” She looked at him levelly.
“Are either of us able to move on to love, Nicole?” he asked quietly.
“Oh, I hope so!” Her tone was intense. “But love might have seized up. In my experience loving is loss. I’ve learned to protect myself for emotional survival.”
“But the desire is there.” He leaned forward and held her wrist. “Neither of us can deny it. I always thought you were brave, Nicole, not scared.”
She looked down at his strong tanned hand on her narrow wrist. Against his skin, hers was the color of milk. “Desire that flares brilliantly has the potential to destroy. We both know that.”
“Maybe we should go together for counseling,” he suggested wryly, releasing her and leaning back.
She had to smile. “I don’t know that I’d argue with that. Another thing I wanted to mention and get your view on. Shelley Logan told me she learned from Brock that Joel had been seeing Dr. Rosendahl.”
Drake’s black eyebrows drew together. “As in doctor, patient?”
“Yes.”
“Why would Joel tell Brock that? They’re not at all friendly. Never have been.”
“Their paths must have crossed. Apparently Joel didn’t mean to divulge the information. It slipped out in the course of what I imagine was a heated conversation.”
“Is there any other kind with Joel?” Drake asked. “Why would he want to see Rosendahl? I thought the man rather frightened him.”
“What did Joel have to be frightened about?” The notion made her feel anxious.
“Nic, darling, why don’t you ask him?” he challenged.
“Maybe I will,” she retorted.
“If it’s true, Joel had to get to Sydney, as Rosendahl practiced there. He must have been feeling especially bad. Despite all his talk about shrinks, he must have thought the good doctor could help him as he helped you. Rosendahl knew the whole story. It’s much like going to a doctor who knows your case history. It makes things easier. Joel could have been living for years with some information he wanted to get off his chest.”
“Like what? Aren’t you forgetting the whole family was grilled for hours by the police?”
“Joel never took the witness stand.”
“He knew nothing,” she protested. “He was only sixteen at the time.”
“He could have lied about someone, something. He could have shoved it all to the back of his mind and thrown away the key. Forgetfulness is just another form of lying.”
“Except
he wouldn’t have protected my—”
“Go on, say it.”
She was startled, a little daunted by the darkening look on his face. “I was going to say it, Drake, if you’d given me the chance. My father, Heath.”
“Finally!” He threw up a hand. “Dot’s opinion—knowing you, you would have asked her—must have carried some weight.”
She gazed out the window to the floodlit promenade. Couples were strolling arm in arm, enjoying the view of the city skyline and the balmy breeze off the river. A City Cat had docked a short distance off, and passengers, mostly young people, disembarked, laughing, chattering, set for a night on the town.
“It doesn’t take much to scratch the surface of our renewed friendship, does it?”
He shrugged. “Keeping to safe subjects is a high-wire act. Both of us fall off. You’re right in a way. Coming together sexually, marvelous as it was, has only complicated things. Our emotions are heightened. I’m not planning on making you unhappy, Nic. Believe me. I care about you. I always have.”
“I wish I believed that.” She smiled a little, but her face was serious.
He reached for her hand again, lean fingers causing her flesh to tingle. “I’m no psychiatrist, but you’re still pretty much mixed up.”
“And you want to rescue me?”
“Maybe I’m the only one who can,” he said.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
HE TOOK HER HAND as they walked back to the hotel. The breeze off the river was like black silk. The gardens that lined both sides of the promenade were filled with lush tropical plants, the gorgeous blossoms of the tuberose, the white ginger and gardenia scenting the air so heavily it was almost dripping perfume. Standing tall above the garden beds, the palms whispered sensuously as the wind stroked their long curving fronds.
Headlights beamed at them as they waited to cross the road. His hand shifted to the sensitive flesh of her upper arm, rested near her breast. She felt intoxicated, out of balance, pierced through with sexual urgency.