Читать книгу New Year, New Man - Laura Iding - Страница 17

‘SOMETHING to drink, Sarah?’

Sarah’s head turned. She’d been staring through the plane window at the panoramic vista below. They’d not long taken off from Mascot Airport and hadn’t yet reached any clouds.

‘Yes, please,’ she said to both Nick and the hovering stewardess. ‘What can I have?’

‘How about a glass of champagne?’ Nick suggested.

‘At seven-fifteen in the morning?’

‘Why not?’

‘Nick, you are terrible,’ she chided, but jokingly. ‘OK, champagne it is.’

‘And you, sir?’ the flight attendant asked.

‘I’ll have what she’s having.’

Sarah’s laugh enchanted him, as did she. There was no artifice in her, no pretend sophistication. She was a pleasant change from the kind of woman he usually dated.

Once she was handed her glass of champagne, Sarah turned back to gaze intently through the window, her nose close to the rim.

Truly, she was like a child on her first flight.

Nick stared at her as he waited for his drink. She looked about sixteen this morning, wearing little make-up, no jewellery and a simple black and white sun-dress. Her hairstyle was young too, the sides scooped up into schoolgirlish combs, the rest falling loosely down her back.

The flight attendant was probably thinking he was a shameless cradle-snatcher. Nick detected a knowing glint in the woman’s eyes as she handed him his glass of champagne.

Not that he cared what she thought, or anyone else for that matter. Nick had become so besotted by Sarah that he was already considering extending the length of their affair.

Of course, a month of non-stop sex with her at his holiday house on Happy Island might return him to a wiser course of action. He really hadn’t had enough time to burn out his lust for Sarah since the first night they’d spent together.

Apart from anything, they’d been very busy, visiting Flora at the hospital and seeing to her health needs.

Fortunately, the specialist had located the source of the angina, a minor blockage in one artery that had been successfully cleared without the need for open-heart surgery. When the doctor had suggested a holiday for his quickly recovering patient, Nick had offered Jim and Flora his penthouse on the Gold Coast, which was fully serviced, with meals readily available, either in the restaurant downstairs or delivered to their apartment door. They’d jumped at the chance of an all-expenses-paid jaunt and Nick had seen them off at the airport three days ago, New Year’s Eve.

Which had left him alone in the house with Sarah.

As Nick settled back to sip his champagne, his mind drifted back to the thirty-first of December…

He’d chilled some white wine, ordered in a five-star meal from a local restaurant, then set everything up on the balcony to the master bedroom, the perfect setting for a romantic, candlelit dinner. The perfect setting for New Year’s Eve as well, with the uninterrupted view of Sydney Harbour—the water, the city and the bridge—which was always the showpiece of the fireworks.

Not that they got to see the fireworks, either at nine or at midnight, each occasion finding them otherwise occupied inside. After nearly a week of abstinence, he was insatiable, both for Sarah’s beautiful body and her rapturous responses, Nick wallowing with wicked selfishness in the transparency of her feelings for him.

Nick could not get enough of her that night. Or the next day. Oddly enough, he didn’t want to try out lots of different positions. He was content to just be in bed with her.

That evening, however, she suddenly called a halt, claiming she was exhausted. That night she slept alone, in her pink-quilted, little-girl bed.

Nick didn’t argue. He could see she was determined. But he wasn’t happy, resolving during that long, restless night that the following morning he would persuade her to go away with him to Happy Island, where she wouldn’t be able to escape him.

Fortunately, he hadn’t cancelled the airline tickets he’d booked for himself and Chloe.

Sarah’s reaction to his invitation over breakfast seriously surprised Nick.

‘Surely you can’t expect me to go away with you on the same holiday you planned with Chloe!’ she threw at him.

Nick quickly saw that his sensitivity meter was registering very low, Sarah making it clear what she thought of his suggestion.

He had to work hard all day to make Sarah see he wasn’t treating her as a substitute for Chloe. Some tender lovemaking seemed to soften her stubborn attitude a little. But he finally struck the right note when he said that he’d never taken Chloe—or any of his other girlfriends—to Happy Island before. She would be the first female to share his holiday house with him.

It was both the truth, and a lie. He had taken Chloe there for one short weekend back in September. But, as it had turned out, she’d fallen ill with food poisoning on the flight there. She’d been unwell the whole time, unable to do anything but stay in bed and read. Nick decided in his male mind that that didn’t count.

After agreeing to go with him, Sarah had surprised him once again when she’d insisted on spending last night alone in her bedroom. She’d said she needed a good night’s sleep, since they had to get up so very, very early.

Nick had been wide awake well before his alarm went off, his desire more intense than ever.

But it wouldn’t be long now. Soon he would have her all to himself again in a place where she had nowhere to run to. Or to hide.

‘Oh, I can’t see anything any more,’ Sarah said wistfully as she slumped back into her seat, her champagne glass still untouched. ‘The clouds are in the way.’

Nick smiled. ‘Anybody would think you hadn’t flown before.’

‘It’s been years since I have,’ she said, then finally took a sip of champagne.

‘Really?’

‘I haven’t had much money left for holidays, what with paying for my rent and my car and general living expenses.’

Nick frowned. ‘You could have asked me for some money for a holiday,’ he said. ‘I never did agree with Ray for leaving you that short of funds.’

‘It was probably good for my character. At least I’m not spoiled.’

Nick’s frown deepened. No, he thought. She certainly wasn’t. But would spending time with him change her character? He wanted to educate her, not corrupt her. He would hate for her to turn out like Chloe, who thought of no one’s pleasure but her own.

‘Now, what’s that frown all about?’ she asked him. ‘You’re not worrying about Flora and Jim, are you? I spoke to them last night and they’re as happy as can be up there on the Gold Coast. It was a brilliant idea of yours to lend them your penthouse. Very generous, too.’

Nick decided not to let her go back into hero-worship mode. Bad enough that she probably thought she was in love with him.

‘Come, now, Sarah, you know very well it wasn’t generosity that inspired my offer. It was a strictly selfish proposition. I wanted them right out of the way.’

‘You’re not the only one,’ she said, then blushed.

It got to him, that blush, sparking a desire so intense that his flesh ached.

‘I wish I could kiss you right now,’ he said.

‘Why can’t you?’ she returned, her cheeks still pink.

‘Because I wouldn’t want to stop there,’ he ground out. ‘Next thing you knew, we’d be joining the mile-high club.’

Her nose wrinkled with distaste. ‘No way could you get me to do that. I’ve always thought sex on a plane to be the height of tackiness.’

‘Hear! Hear!’ Nick said, and raised his glass to her. No way, he realised with considerable relief, would she ever become like Chloe.

It would be damned difficult to go back to girls like Chloe after being with Sarah…

As Sarah sipped her champagne, she wondered if Nick really approved of her view. Maybe he thought her prudish, since he’d always claimed to be a roué.

But surprisingly, other than that first incident, when he’d pushed her down to her knees, her sexual encounters with him had not been the least bit decadent. Passionate, yes. But not dark.

On New Year’s Eve he’d been very romantic, something he’d claimed he would never be.

Sarah held the opinion that people were as good, or as bad, as you let them be. Certainly, that applied to children. She’d discovered during her teaching years so far that if she had high expectations of her pupils they usually lived up to them.

Especially the so-called bad boys.

Nick was a bad boy. But he wasn’t bad through and through, no matter what he thought of himself, and no matter what he’d done in the past. Her father had seen his worth. Her dad had also expected a lot of Nick. And Nick had lived up to those expectations.

Admittedly, he’d lost his way a bit since Ray’s death. Sarah could not deny that he had earned his playboy reputation. Women had been relegated to sex toys in his life for so long that it probably was foolish of her to think he would ever embrace a better way of life. With her.

Very foolish.

But love was foolish, wasn’t it?

Why else was she sitting here, in a seat that had been booked for Chloe? The bottom line was that if Chloe hadn’t made that faux pas on Christmas Day, she’d be the one sitting here today.

This pessimistic train of thought irritated Sarah to death. Hadn’t she decided last night to be positive, and not negative; to view Nick’s invitation to share a whole month with him as a step towards a real relationship? Hadn’t she vowed to use this time not just to explore the sexual chemistry between them, but also to revive that special bond which had sprung up all those years ago when they’d both been so very lonely?

She hoped that, besides the sex, they would have deep and meaningful conversations during which Nick would tell her everything about himself, and vice versa.

‘You’re not drinking your champagne,’ Nick pointed out.

Sarah turned a rueful smile his way. ‘It is a little early. I think coffee would have been a better choice.’

‘It’s a woman’s privilege to change her mind,’ he said amiably, and pressed the button for service.

Sarah watched with pride as he gave the stewardess back the champagne and asked for coffee instead. She loved his decisiveness, his ‘can-do’ attitude. Nick was a natural leader, something her father had once commented on.

Sarah believed he would make a great husband and father. But would Nick ever believe it?

‘I have a confession to make,’ he said after the coffee arrived.

Sarah’s stomach contracted. ‘Nothing that will upset me, I hope.’

‘No reason why it should.’

‘Out with it, then.’

‘I read all your Christmas cards. The ones on your dressing table.’

Her stomach relaxed. ‘Oh? When?’

‘Yesterday. When you were having a shower.’

‘And?’

‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen such glowing words. It’s a privilege to be in the company of the “bestest” teacher in the whole wide world.’

Sarah laughed. ‘A slight exaggeration. But I am pretty good.’

‘And yet you’ve resigned?’

‘Only from my current school. I’ll find another position closer to home. Possibly at a preschool. I’m very fond of small children. They have such open minds.’

‘I don’t have any patience with small children.’

‘Lots of men don’t. But they change, once they have their own.’

His glance was sharp. ‘I won’t. Because I don’t intend having any of my own.’

Sarah kept her expression calm. ‘Why’s that?’

‘Fathering is a learned skill, passed on from generation to generation. The only example I ever had of fathering is not something I’d like to pass on.’

‘Not every child of abusive parents becomes an abuser themselves, Nick,’ she said carefully.

‘Perhaps not. But why take the chance? The world has enough children. They won’t miss mine.’

‘You might change your mind if you were presented with one.’

He whipped his head round to glare at her. ‘You have brought your pills with you, haven’t you? You’re not going to try that old pregnancy trap. Because it won’t work, Sarah. Not with me.’

The coldness in his eyes sent a chill running down her spine.

But she refused to give up on him. For now, anyway.

‘I have no intention of trying to trap you with a baby, Nick. And yes, I have brought my pills. You can feed me one every day, if you’d like.’

‘I just might do that.’

‘Have you always been this paranoid about pregnancy?’

‘Let’s just say you’re the first female I’ve ever had sex with without a condom.’

‘It’s nice to know that I’m unique.’

He smiled wryly as he shook his head at her. ‘You are that, all right. Now, drink your coffee before it goes cold and I have to call the stewardess again.’

She drank her coffee quickly, anxious to get back to their conversation. It would be a couple more hours before they landed on Happy Island, with Nick imprisoned by her side all that time. Sarah didn’t think she’d ever have a better opportunity to find out all the things she’d ever wanted to know about him. She suspected that once they hit Happy Island, there might not be too much talking done.

‘Tell me about your life, Nick,’ she said when she finally put the coffee down. ‘Before you came to work for Dad. I’m curious.’

‘I never talk about that part of my life, Sarah.’

‘But that’s silly. It’s not as though I don’t already know quite a bit. I know you had a horrible father and that you ran away from home to live on the streets when you were only thirteen. And I know that you were put in jail for car-stealing when you were eighteen.’

‘Then you know enough, don’t you?’

‘Those are just the bare facts. I want you to fill in the details.’

Nick sighed. ‘You do pick your moments.’

‘I think I have the right to know some more about the man I’m sleeping with, don’t you? You used to give my boyfriends the third degree.’

‘But I’m not your boyfriend. I’m your secret lover. Secret lovers are often men of mystery.’

‘Sorry, but you’re not my secret lover any longer. I told Flora last night that we were together.’

‘You what?’

Sarah shrugged. ‘I said I was sorry.’

‘Like hell you are. You’re a conniving, manipulative little minx.’

Sarah could see that he wasn’t as angry as he was trying to sound. And she had no intention of backing off.

‘So are you going to tell me your life story, or not?’

‘Do you think you’re up for it, little girl?’

‘Don’t insult my intelligence, Nick. I might not have been around like you, but I watch the news at night, and I can read. I know about the big, bad world. Nothing you say will shock me.’

What a naïve statement, Sarah was to discover over the next quarter of an hour as she listened to Nick’s dreadful life story.

His mother had run off when he’d been too young to remember her, his lone-parent father a violent and drunken good-for-nothing who taught his son to shoplift when he was only five and beat him every other day. Sarah was appalled as Nick described being not only punched and slapped, but also beaten with belts and burned with cigarettes.

Naturally, Nick’s schooling had been limited—he was kept away a lot—but he was smart enough to learn to read and write. Love, of course, had been an unknown emotion. He’d counted himself lucky to be fed. Survival had been the name of the game.

When he’d gone into puberty at thirteen, he’d suddenly shot up in height and was able to look his father straight in the eye. For the first time when his father hit him, Nick had hit back.

He hadn’t actually run away from home as she’d thought. He’d been literally thrown out into the street with only the clothes he was wearing.

He’d stayed in a refuge for a while, but was unfortunate enough to find one that was run by someone who wasn’t interested in helping, just in pocketing his salary. Not the best introduction to the welfare system for an already emotionally scarred child. After running away from there, Nick had made his way to King’s Cross in Sydney, where he squatted in derelict buildings and made money the only way he knew: by stealing. Not shoplifting. Mostly he broke into parked cars and stole the contents.

He’d resisted joining a gang, not wanting to rely on anyone but himself. He had made a few friends, but they were all low-life, pimps and prostitutes and drug-dealers. Inevitably, he’d been drawn into drug use himself. Anything to make his existence more bearable.

Addiction of any kind, however, took money. So he had started breaking and entering, plus stealing the cars themselves, rather than just the contents.

‘One night,’ he said, ‘I made a mistake and got caught. I went to jail, met your father and the rest is history, as they say.’

Sarah was close to tears. ‘Oh, Nick…’

‘I did warn you.’

‘You survived, though.’

‘Let me tell you about that kind of survival,’ he bit out. ‘It makes you think of no one but yourself. You become hard, and cold, and capable of just about anything. When I first met your father when I was in jail, I didn’t give a damn about him, only what he could do for me. I saw a means of escape and I grabbed it with both hands. When I finally got out of jail and came to work as Ray’s chauffeur, I thought he was a sucker. I had no feelings for him whatsoever.’

‘But you did, in the end,’ she said. ‘You loved him.’

‘I respected him. That’s not the same as love.’

‘I see…’

‘No, you don’t. You don’t see at all. You can’t, till you’ve lived in my shoes. I’ve told you once, now I’ll tell you again: men like me can’t love anyone.’

‘I don’t believe that,’ she muttered. She couldn’t. For if she did, her future was unbearable. ‘You weren’t that bad when you came to live with us. You were kind to me for starters.’

‘Was I? Or was I just trying to get in good with the boss?’

Sarah frowned. She’d never thought of his actions in that light before.

‘Damn it all, don’t look at me like that. OK, so I did like you. You were a nice kid.’

‘You still like me,’ she said with a smile of relief.

‘Yeah. I still like you.’

As admissions went, it wasn’t much, but it made Sarah feel better. Things suddenly looked a bit brighter. But she felt a change of subject was called for.

‘Have you heard anything about your movie yet?’

She’d never seen Nick look so confused. ‘What?’

‘Didn’t you say that movie you’d put so much money into was coming out in the New Year? Well, it’s the third of January. That’s past the New Year.’

The penny dropped for Nick. His lurid background was too much for Sarah. Hopefully, she wouldn’t bring it up again. Talking about movies he could cope with. His past was best kept locked in the dungeon.

‘It came out yesterday to mixed reviews,’ he told her. ‘It’ll take a few more days before the public’s verdict has come in.’

‘What’s it called?’

‘Back to the Outback. It’s a sequel to Outback Bride. It has the same writer-director.’

‘That should do well, surely. Everyone who saw and loved Outback Bride will come to see it.’

‘That’s what we’re hoping.’

‘Is it any good? Sequels often aren’t as good as the original.’

‘I think it is.’

‘But the critics didn’t.’

‘A couple of them did. The others hated the tragic ending.’

‘Who dies? Not Shane, I hope.’

‘No, Brenda.’

‘Brenda! That’s even worse. You can’t kill off the heroine in a romance. There has to be a happy ending, Nick.’

‘Rubbish. Lots of romances have unhappy endings.’

‘Only the ones written by men,’ she said disgustedly. ‘How does she die?’

‘She’s shot saving her child from the baddies,’ he said defensively, as if that made it all right.

‘No excuses. She simply cannot die. Why couldn’t she have been shot, but still live? Truly, you should have talked to me about this earlier, Nick. I would have advised you.’

‘She needed to die. She was no good for Shane. Their romance was flawed and their marriage was a disaster waiting to happen. She hated life in the country and was threatening to go back to the city and take the child when the baddies from her earlier life show up. The sequel isn’t really a romance, Sarah, it’s a drama.’

‘You can call it what you like. It sounds awful.’

‘Thank you for the vote of confidence.’

The captain announcing that they were expecting some turbulence and everyone was to belt up terminated what was becoming a heated exchange.

‘Typical,’ Nick muttered as he snapped his seat belt shut.

‘What do you mean?’ Sarah asked, grabbing at the armrests when the plane shuddered.

‘January is cyclone season in this neck of the woods.’

‘I wish you’d told me that earlier. We could have just as easily stayed home, especially once Flora and Jim went away.’

‘I wanted to show you Happy Island.’

‘The island itself, or your fancy holiday house?’

Nick smiled. ‘A man’s allowed to show off to his girlfriend, isn’t he?’

Sarah’s heart flipped over. ‘You…you called me your girlfriend.’

Nick shrugged. ‘I reserve the right to rescind the title if you get stroppy with me.’

‘I only get stroppy during cyclones. I also get hysterical.’

Nick laughed. ‘Now she tells me. Don’t worry. My place is cyclone-proof. Actually, Happy Island hasn’t been directly hit by a cyclone in decades. Mostly, it just gets lots of wind and rain. Unfortunately, we might have to stay indoors for days on end,’ he added with a wicked twinkle in his eyes.

Sarah grinned. ‘Just as well I brought all my old board games with me, then, isn’t it?’

Nick groaned. ‘Oh, no, not the Monopoly! You always whipped my butt at that.’

‘Monopoly and Snakes and Ladders, and Chinese Checkers. I found them in the bottom of my wardrobe when I was packing.’

When Nick looked pained, she gave him a playful dig in the ribs.

‘Come on. We used to have great fun playing those games.’

‘I had some different kinds of games in mind now that you’ve grown up.’

Sarah shook her head at him. ‘If you think this holiday is going to be just a sex-fest, Nick, then think again. I picked up a brochure about Happy Island from a local travel agent and there’s heaps I want to do.’

‘Really. Such as?’

‘Aside from a tour around the island to all the scenic spots, I’d like to take a boat trip to the barrier reef and a helicopter ride over the Whitsundays. Then there’s windsurfing and souvenir-shopping. Oh, and mini-golf. You can have your revenge on me with that. I also saw pictures of a lovely white beach with the most beautiful turquoise waters where I’d like to go for a swim.’

‘Uh-uh,’ he said with a shake of his head. ‘You won’t be doing that.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because of the irukanji.’

‘The what?’

‘They’re a jellyfish. Toxic as all hell. They can put you in hospital for days. Two people have died from their sting since 2001. Summer is their peak season.’

‘Oh, great. No swimming.’

‘Actually, you can go in the sea, if you wear a full body suit. But they don’t look too glamorous. Still, not to worry. There are more swimming pools on Happy Island than you can poke a stick at. Mine is fabulous, and solar-heated as well.’

‘I didn’t doubt it.’

His smile carried amusement. ‘You have a tongue on you at times, don’t you?’

‘I never said I was perfect.’

‘Just nearly,’ he murmured, and leant over to kiss her on the cheek.

Her head turned fully to face him. ‘I thought you said you weren’t going to kiss me.’

‘You call that a kiss? I’ll show you a kiss when I get you to my place.’

A quiver ran through her body at the desire gleaming bright in his eyes. This was what she’d always wanted, to have him look at her like this. But would it be enough, just being the recipient of Nick’s passion? The truth was she wanted more now. She wanted that happily-ever-after ending. She wanted Nick’s love, the very thing he claimed he could never give anyone.

‘You can relax your hands now,’ he said. ‘We’re through the turbulence.’

Not so, she thought with a tormented twist to her heart. The turbulence has only just begun.