Читать книгу The Australian Affairs Collection - Margaret Way - Страница 45

CHAPTER NINE

‘WITH US COMING in under-budget and all...’ Mia’s mouth started to dry. ‘Well, I was thinking...how about I buy you dinner as a thank-you?’

Dylan swung to her, his eyes alert and watchful...hopeful.

‘As a friend,’ she added. She didn’t want him getting the wrong impression.

‘When?’

She strove for a shrug. ‘This evening, if you’re free.’

‘I’m free.’ He glanced down at himself. He wore a pair of cargo shorts and a button-down cotton shirt. So did she. ‘Can we go somewhere casual?’

‘Casual sounds good.’ Casual sounded perfect!

‘I know—gorgeous evening...end of summer and all that... There’s this great pizza place down near the beach. It does takeaway.’

His face lit up and all she could do was stare. When—how?—had he learned to milk enjoyment from every moment?

‘When was the last time you had pizza on the beach?’

‘I... Never.’

‘C’mon, then.’ He took her hand and led her to the front door. ‘That’s an oversight that should be corrected immediately.’

* * *

‘See? Didn’t I tell you this was an inspired idea?’ Dylan claimed a patch of pristine white sand and grinned at her.

Mia bit back a laugh and spread out a towel so he could place the pizza boxes onto it. ‘I’ll reserve judgement until I’ve tried the pizza.’ She dropped two bottles of water to the towel too, and then turned to survey the view spread out in front of them.

They had another half an hour of light—possibly longer. The water reflected the last of the sun’s brilliance in tones of pink, gold and mauve. Barely a breath of breeze ruffled her hair, and the only sounds were the whoosh of the waves rushing up onshore, the cries of the seagulls wheeling overhead and the laughter of a family group picnicking further along the sand. To her left, Newcastle’s famous Nobby’s Lighthouse sat atop the headland. Straight out in front of her was the Pacific Ocean.

So much space. So much room to breathe.

She pulled in a deep breath before turning to find Dylan watching her. With a self-conscious shrug she sat beside him. But not too close. She kept the pizza boxes between them. ‘You couldn’t have chosen a better spot. It’s wonderful down here.’

‘A perfect night for a picnic. Now, try a piece of this pizza.’’

She took a piece from the proffered box and bit into it. The flavours melted on her tongue and it was all she could do not to groan in appreciation. ‘Good...’ she murmured. ‘Seriously good.’

They munched pizza in silence for a bit. The longer they sat there, the lighter Mia started to feel. Dylan reminded her of all the pleasures—big and small—that the world held. Even after almost eleven months she was still afraid of giving herself over to enjoyment.

‘A penny for them.’

His voice broke into her thoughts.

‘One moment you were enjoying all of this and the next moment you weren’t.’

‘Oh!’ She swung to him. ‘I’m having a lovely time. Truly.’

Her stomach clenched. She’d come here to tell him the truth.

So tell him the truth.

She finished off her piece of pizza and reached for a paper napkin. ‘If you want to know the truth, I’m afraid of enjoying it too much.’

‘Why?’

She couldn’t look at him. ‘In case I do something stupid and it’s taken away from me again.’

He was silent for a couple of beats. ‘You’re talking about prison?’

She nodded.

‘Is there any reason to believe you’ll end up back there?’

Not if she remained vigilant.

‘I find it hard to take my liberty for granted.’ She grimaced. ‘You don’t understand how much you take it for granted until it’s taken away. Prison is a punishment—it’s supposed to be unpleasant. The thought of messing up and ending up back in there...’ She shivered. ‘So sometimes I find myself lost in a moment of enjoyment and then I remember jail and I wonder... I wonder how I could cope if I found myself back there again.’

He leaned towards her, drenching the air with a hint of smoky nutmeg. It mingled with the scents of ocean and pizza and she couldn’t recall relishing anything more in her life. She wanted to close her eyes and memorise that scent, so she could pull it out and appreciate it whenever she needed to.

‘Mia, you’re a different person now. You won’t make the same mistakes again.’

She wasn’t convinced—especially on that last point. ‘I think you need to know my story.’

‘I’d like to know it very much.’

‘It’s sordid,’ she warned.

She couldn’t make this pretty for him, no matter how much she might want to. He just shrugged, his eyes not leaving her face. It made her mouth dry.

‘Have you really not looked me up?’ There’d be newspaper articles and court reports he could access.

‘I wanted to hear the story from you—not from some so-called factual report that leaves out the truly relevant facts.’

She had a feeling that should have surprised her, but it didn’t. She glanced down at her hands. ‘I think I mentioned that my father was a...a difficult man.’

‘Emotionally abusive to your mother?’

She nodded, fighting the weariness that wanted to claim her. ‘When I was sixteen I finally stood up to him.’

‘What happened?’

‘He gave me a black eye and kicked me out.’

Dylan’s hands fisted.

‘I found temporary shelter in a homeless refuge and got work waitressing.’

‘School?’

‘I couldn’t manage school and work.’ She blew out a breath. ‘That’s something prison did give me—the opportunity to finish my high school education. It’s my high school diploma that made me eligible for the traineeship at Plum Pines.’

‘Right.’

She couldn’t tell what he was thinking so she simply pushed on. ‘When I was eighteen I met a man—Johnnie Peters. He was twenty-five and I thought him so worldly. I’d had a couple of boyfriends, you understand, but nothing serious.’

‘Until Johnnie?’

‘Until Johnnie...’ She swallowed the lump that threatened her throat. It settled in her chest to ache with a dull throb. ‘He swept me off my feet. I fell hopelessly in love with him.’

A muscle in Dylan’s jaw worked. ‘Would I be right in suspecting he didn’t deserve you?’

She could feel her lips twist. It took all her strength to maintain eye contact with Dylan. ‘The key word in my previous sentence was hopelessly.’ She stared back out to sea. ‘I had a lot of counselling when I was in jail. I understand now that there are men out there who target foolish, naïve girls. Which is exactly what I was.’

He reached out to squeeze her hand. ‘You were young.’

She pulled her hand from his. ‘When something looks too good to be true, it usually is. I knew that then, but I ignored it. He made me feel special, and I wanted to be special.’ She gripped her hands together. ‘He organised a new job for me—nine to five—where I was trained in office administration. It seemed like a step up. I was ridiculously grateful not to be on my feet all day, like I had been when waitressing.’

When she’d been in prison she’d longed for that waitressing job—aching legs and all. She should have been grateful for what she’d had. Content.

‘He moved me into his lovely house and bought me beautiful clothes. He was a stockbroker, and I thought he could have his pick of women. I felt I was the luckiest girl alive.’

‘He cut you off from your family and friends...controlled your finances?’

‘My family had already cut me off, but...yes.’ That was something she’d come to realise during sessions with her counsellor. ‘Things seemed perfect for a couple of years. What I didn’t realise was that he had a gambling problem.’

‘What happened?’ he prompted when she remained silent.

‘He started asking me to deposit cheques into accounts that weren’t in my name and then to withdraw the funds.’

‘You gave all the money to him?’

‘I gave him everything.’ She’d been an idiot. ‘Of course it was only a matter of time before I was traced on CCTV.’

‘And Johnnie?’

‘He was cleverer than I. He was never seen in the vicinity of any of the banks at the time, and he denied all knowledge.’

His mouth grew taut. ‘The scumbag fed you to the wolves.’

She turned to him, the ache in her chest growing fierce. ‘He was even smarter than that, Dylan. He convinced me to feed myself to the wolves. I told the police he was innocent.’

Anger flared in his eyes. ‘How long did it take you to realise what he was?’

Her stomach churned. She’d told herself it would be better for Dylan to despise her than it would be for him to love her. A part of her died inside anyway.

‘About four months into my sentence...when he hadn’t been to see me...when he stopped answering my letters.’

‘Then you turned him in to the authorities?’

She shook her head.

‘You continued to let him walk all over you?’

She stiffened at the censure in his voice. ‘Three things, Dylan. One—I had no proof. Especially not after the testimony I’d given in his favour. Any testimony to the contrary would’ve simply been written off as the ravings of a disaffected lover. Two—I needed to draw a line under that part of my life and move forward. And three—I deserved my punishment. Nothing was ever going to change that.’

‘He manipulated you!’

‘And I let him. I knew what I was doing was wrong. The first time I cashed a cheque he told me it was for his elderly aunt. The second time he said it was a favour for a work colleague. The third time he just asked me to do it for him, said that he was in trouble. I knew then that I was breaking the law, but I did it anyway. He never physically threatened me. I just did it.’

‘But I bet the emotional threat of him breaking up with you hung over every request?’

It had. And she hadn’t been able to face the thought of losing him. Talk about pathetic! ‘I told you it was sordid.’

‘Three years seems a long sentence for a first offender.’

She moistened her lips. ‘I stole a lot of money.’

He stared out to sea and her heart burned at the conflict reflected in his face. ‘You made a bad choice and you’ve paid for it.’ He turned, spearing her with his gaze. ‘Would you make the same decision again, given what you know now?’

‘Of course not. But we don’t get the chance to live our lives over. We just have to find ways to live with our mistakes.’

‘Shunning the simple pleasures in life won’t help you do that.’

He had a point.

His brows drew down low over his eyes. ‘Don’t you worry about other young women he might have targeted?’

Her heart started to thump. Trust Dylan to worry about vulnerable women he didn’t even know. She glanced down at her hands. ‘Fourteen months into my sentence Johnnie attempted an armed hold-up on a security van. He wasn’t successful. He was sentenced to fifteen years. I think the foolish young women of the world are safe from him for the moment.’

‘Good.’

Neither one of them went back to eating pizza.

‘Is that why you let men walk all over you?’

She stiffened. ‘I don’t let you walk all over me.’

His lips twisted, though his eyes remained hard. ‘There’s hope for me yet, then.’

‘No, there’s not! I—’

‘You’ve let Gordon, Thierry and Felipe all treat you like you’re worthless. Your father and Johnnie both treated you badly. Do you really hold yourself so cheaply?’

Her heart surged against her ribs. ‘Neither my father nor Johnnie are in my life any more. Thierry doesn’t matter to me one jot! Felipe didn’t take advantage of me. And as for Gordon...’

Dylan folded his arms and raised his eyebrows.

‘He has the power to fire me. Keeping my head beneath the parapet where he’s concerned is the smartest course of action. It won’t be forever.’

‘There’ll always be Gordons in your life in one form or another. Are you going to turn yourself into a doormat for all of them?’

‘If I do it’ll be none of your business!’

‘Why tell me all of this, then?’

‘Because if we’re going to be friends—’ she ground the word out ‘—eventually the press will find out who I am and my story will come out. And it wouldn’t be fair to have the press spring something like that on you without preparing you first.’

He dragged a hand down his face.

‘And...’

He stilled. ‘And...?’

She didn’t want to continue, but she had to. It was the reason she’d started this conversation. ‘And I wanted you to understand why I have no intention of ever pursuing another romantic relationship.’

He stared at her, but she couldn’t read the expression in his eyes.

‘Because you were burned once?’

‘Because I don’t like who I am when I’m in love. I refuse to become that person again.’

He shot to his feet. ‘Are you likening me to this Johnnie Peters?’

She shot to her feet too. ‘Of course not!’

He stabbed a finger at her. ‘That’s exactly what you’re doing. You’re saying that if you let yourself be vulnerable to me, I’ll take advantage of you.’

She could feel herself start to shake. ‘This is about me, not you!’

‘Garbage. I—’

He broke off when a bright flash momentarily blinded both of them. Mia realised two things then—night had fallen...and someone had just snapped their photo.

Without another word, Dylan charged off into the darkness.

Biting back a groan, Mia set off after him.

* * *

Dylan hurled himself at the shape that had emerged in the darkness, bringing the anonymous photographer down.

He tried to clamp down on the rage that had him wanting to tear things apart with his bare hands. He wanted to tear apart the men who’d let Mia down—her father, the despicable Johnnie Peters. He wanted to tear apart her mistaken view of herself as some kind of spineless push-over. He wanted to tear apart her view of him! Most of all he wanted to tear himself apart, and he didn’t know why.

Don’t tear the photographer apart. He’s just doing his job.

‘Fair go, Fairweather!’

Dylan pushed himself upright as Mia came running up. She shone the torch on her phone on the photographer, confirming Dylan’s suspicions. A hard ball lodged in his belly.

‘Percy Struthers. What the hell do you think you’re doing, sneaking up on me again now?’

Percy had created a PR firestorm last year, when Dylan had been in charge of a Turkish sultan’s sixtieth birthday celebrations. Percy had released a photo of Dylan and the Sultan’s very beautiful youngest daughter, linking them romantically. It had been a lie, of course, but try telling that to an enraged Turkish sultan...

Percy Struthers was the grubbiest of the gutter press, and trouble with a capital T.

Mia had broken the law—she’d done wrong and she’d paid the price—but the world was full of immoral, unethical people who lied and cheated. Were they sent to jail? Hardly! Some of them were applauded and clapped on the back for it—like tabloid journalists and politicians.

‘It’s news whenever a new woman turns up in your life—you know that.’

‘Give me the camera.’

With a sigh, Percy handed it over.

Dylan stood and indicated for Mia to shine her torch on the camera. With a flick of his fingers he removed the memory stick.

Percy clambered to his feet, caught the camera when Dylan tossed it back to him. ‘It won’t stop the story, you know.’

‘Without a photograph the story won’t gain traction.’

They both knew that.

The photographer gave an ugly laugh. ‘But one of us will eventually get a photo—you can’t remain on your guard twenty-four-seven.’

Beside him, Mia stiffened. Dylan wanted to throw his head back and howl. This was her worst nightmare, and it was he who’d dragged her into it.

‘I know who she is,’ Percy continued. ‘And I know what she’s done.’

Her absolute worst nightmare.

‘Aren’t you afraid she’s on the make? That you’re simply her latest target?’

He felt rather than saw Mia flinch. A ball of fury lodged in his gut.

Don’t rise to the bait. Don’t give the pond scum anything. Don’t feed the frenzy.

It hit him suddenly how much his name, his position, were black marks against him in Mia’s book.

Percy gave another of those ugly laughs. ‘An ex-con? Really, Dylan? What are you trying to prove? Or have you developed a taste for a bit of rough?’

Dylan reached out and took Mia’s hand. ‘I think we’re done here.’

‘Run along, darlin’.’ The photographer smirked. ‘We all know what you’re after.’

And then he called her a name that no man should ever call a woman.

Dylan whirled around, his right hand fisted, and smashed him square on the nose. Blood burst from it as the man reeled backwards to sprawl on the ground. Pain shot up Dylan’s arm.

Mia sucked in a breath, and even in the darkness he could see the way her eyes flashed.

Percy cursed. ‘You’ll pay for that, Fairweather.

Mia tried to tug her hand from Dylan’s but he refused to relinquish it. He towed her in the direction of the car instead. He had to get out of here before he did something truly despicable—like beat Percy Struthers to a pulp.

Mia sat in tight-lipped silence all the way home, only unfolding her arms to push herself out of the car once he’d pulled up at the front of her cottage. She slammed it with a force that made him wince.

He had to jog to catch up with her. She didn’t hold the front door open for him, letting it fall behind her, meaning he had to catch it. But at least she hadn’t slammed it in his face. He told himself that was something.

‘You’re...uh...cross with me?’

She turned on him, and her eyes flashed with so much anger the hair at her temples seemed to shake with it.

She seized his right hand and glanced down at it. ‘Does it hurt?’

‘Yes.’

‘Good.’

She dropped it as if it burned her. Moving to the freezer, she took out a packet of frozen peas. Grabbing his hand, she slammed it on top of his grazed knuckles. It didn’t really hurt any more, but he winced anyway, hoping it would give her more bloodthirsty impulses a measure of satisfaction. And he submitted when she pushed him towards one of her hard wooden chairs—not so hard now they sported pale blue chair pads.

She lifted his left hand and dropped it on top of the peas to hold them in place, then retreated to sit on the sofa and glower at him.

The silence started to saw on his nerves. ‘You think I’m an idiot?’

‘Totally.’

‘He had no right to call you what he did.’

‘You are utterly infuriating!’ Her hands balled into fists. ‘What he called me was despicable, but the best thing you could’ve done was walk away without giving him the satisfaction of reacting.’ She shot to her feet and started to pace. ‘Oh, but, no—you couldn’t manage that, could you? No! Your honour demanded reparation for the lady—regardless of how much more difficult you’d be making it for said lady!’

He shifted on the chair. ‘I...uh...’

‘The story will break in the tabloids, the ugliest accusations will be made, and I’ll be hounded by reporters and photographers at work. Hell!’ She flung her arms out. ‘Just wait until Gordon catches wind of this. I’ll be out on my ear.’ She swung to him, thumping a hand to her chest. ‘I need to finish this traineeship. I need a decent qualification so I can get a job.’

‘I’ve already told you—come and work for me.’

‘I don’t want to work for you!’

Her rejection stung. He shot to his feet then too. ‘That’s right—you’d rather bury yourself in some godforsaken place where you can sentence yourself to a life of solitary confinement.’

‘That’s my decision to make.’

He wanted to hurl the peas across the room. Except he didn’t want to ruin the pretty new furnishings. He had to settle for dropping them in the sink instead.

He moved back into the middle of the room. ‘I have no intention of making light of your experiences with the criminal justice system, but you’re letting one experience colour your entire life.’ That hard lump of anger in his chest rose up into his throat. ‘And I am not Johnnie Peters.’

Her entire frame shook. ‘I told you—this is about me. Not you.’ She didn’t yell, but her words speared through him as if they’d come at him at great volume. ‘You punched a man tonight, Dylan. That photographer can have you charged with assault. He’d be within his rights.’

It was true. It had been foolish to react. He couldn’t find it in himself to regret it, though.

‘And you made me an eye witness to the event.’

He swung back to meet her gaze. What he saw there made his heart burn.

‘If I were in love with you, and you asked me to lie to the police about what had happened tonight...’

She didn’t finish the sentence, but her pallor made his stomach churn.

‘You’re afraid you’d perjure yourself for me?’

‘If I fell in love with you, Dylan, I’m afraid I’d risk everything again.’

He reached out to curl his fingers around her shoulders. ‘I would never ask that of you.’

She moved away until his hands dropped back to his sides. ‘The best way for me to avoid that kind of temptation is to avoid romantic attachments altogether. All I want is a quiet life. It doesn’t seem too much to ask. It doesn’t seem like such a big sacrifice to make.’

Ice sped through his veins. ‘You’re mistaken if you think living a half-life isn’t a sacrifice. It’ll keep you out of jail, it’ll keep you out of trouble, but there are worse things than jail.’

She blinked, as if that wasn’t a thought that had ever occurred to her.

‘Living a life without love is one of them. And here’s another thing for you to think about. If I fell in love with you—’ he pointed a finger at her ‘—who’s to say you wouldn’t have the same power over me that Johnnie had over you? Who’s to say you wouldn’t force me to turn my back on my principles?’

The words spilled from him with an uncanny truth that left him reeling.

Her mouth dropped open.

He forged on, not understanding what was happening to him. ‘Do you think I’d lie, steal or perjure myself for you?’

Her hands twisted together. ‘You might lie for me...if it wasn’t a big lie.’

He widened his stance. ‘But the rest?’

She bit her lip and finally shook her head. ‘No.’

‘What makes you think you would, then?’

‘My past tells me I’m weak.’

‘Do you really think three years in prison—with all the education and counselling you received—hasn’t made you stronger?’

She still labelled herself as weak-willed and easy to manipulate. He understood her fear of prison, and her determination never to find herself back behind bars, but she was wrong. She might let people like Gordon push her around, but she was as strong as one of the Plum Pines the reserve was named after.

Behind the dark moss of her eyes he could see her mind racing. He mightn’t have convinced her. Yet. But he’d given her something to think about.

He snaked his hand behind her head and drew her face close to his.

‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked.

‘I’m giving you something else to think about. Do you really want to live without this, Mia?’

He wanted to slam his lips to hers and kiss her with all the pent-up frustration tearing at his soul. He didn’t. She’d tensed, ready to resist such an assault. And he didn’t want to hurt her. If she’d let him he’d do everything he could to make her happy.

He touched his lips to hers gently, slowly exploring the lush lines of her mouth—savouring her. He poured all of himself into the kiss, wanting to give her as much pleasure as he could.

With a shiver and a sigh she sank against him, her hands fisting in his shirt. At his gentle demand she opened up to him and he felt as if he was home. Murmuring her name, he moved to gather her close—only to find a hand planted on his chest, pushing him away.

‘Stop.’

He released her immediately.

Her chest rose and fell as if she’d been running. ‘You shouldn’t be kissing me.’

He couldn’t think of anything he’d rather do.

‘What you should be doing is readying yourself for the PR disaster that’s about to hit.’

He remained silent until she lifted her gaze to his. ‘I promise you won’t lose your job.’

She snorted her disbelief. ‘Will you please warn Carla too? I think it’d be a good idea if you told her all that I told you tonight.’

‘You want Carla to know?’

‘It seems only fair.’

‘No.’ He refused to be a party to her shutting herself off from people. ‘If you’re truly her friend, Mia, then you tell her.’

With that, he spun on his heel and left.

* * *

Dylan stumbled down Mia’s front steps, feeling as if he’d descended a drop of a thousand feet. He put out a hand to steady himself, but there was nothing to grab on to. He stood there swaying, praying he’d find his balance soon.

What had just happened?

Idiot!

The word screamed over and over in his mind, but he didn’t know why.

What was so idiotic about anything he’d done tonight? Mia might think him an idiot for punching Percy Struthers, but the man had deserved it. Given the chance, he’d do it again! And he wasn’t an idiot for refusing to be labelled as another Johnnie Peters either.

Pain shot into his jaw from clenching his teeth too hard. He was nothing like Johnnie Peters!

He lurched over to his car and flung the door open, but he didn’t get in.

He wasn’t an idiot for fighting against Mia’s mistaken view of herself. She wasn’t weak! She was one of the strongest women he knew.

Stronger than Caitlin.

He froze. Where had that come from?

But... Mia was stronger than Caitlin.

His mouth dried, and his heart was pounding so hard it sent nausea swirling through him. Mia was exactly the kind of woman who’d go the distance with a man—who’d take the good times with the bad, who’d weather the storms. Mia wouldn’t turn tail and run at the first sign of trouble. If things got tough she’d dig her heels in and wait it out.

Idiot!

It finally hit him why that word kept going round and round in his mind. He collapsed on to the car seat. He’d been telling himself all this time that what he wanted with Mia was an affair, but that was a lie.

He wanted it all. He loved her. He wanted a chance to build a life with her.

His vision darkened. He raked his hands through his hair. All this time he’d thought he’d been keeping his heart safe...and yet the whole time he’d been falling in love with her.

His hands clenched about the steering wheel. He would not give up! Mia had told his uncle that he, Dylan, made dreams come true. Was there the slightest chance on earth that he could make her dreams come true?

If he wanted to win her heart he had to find out.