Читать книгу The Australian Affairs Collection - Margaret Way - Страница 40
ОглавлениеDYLAN COULDN’T KNOW it, but each word raised a welt on Mia’s soul. The thought of a woman as lovely as Carla, as open and kind as she was, being controlled and manipulated, possibly even abused, by a man claiming to love her...
It made her stomach burn acid.
It made her want to run away at a hundred miles an hour in the other direction.
She recalled how Thierry had trapped her against the wall in the reptile house and her temples started to throb.
She set her sandwich down before she mangled it. ‘Have you seen anything to give you cause for concern before now?’
Those laughing lips of his, his shoulders, and even the laughter lines fanning out from his eyes—all drooped. Her heart burned for him. She wanted to reach out and cover his hand, to offer him whatever comfort she could.
Don’t be an idiot.
Dylan might be all golden flirtatious charm, but it didn’t mean he’d want someone like her touching him. She chafed her left forearm, digging her fingers into the muscle to try and loosen the tension that coiled her tight. She wasn’t qualified to offer advice about family or relationships, but even she could see what he needed to do.
‘Can’t...?’ She swallowed to counter a suddenly dry throat. ‘Can’t you talk to Carla and share your concerns?’
‘And say what? Carla, I think the man you’re about to marry is a complete and utter jerk?’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘She’d translate that as me forcing her to choose between her brother and her fiancé.’
From the look on his face, it was evident he didn’t think she’d choose him. She thought back to the way Carla had clung to Thierry’s arm and realised Dylan might have a point.
‘How about something a little less confrontational?’ She reached for a can of soda, needing something to do with her hands. ‘Something like... Carla, Thierry strikes me as a bit moody. Are you sure he treats you well?’
He gave a frustrated shake of his head. ‘She’d still read it as me criticising her choice. I’d have to go to great lengths to make it as clear as possible that I’m not making her choose between me and Thierry, but the fact of the matter is—regardless of what I discover—I have no power to stop this wedding unless it’s what Carla wants. And if she does marry him and he is cruel to her... I want her to feel she’s able to turn to me without feeling constrained because I warned her off him.’
His logic made sense, in a roundabout way, but it still left her feeling uneasy. ‘You know, you don’t have a lot to go on, here. One incident isn’t necessarily indicative of the man. Perhaps you need to make a concerted effort to get to know him better.’
‘I mean to. I’m already on it.’ Her surprise must have shown, because he added. ‘It doesn’t take fifteen minutes to buy a few sandwiches, Mia. I made a couple of phone calls before meeting you here.’
She frowned, not really knowing what that meant. ‘Did you find out anything?’
‘Not yet.’
And then she realised exactly what he’d done. ‘You hired a private investigator?’
‘Yep.’
‘Don’t you think that’s a little extreme?’
‘Not when my sister’s happiness and perhaps her physical well-being is at stake.’
She recalled Thierry’s latent physical threat to her and thought Dylan might have a point. Still...
‘I want to ask for your assistance, Mia.’
‘Mine?’ she squeaked. What on earth did he think she could do?
‘I want you to befriend Carla. She might confide in you—especially as Thierry has made it clear that he doesn’t like you.’
Had he gone mad? ‘Dylan, I can be as friendly towards Carla as it’s possible to be.’ She’d already resolved to do so. ‘But when we get right down to it I’m just one of the many people helping to organise her wedding. We don’t exactly move in the same social circles.’
‘I’ve thought about that too. And I’ve come up with a solution.’
She had a premonition that she wasn’t going to like what came next.
He leaned towards her. ‘If Carla thought that we were dating—’
‘No!’ She shot so far away from him she was in danger of falling off the bench.
He continued to survey her, seeming not put off in the least by her vehemence. He unwrapped a chocolate bar and bit into it. ‘Why not?’
She wanted to tell him to eat a sandwich first—put something proper into his stomach—but it wasn’t her place...and it was utterly beside the point.
‘Because I don’t date!’
‘It wouldn’t be real dating,’ he said patiently. ‘It’d be pretend dating.’
She slapped a hand to her chest. ‘I work hard to keep a low profile. I don’t need my past coming back and biting me more often than it already does. I have a plan for my life, Dylan—to finish my field officer training and find work in a national park. Somewhere rural—’ remote ‘—and quiet, where I can train towards becoming a ranger. All I want is a quiet life so I can live peacefully and stay out of trouble. Dating you won’t help me achieve that. You live your life up among the stars. You’re high-profile.’ She pointed to herself. ‘Low-profile. Can you see how that’s not going to work?’
He tapped a finger against his mouth. ‘It’s a valid point.’
He leaned towards her, his lips pressed into a firm, persuasive line. It took an effort not to let her attention become distracted by those lips.
‘What if I promise to keep your name out of the papers?’
‘How? Australia’s golden-boy bachelor slumming it with an ex-jailbird? That story’s too juicy to keep under wraps.’
Heaven only knew what Gordon Coulter would do with a headline like that.
‘I’ve learned over the years how to be very discreet. I swear to you that nobody will suspect a thing.’
‘Will Thierry be discreet too?’ she asked, unable to hide the scorn threading her voice as she recalled his threat to make trouble for her.
‘You leave Thierry to me.’
With pleasure.
Dylan pushed his shoulders back, a steely light gleaming in his eyes, and she had to swallow. The golden charmer had gone—had been replaced by someone bigger, harder...and far more intimidating. Beneath his laughing, charismatic allure, she sensed that Dylan had a warrior’s heart.
His nostrils flared. ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t touch you.’
She couldn’t have said why, but she believed him—implicitly. Her heart started to thud too hard, too fast. ‘Dylan, surely you’d be better off concocting this kind of scheme with one of Carla’s friends? They’d—’
‘She doesn’t have any. Not close. Not any more.’
Why ever not?
His face turned to stone, but his eyes flashed fire. ‘Two years ago Carla’s boyfriend ran off with her best friend.’
Mia closed her eyes.
‘Carla went into a deep depression and pushed all her friends away. She’s never been the sort of person to have a lot of close friends—a large social circle, perhaps, but only one or two people she’d consider close—and...’
‘And it was all a mess after such a betrayal,’ she finished for him, reading it in his face and wanting to spare him the necessity of having to say it out loud. ‘Loyalties were divided and some fences never mended.’
He nodded.
She leapt up, needing to work off the agitation coursing through her. ‘Dylan, I...’
‘What?’
She swung back to him. ‘I don’t know how we can pull off something like that—pretending to date—convincingly.’
She sat again, feeling like a goose for striding around and revealing her agitation. When she glanced across at him the expression in his eyes made her stomach flip-flop. In one smooth motion he slid across until they were almost touching. He smelt fresh and clean, like sun-warmed cotton sheets, and her every sense went on high alert.
He touched the backs of his fingers to her cheek and she sucked in a breath, shocked at her need to lean into the contact. Oh, this was madness!
‘Dylan, I—’
His thumb pressed against her mouth, halting her words. Then he traced the line of her bottom lip and a pulse thumped to life inside her. She couldn’t stop her lip from softening beneath his touch, or her mouth from parting ever so slightly so she could draw the scent of him into her lungs.
‘I don’t think you realise how lovely you are.’
Somewhere nearby a peacock honked. Something splashed in the lily pond. But all Mia could focus on was the man in front of her, staring down at her as if...as if she were a cream bun he’d like to devour...slowly and deliciously.
It shocked her to realise that in that moment she wanted nothing more than to be a cream bun.
Dangerous.
The word whispered through her. Some part of her mind registered it, but she was utterly incapable of moving away and breaking the spell Dylan had woven around them.
‘Sweet and lovely Mia.’
The low, warm promise in his voice made her breath catch.
‘I think we’re going to have exactly the opposite problem. I think if we’re not careful we could be in danger of being too convincing...we could be in danger of convincing ourselves that a lie should become the truth.’
A fire fanned through her. Yesterday, when he’d flirted with her, hadn’t it just been out of habit? Had he meant it? He found her attractive?
‘Dylan...’ His name whispered from her. She didn’t mean it to.
His eyes darkened at whatever he saw in her face. ‘I dreamed of you last night.’
Dangerous.
The word whispered through her again.
But it didn’t feel dangerous. It felt right to be whispering secrets to each other.
His thumb swept along the fullness of her bottom lip again, pulling against it to explore the damp moistness inside, sensitising it almost beyond bearing. Unable to help herself, she flicked out her tongue to taste him.
‘Mia...’ He groaned out her name as if it came from some deep, hidden place.
His head moved towards her, his lips aiming to replace his thumb, and her soul suddenly soared.
Dangerous.
Dangerous and glorious. This man had mesmerised her from the moment she’d first laid eyes on him and—
Mesmerised...?
Dangerous!
With a half-sob Mia fisted her hands in his shirt, but didn’t have the strength to push him away. She dropped her chin, ensuring that his kiss landed on her brow instead of her lips.
She felt rather than heard him sigh.
After three hard beats of her heart she let him go. In another two he slid back along the bench away from her.
‘As I said, I don’t think being convincing will be a problem. However much you might deny it, something burns between us—something that could be so much more than a spark if we’d let it.’
It would be foolish to deny it now.
‘Why do you have a no-dating rule?’ he asked.
His words pulled her back. With an effort, she found her voice. ‘It keeps me out of trouble.’
He remained silent, as if waiting for more, but Mia refused to add anything else.
‘Maybe one day you’ll share your reasoning with me, but until then I fully mean to respect your rules, Mia.’
He did? She finally glanced up at him.
The faintest of smiles touched his lips. ‘And, unlike you, I’m more than happy to share my reasons. One—’ he held up a finger ‘—if I don’t respect your no-dating rule I suspect I have no hope of winning your co-operation where Carla’s concerned.’
Self-interest? At least that was honest.
He held up a second finger. ‘And, two, it seems to me you already have enough people in your life who don’t respect your wishes. I don’t mean to become one of their number.’
Despite her best efforts, some of the ice around her heart cracked.
He stared at her for a long moment, his mouth turning grim. ‘I fancied myself in love once, but when things got tough the girl in question couldn’t hack it. She left. Next time I fall in love it’ll be with a woman who can cope with the rough as well as the smooth.’
His nostrils flared, his eyes darkening, and Mia wondered if he’d gone back to that time when the girl in question had broken his heart. She wanted to reach out and touch his hand, pull him back to the present.
She dragged her hands into her lap. ‘I’m sorry, Dylan.’
He shook himself. ‘It’s true that I’m attracted to you, but you’ve just pointed out how very differently we want to live our lives—high-profile, low-profile. In the real world, that continual push and pull would make us miserable.’
Mia had to look away, but she nodded to let him know that she agreed. It didn’t stop her heart from shrivelling to the size of a gum nut.
‘Your no-dating rule obviously rules out a fling?’
‘It does.’ Anything else would be a disaster.
‘So these are our ground rules. With those firmly in place we shouldn’t have any misunderstandings or false hopes, right? We just need to remember the reasons why we’re not dating at the moment, why we’re not looking for a relationship, and that’ll keep us safe.’
She guessed so.
He drummed his fingers on the picnic table. ‘It occurs to me that I haven’t given you much incentive to help me out. I’m a selfish brute.’
His consideration for Carla proved that was a lie.
‘I’ve no intention of taking advantage of you. I’m fully prepared to pay you for your time.’
She flinched at his words, throwing an arm up to ward them off. ‘I don’t want your money, Dylan.’
What kind of person did he think she was?
A thief!
She dragged in a breath. ‘I went to jail for fraud. Do you think I’d accept money under dubious circumstances again?’
He swore at whatever he saw in her face. ‘I’m sorry—that was incredibly insensitive. I didn’t mean I thought you could be bought. I just meant it’s perfectly reasonable for you to be financially compensated for your time.’
‘No.’
‘It doesn’t have to be dubious. I’d have a contract drawn up so there wasn’t a hint of illegality about it.’
His earnestness made the earlier sting fade, but... ‘Tell that to the judge.’
He looked stricken for a moment—until he realised she was joking.
‘No money changes hands between us,’ she said.
He looked as if he wanted to keep arguing with her, but finally he nodded. ‘Okay.’
She let out a pent-up breath.
‘So, Mia, what I need to know is...what do you want? You help me. I help you.’
He’d already saved her job. She hated to admit it, but that made her beholden to him. She rubbed her forehead. Besides, if Carla was in danger of being controlled, dominated, bullied... She swallowed, remembering Johnnie Peters and all he’d convinced her to do. She remembered how she’d sold her soul to a man who’d used her for his own ends and then thrown her away. If Carla were in danger, this would be a way for Mia to start making amends—finding redemption—for the mistakes of the past.
The thought made her stomach churn. She didn’t want to do this.
What? You think redemption is easy? You think it’s supposed to be a picnic? It should be hard. You should suffer.
She brushed a hand across her eyes, utterly weary with herself.
‘What do you want, Mia.’
She wanted to keep her job. Yesterday she’d have trusted him with that piece of information. Today— She glanced across at him. Today she wasn’t convinced that he wouldn’t use it against her as a weapon to force her co-operation.
Who are you kidding? You already know you’re going to help him. No force necessary.
But it would be unwise of her to forget that beneath the smiling charm Dylan had a warrior’s heart. And warriors could be utterly ruthless.
She forced her mind off Dylan and to her own situation. He’d ensured her job was safe for the moment...and for the next nine months until Carla’s wedding took place. She’d have less than six months left on her traineeship then. Surely she could avoid Gordon’s notice in that time? Hopefully he’d be busy with council elections.
If Carla’s wedding takes place.
‘There has to be something you want,’ Dylan persisted, pushing a chocolate bar across to her.
What did she want? One thing came immediately to mind.
She picked up the bar of chocolate and twirled it around. ‘Carla’s wedding is going to be a big deal, right?’
‘A huge deal. If it goes ahead.’
She glanced at him. ‘If Thierry does turn out to be your worst nightmare, but Carla still insists on marrying him, will you still go ahead and give her the wedding she’s always dreamed of?’
A muscle worked in his jaw. ‘Yes.’
She couldn’t explain why, but that eased some of the tightness in her shoulders. She stared down at the chocolate bar. ‘So—considering this low profile of mine—when you and your people start distributing press releases and giving media interviews about the wedding, I’d like you to give the credit to Plum Pines and Nora and FWE without mentioning my name at all.’
His brows drew down over his eyes. ‘But that’s unfair! Credit should go where it’s due. Being associated with Carla’s wedding could open doors for you.’
Or it could bring her past and the scandal to the front pages of the gossip rags. ‘You asked me what I wanted. I’m simply telling you.’
He swung back to scowl at the lily pond. ‘I don’t like it. It goes against the grain. But if it’s what you really want, then consider it done.’
She closed her eyes. ‘Thank you.’
‘But now you have to tell me something else that you want, because I truly feel as if I’m taking utter advantage of you.’
She glanced up to find him glaring at her. For some reason his outrage made her want to smile.
‘What do I want?’ she shrugged. ‘I want to be out on the eastern boundary, helping with the weed eradication programme.’
* * *
Dylan stared at Mia and his heart thumped at the wistful expression that flitted across her face. He had a feeling that she didn’t have a whole lot of fun in her life. Not if weed extermination topped the list of her wants.
If she agreed to his fake dating plan he resolved to make sure she had fun too. It would be the least he could do. There might be a lot of things he wasn’t good at, but when it came to fun he was a grandmaster.
He rose. ‘Okay, let’s go and do that, then.’
‘We?’ She choked on her surprise.
He sat again, suddenly unsure. ‘You’d prefer to go on your own?’
‘Oh, it’s not that. I... It’s just...’
He could almost see the thoughts racing across her face. It’s hard work, dirty work, menial work. ‘You don’t think I’m up to it, do you?’
‘It’s not that either—although it is hard work.’ She leaned towards him, a frown in her eyes. ‘Dylan, you run a world-class entertainment company. I’m quite sure you have better things to do with your time. I expect you’re a very busy man.’
He shook his head. ‘I’m on leave.’ He’d taken it the moment Carla had announced her engagement. ‘I have capable staff.’
And he couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do at the moment than lighten Mia’s load.
Inspiration hit him. ‘Listen to this for a plan. If I become a volunteer here that might encourage Carla to become a volunteer too. If you get to work with her and build up a friendship then the fake dating stuff will be easier.’
Her frown cleared. ‘There might even be no need for fake dating stuff.’
Maybe. Maybe not. He couldn’t explain it, but the thought of fake dating Mia fired him to life in a way nothing else had in a long time. He’d relish the chance to find out what really make her tick.
‘We need a cover story.’ He rubbed his hands together. ‘I can tell Carla that you piqued my interest—hence the reason I became a volunteer—and then we worked together, discovered we liked each other...and things have gone on from there.’
She screwed up her nose. ‘I guess that could work...’
He grinned at her. ‘Of course it’ll work.’
She suddenly thrust out her jaw. ‘I’m not going to spy on Carla for you.’
‘I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to become her friend.’
‘If this works—if Carla decides she wants to be friends—then I mean to be a proper friend to her. And if that clashes with your agenda—’
He reached over and seized her hand, brought her wrist to his lips. Her eyes widened and her pulse jumped beneath his touch. A growing hunger roared through him. He wanted to put his tongue against that pulse point and kiss his way along her arm until he reached her mouth.
As if she’d read that thought in his face she reclaimed her hand. He forced himself to focus on the conversation, rather than her intriguing scent.
‘I’m asking nothing more than that you be Carla’s friend.’
The way her gaze darted away betrayed her assumed composure. ‘That’s okay, then. As long as we’re on the same page.’
‘The same page’ meant no fling, no relationship...no kissing. He had to keep things simple between them. There was too much at stake.
‘Definitely on the same page,’ he assured her.
Starting something with Mia was out of the question. She wouldn’t last the distance any more than Caitlin had. His whole way of life was anathema to her.
A fist reached inside his gut and squeezed. Caitlin had left him at the absolute lowest point in his life. The devastation of losing his parents and her had... It had almost annihilated him. The shock of it still rebounded in his soul. The only thing that had kept him going was Carla, and the knowledge that she’d needed him. He’d found his feet. Eventually. He wasn’t going to have them cut out from under him again by repeating the same mistakes.
He turned to find Mia halfway through a sentence.
‘... I mean, we can give you overalls, but that’s not going to really help, is it?’
She was worried he’d ruin his clothes? ‘I have my workout gear in the car.’
She folded her arms. ‘Along with a four-hundred-dollar pair of trainers, no doubt? I don’t want to be held responsible for wrecking those.’
He had no idea how much his trainers had cost. But she was probably right. ‘Couldn’t you rustle me up a pair of boots?’
She gave a reluctant shrug. ‘Maybe. Are you sure you want to do this?’
‘Absolutely.’
‘We’ll need to register you as a volunteer. There’ll be forms to fill out and signatures required to ensure you’re covered by the Plum Pines insurance.’
The more she tried to put him off, the more determined he became.
He rose with a decisive clap of his hands. ‘Then let’s get to it.’
She rose too, shaking her head. ‘Don’t say you weren’t warned.
* * *
‘What’s going on here?’ Gordon boomed, coming into the office just as Dylan emerged from the change room wearing the overalls and boots that Mia had found for him.
She sat nearby, already dressed for an afternoon of hard work.
She shot to her feet. ‘Dylan—’
‘Mr Fairweather,’ Gordon corrected with a pointed glare.
‘Dylan,’ Dylan confirmed, deciding it would be just as satisfying to punch Gordon on the end of his bulbous nose as it would Thierry. He glanced at Mia and wondered when he’d become so bloodthirsty. ‘I’ve decided to register as a volunteer.’ He shoved his shoulders back. ‘I want to see first-hand what my hundred-thousand-dollar donation will be subsidising.’
Gordon’s jowls worked for a moment. ‘It’s very generous of you to give both your money and your time to Plum Pines...’
Behind Gordon’s back, Mia gestured that they should leave. Dylan shrugged himself into full supercilious mode and deigned to nod in the other man’s direction.
‘Good afternoon, Gordon.’
‘Good afternoon, Mr Fairweather.’
Dylan didn’t invite Gordon to call him by his Christian name—just strode out through the door that Mia held open for him.
Behind him he heard Gordon mutter to the receptionist, ‘Bloody trust fund babies,’ before the door closed behind them.
Mia grinned as she strode along beside him. ‘I think he likes you.’
He glanced at her grin and then threw his head back and roared.
* * *
‘What on earth...?’
The moment Dylan rounded the side of their family home—affectionately dubbed ‘The Palace’—Carla shot to her feet. Behind her a vista of blue sea and blue sky stretched to the horizon. It was a view he never tired of.
‘Dylan, what on earth have you been doing? You’re so...dirty! Filthy dirty. Obscenely dirty.’
He grinned. ‘I signed up as a volunteer at Plum Pines. That was an inspired idea of yours, by the way. The place is amazing.’
She started to laugh, settling back into the plump cushions of the outdoor sofa. ‘I have a feeling it’s a certain Plum Pines employee rather than a newfound enthusiasm for conservation that has you truly inspired.’
He sobered. What on earth...? That was supposed to come as a surprise.
He managed a shrug. ‘I like her.’
‘I can tell.’
How could she tell?
She couldn’t tell!
Romance had addled Carla’s brain, that was all. She wanted everyone travelling on the same delirious cloud as she. It made her see romance where none existed. But he could work that to his advantage.
‘I’m not sure she likes me.’
‘And you think by becoming a volunteer it’ll make her look upon you with a friendlier eye?’
‘Along with my newfound enthusiasm for weed eradication.’
Carla laughed—a delightful sound that gladdened his heart. There’d been a time when he’d wondered if he’d ever hear her laugh again.
‘She won’t take any of your nonsense, you know.’
He eyed his sister carefully. ‘Would it bug you if I asked her out?’
‘Not at all.’ She studied her fingernails. ‘If you’ll promise me one thing.’
‘Name it.’
‘That you won’t judge Thierry too harshly based on today’s events. He wasn’t at his best. He’s very different from us, Dylan, but I love him.’ She turned a pleading gaze on him. ‘Please?’
He bit back a sigh. ‘Okay.’
‘Thank you!’
He widened his stance. ‘But I want to get to know him better before you two tie the knot.’
‘That can be arranged.’ Her smile widened. ‘We can double date!’
Perfect.
‘Perhaps,’ he said, not wanting to appear too eager to share Mia with anyone else. ‘Are you going to let him talk you out of volunteering?’
‘Not a chance.’ She laughed. ‘I’m signing up first thing tomorrow.’
