Not For Sale

by Rebecca Williams

  Leaving her breasts, he detached the shower head. Holding the delicate folds of her sex open to its stream, he ensured that no part of her was left unserviced. Her thighs quivered and spread for him while shot after shot of electric heat coursed through her. Only when her voice rang ceaselessly off the tiles did he enter her. And it wasn't with his penis. It was with his fingers. He watched from where he knelt. He rubbed his thumb over her clit faster and faster, his fingers inside her, swirling and stretching. She arched and strained while orgasm tore through her until there was nothing left. Nothing but an aftermath of shimmers in the shower.

  Being dried by Cain was an exploration in texture. He gently eased her back from the quivers still racing across her skin.

  "What are these appointments anyway?” He took advantage while she was still recovering.

  "My, God, you are nosy, aren't you?” Her accent was evident in her tetchy response. The inflection was always a giveaway to when she was cranky.

  "Just curious. Where are you going today?"

  Olivia slumped her shoulders, exhaling angrily. Who did he think he was that she should account to him for her every move? He wasn't her keeper. He was a lover. A cute, clever, funny, understanding lover, but a lover just the same. One day she'd explain to him about how emotional attachments never worked for her ... but not today. Today was the wrong time completely. She had to hurry if she was going to make her lecture. The rotten tutor had still failed to ring, making attendance at lectures vital. Hopefully, whatever she had missed that was making this subject so difficult for her would be revisited in pre-exam lectures. Even as she hurried into her clothes, glaring at him all the while, he waited for an answer.

  "I have an appointment with my gynaecologist, okay?” Accompanying the outburst with a hand gesture typical of an exasperated French woman was a stroke of genius. Suddenly, Cain looked more like a deer in the headlights than a possessive lover.

  "Oh."

  She left him with a quick peck on the cheek and a pat on the head, while he sat trying to avoid any kind of conversation about her gynaecological issues. Biting her lip in an effort not to laugh out loud, she couldn't help but giggle ... all the way to her tram stop.

  * * * *

  Cain, on the other hand, needed to sit and have a good long think. He hadn't been merely curious this morning, he'd been inviting Olivia to share his life with him. Now he was filthy with the knowledge that she was still hiding from him. Still wouldn't let him into her life. Still refused to admit he had a right to know her. Still insisted they were just lovers. If she had a gynaecologist appointment this morning he'd eat his socks. She was avoiding him and she thought “secret women's business” would shut him up.

  Little did she know!

  A man with four sisters was never afraid of a gynaecologist. That was a perfect example in itself—she was so busy avoiding a relationship she didn't know the first thing about him. And she lied about herself!

  Jesus, it had taken an almost car accident for her to let him into her history, and then she'd felt the need to wrestle control of their relationship back into bed. An argument on the topic of disclosure obviously wasn't going to bring her over to his side. He could tell just by the angry cat-green glare she'd shot at him when he'd persisted in asking about her plans. If looks could kill, he'd have been a rotting corpse on the floor by now. He knew why she was fighting. They fit together so well it was scary. Another time, another woman, and he'd have been frightened out of his mind, too. But Olivia was something else. She lured him in when his bachelor's brain warned him away. Snuggled against him in bed, she felt like she belonged with him. She was the first woman to make him want more than a quick tumble and a fast exit.

  Walking to Olivia's answering machine, he replayed her message from Charlotte. He noted the number automatically displayed, and rang the woman back.

  "Hello, Charlotte? It's Cain Warner here. I think we need to have a chat..."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  They met outside the back gates to Monash University. Cain had no idea why Charlotte had chosen this of all places and, frankly, he didn't really care. What he wanted was Olivia. The only person he could imagine who might know more about her than he did was Charlotte.

  The petite blonde with almost violet irises sent him a sidelong glance, as if measuring him against some unknown ruler. Seated beneath a giant sycamore the little blonde seemed almost elfin by nature. Her slightly pointed chin, unusual eyes and hair that seemed to reflect the dim light filtered by the tree gave Cain the distinct impression that she belonged in another world.

  "You want to know Olivia? If she's told you about her family, you know her already. Everything she does is affected by them. She wants to make them proud, prove she is worthy of living when they all died. She isn't such a hard puzzle, really.” The little woman smiled kindly, wearing the same expression she might when talking to a particularly dim child.

  "She studies to be worthy?"

  At this, Charlotte shrugged, her head tilting sideways. “In part. The rest is because she loves the chase. When her degree is finished, it will seem like nothing. ‘Too easy!’ she'll say. Then she will look for another dream to chase, another impossible task to conquer. Perhaps that's why you are so important, my friend."

  "She doesn't have to chase me, I'm already here.” The blunt truth in his statement brought a flush to his cheeks. He wasn't used to discussing his emotions, much less his love life, with anyone. Discussing them with the slightly mystical, very perceptive, Charlotte was unnerving to say the least. He was already revealing more truths than he'd intended.

  "There you are!” Charlotte slapped one hand into the other, vehemently confirming his ability for stating the obvious. “You are hers ... if she can find it in her heart to let you in. You could be the one to restore her faith. What a risk to take, eh? Are you the impossible task, Cain, the risk too big for even Olivia to dare? If she wins you, her past will seem to disappear, her present and future will be more important. If she loses you ... well, if she loses you, she was right all along ... the universe doesn't let her keep the people she cares for.” Charlotte shrugged, as though her final statement was of little importance.

  "What would you suggest I do?” He was more than willing to bow to Charlotte's superior knowledge at this point.

  "Think very carefully before you make her choose."

  For a full minute they sat in silence, Cain letting the new perspective settle in his head before deciding what to do.

  Charlotte closed her eyes, breathing deeply through her nose, as though meditating hard upon her next words. Her voice was quiet and seemed to come from far away when she spoke next. “It always surprises me, Cain, the way humans instinctively choose in their partners the traits they most lack in themselves. Olivia keeps busy so she doesn't have time for reflection. She indulges in shallow men and relationships because she is afraid of drowning in those who are too deep. You frighten her because you are both deep and still. You will slow down her flight through life and make her contemplate her decisions. You offer certainty and support where before she has had to provide those things for herself. I believe you could well be the face of Olivia's greatest hope and most terrifying fears all at once. But if you can convince her that she is safe with you, I believe my old friend Olivia will return. Nothing would make me happier."

  The eerie woman exhaled, lowering her shoulders as she opened her weirdly-coloured eyes. Smiling at him, she snapped almost instantly back into her businesslike persona. She looked at her watch and groaned.

  "I must go, Cain, I have a meeting in half an hour. Twenty minutes from now Olivia will be in that room.” She indicated the window of Olivia's classroom. “The rest is up to you."

  "Charlotte, I can't thank you enough."

  "Make her happy,” she called over her shoulder while she waved goodbye.

  Cain watched her go. Interesting, very interesting. Knowing her business and how busy she kept Olivia, having heard her voice on the phone he'd
assumed Charlotte was a first-class bitch. Having met her, he was almost certain he'd been wrong. What was it with women and their ability to wear a thousand faces? He'd never understand.

  * * * *

  Paying attention to a lecture Olivia should have been intent on was difficult enough when already confused by the subject matter. It became virtually impossible when trying to figure out how to explain her emotionally crippled status to a blue eyed, well-built, completely self-assured gold mining exec with a distinct “knight in shining armour” complex. Cain, I don't get close to people because I really think I may lie down, dry up and blow away in the wind if one more person I care for leaves me. Cain, I don't like it when people leave so I don't invite them to join me. No, it was all ridiculous. She was too old to be blaming her solitude on the scars of her childhood. He would never understand. How could she ask him to?

  Frowning at her thoughts, at him, at time constraints, Olivia took off on her bi-weekly cross-campus run. Unlike some inept, obviously uncaring tutors she could name, she liked to get to her class before her students. Stuffing her hand through the top of her knapsack while she ran, she felt around for the folder of assignments she needed to return today. She'd crammed the grading of the papers into her tram travel time. Multi-tasking had a lot to answer for. She was definitely going to have to cut down on the number of appointments Charlotte made for her. Or knock them out all together. Not that she'd ever tell Cain about such a decision. After all, it was none of his business, was it?

  Speeding into the room in which she taught—known in university-speak as a tute-room—she found most of her students already present. A nervous excitement permeated the atmosphere. Obviously, they'd gotten used to her prompt return of their assignments. Greeting them, she began handing out the much anticipated results immediately. The door to the room banged open. She raised her eyes, expecting the usual latecomers with their excuses.

  Instead, Cain's eyes met her own. “Oh, sorry, I'm looking for the Oprah set. Geez, nice big room for a gynaecologist's office."

  The whole class sniggered in concert. The whole class did not stop her temper from flaring to inferno levels. Olivia raged speechlessly at him for forcing his way into her life when she was so obviously trying to keep him out. Her temper at the sheer arrogance of the man burned and roiled biliously in her stomach. Combined with her fury at Charlotte—oh, yes, it was Charlotte all right—for giving him her whereabouts, unadulterated wrath had Olivia grinding down on the urge to hit somebody until her molars hurt.

  With the class in the room, she couldn't kick him out without creating an embarrassing scene. Even if she could evict him without a scene, she certainly couldn't do it without losing her cool. With that thought in mind, Olivia watched him settle his big body into a chair. His dark hair gleamed in the light from the window and despite his new casual attire, he looked nothing at all like a student. He looked like a threat.

  Throughout the entire tute session, she simmered. She could feel him watching her intently. As soon as they were out of public view, she'd give him an eyeful. An eyeful of her fists, that is! Every time he cheekily raised his hand to answer a question, she let her gaze meet his just long enough to communicate her fury before moving on to let someone else respond. Even her joints felt stiff with the effort of restraining her foul temper. Disgusting, viperous words in all her languages flooded through her head while she spoke politely to her students. Until finally, their time was up. Thank God.

  When the last student straggled from the room, she snatched up her bag, flung herself away from Cain, and strode to the door. If she had to talk to him now, she'd kill him. Best to kill him in private, not out here in plain view of hundreds of spectators.

  "Don't speak to me.” Her hand snapped up, cutting him off before he could even start his banter. Cain followed her into the hall and was trailing behind her when she stormed onto the sidewalk. Apparently, he was waiting for his chance to speak. He could just keep waiting!

  * * * *

  The hand stayed up as she flipped open her mobile phone choosing a name from her auto dial list. If she weren't virtually running, she'd be tapping her foot—of that Cain was certain. Anger poured off her in waves. Quite clearly the number she'd selected was Charlotte's because an irate volley of French flew into the mouthpiece of the poor, defenceless phone.

  "Comment pourriez-vous donner mon emplacement a un client?" Her hands waved and pointed angrily in the air.

  Cain caught the word “client.” It clanged loudly, ominously inside his skull, threatening to shut down any rational thought processes. Removing the mobile phone forcibly from Olivia's hands, he snapped the cover shut and shoved it into his jacket pocket. “Two things. First, no matter how hard you flap them around, Charlotte can't see your hands over the phone. Second, I am not a client.” The last words came out a snarl, but at least he wasn't bellowing. Yet.

  Olivia slapped the palms of her hands against his chest, catching him off guard and sending him backward a step and a half. He'd have to keep an eye on her. He'd seen what she did to Filthy Phil and she looked just about as angry now as she had then ... maybe even angrier.

  "Did I say you could speak yet?” she demanded.

  He actually felt his mouth open to protest against her current dictatorial stance, only to shut it again when her glinting green eyes narrowed on him, daring him to say just one more word. A less public place, or a less angry Olivia, and he might have taken the dare. Not now. He kept his lips zipped, opting to let the flood tide pass before he tried wading into the current.

  "As far as Charlotte is concerned you are only a client. As far as I am concerned...” An angry growl left her lips while she raised both eyes and hands, raging at the Heavens in her exasperation. “You do realise that there is a very, very fine line between curiosity and stalking, don't you? I think you crossed it. I know you crossed it. How dare you try forcing your way into my life?"

  Her hands were still gesticulating madly, the slight forward tilt in her upper body reminding him of a boxer encouraging his foe closer ... except it was difficult to get any closer when she kept running away!

  Damn!

  While he'd been distracted by how utterly beautiful she was when angry, she'd resumed her flight down the street. Even enraged, she drew admiring glances from onlookers. Even as he tagged along on her roller coaster ride, he could hear her muttering.

  "You know what?” Olivia stopped mid-step, and spun on him so that he almost bowled her over. “You are not even a client to me."

  Cain drew a line in the sand right there.

  Snatching her back as she tried for another furious march down the street, he dragged her against him, right in front of all the onlookers. “You're completely correct in that statement. I am not nor have I ever been anything even remotely like a client. I force my way into your life because I can't find any other way to get in! Because I don't have to force my way into your body. You took offence the first time I insinuated you were a hooker, yet now you're happy to let me into your bed but not into your head. Jesus Christ, Olivia, I can't even get into your date book. What am I supposed to think, how am I meant to get your attention?"

  * * * *

  Olivia felt all the fight run right out of her, as if it left through the soles of her feet. If she looked, it would probably be a purple puddle on the pavement. Cain was right. She'd promised herself only one night. For the memories. Now she had confused herself and hurt a man who was, if nothing else, audacious. Regretful tears poured down her cheeks. Really, how stupid to cry over something that should make her so happy. A perfectly lovely man wanting to get to know her and she was crying on him in the middle of Dandenong Road. Utterly ridiculous. An explanation was in order, right now.

  "I keep to myself, Cain, because I'm...” there was no point in anyone with French heritage trying to keep their hands still, “messy.” She found his lightning fast change from furious scorn to chuckling agreement, encouraging.

  "We can stick to sex in the
shower if you wish."

  Olivia smiled through blurred vision. The crowd of spectators they'd attracted disappeared in a rush of remorse and affection for him. “If you and I were to get involved..."

  "Correction, we are involved. Not only do you sleep with me regularly, although not for nearly long enough, you let me into your home and told me about your family. I'll bet you haven't let anyone know about them in more than a decade."

  She gulped in the face of his know-it-all attitude. Obviously, he had been colluding with Charlotte. Still, he couldn't understand unless Olivia explained for him. “My last proper boyfriend left me because I cling. When I get involved with people, I hold on to them too tightly.” She clenched her fists and eyes, illustrating for him how hard she tried to keep loved ones with her. “I don't trust them to stay or ... or ... God, to let them.” Stupid, stupid, stupid tears. “I don't want to suffocate you. If we get involved ... further involved, I won't know how not to.” There, she'd done it. Tried to explain and possibly messed up everything. He was lovely. Calm, thoughtful and completely unafraid of her, he made her feel ... whole. For that reason alone, he deserved fair warning. He was worthy of more than the half-life she'd created for herself. More than the half-woman she'd become. Now she had done the right thing by explaining how badly she coped in relationships.

  If he stayed after that, she would take everything she could get.

  * * * *

  If Cain could have found the spineless bastard who'd said such ruinous things to Olivia, he'd have pounded the snivelling fool right into the pavement. Further probably. Of course she held tight to those for whom she cared. She didn't want them taken away. That would be part of her reason for working at Charlotte's, too. She was doing favours to keep her one true friend by her side. Olivia didn't trust the universe would let people stay with her, so she took matters into her own hands. What kind of insensitive prat wouldn't understand that?