Beneath the Skin

by Melissa James

  The uncertainty faded. ‘Oh.’ Her face softened. ‘Well, we both know I can’t give you any comparisons; but if you’re a bad lover, Claudius, heaven help me if I ever meet a magnificent one. It might kill me.’

  He laughed and kissed her, feeling as if he’d conquered the world. ‘How are you feeling?’

  She smiled down at him. ‘Smug. Happier than I’ve ever been. Wanting to repeat it as soon as possible.’

  He laughed again, nuzzling her neck. Then he gently put her aside and went to the corner, wetting a towel in the washbowl to clean the smear of blood from her thighs. ‘Are you sore at all?’

  She smiled at him in tender gratitude. ‘Was she in a bad way?’ she asked, surprising him again with her insight.

  His mouth quirked, but he felt no desire to smile. ‘She locked herself in the bathroom. She didn’t let me touch her for five days, and then only because she wanted to get pregnant. We only ever did it when it was peak time for conception—once a month, and by the end of the first year I hated touching her. She never enjoyed sex once in our whole married life … and neither did I.’

  Why that made Elly laugh, he didn’t know. ‘I hope you don’t expect a similar response from me. I’m a little bit uncomfortable, but I don’t have the slightest urge to scream, or hide from you. If that’s normal virginal behaviour, I’m glad I wasn’t the average virgin.’ Grabbing the towel from him, she threw it aside. ‘I waited fifteen years for tonight. So if you think this is the end, think again, buster. I want more.’

  He burst out laughing, but grimaced as she shushed him, her eyes alight with mischief. ‘I should have known. Why wouldn’t this be different to any other experience I’ve had? You’re not like any woman I’ve ever known.’

  Her hands caressed his chest, her lips moved from his throat to shoulder to stomach, warm and soft and full of life-affirming passion. ‘I want to make love to you this time. Show me, Adam. Teach me how to make you happy.’

  ‘You already have, more than you’ll ever know.’ He lifted her back up to him and kissed her. ‘You’ll never need lessons when it comes to making me happy, Elle. I think you were born knowing how to give me everything I want, everything I need. But you have something you can teach me.’

  He saw understanding in her eyes. ‘Guwi ngaya, yanada warriwul djanaba dali nguwing,’ she whispered in the rippling tongue of her grandmother’s people, the Eora.

  ‘What does that mean?’

  She gave him a mysterious smile, a sweet blend of child and woman, light and shadow, past and present. ‘You’ll just have to trust me on that.’

  She taught him the words filled with ancient beauty as she loved his body, touching and kissing him with a fervour that left him weak, sated, shaking—aroused again too fast, but it was never too soon for her. With Elly, he never had to ask, or hope, or dread. She was with him all the way.

  This was the wedding night they’d been cheated of years ago—by Jepson expectation; by his meeting Sharon—but more than anything else, he and Elly had been cheated by his blindness.

  He lit a lantern as darkness fell around them. Making sure that the light remained only inside the cabin by blocking the window with the black plastic he’d brought. He listened again for outside sounds, as he had the whole time.

  ‘I have another fantasy,’ he said lazily, to distract her from what he was doing. Protecting her and making her happy entwined in a double rope. His joy and responsibility in one.

  ‘Hmm?’ The sleepy look in her eyes, so sated and joyful, filled him with more happiness. ‘Another one? How many years have you been storing all these up?’

  He chuckled and, returning to the rug, played with her breasts. Their instant response to his touch fascinated him. ‘I’ve only had this one since our picnic.’

  ‘A sexual fantasy about a picnic?’ She blinked, looking doubtful. ‘What does it involve?’

  ‘We have all we need. Naked bodies, covered in sweat—’ he licked a trail of perspiration from the underside of her breast as he spoke ‘—and food.’ He grabbed the picnic hamper.

  Her eyes filled with laughing trepidation. ‘This fantasy of yours doesn’t involve whipped cream or warm chocolate, does it?’

  One brow lifted. ‘You always did have a better imagination than me. Now, my idea was just to eat before making love again, but if adventure is what you want …’ He held up a jar of honey, grinning. ‘The bush equivalent of body paint.’

  She backed off, looking shy, doubtful—and yet intrigued. ‘Um, Claudius? I’m not sure I’m that adventurous yet.’

  His fear of rejection a thing of the past, he poured a tiny drop on her belly. ‘Think about it. Getting sticky and messy, and all the cleaning up …’ He ran his tongue over the honey.

  Though she made the purring sound he was fast becoming addicted to, she shook her head. ‘No, let me.’ But she only smeared a drop on his nose, and softly kissed it off. Another smear on his lips, and then, with slow, brushing kisses, she shared the taste with him. Then her eyes darkened, and she leaned forward; his forehead met hers, and they just stood there, holding each other. Hands moving only in soft, tickling motions on each other’s backs.

  ‘Much better,’ he agreed unsteadily. ‘You always know what to do, Elle.’

  In the deep night, exhausted yet unable to sleep, Adam watched the beautiful mystery lying asleep in his arms. Elly had done nothing but give to him from the day they’d met—and tonight she’d given him the ultimate gift.

  Lying in her arms, tired and replete, he felt the stirring of change. A calm rebellion against the life he no longer wanted, a hatred of the burdens he’d long wanted to shuck. Maybe at last the pain from his unsatisfying marriage, and the guilt over Sharon’s and Zack’s deaths would no longer guide every decision he made for himself and Zoe.

  His gaze turned inward, to three years ago, as he said the words he should have said then.

  Goodbye, Sharon. I loved you, but I won’t do as you asked. You were wrong to try to hold me inside your world, when you knew I was unhappy. You were wrong about Elly. She’s the best thing to ever come into my life. I can’t doubt that any more. I won’t regret that I’ve broken my promise, when I would never have asked it of you.

  At last he’d found the key to the peace of mind and heart he’d craved so long. Just as Elly had done for him half a lifetime ago, she’d known how to find him, locked as he’d been in his self-imposed prison, and in years of perfect friendship, in trusting him with her life, in one night of loving, she’d handed him the key to escape.

  Elly loved him without borders, without reproach or guilt, regrets or shame; no lectures, restrictions or conditions. The weight chained to his heart snapped and fell to his feet. The only woman he wanted had shown him that he was more than man enough for her. His own personal miracle. In this tumbledown shack, hiding from a madman, he’d at last found the way to forgive himself for the past, because Elly had shown him how.

  He could only hope he could do the same for her—and that she’d stay long enough to let him. It would take a lifetime.

  Silver City Highway, north of Macks Lake

  A couple of local cops were the only impediment that ‘Father’ Danny met at the outskirts of Macks Lake, probably because he’d bypassed the main roadblock outside town.

  The forest trail marked on the map Granddad had sent him had indeed been unmanned. They probably didn’t even know about it—but Granddad had been preparing for Janie’s eventual flight here months before Danny had even thought of it.

  Naturally, Monster said, with some dryness. As if he’d tell us without our begging for it, or making a deal with us to get what he wants. We’ll show him.

  Yes, we will, Danny promised him. It’s almost time, my friend, fear not.

  I fear nothing, Danny. Haven’t you learned that yet?

  Except being hurt, Danny thought, but didn’t say. It would only make him angry, and they needed to have clarity now.

  A slim, dark-haired cop strode to the car
. ‘G’day, Father.’ He identified himself as a lapsed Catholic by his guilty inability to meet Danny’s eyes. ‘Coming for Mass?’

  Danny took the maximum risk, revelling in it. ‘You’d know if you came to church now and then, constable.’

  Sure enough, the cop flushed.

  ‘Why on earth are you out here? Why is there another roadblock after the last? Is it necessary? You poor things, it’s thirty-eight degrees.’

  A call came over the two-way radio in the police car. ‘Macks Lake Station to Unit 2, do you read me?’ The older man coming toward them turned back.

  The young man, little more than a boy, shifted from foot to foot. ‘Sorry, Father, we can’t give information.’

  No, Monster, put your hand away. We have to play it clever now. Danny sighed in relief when Monster dropped his hand from the knife in the centre console. ‘I can certainly understand that, constable. I can’t even repeat what’s told me in confidence under oath in court.’

  The boy muttered, ‘That’s in the confessional.’

  Glad he’d studied up on Catholic rites and beliefs, he said, ‘I consider anything you tell me sacred, constable.’ After twenty seconds of silence, he prodded. ‘You seem troubled about this matter. If I can help?’

  With a half-scared, half-thrilled look, and a guilty smile of anticipation, the boy leaned forward—and then he seemed to see the collar anew, and drew back. ‘I’m sorry, um, Father, I can’t speak.’

  The ‘um’ gave it all away—as did the hand behind his back. And Danny was glad he’d prepared for this moment in advance. Quietly, Monster. And he put the car in first gear. Ready.

  A weak thump came from the boot of the car. Danny blinked, surprised and rather grateful his captive was still alive. Brian—or was it Peter?—hadn’t done anything to hurt him, after all.

  In the meantime, Monster had taken the knife out of the console.

  The fat cop came running—

  But in a flash of sunlight, the knife went soft as butter into the boy’s gut. The boy doubled over, gasping, and fell to the ground. Monster took a second to admire his handiwork, the lovely, lovely blood, the joy and power of it, then, with a screech of tyres, Danny roared off, skidding across the road before straightening the car.

  He felt no fear. He’d bet the fat, wheezing cop hadn’t taken a shot at real people in his career. He’d go for the tyres, and would miss.

  Yep. Exactly, Monster said, checking in the rear-vision mirror. Happy, sated with the stabbing, while Danny felt that rare thing, an erection.

  Now we know exactly where Janie will come.

  Another map Granddad had sent last night showed him the way to the hospital.

  It’s time, Janie, he and Monster thought, in harmony at last.

  CHAPTER

  17

  Elly awoke to the early daylight song of birds and a cool place on the rug beside her where warmth and a loving arm had been. A kookaburra laughed nearby.

  She’d heard men lost interest once they’d had the woman they lusted after. Even though Adam had mentioned making their marriage legal, he’d spoken no words of love, given no promises for the future.

  It’s best if he doesn’t.

  Today was the barrier she hadn’t been able to pass in so long. She no longer knew how to plan for the future. So if today was all she had, she’d take it—and run.

  She found him just inside the perimeter. Barefoot and with mussed hair, clad only in jeans, he was using the station’s second satellite phone. A rush of pleasure flowed through her, watching him. She became caught in the play of his profile, the quirk of his lips, the intent seriousness of his eyes contrasted with the mussed dark hair, how his hand was shoved in his pocket, jingling coins as he concentrated. The stern cop had disappeared. He looked like a boy again; the boy she’d loved for so many years. He looked alive again. No traces of ‘Old Sobersides’ in his face. Adam, her Adam, was back.

  If there was such a thing as morning-after etiquette, she’d never learned it. All she could do was stare at him, aching to have him again despite a slight tenderness inside. This might be it for them, their last day.

  As if sensing her presence, he turned and smiled at her. A relaxed, happy smile: warm, intimate, welcoming, different from the sexually charged grimaces he’d sent her way the past few days. He gestured to her with his free hand.

  She ran to him, wrapping her arm around his waist and burrowing her face in his shoulder. She nibbled his skin in the way she’d learned drove him crazy.

  ‘Uh-huh. Got that. Yeah, Sarge, I—Elly,’ he hissed, covering the mobile with his hand, ‘not now. Elly, come on, stop that.’

  She laughed up at him, seeing the huge grin covering his face. ‘Make me.’ She began to pull off her clothes as her teeth continued to nibble his chest.

  ‘Yeah, Sarge. I, uh … yeah, that’s good …’ His voice had an anguished quality, gaze locked on Elly’s busy hands and mouth. ‘What about, um … yeah, Mrs Collins. Yeah, that’s her name. What’s she up to—Elly!’

  Her hand slipped into his open jeans; her tongue dipped in and out of his navel. ‘Hmmm?’ she purred. ‘Is there a problem?’

  His jeans fell to the ground, and he was naked beneath, completely aroused.

  ‘Yeah. Yeah, well, you know Baz. Thanks, Sarge. I’ll call later … um … Elly needs me now.’ His words were so fast they were almost incoherent. He disconnected, threw the phone into the car, stepped out of his jeans and lifted her in his arms, carrying her back to the cabin.

  ‘So you like to play games, huh, doc?’ he growled, laying her on the rug, nibbling exquisite places in retaliation.

  ‘Oh, yeah,’ she gasped, wriggling as he brought a pleasure to her body she hadn’t ever known to dream about. ‘You can play that one all day.’

  ‘You like this game?’ he murmured against her hip. ‘And I thought I was torturing you.’

  ‘Call me masochistic, but I love this game … mmm … cops and doctors.’

  ‘Since we both have a fixation with cuffs, we could try them again, in a different way.’ His brows lifted mockingly.

  She laughed. ‘I can hardly wait.’

  ‘It’s pretty hot in here.’ His eyes asked the question.

  Joy filled her. Claudius was here with her. ‘I could do with another swim.’

  Grinning, he grabbed her hand, and they bolted to the cool, slippery sensuality of the river.

  Sitting astride him after, legs still wrapped around his hips, she murmured, ‘I think something’s biting my toe.’

  ‘You want to get out?’

  She shook her head, smiling. ‘So what’s the update?’

  He sighed. ‘Rick’s on his rostered days off, and appears to be going his own way. The Mirakis are minding their own business, or so Baz says, but they have to leave Longa Station if their boss asks them to. Mrs Collins is hiding in her house behind closed curtains. No one’s seen her since last night.’

  ‘Did the roadblocks turn anything up?’

  ‘Only a priest on the road yesterday, two towns north of Macks Lake.’ He grinned. ‘Sarge said Baz is suspicious of his nearness to us, but Baz has this love-to-hate-’em attitude about religious people of any denomination. I don’t know what they did to him, but he’s a rabid agnostic, atheist—whatever.’

  She frowned. ‘Didn’t Jonas mention a priest visiting the Indigenous towns the other day? Isn’t that a little suspicious?’

  ‘No, it’s part of country life. We don’t have a Catholic priest here, just one Anglican minister and a few smaller denominations. Plenty of smaller outback towns don’t, these days. It’s not much use in some places. Farmers can’t take every Saturday off for confession and Sunday for mass. So once a month a priest from Broken Hill or Mildura visits here, stopping at the little towns and communities on the way, giving Mass, listening to confessions. I’ll check up when he last came, just in case. You never know. It could end up being an important lead.’

  In a few words, he was gone again—h
er sweet, giving lover vanished, and the cop took his place. Though she knew it was for her sake, it still hurt that he had a name, a place to belong, a settled job, a family, and she had nothing. The things she’d wanted all her life, a simple sense of belonging she’d only ever had with him, and he’d already taken it away.

  ‘I wonder if the Flying Doctors will take me back? I left without giving notice.’

  He frowned. ‘Remind me what town were you based in?’

  ‘Moongallee Creek.’

  ‘That’s five hundred kilometres from here.’

  ‘So the boy still likes maps.’ She laughed. ‘Four hundred and sixty-three, to be exact.’ She rose from his lap to put space between them.

  ‘You’re leaving Macks Lake.’ It was almost an accusation.

  She shrugged lightly. ‘Well, it was never a permanent thing moving here, Claudius; it was always just a visit. This is your town, not mine.’

  ‘Then what is it we’ve got here, Elly? Did you use me to get experience? Was I just some one-night thing for you?’

  ‘Wasn’t that what I was for you?’ she shot back, hurt by his sudden ferocity. ‘Come on, be honest. Would you have brought her here to this shack and made love to her? You made it clear where I stand. One night was all I’d get, and I took it.’

  He lifted her left hand. ‘Right, I made it so clear you’d only get one night by giving you a ring, and calling Minyenbarra? It wasn’t me who’s made it clear from the start that it was never going to last.’

  She narrowed her eyes. ‘I always knew better than to ask for anything more than this. Anything beyond one night would bring the fury of the whole Jepson clan down on your head for bringing home a blackfella!’

  ‘You do my family a disservice, believing they think so little of you, or judge you on your background. And even if they did, I don’t give a damn.’ His eyes flashed hot with an intensity of fury she’d never seen in him. ‘That’s always been your hang-up, not mine.’