by Allie Little
“Nothing as yet. But now that you’re both here, I have something important to discuss with you. Either one or both of you must report what happened today to the police. I’m not resting until this happens.” Riley looks over at me, the concern evident on his face. “Grace is stubbornly refusing, which I think is absurd. I mean, this is what the police do. They stop maniacs like Daniel from harassing people.”
Gemma nods emphatically, sipping on her wine. “You’re exactly right, Riley. Douchebag needs to be stopped.”
Riley’s brow knits together. “Douchebag?”
“Yeah, Douchebag Dan. Grace’s husband.”
Riley pushes up from the sofa and begins pacing the room, back and forth in front of the crackling fire. “You say that so flippantly, Gemma. But if this guy is capable of stalking Grace from the rear lane of my restaurant, writing creepy little notes, then breaking into and ransacking your apartment, who knows what else he’s capable of? I don’t like it.” He stops suddenly, resting one hand on his hip, raking the other through his hair. He looks right at me. “But what I want to know is why? Why, Grace? I understand you left him in the middle of the night because it was the only way. But why was it the only way, Grace? I still don’t understand. There’s more to this story than you’ve told me, am I right?”
Gemma looks over, clearly interested in my answer.
Amongst the deathlike silence, two pairs of eyes rest solely on my face.
I breathe in, bracing myself. It’s an awful truth, and to talk about it makes it real. The things I’d endured given form and substance. The hurt and the fear, all rolled into one. If I gave it energy, it would chafe at my soul until I broke. Because that’s what he did to me. Broke me.
I let out a defeated sigh. “Because he has a dark side, Riley. An erratic, shocking temper. He switches from vaguely irritated to wild eruptions of rage in three seconds flat. You can’t look in the wrong direction, say the wrong thing, be too imprecise, or too dreamy, or indefinably vague. Too silly, or sweet, or just plain annoying. You can’t be any of those things. You can’t just be yourself.”
“Stop right there, Grace,” Riley commands. “What are you saying? That this is you?”
I nod, tears welling at the vehemence of my words, the intensity catching me off guard.
“Let me tell you right now,” Riley says, moving to sit next to me, running an arm around my shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You are never too silly, or annoying. You could never be annoying. And too sweet? How can that be a bad thing? It can’t, Grace.”
I exhale, feeling vulnerable, like I’ve said too much and let them in. He’s breaking my walls down, brick by solid brick, and I’m letting him in as he tears them down. And it’s happening so fast that I have no control. And I need to maintain it – my control. Because without that …
I’m back where I was with Dan.
Gem switches on the AV channel and pops Tomb Raider on, a funny choice given her love for romantic comedy chick flicks.
“Um … what is that?” I ask, cheering up immediately with the distraction. “You don’t like movies like this, Gem.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Grace. She’s a powerful, in-control archaeologist with some kick-ass moves. I thought you needed a role model right about now.”
Riley grins, settling into the sofa next to me. “Good choice, Gem.”
“Of course you’d say that. Any man would.”
He looks down and kisses me on the forehead. “Perhaps you just need reminding of your inner Angelina Jolie.”
“Yeah, right. You wish, buddy.”
“I don’t need to wish, because my wish is coming true,” he whispers in my ear.
12
Grace
A full two hours later the movie finishes. Gemma piked a short while into it and Angelina was no disappointment in her kick-ass role. Riley pulls me to my feet, running his arms gently around my waist.
“Shall I show you to your room?” He leans down and kisses me tenderly.
“I’d love to see my room.”
“This way.” He releases me, grabbing for my bag at the base of the staircase. “I saved the best room for you.”
He guides me upstairs into a room where a gas log fire flickers by floor to ceiling windows overlooking the softly glittering bay.
“You like?”
“Wow, this is stunning,” I say, gazing over the water.
“And all yours, for as long as you choose to stay.” He discreetly places my bag by the bed as I continue to take in the view.
The king size bed and plush lounge chairs situated by the fire hardly take up any space at all in the large, comfy room. “Is this your room? Surely a room of this magnitude couldn’t be the spare?”
“No, of course not. My room is across the hall.” He gestures to the right with his thumb. Coming closer, he reaches for my hand and holds it, kissing me firmly on the lips. “I’ll see you in the morning. Sleep in.”
I raise myself to my toes to reach his lips. I kiss him and he takes it further, deepens it while holding me close, his mouth just for a moment ravaging mine.
He draws back, a warm hand resting on my hip. “If you need a shower, the ensuite is in there. Towels are in the cupboard.” He pauses with a devilish glint in his eye. “And I’m available if you’d like company.”
“Very funny, Riley. But thank you, a hot shower would be wonderful. Alone, if you don’t mind.”
He sweeps me off my feet and carries me to the bed, plonks me down with a bounce and kisses me. “Have a long one. I’m certainly going to.”
I shake my head at him, smirking. “You’re incorrigible. I’ll see you in the morning. And thanks, Riley. For everything.”
Backing from the room he gives a single, earnest nod, disappearing into the hallway, the sound of his bedroom door closing leaving me in silence.
I grab a towel from the cupboard and turn on the shower.
I might just have to heed his advice.
***
The next morning I wake, light filtering softly over the bed. Glittery and fractured, dancing across the pale taupe walls. I rub my eyes, sitting up to absorb the view of the stunning aquamarine bay. A scrumptious whiff of breakfast wafts by and I realise how ravenous I am.
Pushing out from underneath the covers, I drag on a pair of jeans and a soft, slouchy sweater. I glance over my reflection in the mirror, running both hands through my hair before making my way toward the beckoning food.
Downstairs, Riley is demonstrating his culinary skills. Scrambled eggs with bacon, wilted spinach and butter mushrooms, roasted baby tomatoes. Waffles too, my all-time favourite treat.
He smiles when he spots me. “Morning sleepy-head. You slept in. How are you feeling this morning?”
“Very well rested. I slept so soundly in that supremely comfortable bed. What time is it?”
“Almost eleven. I thought I’d cook us brunch. You must be starving.”
Inhaling the delicious aromas filling the room, grumbles emanate loudly from my stomach. “It all smells wonderful. I am starving, actually.”
“Good to hear. It won’t be long before we can eat.”
“Is Gemma still asleep?”
A devious smile floods his face. “She left around a half-hour ago for Jack and Sam’s place. She’s gone for lunch and dinner, and plans to stay the night. Which leaves us …”
“Alone?” I query, overwhelmed with light, fluttery nerves. This ridiculous situation has me cooped up in Riley’s penthouse, falling for a man I swore I never would. But knowing Riley would do all this for me, means the world. This man standing right here, cooking up a culinary storm, inherently knows exactly what I need.
“Completely alone,” he whispers, his breath tickling the skin of my neck. He envelops me in his arms and leans down, caressing his lips over mine.
“Riley?” I break the kiss.
“Mm-hmm?” he murmurs, reaching again for my face.
“The eggs are burning.”
&
nbsp; “Shit,” he says, whipping around and grabbing the egg-flip. “Just saved them,” he chuckles, folding them over. “You’re a terrible distraction. I took an extra-long run this morning, just for you.”
“Just for me?”
“Yes,” he says. “I realise you’re not ready for what I want, so I’m taking this slow. And slow is new for me.”
“I appreciate that.” I squeeze in front of the stovetop, running my arms around his waist. “More than you know.”
He leans down and kisses me, the egg-flip in one hand. “Whoa, hop out of the way. You’ll get burnt next.” Turning his back to the spitting bacon, he swivels me away. “We’ll finish this later,” he murmurs between kisses.
“Yes, food first. Priorities, right?”
“Certainly. My guest needs food.”
Breakfast passes with hand holding and niggling footsies under the breakfast bar, but all the while, despite the incredibly appealing distraction opposite, Dan is filling my thoughts. I find myself wondering where he is, and how he is. The Dan I knew would never in a thousand years, ever, have broken into an apartment and ransacked it. Would never have lain in wait in the alley behind Swimmer, grabbing Mia so roughly to bruise her arm. It all seemed so strange. The Dan I knew had vanished forever. Changed. Morphed into a man I’d never previously known, and would never wish to know now.
“Are you okay? You seem a little distracted.”
His face is full of concern. Shrugging, I shake my head, overwhelmed by the unfortunate turn of events over the last couple of days. “I’d like all of this to go away. Perhaps the way I left Daniel wasn’t the best, and maybe if I’d done it properly - something I was too afraid to do - I wouldn’t be in this horrible mess now.”
“People are complicated, Grace. Often they react in unexpected ways. We all deal with loss so differently. He’s dealing with an enormous loss, Grace, because he’s lost you. But you can’t blame yourself for the way he’s behaving. It’s not rational. And it’s certainly not normal. You must realise that. And then you have to go to the police.”
“You’re not going to let up on that, are you?” I give him an understanding smile. “I don’t see how it would help, Riley. It would only make things worse in my opinion. Perhaps if I just saw him, spoke to him. Maybe that would help.”
“Absolutely not,” Riley insists, scraping the bar stool back with a rumble. He places both hands on the countertop, staring me straight in the eyes. “I need an assurance from you. I don’t want you anywhere near that man. The guy’s unhinged.”
“Okay, okay,” I protest, surprised at his tenacity. “I just thought if I could talk to him, give him the answers he so obviously needs, maybe he’d leave me alone.”
“Talking won’t get you anywhere. Not with someone like him.”
“Gran said he needs closure. Maybe that’s all it is, and once he has answers, he’ll move on with his life. Which I really hope he’ll do.”
Riley sits down and frowns, pushing a pile of scrambled eggs around on his plate. “He’s not exactly moving on at the moment, is he? He’s fixated on you. It’s completely unhealthy, and he’s unpredictable, that’s the worst part. We can’t predict his next move.”
“I doubt he’ll find me secreted away up here. I’m no longer at work. No longer at the apartment. But he’s smart, Riley.”
“What does he do for a living?”
“He’s a property developer who also deals in high-end art. He mixes it up though. Buys and develops land, houses, whatever he can get his hands on. He buys up big name art at the auction houses, then decorates the interiors and on-sells the properties with the artworks included. Makes mammoth profits. Money is absolutely no issue for Daniel. He’s extremely wealthy.”
“Family money?”
“Yes, lots of it. His parents separated in the last couple of years though, and his mother is taking his father through the courts for his money. But yes, Dan is financially secure. His father bankrolled his initial property purchases, but he’s made more than enough now to take on big end property deals alone.”
“Interesting,” remarks Riley, thoughtfully rifling a hand through his hair. “I wonder if I’ve heard of them. My father is not exactly impoverished.”
“But hey, let’s not focus on all that.” I grab his hand, desiring to change the subject. Focusing on Daniel wasn’t how I wanted to spend my day. “Are you going to show me the sights today? All that aquamarine water and endless white sand?”
He holds my hand, smoothing the skin with his thumb, nodding leisurely. “Yes, I have actually planned something very special for later. It’s a surprise, though,” he says mysteriously.
“Ooh, I love surprises. What is it?”
“Come on, Grace. If I told you, it wouldn’t be a surprise, now would it? You’ll just have to wait and see.”
13
Riley
“Riley, we’ve lazed in the sun on your beautiful beach. Seen the fabulous facilities at this resort you call home. We’ve even devoured Devonshire tea at the local bakehouse, even though you don’t particularly strike me as the Devonshire tea-drinking type. What on earth do you have in store for later?”
She encircles my waist with her arms, nuzzling up close. “I told you before, it’s a surprise. And no way will you get it out of me, so you may as well give up now. No clues.”
She giggles against my sweater, wriggling back to look me in the eyes. “And I thought I was using my best persuasive techniques. They’re really not working?”
“You can be as persuasive as you like, Grace. But I am not budging.”
“I can’t believe you’ve kept me guessing all day. You’re good.”
“I know I’m good. In more ways than one, if you’d allow me to demonstrate.” I glance down and give her a spirited wink.
She pushes me off playfully. “Maybe one day. If you’re lucky.”
“Oh, I’m lucky, Grace. Lady Luck has always been on my side. You just wait and see.”
Sunlight hits the contours of her face in a warm burst of yellow as she grins. “I think perhaps Lady Luck is shining right now. After all,” she says, serious all of a sudden, “she sent me you.”
She steals me with those eyes, so pastel blue my heart burns. I skim my lips across hers. Whatever it takes, I won’t let her down. And knowing he’s been watching her? Anger shoots into me like I’ve not felt before.
Gathering her in, even her scent is innocent. Naïve somehow; almost child-like. But there’s strength within her innocence. Her walls are crumbling though, falling to pieces, and the purest soul is shining through the cracks.
“You’ll need warm clothes. Did you bring a jacket?”
She nods. “So, we’ll be outside? Come on Riley, you know you want to tell me.” She digs an index finger into the space between my ribs.
“Nope, not telling. You’ll see soon enough.”
“I hate you.”
“No, you don’t.”
An hour later I pile her along with a huge backpack of goodies into the car. Shoving the gearstick into first, I pull out onto Shoal Bay Rd, following it to Zenith Beach.
“What are we doing here, Riley?” Grace looks at me quizzically, pushing her way out of the car while I grab the backpack from the boot. “Are we hiking?”
“Not really hiking. We are taking a little stroll though.”
“Your suggestion of trainers and a warm jacket makes perfect sense now. Where are we going?”
“To the top,” I say casually, gesturing to the topmost peak of Tomaree.
“Up there?” Her smile fades. “Really? This is your surprise?”
“You’re not a nature-lover?” A flicker of amusement cuts across my face.
“I love nature as much as the next person, but perhaps we should have set off earlier. It’s an hour from sunset, and it’s getting a little cold.”
“You’ll have me to keep you warm, and we can kill off a bottle of red at the top. Alcohol always encourages the heat.”
&
nbsp; Grace rolls her eyes. Her small, contrived smile grows into a natural one, and she settles a hand on one hip in defiance as she gazes up the mountain.
“You’re going to love it,” I say, grabbing her hand and leading her toward the track.
The Summit walk is only a kilometre to the top, a moderate gradient with unparalleled views of Port Stephens and its stunning, weaving coastline. Islands are dotted through the shimmering expanse of ocean, glittering in the late afternoon light. She appreciates the beauty of it, gasping every now and again as the fading light changes the colour on the surface of the sea.
A short while later we reach the summit, the blush of red-hot sunset boiling over the sky. Shoal Bay curves in a broken circle, and Cabbage Tree and Boondelbah Islands interrupt the sea in volcanic tufts of green.
She walks to the edge, staring over the ocean as if expecting to see further than the distant line of the horizon. Stands there a while, her arms crossed protectively over her chest. By the time she returns, I’ve shaken out the picnic rug and set the food and wine in the centre, and am busily lighting a fire in the barbecue area.
“It’s truly beautiful up here, Riley. Simply stunning.”
“That it is,” I say, chuffed with the surprise. I give the fire a little prod to set it well and truly alight.
“But there’s one thing I don’t get. Something that just doesn’t gel.”
I furrow my brow. “What’s that, Grace?”
“You.” She focuses her eyes on mine. “Picnics, romantic strolls and the very placid life you lead up here. What happened to the fancy restaurant-owner? You seem to have two very distinct sides.”
“Appearances can be deceiving.” I pour her a red, handing the glass over. “There’s something about you too, Grace. You’re calm, even in a crisis, seem to take everything in your stride. Even this situation with Dan. It certainly can’t be easy for you.”
She sighs loudly, peering into the fading sky. “It’s not easy, Riley. But it’s easier with you.”