by Polly Carter
She had to get out. Quickly drinking the last of her coffee, putting on her sunglasses, and collecting her bag, she fled past the crowd at the counter, through the door, out onto the street and straight into a tall, well-dressed man standing by the window.
“Oof! Oh, sorry…” she mumbled but as her eyes rose to the face above her the words died in her throat. “Arian!” she gasped in disbelief, staring into the eyes of the man blocking her path.
“Hal! Is that you?” Arian Fletcher said in shocked surprise. “My God, it is. Come here. Let me look at you.” His hands took hold of her shoulders and she could feel the iron tension in his grip. “Crikey, Hal, you’re shaking like a leaf! Come here.” He pulled her closer to the cafe wall so they were out of the way of passing pedestrians and, without letting her go, reclined back against it and studied her.
Harley’s legs felt like cooked spaghetti and she had to lean against his hands for support, able only to stare at him in disbelief. If she had thought her life had a dream-like, albeit a bad dream, quality to it before, it had suddenly turned utterly surreal. She might think him a phantom, conjured by her thoughts of him over coffee, except that her shoulders were aching from the firmness of his grip.
“As beautiful as ever,” he said. “And you’ve cut your hair! I like it, but I’m glad you kept this.” He fluffed her fringe. “Very cute.” His eyes trailed over her face and down the rest of her. “But, God, Hal, you’re so pale and thin.” His brow creased in a worried frown, he reached up to gently touch her face as though even the brush of a feather might bruise her. “What’s wrong? Are you all right? Are you ill?”
From the instant she’d seen him, her whole being had filled with his presence and the world about her had ceased to exist. He looked a little older; the last traces of boyhood had disappeared, not just from the passing of years but also from battles fought and experiences endured. Tiny creases had formed above his long, thick black eyebrows and at the edges of his deep brown eyes and generous mouth, not so much laugh-lines more grim determination ones. His black trousers and white business shirt didn’t hide the bulk and hardness of his muscular chest and arms, which, like everything about him, exuded ripe alpha-male power. He was gorgeous. He was married. Her life was a mess. She hated the world.
“Arian?” she said again, shaking her head in disbelief. It couldn’t be. Her stomach heaved, threatening to regurgitate coffee all over his shoes. “I’m fine.” Brushing off his question, she swallowed hard forcing her stomach back down as she tried to wriggle away from his hands. The nausea subsided and anger sprang back up to take its place.
“What are you doing here? I thought you were in Sydney?” she snapped.
“My God, it really is you, then! I saw you through the window and thought it was but didn’t recognise the short hair and snazzy suit.” He grinned, seemingly not noticing her clenched fists and tight lips. “That’s a new look. What gives? Where’s the scruff I used to know and love? Do you doll yourself up like this for work nowadays?”
“No. Let go of me.”
His eyes were devouring her so intently, ignoring her frosty glare, she had to look away unable to withstand the force of his scrutiny. Her movement seemed to snap him out of his astonishment. His shoulders dropped and he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Sorry. It’s just the shock of bumping into you like this. What did you say? Oh, Sydney. Yeah, I was in Sydney. For a few weeks, but I’m back in Perth permanently now as of last week. I joined a firm in the Terrace. I just dropped some documents off at the court.” He gestured to the building across the road and shook his head as though it hurt. “I can’t believe I bumped into you like this. I know Perth is small, but it ain’t that small. Are you working around here?”
“No,” she said breathlessly through tight lips and chattering teeth. “I was just passing, and now I’m going.”
Arian grabbed hold of her again, squinted his eyes and pursed his lips, looking at her as though there was something he wanted to say. Staring back, Harley’s anger briefly vanished and her heart plummeted. Once this strong, powerful, gorgeous man had belonged to her, and she’d walked away. She had been kicking herself about that for quite a while but seeing him again just added a steel-capped boot to the foot she was using. How could I have been so stupid? Well, easily, considering how stupid I’ve been since. Then the anger returned. It wasn’t my fault. It was his.
“Oh. So… What are you doing with yourself these days? Are you working? Are you busy? I know you just had a coffee, but any chance of another one? I’ve got a few minutes, I think. I’d love to catch up.”
“No,” Harley snapped. She wriggled again, but he kept hold of her, looking expectantly for her to say more. A buzzing from his pocket saved her. He pulled out his phone, still holding her with one hand, and after a quick annoyed glance shoved it back in.
“Damn, I have to go,” he said. “I’ve got someone waiting for me at the office. I’d get out of it if I could. If I let you go, you’re not going to suddenly disappear on me again, are you, Hal?” She could hear the underlying bitterness. “Where are you living? Can we meet for lunch or something?”
“No,” Harley said rudely. “I don’t get into town much.”
He pulled out his phone again. “Okay. But give me your number. I’ll call. We can arrange something.”
“No, Arian. I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Harley had thought life couldn’t be any more cruel than it had been already and yet here it was twisting the knife in the still-raw wound that was Arian and re-opening it.
“Why not?” He looked shocked. His phone buzzed again. “Damn.” He shoved it back in his pocket as his brow darkened and furrowed. He lifted her left hand so he could see her fingers. “You’re not married or anything are you? Boyfriend?”
“None of your business.” Harley snatched her hand away. “Let go of me.”
“No ring at least,” he said grimly, his eyes searching her face. “Look, I have to go now, but I really want to see you, Hal. I’ll call your mum and get your number. And I’ll give her mine if you won’t let her give me yours again. Then you call me. Or else.”
“Get lost! Or else what? You can’t just turn up out of the blue and order me around, Arian.”
“You will see me this time, Hal. Like it or not.” His voice and expression brooked no dissent. “Your mother hasn’t moved, has she?” Arian asked as the thought struck him. “She’s still living in the same house in Gooseberry Hill?”
Harley squirmed. She hated lying but didn’t want to give him any information either. Her life was hard enough; she didn’t want to have to explain it to Arian, she didn’t want to be ‘friends’ with a married Arian, and she didn’t want him back in her life briefly and then have to endure another break and another final separation. “No,” she eventually said, her mouth so dry she could barely get the word out.
“So she is,” Arian replied nodding his head. “You’re lying, Hal. Have you forgotten I can always tell when you’re lying?” He tilted her face up so she couldn’t avoid his eyes. His were dark and searching. Then he grinned. “And remember what used to happen when you lied to me?”
“I’m not lying,” Harley said, twisting her face away as she felt her cheeks start to burn, and wriggling to get away from him. He let her go but kept hold of her hand. She looked up at him. “Let go of me.” He shook his head.
“Not lying? That’s another lie, isn’t it? I used to put you over my knee and spank you when you lied to me. Maybe I should do that again, do you think?” His voice and expression suddenly lost all playfulness, and his eyes darkened. “Has anyone else been spanking you since me?”
“No.”
“No, you don’t think I should do it again? Or no, no-one else has spanked you?”
“Both!” she said hotly, but as the almost forgotten but instantly recognisable ache arose in response to his talking about spanking her, she squeezed her thighs together. “Let me go, Arian,” she demanded. “Or I’ll scream and make a scene.�
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“Okay,” he said, immediately letting go of her and raising his hands in mock surrender. “Why are you so angry, Hal?” His phone buzzed again. “Damn. Never mind. You can explain it to me next time. I will find you and next time I see you,” he went on, pulling back and looking into her eyes, “you’re going to have to do some pretty fast talking if you want to get out of going over my knee for lying to me now. It’s been a long time. My hand is itching already.”
And with that parting promise and a quick brush of his lips on her forehead, he was gone.
Chapter 2
Stunned, Harley watched Arian walk briskly to the intersection and wait for the lights to change. He didn’t look back, just waited for the ‘walk’ sign and then crossed, making his way towards the Terrace. She stayed watching him until he disappeared.
The minute he was gone, awareness of everything else came rushing back. It was hot. She was hot, dripping, in fact. It was late. Her stop for a quick cup of coffee after her business was finished had stretched out to nearly an hour. Pulling her phone from her bag as she crossed Hay Street and made her way quickly to the car park, she texted Jessamy. Arian! Just saw Arian! Don’t ask. Tell all tomorrow xxx
Once in her car, she hooked her phone into its cradle, put it on speaker, and called her mother who was waiting for news. Harriet answered as Harley pulled out of the car park and headed out of town.
“Hey, Mum. Everything went as expected. May 27th,” Harley said.
“Oh, darling. That’s awful. I was sure they’d throw it out today.”
“No such luck. Looks like I’m not going to get out of it.”
“Oh that’s terrible. Are you okay? Do you want me to come and fetch you?”
“Thanks, Mum. I’m okay. I’m just heading home now. Are you at your office? Okay. Well, I’ll be in plenty of time to fetch Lyddia so there’s no need to leave work early. I’ll tell you everything when I get home. Not that there’s much to tell.”
As she ended the call, she had a pang of guilt about not mentioning Arian. She knew her mother would be as surprised as she had been that she’d bumped into him. She would tell her later, but right now she just wanted some time to get used to the idea that he was back in Perth, and the thirty-minute drive from the city to Gooseberry Hill would give her time to think.
Arian was the very last person she had expected to see when she left home that morning. As far as she knew he had moved back from the States with his wife to take a job in Sydney. When her mother had told her she’d seen a photograph in the paper of him and his wife arriving at Sydney airport, the news of his marriage had been like a knife in her heart. Now here he was, no mention of any wife, and saying he was going to see her again and spank her!
In a second, the memories and emotions came rushing back. She quickly turned off Great Eastern Highway onto a side street, pulled over and turned the engine off. She tilted her seat back and closed her eyes.
It was nearly eight years ago, she was nineteen and parking her car but, as she pulled in to parallel park against the kerb, her phone rang. She picked it up off the passenger seat, taking her eyes and mind off her driving, and clipped the Audi she was pulling in front of. Quickly getting her car straight, she jumped out to inspect the damage, and saw the side of her car had scraped the Audi above its right front wheel. While it wasn’t a big dent, it was going to cost more money to fix than she had. Her part-time job at the supermarket barely paid enough for her to live on and wouldn’t at all if she weren’t living rent-free with her mother. There was certainly nothing left over to pay for repairs to expensive cars. Glancing around, she couldn’t see anyone watching. She could just jump into her car and drive away. The Audi owner would never know who’d done it, and besides it was an expensive car so presumably the owner had it insured and was rich and could afford to have it fixed.
But what if someone were watching and thought to take down her number plate? She should leave a note on the windscreen. Any busybodies watching wouldn’t bother with her car’s identity if they thought she’d left her contact details. Pulling a notebook and pen from her bag, she quickly scrawled a note, folded it and slipped it under the wiper. Now she just needed to make her getaway before anyone came.
And that was the moment, dressed in old jeans and a windcheater, and standing in front of her now dented, twelve-year-old Mitsubishi, that Harley met Arian Fletcher and lost her heart. She had never seen such a gorgeous man before in her life. Six years older than she and already a practising lawyer, he seemed to embody sophistication as he walked up to the Audi with the assurance of a young man utterly in charge of his life. Like her, he was also wearing blue jeans, but newer and cleaner, a white T-shirt and black leather jacket.
“Hello. What’s up?” he asked. “Ah,” he said noticing the note under the wiper and the dent at the rear of her car. He slipped the note out, then walked around and looked at the scrape in his paintwork, and back at her with an amused grin. “Did you do that?”
Harley nodded. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean to. I’ve never hit another car before. Oh, I’m so sorry.” Harley knew she was babbling, and also realised to her horror she was in danger of bursting into tears. She had just met the most divine man on the planet and she looked like someone had dragged her through a hedge backwards, she’d dented his car, she’d left that note, she’d been sprung and now she was talking gibberish. Crying would be the final humiliation.
“It’s okay.” He smiled kindly at her. “No need to get yourself in a tizz. Accidents happen. It’s not the end of the world. How did it happen?”
Harley squirmed, and without thinking looked down at the phone she was holding. Arian noticed immediately.
“You weren’t playing with your phone, were you?”
“No. Of course not!” she replied indignantly. “It rang and I just picked it up to see who was calling and…” her voice trailed off as she realised she’d just admitted it had happened because she had been distracted by her phone, even if she wouldn’t have described it as ‘playing with your phone’.
“I see.” Arian nodded. “Well, are you insured at least?”
Miserably, Harley shook her head. “No. But I will pay for it, I promise,” she added in a rush. He might not think it the end of the world, but she’d just met the man of her dreams and blown it on an atomic scale.
“Well, cheer up then. You look like you’re about to burst into tears. There’s no need for that. I have a mate who’s a panel beater, and it’s only one panel. But we can sort it out, and at least you’ve done the right thing leaving me your contact details. Someone else might have just driven off.”
Harley’s heart sunk right through her shabby old runners and disappeared to the centre of the earth as she watched him open the note and read it to himself.
And then he read it aloud. ‘I’m pretending this is my contact details because people might be watching. Sorry about your car.’ He looked up at her like someone might look at a five-year-old child caught pinching a cupcake from the table before the guests arrived. “Didn’t you forget something? A name? Phone number perhaps?”
Harley shuffled with embarrassment.
“I’m really sorry,” she mumbled, putting on her sweetest and most innocent expression. “I… I…”
“Yes,” he prompted, not about to let her off the hook. “You…?”
Harley looked at him wondering if he could become annoying despite those good looks. She shrugged. “I don’t have any money. Obviously. Look at me. Look at my car. I figured you’d be insured, and… and even if you aren’t, you own a fancy car so you must be rich and can afford to fix it.”
He didn’t answer. Just kept looking at her. Amused but stern. She stared back. Then that got too difficult. She looked away. She waited. She squirmed. He still didn’t speak.
“Okay, okay. I shouldn’t have done it. It was wrong. I’m sorry,” she said at last throwing her arms out in a mixture of surrender and exasperation.
He folded his arms,
leaned back against his car and studied her with an amused grin.
“So, what is your name, Miss ‘Sorry about your car’?” he asked at last.
“Harley. Harley Brand.”
“Well, Harley Brand. I’m pleased to meet you, although I’m not so pleased about the circumstances. I don’t suppose my dad will be either; it’s his car.” He held out his hand. “I’m Arian Fletcher, and don’t worry if there are any legal aspects you need help with, I’m a lawyer.”
Harley shook the hand he had extended to her. It was big and warm, and held hers snugly. She liked the way it felt. She liked everything about Arian Fletcher, except his father’s stupid car.
“Look, I’ll give you my number,” she said, deciding that she actually did want him to have it “but I can’t afford to pay for your car to be fixed. I don’t have any money and I’m already in debt. Isn’t there something else I can do to make it up to you? Clean your house or something? I’ll do anything.”
“Anything?”
She nodded eagerly. “Yes, anything. Honest. Just name it. I’d be happy to come over and clean or cook or something…” Her voice trailed off as she realised how desperate she sounded for him to ask her over. “Well, maybe not clean your folks place if you live with them, but something else,” she finished lamely. “Just not money. I don’t have any.”