Climbing Fear

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Climbing Fear Page 6

by Leisl Leighton


  ‘That’s so sad.’

  ‘Yes.’ She sighed. ‘I know Anna would have been so proud of what he’s done. I’m just not sure he sees it yet.’

  ‘I’m so sorry. Is there something I can do to help him?’

  Barb’s smile brightened. ‘You’re doing it. You’re here and you’re going to put your events, marketing and promotional smarts to work to help keep growing the business. Flynn’s done an amazing job but he’s taken that side as far as he can. He needs help.’

  ‘I’ll do my best.’

  Barb patted her arm. ‘I know you will.’

  ‘How old is Aaron?’

  ‘He’s almost eight—my youngest grandchild and a bigger mischief making scallywag with the face of an angel you’re unlikely to see. Just wait till you meet him. He’ll take your breath away.’

  ‘If he’s anything like Flynn, I can imagine.’

  ‘No, he’s more like Reid.’ She shook her head, chuckling. ‘I swear, that boy has given me more grey hairs than everyone else in the family put together, and now Aaron is giving him a run for his money with the antics he gets up to. He took to climbing up the old climbing wall Bob built for Reid and Luke when we found out they were climbing up the shafts of the mines and the unstable walls of the old quarry. It hadn’t been used since Reid left and parts of it was rotted. I swear it was a miracle he hadn’t killed himself. Anyway, Flynn had it torn down and he and Reid designed a newer, bigger and better version which Reid paid to have built. It’s huge, taller and wider than the original with about twenty progressively harder lines to climb. It even has a ridge lip and bouldering course.’

  ‘It sounds amazing,’ Nat said, a bit bewildered with the terminology.

  ‘It is. Reid made sure it was top-notch. He brought in some experts to build it. They even sprayed it with stuff to make it look like a rock face and I think Flynn intends to use it as part of the school camps, but we haven’t fitted it into the weeks as yet. We’re hoping Reid might help us with that.’

  Nat’s skin was prickling at every mention of Reid’s name.

  ‘Aaron loves it, little monkey that he is, although it still makes my heart leap into my chest when I see him swinging off it from the top. It’s why I had to start colouring my hair.’ She patted her do and then pierced Nat with a look. ‘Are you okay, dear?’

  Nat shifted, uncomfortable under the scrutiny. If she didn’t know better, she’d think Barb was mentioning Reid on purpose. ‘It’s just been a long day.’

  ‘Of course. You’ve had a long, difficult drive coming the way you did, although I understand. Reid always likes to come that way too. Says it is some of the best countryside in the world and he’d know given how much he’s travelled. I’ll have to show you my photo wall later—he’s sent me a postcard and photo of himself at every climb. Some of those places are mighty beautiful.’

  Nat nodded jerkily, her muscles clenching against the hot shiver that ran through her every time Barb mentioned her grandson. Thankfully, it was unlikely she’d see the man himself any time soon, given he was so busy doing his TV show and travelling the world. She’d just have to get used to hearing Barb talk proudly about her grandson, that’s all. ‘I’m sorry Flynn’s away at the moment. I was really looking forward to seeing him.’

  ‘As was he when he heard you’d be arriving while he was away. He was so happy to hear you were coming back.’

  ‘I bet he can’t wait to not have to worry about events and social media stuff.’ She chuckled. ‘Being social was never his thing.’

  Barb shook her head. ‘You’re right about that, but that isn’t all. He’s missed you. You two were thick as thieves when you were younger. You were the sister he never had—well, you know what I mean—and a friend.’

  Nat nodded, smiling. ‘I feel the same.’ His brothers and sisters were so much older than he was, so he really didn’t have close relationships with them, especially given all of them moved away as soon as they could. He had almost been like an only child, just like her. Until Reid had come to live here, and then they were never alone. Her mouth screwed sideways in a tight smile and she wandered to the corral fence, hooking her arms over the top rail. A pale palomino with a wide white blaze meandered over to her, nudging her shoulder. She laughed and stroked its soft pink nose. ‘It’s going to be so good to work with him.’

  ‘And Reid. He’s come back to help too.’

  Nat’s heart slammed in her chest and a hot flush rose over her face. She looked down at the path to hide it, kicking at a straggly dandelion with the toe of her boot. ‘Reid has come back? I … I thought he was due to start filming his new TV show. At least, that’s what the tabloids said.’ She was astonished her voice sounded so normal when her heart had kicked into overtime and a voice was screaming in her head that she didn’t have time. Didn’t have time.

  ‘Those tabloids—they never get anything right. Although, we kept his coming home quiet so he could have a break from their poking and prodding into his business.’ Barb sighed fondly. ‘He was having a bit of a hard time of it after Luke died in that accident—you know about that?’ Nat nodded. Even with everything going on after Andrew shot her and killed himself, she couldn’t help seeing some of the news. ‘He was having a hard time getting back into things, not to mention he had his own injuries to get over, so I told him to come back for a while and let me spoil him. I never expected he’d actually listen, but he did and now he’s here and you’re here and it’s all perfect.’

  Perfect? Nat smiled tightly and looked out over the pastures where horses stood scattered, cropping the grass. This wasn’t even close to perfect. What was she going to do?

  ‘Speak of the devil.’

  Nat froze at Barb’s words and then as if she moved in slow motion, her gaze followed the direction Barb was gesturing. A man had just exited the nearest stable and was striding down the path towards them, a slight hitch to his step, wiping his hands on an oily cloth. He looked up, saw them standing there, and hesitated, the expression on his face something more than shocked.

  As their eyes met, Nat’s heart did a slow roll in her chest, sank into her stomach and then ricocheted back up into her throat where it seemed to lodge in her windpipe, making it difficult to breathe. She clasped at her throat, rubbing at the uncomfortable feeling as if trying to move her heart back where it belonged. At the same time, she noticed his hands tightening on the cloth, twisting it as he stared at her for a long, hot, uncomfortable second. But before anyone aside from her noticed their moment of mutual discomfort, he walked forward, stuffing the cloth in his back pocket.

  Hell! She thought briefly of running, still ashamed of her impulsive behaviour all those years ago. Was he still hurt? Did he even care or remember? Maybe it was all water under the bridge—so much had happened since then. She was probably blowing things way out of proportion.

  Except, there was a look in his forest green eyes as he walked towards her that brought back memories she didn’t want to think about, that said nothing was ever as simple as she wished it to be.

  Before she had a chance to collect herself, to decide whether to run or stay, he was standing right in front of her, his gaze pinning her to the spot, mouth unsmiling.

  ‘Natalia? What the hell are you doing here?’

  Chapter 5

  ‘Reid!’ Barb scowled at him. ‘That was a rude way to greet Nat.’

  Yes, it was, but he couldn’t have called back the words to save himself. It was such a shock to see her after all this time. In fact, she was the last person he ever expected to see here again.

  Natalia Robinson. No, that wasn’t her name anymore, was it? It was something French sounding. Gateau. No, that was a cake. Gaston? No, that was the big obnoxious dude out of Beauty and the Beast. A fact he only knew because she’d made him watch that movie with her over and over again when they were younger.

  Whatever her name was now, it didn’t really matter. The fact she was here did.

  She hadn’t answered his question
. Was she a statue? No, statues didn’t check you out the way she’d done as he walked closer, those astonishing hazel eyes widening slightly before her gaze had lowered, sliding down and then up before coming back to his face. Christ! He sucked in a breath. How could a look feel so much like a caress? She’d always done that to him, from the first moment he’d seen her as an eight-year-old and she’d continued to tie him in knots until the events of that week he’d never managed to forget, ten years ago. But he’d been nineteen back then and she the ‘older woman’ at twenty-three. Things had changed. The age difference didn’t matter anymore, nor the fact that her prediction about him had been proved true.

  He firmed his jaw and made his features stay still as her gaze skittered to the scar on his lips and the one over his brow, stopped there. He knew what she was thinking of, their last night together and the idiot thing he’d done, chasing after her, trying to make her stay when he’d known she was never meant for him. Splitting his head open and ending up in hospital with a concussion and ten stitches had worked. She’d stayed for two more days until he was back at home, and then she’d left, her final words ringing in his ears for years after.

  He could see the memory of those words cloud her eyes, her denial of him and what they’d shared. He wanted to tell her it didn’t matter, that he’d forgotten all about it, except, he never had and that night had changed his life. He supposed he should thank her for the wake-up call, but seeing her now, he didn’t know if it was a thank you that wanted to come out of his mouth or something far more intimate.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets to stop from clenching them and stared at her. He’d asked her a question, hadn’t he? Why didn’t she answer? ‘Cat got your tongue?’

  ‘What?’ She blinked rapidly, her absurdly long dark eyelashes fluttering over freckled cheeks.

  He remembered kissing his way across those freckles, the memory a hot burn in his chest, stirring his cock in his jeans. Shit! He swallowed hard, bloody thankful he’d left the tails of his shirt hanging loose. ‘Why the hell are you here?’ Jesus, he didn’t mean to sound so hurt, so wronged. He tried again. ‘I thought you said you’d never come back.’ Not much better.

  ‘Reid!’ Barb hit him lightly on the arm, apparently agreeing with his summation of his manners. ‘Nat’s here to help us with our marketing and events. I told you that.’

  He didn’t break from staring at Nat, gaze locked with hers. ‘No, you didn’t.’

  ‘Didn’t I?’

  ‘No. You mentioned you’d hired someone to come on board and help with the marketing and promotion and events management, but you never said it was Natalia.’

  ‘I’m sure I did. You must have forgotten.’

  He broke eye contact with Nat and narrowed his eyes at his gran. ‘It’s not something I’m likely to forget.’

  ‘I’m sure I told you when you moved out of the cottage so they could move in.’

  ‘You were staying in the cottage?’ Natalia shifted a step back and their gazes clashed again. Her nostrils flared, eyes widening before her gaze skittered away, as if she didn’t know where to look. As if she was uncertain. That didn’t seem right. Natalia was never uncertain. ‘You left some things.’ Her eyes flickered back to him then away, pink creeping across her cheeks.

  What the hell had he left behind? ‘Sorry. I’ll pick it up later.’

  ‘I put them in a box.’

  ‘Okay.’

  They stood there awkwardly, staring at each other.

  ‘Goodness, you two, you’d think you’d never met each other before. How about kissing the girl, Reidy-boy? Give her a proper hello.’

  A kiss? He didn’t think so. Especially looking at her blushing face and those eyes that had always drawn him in but now shoved him away with the fear in the depths of them. Fear? Yes, fear. What he’d read as uncertainty was also tainted with fear. Why the hell would she fear him? Did she fear his reaction to seeing her after all these years? She shouldn’t. She might have broken his heart, but he’d known she wouldn’t stay. Not for him. Despite teenage dreams of happy ever afters, he’d known even when he went chasing after her, she wasn’t meant for him.

  So why the fear? Whatever the reason, it was a kick in the guts. Fear wasn’t something he would ever have associated with Nat—stubborn, determined, intelligent and beautiful in a wild way, like an unbroken Arabian stallion who dared you to capture them but could never be tamed. She faced life and welcomed it in. She’d challenged him to think bigger, to go out and capture his dreams. She’d given him so much, leaving him with far more that was positive than negative, even with his broken heart and the scar on his forehead. He really should thank her, not be snippy with her after all this time. What the hell was wrong with him?

  Making himself smile in earnest, he held out his hand. She stared at it and he had to stop himself from looking down to check it wasn’t covered in manure or something, but then she grasped it in a quick slide of cool skin, as smooth as silk against the rough coarseness of his. Her touch sent little darts of shock along his nerves and a swirl of cascading warmth running from his head to his groin.

  Some things never changed it seemed.

  His fingers closed around her hand, holding her still, unwilling quite yet to let go. Her gaze jerked up to his, the gold and green flecks in her hazel eyes seeming to spark to life, an echo of the flames now engulfing his nerves, his groin. She sucked in a breath. Hell, did she feel it too? Her flush deepened. She cleared her throat, tongue darting out to wet her lips. He zeroed in on the movement, unable to drag his gaze away from her lips. Kissing her was like sinking into sunshine. He wondered if she still tasted the same—like spices and honey and strawberries all combined.

  ‘Natalia.’

  Her mouth opened, her tongue darting out again, then a breath escaped, and with it, his name. ‘Reid?’

  ‘Hey, Mum. A horse just ate an apple out of my … Oh my god! It’s Reid Stratton! You’re Reid Stratton.’ The voice, now shrieking his name, broke through the gravitational pull of attraction. Nat’s head snapped to the left and she took a stumbling step back from him, her hand yanked out of his grip. Disappointment a rising wave in his chest threatening to steal his breath, he turned to see the source of the shriek that had broken the perfect moment. A young girl was standing over near the corrals next to Lisa, doing the dance of the hysterically excited pre-teen—a dance he’d become familiar with over the years as his popularity had grown—Bos, Charlie and Farrah all dancing around her barking excitedly. Thankfully, the horses standing nearest them in the corral were used to the dogs and noise because otherwise there’d be a stampede.

  ‘Oh my god. Oh my god. You’re Reid Stratton. I love Climbing High. It’s my favourite show. Isn’t it, Mum?’ She danced a couple of steps closer, making little excited shrieky noises. ‘I can’t believe you’re here. Oh my god! You’re so cool! Oh my god! I can’t believe I’m meeting you! Whenever I was at my friend’s place or the neighbour’s I watched your shows and my friend Stacey has all your posters pinned all over her wall … Daddy wouldn’t let me put posters up on my wall, not that Mum would have let me bring them with me—she barely let me bring anything with me … but oh my god … you’re better looking than even on all your posters! Stacey’s not going to believe me when I tell her I met you!’

  Mum? Had she just called Nat, Mum? Nat was a mum?

  He looked more closely at the girl. Her black hair was curly, not like her mother’s thick, shiny waves—oh, how many times had he been driven insane with thoughts of thrusting his fists in the silken mass of Nat’s hair while taking her mouth in a kiss? No, don’t think of that now. He quickly bypassed the hair and tried to find other similarities between the girl and Nat. She did have her mum’s pointed chin and hazel eyes—perhaps with a bit more green in them—and the skin colour and scattering of freckles across her cheeks and nose were certainly the same as Nat’s.

  Nat had a girl. Shit. Given her size, she’d be around eight or nine, so she must have g
ot pregnant pretty much as soon as she got married. She’d run from here back to her ex and the next thing he’d heard, they were married. Hearing that had almost killed him.

  Was she still married? The girl had mentioned her daddy but was she divorced? Widowed? She wasn’t wearing a ring.

  ‘Are you trying to catch flies, Reidy-boy?’ Barb quipped, laughter in her eyes.

  He snapped his mouth shut.

  Nat’s horrified eyes were still on her daughter who was hopping from one foot to the other, making little squealy noises as she gazed up at him adoringly. ‘Good Lord, Tilly, take a breath, it’s only Reid.’

  ‘You know Reid Stratton from Climbing High!’ her daughter cried. ‘Why didn’t you ever tell me? I can’t believe you know him! Oh my god. Oh my god!’

  Nat’s gaze skated back to Reid before returning to her daughter. ‘I’m sorry, Reid. I don’t know what’s come over her.’

  Her consternation amused him for some reason. ‘That’s okay. I’m used to it.’

  Nat frowned. ‘Maybe you are, but I’m not. Matilda Garonne, stop that squawking right now. You’re embarrassing Mr Stratton, not to mention yourself.’

  Garonne! That was the name. ‘It’s okay.’ Reid touched her shoulder trying for comfort, except that the moment his hand contacted her bare skin—why the hell was she wearing a tank top, when she knew she’d get burned to a crisp in the midday sun—tendrils of sparking sensation shot from the point of contact up his arm. Given the fact she jumped and twitched away from his touch, she’d felt the same dangerous current. He let his hand drop back to his side. ‘Sorry. I was just trying to say that going by experience, she’ll calm down in a minute.’

 

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