Darcy was hesitant. He felt her breath hitch, then heard her groan as she opened her lips beneath his. He slid his tongue inside her mouth, feeling the hot, wet cavern suck him in. One arm stole around his neck, and he wasn’t sure if he backed her up against the wall or if she tugged him closer, only that suddenly his body was pressed against hers, and he wanted to get a whole lot closer.
Her tongue duelled with his, and he moaned as her breasts rubbed against his chest. One of her hands toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck, driving him crazy with the erotic scrape of nails that slid up over his scalp. Her injured arm rested on his, and he supported it gently, conscious of her injury. She arched her back, pressing closer, her hips cradling his arousal. He rubbed himself against her, intense pleasure flooding him, robbing him of reason.
He slid his hand up from the narrow indent of her waist, searching for and finding the weight of her breast. He felt himself harden as his thumb swept across the nipple that peaked through her T-shirt and bra. He palmed her breast, and she moaned against his lips, her hips making sexy little movements against his. God, he felt like he was about to burst.
He wanted her in his bed. Panting and eager for him, just like this. Spread across his sheets, her cheeks rosy as they gave each other pleasure. Right down the hall from his kids. He broke the kiss, sucking in a deep calming breath. He shouldn’t be doing this. His kids…
‘We shouldn’t be doing this,’ he whispered against her lips.
He felt her shudder against him, her head tilting back against the wall, the fires in her gaze slowly banking as she tried to get her breath under control. Each time she inhaled, her nipples shifted against him, and he almost dragged her down to the floor.
He stepped back, and she blinked. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, and her face bloomed with colour.
Oh, no. He didn’t want her to feel bad, damn it. He shook his head. ‘No, you’ve got nothing to apologise for. I’m the one who should be apologising.’ Should, but wouldn’t. Because that would make it wrong, and that kind of wrong felt too good to say no to. ‘You’re a guest in my home, you saved my children. You should be able to rest and recuperate without me groping you in the hallway.’
Even as he said the words, he wanted to grope her again. And that made him feel like a jerk. This was Darcy, for Pete’s sake. She wasn’t some socialite looking for a quick shag, a happy snap in the newspaper’s gossip section and a casual wave goodbye. No, she was a warm, sincere woman who had only shown him and his family the deepest generosity, and she was looking at him with a combination of embarrassment, disappointment, and…hunger.
Damn. He still wanted to grope her.
She made some movement with her head, something between a nod and a shake. ‘Uh, it’s fine. Really…fine.’ Her voice was raspy, gliding along his senses, making him hard all over again. ‘I should go to bed,’ she whispered into the darkness.
Bed. His bed. Please. The thought conjured up images in his brain: her sprawled in his sheets, her sprawled over him. She stepped away from the wall, and he clenched his fists, pushing them into his trouser pockets in an effort to resist the temptation to reach out and touch her.
Fine – grope her.
‘Uh, sure. Goodnight.’
He stared along the dark hallway long after she disappeared. Christ, what the hell was he going to do?
CHAPTER
11
Darcy walked in from the verandah, dangling her empty mug in a loose grip. Dominic hadn’t appeared this morning. She should be relieved. It would be…awkward, after last night. Just thinking of that kiss made her nipples peak under her white singlet, and she crossed her arms.
He was a fantastic kisser. No doubt about it. He’d had her forgetting all her problems, all her inhibitions, with one kiss.
Her cheeks flamed as she stalked over to the kettle. Yeah, Mr Kissy-Lips St James. Should she be embarrassed? Probably. She felt guilt more than anything else. Okay, well maybe she felt horny, too, but the primary emotion was definitely guilt. She was lying to the man, was in his home under false pretences, and was ready to do some horizontal wrestling – under the same roof as his children, for heaven’s sake! Had she no shame? No conscience? No— Damn, where the hell did he learn to kiss like that, anyway?
She frowned and shook her head. Focus. Dominic St James was out of bounds, for so many reasons, not least of which was that if he found out the truth, he’d probably prosecute her himself. She refilled the kettle and switched it on, leaning a hip against the counter. Could you prosecute someone for using a fake name?
‘Oh, good morning, Darcy,’ Gertrude said as she walked into the room.
‘Morning, Gertrude. I’m making a cuppa. Want one?’
Gertrude nodded. ‘I’d love one, thanks. How is your shoulder?’
Darcy smiled. ‘Good, thanks. I think we’re going to start using resistance bands today.’ Nearly four weeks since the accident, and she was beginning to see some improvement in her shoulder. It still hurt when she moved it suddenly, and ached if she tried to use it too much, but she was hoping to dispense with the sling today, with Alannah’s approval.
Gertrude brightened. ‘That’s great. Well, I guess I’d better hurry with breakfast for you and the kids, huh? So that you’re finished by the time Alannah gets here.’
‘What about Dominic?’ Darcy asked, trying to sound oh-so-casual.
Gertrude opened the pantry and stretched for the cereal boxes. Darcy had finally convinced the woman she didn’t need a cooked breakfast every morning. ‘Oh, he’s had to go to Sydney for work. Should be back in a couple of days.’
Darcy crossed over to the pantry and masked her disappointment by reaching up and grabbing a box for the vertically challenged housekeeper, who smiled her thanks. Darcy smiled back and started to open cupboards to retrieve bowls and cutlery. Heck, she hoped she hadn’t scared the man off from his home. If kissing her had sent him running…well, that would be embarrassing.
‘I’m going into town today, to do some shopping. Do you need anything?’ Gertrude asked as she set out the bowls for breakfast.
‘Actually, there is something,’ Darcy said, grateful that Gertrude had broached the subject. She’d noticed the re-growth of her hair, and had been trying to figure out how to fix it. The lighter roots would become obvious if she let it go much longer. ‘Would you mind getting me some hair dye?’ She waved idly at her hair. ‘I’m thinking of trying something new. Still brown,’ she said hurriedly, remembering her ID, ‘but maybe more of a mahogany or chestnut. What do you think?’
Gertrude eyed her for a moment, then nodded, smiling. ‘I think we can do something there. I can even help you apply it,’ she said, gesturing to the sling. Gertrude patted her arm. ‘Why don’t I get us some nail polish, too, and we can do a salon afternoon when the kids are having their nap? It will be fun.’
Darcy smiled, hiding her relief. ‘Sounds wonderful.’
‘Where is it?’ Dom asked without preamble as soon as he’d closed the door behind him.
Alex arched an eyebrow. Now he understood his sister’s position.
‘Hey, Dom. Good to see you. How are the kids?’
Dominic frowned, but his lips tilted. ‘As well as can be expected. Actually, they’re better than I expected, Julia especially.’
‘And Jonah?’ Alex asked as he opened a desk drawer. He wondered if Dom realised he said more when he didn’t say much at all.
Dominic grimaced. ‘He’s…struggling. Not knowing what’s happened with his mother is difficult for him. He’s got a lot of anger.’
Alex wasn’t surprised. The kid had nearly died in the car accident that had taken his mother, with little way of processing it. Yet. The kid was lucky, though. He had a father who knew exactly what he was going through, could empathise in a way nobody else could. And who had a secret weapon. ‘Maybe Gertrude can help him, like she helped you,’ he suggested.
‘Actually, Darcy seems to spend more time with him than anyone else,�
� Dominic admitted.
Alex leaned back in his chair. ‘Darcy, huh? How is she?’
Dominic propped his hip against Alex’s desk and folded his arms. ‘Fine.’
Alex waited. When no further response was forthcoming, he nodded. ‘Fine.’
‘Fine.’
Dominic looked down for a moment, then unfolded his arms to straighten his tie. Alex narrowed his eyes.
‘What did you do?’
Dominic frowned. ‘Nothing.’
‘Yeah, right. That’s why you can’t look me in the eye when you mention her name, and why you’re fussing with your clothes,’ Alex commented, and Dominic stopped pulling on his cuffs. Alex gaped. ‘Did you – did you sleep with her?’
‘No,’ his friend snapped, ‘I didn’t sleep with her.’
Again, Dominic said more when he didn’t say much.
‘But you want to.’
Dominic scoffed as he straightened from the desk. ‘No, I don’t. She’s a houseguest.’
Alex cocked an eyebrow. ‘I know you’ve had plenty of “houseguests” in the past. That status didn’t stop you from sleeping with them.’
‘It does when my kids are in the house, and if that particular guest risked her life to save them. I’ve never had a sleepover guest with the kids in the house.’
Alex frowned. ‘So…if the kids weren’t under the same roof, and if you’d met her any other way, would you sleep with her?’
‘In a heartbeat.’
Alex nodded. ‘I see.’
‘She’s gorgeous, she’s funny, and she’s really quite sexy.’
Alex blinked. ‘Sexy.’
Dominic frowned. ‘Sweet. I said sweet.’
‘No, I’m pretty sure you said sexy.’
‘I meant sweet.’
Alex tried not to laugh. ‘So, she’s not sexy?’
Dominic glared at him. ‘Shut up. Where is it?’
Alex finally relented and pulled the plastic-covered document from his drawer. ‘Here.’
Dominic reached for it, quickly scanning the contents. A sheet of paper, covered in cut-out letters. He read the letter aloud. ‘You’re a cheapskate builder, and I’m going to tell everyone. You should know by now that I mean business. Pay up, or it will cost you.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Cheapskate? Seriously? I feel like I’ve been taunted in the schoolyard by a junior kid running for cover behind the toilet block. Still, with the pending development at White Bay, I don’t need any rumours of corruption or shoddy work.’ He turned the plastic cover over to view the back, but it was blank. ‘This looks like the others. Anything on the envelope?’
Alex retrieved another plastic envelope from his drawer. ‘Yeah. The handwriting is the same, and we’ll send it to the police for a forensic analysis.’
Dominic checked the postmark. ‘Roseville. Do we have anything else?’
Alex nodded. ‘We just might. Check this out.’ He swivelled his monitor so that Dominic could see the screen. ‘I’ve kept notes on all of the letters – the language, the paper stock, the colour of the pens, anything to try to narrow down who is sending them. I’ve also mapped the postmarks.’ He pulled up a map. ‘The red dots are the origins of the letters. Notice anything?’
‘It’s the North Shore line,’ Dominic breathed, staring at the screen.
Alex nodded. ‘Whoever is sending these letters is catching the train to the next station and posting from there.’
‘Okay, so we know the general vicinity,’ Dominic said slowly.
Alex smiled. ‘We might know more than that.’ He used the mouse to show Dominic as he talked. ‘First letter was sent from Turramurra, second from Gordon, third letter from Warrawee…’ He started clicking on the suburbs. ‘He’s radiating out. He picks one station, then doubles back a station, then goes in the first direction to the next station – but there’s one place, right in the middle, where he hasn’t posted a letter from.’ He highlighted the suburb.
‘Pymble.’
‘Exactly. I think that’s his home station.’
Dominic nodded. ‘Good. Anything else?’
‘Well, I’m about to take this letter down to the police – I’ve made copies. We’ve got his DNA from the other envelopes, we’ve also got fingerprints from previous envelopes…we’re stockpiling all this evidence for when we finally identify him – and we will. He’s leaving these clues, so I’m guessing he’s not as smart as he thinks he is. We’re getting close.’
‘But we still don’t know who he is, damn it. He killed Ava, Alex. He almost killed Julia and Jonah. I want this bastard found.’
‘We’ll find him, Dom. I won’t stop until we do,’ Alex promised. He meant it, too. While he hadn’t really liked Ava, he’d never wished her harm. And Jonah and Julia – well, they were too young, too sweet and innocent to have this trouble visiting them. His job was to protect Dominic St James and his family, his interests. He liked Dominic, and he really liked the kids. His friend was going through hell.
Dominic nodded. ‘Thanks.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I guess it’s time to go meet the coroner, huh?’
Alex grimaced. Ava’s body was yet to be found, and the police were referring the matter to the coroner. Which meant their investigation had stalled, and they were going to submit a report for a suspected death. As there was no body, the coroner’s report would be very basic, with limited information, but a call for a coronial inquest. He’d already discussed this with Dom, had tried to prepare him. Still, how the hell did you prepare yourself for something like this?
‘There is one thing you should be ready for,’ he began tentatively. He’d hoped to avoid this conversation, but with Ava’s body still unrecovered, it was bound to come up.
Dom looked at him warily. ‘What?’
‘Ava’s body hasn’t been found, but the cut brake lines make it look like the intent was murder.’
Dom nodded. ‘We’re all thinking the same thing.’
‘Well, you know the first person they suspect when a woman disappears or is murdered.’ As if losing her under these circumstances wasn’t bad enough.
Understanding dawned in Dom’s eyes, and he nodded grimly. ‘The ex-husband.’
‘Just – be prepared.’
Kowalski frowned at the mobile phone buzzing on the dashboard. Shein. Toey little bastard. He reached for the phone, keeping his eye on the side mirror, watching the quaint Federation-style cottage that sat in a line of quaint Federation-style cottages on a quiet tree-lined street as he answered.
‘What?’
‘Kowalski?’
Kowalski rolled his eyes. ‘Of course it’s me. This is my number, who did you expect?’
There was a brief silence on the end of the phone, and he heard Shein suck in a breath.
‘Sorry,’ the man bit out. ‘Where are you at with our problem?’
‘I’m working on it.’ He’d researched the St James property. It was secure. Very secure. He could spend a lot of time and money trying to breach the perimeter. Or he could try a different approach to get to the woman. He had to hand it to her, she was like a cat with nine lives. He didn’t know if it was blind luck or canny survival skills that had let her live this long. Either way, she was a challenge to kill. He liked that, could appreciate it. Easy kills were easy money, but he enjoyed his job when he had to get creative, think outside the box.
‘Things are getting tight,’ Shein said. ‘The court case is creeping up. I want this whole thing put to bed.’
Kowalski disconnected the call without bothering to respond. He was doing a job for the guy, sure, but he didn’t answer to him. No, he answered to Shein’s boss, only Shein had no idea others were involved. It was a sweet deal. The boss hired him to sort out Shein’s problems, and Shein hired him – double the money for the same job. But he didn’t think much of Shein at all. If there was one thing that deserved his contempt, it was desperation born of a screw-up, and Shein had screwed up with his secretary, plain and simple, and now he needed Kowalski to clean up his m
ess.
Down the street, a gate creaked open, and Kowalski watched, alternating between the side mirror and the rear-vision mirror as an older man wheeled a garbage bin out to the street. He wore a faded blue T-shirt with a red insignia on the chest, and faded jeans. He was too far away to make out the detail of the insignia. Despite the steel-coloured hair, the man looked fit and strong as he manoeuvred the bin to the curb. He turned and entered the neighbour’s yard to drag out that bin, too. A good neighbour. You had to be careful with them. Others always watched out for them, they built a community that noticed things.
The older man turned and surveyed the street, and Kowalski remained still. He was sitting low in his seat, and he knew the old man wouldn’t see him through the darkened windows of the van. After a moment the man turned and re-entered the house.
Kowalski waited, and was rewarded when the old man left the house and strode over to the small blue two-door Ford sitting in the drive. He hunkered even lower in his seat as the car reversed from the driveway and drove past him, its driver pulling his seatbelt over his shoulder.
Kowalski tugged on his dark gloves, his gaze still on the disappearing car. If there was any way to get to the secretary, it was through that man. Kowalski slipped a cap on low over his brow and got out of the van. He walked around and opened the rear doors, leaning in to grab a tool box. He closed the doors and strode over to the property, keeping his gaze fixed ahead as he opened the gate and walked down the side passage of that quaint little Federation-style cottage. He ignored the cat that skulked across the path as it headed towards the neighbour’s fence. He didn’t care if the neighbours glanced out of their windows. They wouldn’t see him. They’d see a gas company employee walking in to fix a leak.
CHAPTER
12
Darcy padded into the kitchen on bare feet, and smiled at Gertrude, who was stirring the contents of a bowl. The TV was on, the volume low, providing a hushed background noise that was almost comforting. The high-pitched drone of cicadas could still be heard, flowing through the screen doors that led out onto the verandah. The skies were darkening outside, and Darcy marvelled at the quick transition from day, to dusk, to dark, high in the hills, despite daylight savings.
Runaway Lies Page 11