Читать книгу The Australian Affairs Collection - Margaret Way - Страница 39
ОглавлениеMIA WAITED WITH a growing sense of dread for Dylan’s face to close and for him to turn away.
His open-mouthed shock rang through her like a blow, but his face didn’t close. He didn’t turn away.
His frown did deepen, though, and she could read the thoughts racing behind the vivid blue of his eyes.
‘No,’ she said, holding his gaze. ‘I wasn’t wrongfully convicted, there were no mitigating circumstances.’ She swallowed. ‘Unless you want to count the fact that I was young and stupid.’
And utterly in thrall to Johnnie Peters. So in love she’d have done anything he’d asked of her. So in love she had done anything he’d asked of her.
‘You’re not going to tell me any more than that?’
Curiosity sharpened his gaze, but it wasn’t the kind of avid, voyeuristic curiosity that made her want to crawl under a rock. It held a warmth and sympathy that almost undid her.
Swallowing again, she shook her head. ‘It’s sordid and unpleasant and it’s in the past. According to the justice system, I’ve paid my debt to society. I won’t ever steal again. I’ll never break the law again. But I understand that in light of these circumstances my word isn’t worth much. I’ll completely understand if you’d prefer to deal with Nora rather than with me.’
He didn’t say anything.
‘You don’t need to worry about my job. You’ve done enough to ensure I won’t be fired...at least, not this week.’ She’d aimed for levity, but it fell flat.
He lifted his chin. ‘I meant what I said—come and work for me.’
She realised now what she’d known on a subconscious level after only ten minutes in his company—Dylan Fairweather was a good man.
‘I appreciate the offer, I really do, but besides the fact that you don’t know me—’
‘I know you have a good work ethic. If the way you’ve treated Carla is anything to go by, where clients are concerned nothing is too much trouble for you. They’re valuable assets in an employee.’
‘According to Gordon I have a problem with authority.’
He grinned, and leaned in so close she could smell the nutmeg warmth of his skin. ‘That’s something we have in common, then.’
How was it possible for him to make her laugh when they were having such a serious conversation? She sobered, recalling her earlier impulsive, I think I just fell a little bit in love with you. She should never have said it. Instinct warned her that Dylan could wreak havoc on her heart if she let him.
She couldn’t let him. She wasn’t giving any man that kind of power over her again.
She pulled in a breath. ‘I was fortunate to be awarded this traineeship. The opportunity was given to me in good faith and I feel honour-bound to make the most of it.’
‘Admirable.’
It wasn’t admirable at all. She needed a job—a way to earn a living. For the two-year tenure of her traineeship she’d be in paid employment. Maybe at the end of that time she’d have proved herself worthy and someone would take a chance on employing her. She needed a way to support herself. After what she’d done she couldn’t ask the welfare system to support her.
‘Do you have a passion for conservation?’
‘Conservation is an important issue.’
‘That’s not the same thing,’ he pointed out.
Passion was dangerous. She’d done all she could to excise it from her life. Besides, busying herself with weed extermination programmes, soil erosion projects, and koala breeding strategies—plants, dirt and animals—meant she had minimal contact with people.
And as far as she was concerned that was a very good thing.
‘Here.’ He pulled a chocolate bar from his pocket. ‘This is the real reason I came back to the office.’
Frowning, she took it, careful not to touch him as she did so.
‘You said chocolate belonged in a class of its own and...’
He shrugged, looking a little bit embarrassed, and something inside her started to melt.
No melting!
‘I wanted to thank you for your patience with both Carla and me today.’
‘It’s—’
‘I know—it’s your job, Mia.’
Dear Lord, the way he said her name...
‘But good work should always be acknowledged. And...’ An irrepressible smile gathered at the corner of his mouth. ‘I fear more of the same will be asked of you tomorrow.’
It took a moment for his words to sink in. ‘You mean...?’
‘I mean we want you, Mia. Not Nora. I want everything associated with this wedding to be a joy for Carla. She likes you. And that’s rarer than you might think.’ He suddenly frowned. ‘How much will taking charge of this affect your traineeship? Will I be creating a problem for you there?’
He was giving her an out. If she wanted one. If...
She pulled in a breath. ‘The wedding is nine months away, right?’
He nodded.
Being Carla’s liaison wouldn’t be a full-time job. Very slowly she nodded too. ‘That leaves me plenty of time to continue with my fieldwork and studies.’
If it weren’t for Dylan she wouldn’t have a job right now or a chance to finish her traineeship. She owed him. Big-time. She made a resolution then and there to do all she could to make Carla’s wedding a spectacular success.
Her gaze rested on the chocolate bar he’d handed to her earlier. She suddenly realised how she could tacitly thank him right now. Without giving herself time to think, she ripped off the wrapper and bit into it.
‘I’m ravenous. And this is so good.’
As she’d known he would, he grinned in delight that his gift had given her pleasure. She closed her eyes to savour the soft milky creaminess, and when she opened them again she found his gaze fastened on her lips, the blue of his eyes deepening and darkening, and her stomach pitched.
She set the chocolate to the table and wiped damp palms down her trousers. ‘I... This is probably a stupid thing to raise...’
He folded his arms. ‘Out with it.’
‘I don’t believe you have any interest in me beyond that of any employer, but after what Gordon just accused me of...’
She couldn’t meet his eyes. The thing was, Gordon had recognised what she’d so desperately wanted to keep hidden—that she found Dylan attractive. Very attractive. He’d woken something inside her that she desperately wanted to put back to sleep.
‘I just want to make it clear that I’m not in the market for a relationship. Any kind of relationship—hot and heavy or fun and flirty.’
She read derision in his eyes. But before she could dissolve into a puddle of embarrassment at his feet she realised the derision was aimed at himself—not at her.
‘No relationships? Noted.’ He rolled his shoulders. ‘Mia, I have a tendency to flirt—it’s a result of the circles I move in—but it doesn’t mean anything. It’s just supposed to be a bit of harmless fun. My clients like to feel important and, as they are important to me, I like to make them feel valued. I plan celebrations, parties, and it’s my job to make the entire process as enjoyable as possible. So charm and a sense of fun have become second nature to me. If I’ve given you the wrong impression...’
‘Oh, no, you haven’t!’
‘For what it’s worth, I’m not in the market for a relationship at the moment either.’
She glanced up.
Why not?
That’s no concern of yours.
Humour flitted through his eyes. ‘But what about friendship? Do you have anything against that?’
That made her smile. People like Dylan didn’t become friends with people like her. Once the wedding was over she’d never see him again.
‘I have nothing whatsoever against friendship.’ She’d sworn never again to steal or cheat. A little white lie, though, didn’t count. Did it...?
* * *
Thierry Geroux, Carla’s fiancé, was as dark and scowling as Carla and Dylan were golden and gregarious. Mia couldn’t help but wonder what on earth Carla saw in him.
She pushed that thought away. It was none of her business.
As if he sensed the direction of her thoughts, Thierry turned his scowl on her. She wanted to tell him not to bother—that his scowls didn’t frighten her...she’d been scowled at by professionals. She didn’t, of course. She just sent him one of the bland smiles she’d become so adept at.
‘Do you have any questions, Mr Geroux?’ He’d barely spoken two words in the last hour.
‘No.’
‘None?’ Dylan double-checked, a frown creasing his brow.
‘Stop bouncing,’ Thierry said in irritation to Carla, who clung to his arm, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.
‘But, Thierry, it’s so exciting!’
Nevertheless she stopped bouncing.
Thierry turned to Dylan. ‘Carla is to have the wedding she wants. As you’re the events expert, I’m sure you have that under control.’
He ignored Mia completely. Which suited Mia just fine.
Dylan turned back to Mia. ‘There could be quite a gap between the end of the wedding ceremony and the start of the reception, while Carla and Thierry have photographs taken.’
Mia nodded. ‘It;s often the case. With it being late spring there’ll still be plenty of light left. I can organise a tour of the wildlife exhibits for those who are interested.’
‘Oh!’ Carla jumped up and down. ‘Could we do that now?’
‘Absolutely.’
The exhibits—a system of aviaries and enclosures—were sympathetically set into the natural landscape. A wooden walkway meandered through the arrangement at mid-tree height. This meant visitors could view many of the birds at eye level, practically commune with the rock wallabies sunning themselves on their craggy hillside, and look down on the wombats, echidnas and goannas in their pens.
At the heart of the wildlife walk—and the jewel in its crown—was the koala house. Set up like an enormous tree house, the wooden structure was covered on three sides to weatherproof it for visitors, with an arena opening out below full of native flora and an artfully designed pond.
The entire complex was enclosed in a huge aviary. A visitor could glance up into the trees to view the variety of colourful parrots, or along the rafters of the tree house to see the napping tawny frogmouths. Below were a myriad of walking birds, along with the occasional wallaby and echidna. But at eye-level were the koalas on their specially designed poles, where fresh eucalyptus leaves were placed daily. No wire or special glass separated man from beast—only a wooden railing and a ten-foot drop into the enclosure below.
‘I love this place,’ Carla breathed as they entered.
‘This is really something,’ Dylan murmured in Mia’s ear.
His breath fanned the hair at her temples and awareness skidded up her spine. ‘It’s a special place,’ she agreed, moving away—needing to put some distance between them.
When they’d looked their fill, she led them back outside to a series of small nocturnal houses—the first of which was the snake house.
Carla gave a shudder. ‘No matter how much I try, I don’t like snakes.’
They didn’t bother Mia, but she nodded. ‘We don’t have to linger. We can move straight on to the amphibian house and then the possum house.’
‘C’mon, Thierry.’
Carla tugged on his arm, evidently eager to leave, but he disengaged her hand. ‘You go ahead. I find snakes fascinating.’
Finally the man showed some interest—hallelujah!
Thierry glanced at her. ‘Mia might be kind enough to stay behind with me and answer some questions?’
The snakes might not bother her, but Mia loathed the caged darkness of the nocturnal houses, hating the way they made her feel trapped. She didn’t betray any of that by so much of a flicker of her eyelids, though.
‘I’d be happy to answer any questions.’
Dylan caught her eye and gestured that he and Carla would move on, and she nodded to let him know that she and Thierry would catch up.
She moved to stand beside Thierry, nodding at the slender green snake with the bright yellow throat that he currently surveyed. ‘That’s a tree snake. It’s—’
‘I can read.’
She sucked in a breath. Was he being deliberately rude? She lifted her chin. He might be hard work, but she was used to hard work.
‘They’re very common,’ she continued, ‘but rarely seen as they’re so shy. They seldom bite. Their main form of defence is to give off a rather dreadful odour when threatened.’
Mia was convinced there was a metaphor for life trapped in there somewhere.
‘You give off a bad smell too.’
Thierry moved so quickly that before she knew what he was doing he had her trapped between the wall and a glass display unit—the olive python on the other side didn’t stir.
‘Dylan told us about your background—that you’re nothing but a common little thief with a criminal record.’
The sudden sense of confinement had her heart leaping into her throat before surging back into her chest to thump off the walls of her ribs.
‘When I was in jail—’ with a supreme effort she kept her voice utterly devoid of emotion ‘—I learned a lot about self-defence and how to hurt someone. If you don’t take two steps back within the next three seconds you’re going to find yourself on your back in a screaming mess of pain.’
He waited the full three seconds, but he did move away. Mia tried to stop her shoulders from sagging as she dragged a grateful breath into her lungs.
He stabbed a finger at her. ‘I don’t like you.’
And that should matter to me because...? She bit the words back. She’d had a lot of practice at swallowing sarcastic rejoinders. She’d made it a policy long ago not to inflame a situation if she could help it.
‘Carla and Dylan are too trusting by half—but you won’t find me so gullible.’
Giving a person the benefit of the doubt did not make Dylan gullible.
‘You’re not a fit person for Carla to know. You stay away from her, you hear? If you don’t I’ll cause trouble for you...and that’s a promise.’
‘Is everything okay here?’
A strip of sunlight slashed through the darkness as Dylan came back through the doors. The doors were merely thick flaps of overlapping black rubber that kept the sun out. A few threads of light backlit him, haloing his head and shading his face. Mia didn’t need to see his face to sense the tension rippling through him.
Without another word Thierry snapped away and moved through the rubber panels, his footsteps loud on the wooden walkway as he strode off.
‘Are you okay?’
Dylan’s concern, absurdly, made her want to cry in a way that Thierry’s threats hadn’t.
‘Yes, of course.’ She turned and gestured to the snakes. ‘Just so you know: a reptile encounter can be arranged for the wedding guests too, if anyone’s interested. Though it has to be said it’s not to everyone’s taste.’
* * *
Dylan took Mia’s arm and led her back out into the sunshine, wincing at her pallor.
Her colour started to return after a few deep breaths and he found the rapid beat of his heart slowed in direct proportion.
‘I heard the last part of what Thierry said to you.’
He hadn’t liked the way Thierry had asked Mia to stay behind. It was why he’d doubled back—to make sure everything was okay.
‘It’s not the first time someone has taken exception to my past, Dylan, and I expect it won’t be the last.’
Her revelation yesterday had shocked him—prison!—but he’d have had to be blind not to see how much she regretted that part of her life. He’d sensed her sincerity in wanting to create a new, honest life for herself. She’d paid dearly for whatever mistakes lay in her past. As far as he was concerned she should be allowed to get on with things in peace.
Thierry’s threat, the utter contempt in his voice...
Dylan’s hands clenched. It had been a long time since he’d wanted to knock someone to the ground. He’d wanted to deck Thierry, though. He’d wanted to beat the man black and blue.
He dragged a hand down his face. It had only been the thought of who’d pay for his actions—Mia—that had stopped him.
You didn’t even think of Carla!
Mia stared up at him, her gaze steady. ‘Don’t blame Thierry. He only has Carla’s welfare in mind.’
‘It doesn’t excuse his behaviour.’ A scowl scuffed through him. ‘The man’s a bully and a jerk. What the hell does Carla see in him?’
She gestured that they should continue along the path towards the amphibian house. ‘Don’t you know?’
He didn’t have a single clue.
‘Haven’t the two of you talked about him?’
Not really. But to say as much would only reveal what a poor excuse for a brother he’d been to Carla these last twelve months.
He glanced across at Mia and found that she’d paled again, but before he could ask her if she was okay she’d plunged into the darkness of the amphibian house. Was she worried about running into Thierry again?
He plunged right in after her.
‘Do you want to linger?’
He couldn’t have said how he knew, but he sensed the tension coiling through her. ‘No.’
She led them back outside and gulped in a couple of breaths. She stilled when she realised how closely he watched her.
He reached out to stop her from moving on. ‘What’s wrong?’
She glanced away. ‘What makes you think anything’s wrong?’
When she turned back, he just shrugged.
Her shoulders sagged. ‘I’d rather nobody else knew this.’
Silently, he crossed his heart.
She looked away again. ‘I don’t like the nocturnal houses. They make me feel claustrophobic and closed in.
They were like being in jail!
He had to stiffen his legs to stop himself from pitching over.
‘I’m fine out here on the walkways, where we’re above or beside the enclosures and aviaries, but the nocturnal houses are necessarily dark...and warm. The air feels too close.’
She finished with a deprecating little shrug that broke his heart a little bit.
In the next moment he was gripped with an avid need to know everything about her—were her parents still alive? How had they treated her when she was a child? What made her happy? What did she really want from life? What frightened her right down to her bones? What did she do in her spare time? What made her purr?
That last thought snapped him back. He had no right to ask such questions. He shouldn’t even be considering them. What he should be doing was working out if Carla was about to make the biggest mistake of her life. That was what he should be focussed on.
‘What about when you’re down below?’ he found himself asking anyway. ‘When you have to go into the cages to clean them out...to feed the animals?’
He saw the answer in her eyes before she drew that damn veil down over them again.
‘It’s okay. It’s just another part of the job.’
Liar. He didn’t call her on it. It was none of his business. But it begged the question—why was Mia working in a place like this when enclosed spaces all but made her hyperventilate?
They found Carla and Thierry waiting for them beside the kangaroo enclosure.
The moment she saw Mia, Carla grabbed her arm. ‘I want to become a volunteer!’
Mia smiled as if she couldn’t help it ‘Volunteers are always welcome at Plum Pines.’
Her tone held no awkwardness and Dylan’s shoulders unhitched a couple of notches. Thierry’s strictures hadn’t constrained the warmth she showed to Carla, and he gave silent thanks for it.
Thierry pulled Mia back to his side, gently but inexorably. ‘Stop manhandling the staff, Carla.’
Dylan lifted himself up to his full height. ‘That’s an insufferably snobbish thing to say, Thierry.’
Carla’s face fell and he immediately regretted uttering the words within her earshot.
Thierry glared back at him. ‘You might be happy consorting with criminals, Dylan, but you’ll have to excuse me for being less enthused.’
‘Ex.’ Mia’s voice cut through the tension, forcing all eyes to turn to her. ‘I’m an ex-criminal, Mr Geroux. Naturally, I don’t expect you to trust me, but you can rest assured that if my employers have no qualms about either my conduct or my ability to perform the tasks required of me, then you need have no worries on that head either.’
‘We don’t have qualms!’ Carla jumped in, staring at Thierry as if a simple glare would force him to agree with her.
Thierry merely shrugged. ‘Is volunteering such a good idea? You could catch something...get bitten...and didn’t you notice the frightful stench coming from the possums?’
‘Oh, I hadn’t thought about the practicalities...’
She glanced at Mia uncertainly and Dylan wanted to throw his head back and howl.
‘You’d need to be up to date with your tetanus shots. All the information is on the Plum Pines website, and I can give you some brochures if you like. You can think about it for a bit, and call the volunteer co-ordinator if you have any questions.’
Thierry scowled at her, but she met his gaze calmly. ‘Maybe it’s something the two of you could do together.’
Carla clapped her hands, evidently delighted with the idea.
Thierry glanced at his watch with an abrupt, ‘We have to go.’ He said goodbye to Dylan, ignoring Mia completely, before leading Carla away.
‘An absolute charmer,’ Dylan muttered under his breath.
Mia had to have heard him, but she didn’t say anything, turning instead to a kangaroo waiting on the other side of the fence and feeding it some titbit she’d fished from her pocket. He glanced back at Carla and a sickening cramp stretched through his stomach—along with a growing sense of foreboding.
Mia nudged him, and then held out a handful of what looked like puffed wheat. ‘Would you like to feed the kangaroo?’
With a sense of wonder, he took it and fed the kangaroo. He even managed to run his fingers through the fur of the kangaroo’s neck. The tightness in him eased.
‘Do you have anything pressing you need to attend to in the next couple of hours?’
She shook her head. ‘Nora has instructed me to give you all the time and assistance you need. Later this afternoon, if I’m free, she’s going to run through some things that I probably need to know—help me create a checklist.’
‘Will you meet me at the lily pond in fifteen minutes?’
She blinked, but nodded without hesitation. ‘Yes, of course.’
* * *
Mia was sitting at the picnic table waiting for him—her notepad at the ready—when he arrived with his bag of goodies.
If he hadn’t been so worried about Carla’s situation he’d have laughed at the look on her face when he pulled forth sandwiches, chocolate bars and sodas.
‘This is a working lunch, Mia, not some dastardly plot to seduce you.’
Pink flushed her cheeks. ‘I never considered anything else for a moment.’
To be fair, she probably hadn’t. She’d made it clear where she stood yesterday. When he’d gone back over her words it had struck him that she really hadn’t thought him interested in her. She’d just been setting boundaries. And if that boundary-setting hadn’t been for his benefit, then it had to have been for hers. Which was interesting.
He took the seat beside her rather than the one opposite.
Why was Mia so determined to remain aloof?
He didn’t want her aloof.
He wanted her help.
He took her notepad and pen and put them in his pocket. ‘You won’t need those.’ He pushed the stack of sandwiches, a can of soda and a couple of chocolate bars towards her. ‘Eat up while I talk.’
She fixed him with those moss-green eyes, but after a moment gave a shrug and reached for the topmost sandwich. She didn’t even check to see what it was.
He gestured to the stack. ‘I didn’t know what you’d like so I got a variety.’ He’d grabbed enough to feed a small army, but he’d wanted to make sure he bought something she liked.
She shrugged again. ‘I’m not fussy. I’ll eat pretty much anything.’
He had a sudden vision of her in prison, eating prison food, and promptly lost his appetite.’
‘Dylan?’
He snapped his attention back. ‘Sorry, I’m a bit distracted.’
She bit into her sandwich and chewed, simply waiting for him to speak. It occurred to him that if he wanted her help he was going to have to be honest with her.
A weight pressed down on him. Yesterday afternoon she’d looked at him with such gratitude and admiration—as if he were a superhero. Nobody had ever looked at him like that. He didn’t want to lose it so quickly.
Not even for Carla’s sake?
He straightened. He’d do anything for Carla.
He opened his can of soft drink and took a long swallow before setting it back down. ‘I’m ashamed to admit this, but over the last twelve months I’ve neglected Carla shamefully. She and Thierry have only been dating six months, and the news of their engagement came as a shock. This will probably sound ridiculously big brotherly, but... I’m worried she’s making a mistake.’
Mia stared at him for a moment. ‘You and Carla seem very close.’
‘We are.’
‘So why haven’t you spent much time together recently?’
How much of the truth did he have to tell her?
He scrubbed a hand through his hair. ‘There’s an older family member who I have...difficulties with. It’s impossible to avoid him when I’m in Australia, and I’ve wanted to avoid a falling out, so...’
‘So you’ve spent a lot of time overseas instead?’
‘Rather than putting up with said family member, I flitted off to organise parties. There was a Turkish sultan’s sixtieth birthday party, and then a twenty-fifth wedding anniversary celebration for a couple of members of the British aristocracy. I did some corporate work on the Italian Grand Prix. Oh, and there was a red carpet film premiere that I did just for fun.’
She blinked, as if he’d just spoken in a foreign language. In some ways he supposed he had.
‘So there you have it—I’m a coward.’
He lifted his arms and let them drop, waiting for her eyes to darken with scorn. She just stared back at him and waited for him to continue, her gaze not wavering.
He swallowed. ‘I came home for Carla’s birthday...and for two days over Christmas.’ It hadn’t been enough! ‘That’s when she announced her engagement. That’s when I realised I’d spent too long away.’
But Carla had finally seemed so settled...so happy. She’d refused to come and work for FWE, preferring to focus on her charity work. Nothing had rung alarm bells for him...until he’d met Thierry.
Mia didn’t say anything, but he could tell from her eyes how intently she listened.
‘When I heard what he said to you in the reptile house I wanted to knock him to the ground.’
She halted mid-chew, before swallowing. ‘I’m very glad you didn’t.’
It had only been the thought that Gordon would somehow bring the blame back to her and she’d lose her job that had stilled his hand.
‘What he said to you...’ His hand clenched and unclenched convulsively around his can of drink. ‘I’m sorry you were put into a position where you were forced to listen to that.’
‘It’s not your responsibility to apologise on behalf of other people, Dylan.’
Maybe not, but it felt like his fault. If he’d taken the time to get to know Thierry better before now...
She reached out and placed a sandwich in front of him. ‘And you need to remember that just because he dislikes me, and my background, it doesn’t necessarily make him a bad person.’
Dylan was far from sure about that.
‘Even if I didn’t have a criminal record, there’s no law that says Thierry has to like me.’
‘Mia, it’s not the fact that he doesn’t like you or even that he was rude to you that worries me. What disturbs me is the fact that he threatened you.’
‘I can take care of myself.’
She said the words quietly and he didn’t doubt her. He wished she didn’t have to take care of herself. He wished she was surrounded by an army of people who’d take care of her. He sensed that wasn’t the case, and suddenly he wanted to buy her a hundred chocolate bars... But what good would that do?
No substance, Dylan Fairweather. You don’t have an ounce of substance.
The words roared through him. He pulled air in through his nose and let it out through his mouth—once, twice.
‘I have less confidence,’ he said finally, ‘in Carla’s ability to take care of herself.’ He met Mia’s dark-eyed gaze. ‘What if he talks to her the way he spoke to you? What if he threatens her in the same way he threatened you?’
