Читать книгу Fatal Flaw - Sandy Curtis - Страница 10

'Talbert isn't up to it. The psychologist agreed.'

John Corey looked at the expression on his superior's face. If masters looked like their pets, then Ian McSwain must own a bulldog, he thought. 'This isn't really operational duty,' he protested. 'All we need Mark to do is get close enough to Ray Galloway to see what he can find out. It would take us too long to get someone inside GalCorp, and Mark's father and Galloway were friends for years. He has a personal connection.'

'He could ruin the investigation for us. The psychologist felt there was something deeper troubling him than just getting shot. And his father being killed could exacerbate his problems.'

John didn't give voice to his thoughts. Telling your superior you thought he was talking through his arse wasn't guaranteed to put you high on the promotional stakes. And 'just getting shot' was the best understatement John had heard in a long time. Getting shot in the line of duty was one thing, a deliberate murder attempt by a colleague was another. He wasn't sure how he'd be feeling if he were in Mark's shoes. He glanced through the office window to the grey Canberra sky. Perhaps Mark didn't need this pressure at the moment. But if John was going to work with anyone, he wanted it to be someone he could trust. An air of suspicion still hung over the agency. Mark Talbert was the only one who remained untouched. But he'd paid a high price for the privilege.

'How about I give him the option? If he's in as bad a state as you reckon, he'll probably opt out.'

John watched as McSwain appeared to deliberate. Mark Talbert was the best chance they had, and McSwain knew it. Sometimes he just liked to flex his boss muscle.

'Well, he has the experience,' McSwain grudgingly replied. 'And he's already on the scene. But if he—'

'He won't. He's too much of a professional.'

McSwain pushed a folder across the desk. 'Give it to him personally. Gauge his reaction. If you have any doubts, take him out of it immediately.'

Julie eventually nodded in understanding, and relief washed through Mark. His job had been his life for many years now, and although there were aspects of it that he could never disclose to anyone, not even the shrink who'd tried to prise his psyche apart after he'd been shot, he needed Julie to accept that his work was a part of him that he couldn't pretend didn't exist.

She began to gather the glasses onto the second tray. Her hands stilled as though she'd thought of something.

'Are you,' she seemed to struggle for the words. 'Are you always going to be in that job?'

It took a while for Mark to answer. It was a question he had recently asked himself, and more frequently since his father's murder. He'd had a lot of career satisfaction, but his personal life had definitely taken second place. In the past few months he had become aware that he wanted more than his work was able to give him. 'Possibly not,' he replied.

He saw the way the tension eased from her features at his answer, and something inside him seemed to slot into place.

'When do you go back to Canberra?' she asked.

'I'm on leave for another month. It should be enough time to sort out Dad's affairs.'

Julie watched the tendons on Mark's neck tighten. She knew he'd always been close to his father, and could understand his difficulty in coming to terms with Gordon's death. Especially under the circumstances. 'Have the police determined anything?'

'No. There was no sign of a break-in. They think Dad had left one of the doors open and that's how the intruder entered. They're not even sure if it was only one person, but they're fairly certain the robbery was planned. There were no fingerprints, but Mum and Susan may have destroyed any clues when they came home and found Dad and tried to see if he was still alive.'

Julie stayed silent, knowing she could say nothing to ease Mark's pain. The anguish in his eyes increased, and he knuckled his eyebrows as though trying to expunge a deeper hurt. 'Before Dad drove me to the mountains, he said he had a problem he had to deal with, but he wouldn't discuss the details. I was a bit preoccupied at the time, and I guess …' Anguish etched across his face. He stood up and walked to the deck rail and stared at the pool where the boys were now honing their diving skills. 'I should have offered him more support.'

Julie had to swallow the lump in her throat. Mark's grief was almost palpable. She walked over to him and hugged him. For a split second she felt his hesitation, then his arms went around her and she was crushed against his chest. Neither of them spoke. After a while Julie realised they were breathing in rhythm, and a warmth that had nothing to do with the heat of the day was seeping through her. And so was the awareness that being held in Mark's arms felt more right than anything she'd experienced in years.

Finally, and reluctantly she felt, they moved apart.

Footsteps thudding onto the deck swung them around. Andy stood, water dripping from his hair, towel draped around his narrow waist, looking from one to the other and back again. 'Mum, the guys want to go to the movies at Indooroopilly Shoppingtown. That's okay, isn't it?'

Julie watched her son's need for independence war with his desire to be around in case she needed protecting. Though his voice had started to break, he was yet to have the growth spurt that would start him on the road to manhood. 'Of course it is. Just make sure you're home before dark. And take your mobile.'

Andy flashed her a grin that said he knew the rules, and dashed into the house. The lurch in her heart was almost painful. He was growing up so fast.

'What does he do on school holidays when you have to work?' Mark asked.

'He stays with Zac, one of his mates. Zac's mother has two younger children as well and she's happy to have a little extra income to help out.' She smiled at him. 'Sometimes I get him to help me cook dinner. He doesn't have quite the flair you had, but you were always such a perfectionist.'

'I didn't want to starve.' The words had hardly left his mouth when memories came surging into Mark's mind. Reading his mother's recipe books while his father poured another Scotch. Peeling vegetables and cooking meat. Gordon slumping in front of the television with his glass slipping through his fingers. Putting his father's meal in the oven in the hope he would eat before he went to bed.

Then Claire had come into their lives. For the first time since Mark's mother had died, Gordon Talbert had started taking an interest in life again. His drinking had slowed, then stopped. On his tenth birthday, Mark had received a new bicycle and the news that Gordon and Claire were to marry. On their wedding day, Mark had felt he might, just might, believe in miracles.

The rainforest broke the sun's scorching rays as Ruth moved into its hushed shadows. Although no rain had fallen for weeks, the ground still carried the dank smell of plant mould and friable soil. A wallaby, startled by her approach, hopped further into the undergrowth. Ruth's sandals padded over the gnarled roots and leaf litter, and her skirt made a pleasant swishing sound between her striding legs. She smiled. It felt so wonderful to be herself, to not care who saw her, or worry that she might give herself away by a thoughtless word. She began to hum in rhythm with her footsteps.

The track narrowed as it began its descent down the mountainside, and finally petered out. Ruth slowed her pace, careful now, wary of the rocks that might topple under her weight and the fallen trees that might shelter snakes. A few minutes later she negotiated a bend and stopped. Over the years rain had funnelled into the boulder-strewn rift before her and collected in a pool a few metres below. During storms the pool would overflow down the mountain, but now it lay, clear and cool, an irresistible invitation to her hot skin.

The backyard of her house ended at the edge of the rainforest, but her nearest neighbour was hundreds of metres away and she had never found evidence that anyone else knew of the pool. She scrambled down the rocks to the water's edge, glanced around to reassure herself that she was truly alone, took off her sandals, dress and underwear, and slipped into the coolness.

For many minutes she let the water soak away the stresses of the past week. Gordon had been a disappointment. She had counted on him taking action as soon as he had received the letter. When this didn't happen, she had decided to accelerate her timeline and push his death forward a few months. Now that he was buried, they would begin to remove his personal effects from his office. Ruth was sure he would have kept the letter in a private place in his office. Which meant that when it was given to Claire, she would turn it over to the authorities. Claire's disdain for Ray Galloway was something Ruth knew she could rely on.

A rock moved beneath Ruth's foot, and she stepped back quickly. She had never learned to swim, and the pool was deep in the centre. She sat down, her back against a boulder, the water lapping her chin. Yes, the next stage of her plan should proceed nicely.

'Did you have anything planned for the rest of the day?' Mark asked Julie as she waved Andy off to join his mates.

'Only some gardening. The side yard is starting to look like a jungle. But it can wait.'

'I'll give you a hand with it.'

Julie smiled. 'You're hardly dressed for pruning and weeding.'

Mark looked down at his shirt and jeans. 'That's easily fixed.' He undid the buttons on his shirt, pulled it from his jeans, and tossed it onto the chair. 'Do you have a spare hat and some sunscreen, or will we be in the shade?'

'Shade… no, well, a little.' Julie felt her wits had deserted her. She was used to seeing most men her age with an almost obligatory beer gut. Mark might have been solidly built, but it was all muscle. Very attractive muscle. 'Do you go to the gym a lot?'

'I try to keep fit.'

Although there was no inference to be drawn from his tone, Julie said, 'I guess you have to, in your line of work.'

A shadow flitted across Mark's face but he made no comment. Julie picked up the tray of glasses and plates. 'I'll find a hat for you.'

As she rummaged around in Andy's bedroom for some kind of headgear that might fit Mark, she berated herself for the tangent her mind was taking. As a teenager she'd harboured dreams of Mark seeing her as more than a friend, but she'd gradually come to accept that he didn't feel the same way. Now that long-suppressed hope had reignited, and she was afraid it would be dashed once again. Since she'd seen him at the funeral yesterday, she'd had trouble controlling the fantasies that had hyped up her libido to the point that she'd practically salivated at the sight of his tightly muscled chest and those dark hairs trailing down to the jeans moulded around his hips.

An hour and a half later she stripped off her gardening gloves, pushed her hat to the back of her head, and wiped her face. Weeds and branches littered the lawn, but at least the garden was now almost under control. She watched as the mattock Mark was swinging bit deep into the gnarled root of an overgrown shrub. He levered the root from the ground, his body glistening with sweat, his muscles cording with the exertion. The effect was so blatantly male, so evocative of how he might look holding himself up while he positioned himself over her naked, willing body, that she quivered with the need shooting through her.

They'd worked together well, talking little, and Julie realised how much she'd missed his companionship. She'd had to work at her relationship with Luke, but with Mark it was easy. And so was the attraction she felt. She'd spent the past hour getting hotter than the sun could be blamed for. The feel of his skin as she'd rubbed the sunscreen on his back lingered in her memory. For one absurd moment, she wished she had the courage to beg him to make love to her. But she knew one session of hot, steamy sex wouldn't be enough. She'd be damned if she'd risk losing him by chasing him like a horny teenager.

'Let's have lunch,' she said as he began raking the rubbish into a pile. He nodded, and she walked over to the hose, picked it up and turned on the tap. She sluiced water across her face and flicked it away. Mark pulled off his gloves and laid them on the mattock.

Before she could stop the mischievous thought that popped into her mind, Julie acted on it. She turned the tap on full and blasted Mark in the chest. The astounded look on his face was so comical that laughter bubbled up in Julie's throat. She turned the hose on harder. The grin that split Mark's face transformed it so much that Julie's laughter died. Her heart clenched with the recognition that she had always loved this man.

Suddenly he charged at her, tossing her across his shoulder and grabbing the hose in one swift move. Water sprayed over her back, knocked off her hat, and poured through her hair. She laughed, and pretended to hit him with her fists. He swung her to the ground, his own laughter rippling up from deep in his chest. There was a sexy, daredevil gleam in his eyes that she had never seen before. He held her against him, aiming the hose so it showered over the two of them, sluicing off dirt and sweat.

'I've wanted to do that for a long time, Mark Talbert,' Julie said, when he aimed the water towards the garden.

'What? Hose me?'

'No. Make you laugh. You were always such a serious child. Then you were a serious teenager who turned into a serious adult. You'd smile, but I always wondered what it would be like when you laughed, really laughed.'

'And how was it?'

His tone intimated it wasn't a casual question, and Julie saw something in his eyes that needed more than a flippant reply. 'Worth waiting all these years for.'

She kissed him. A light, almost hesitant, touch of lips. Soft as a butterfly's wing. She felt the sudden stillness in his body, the tension in his big hands where they held her. Heart pounding, apprehensive about his reaction, she eased slightly away.

He dropped the hose.

She saw a tentative acknowledgment in his eyes, saw her own nervousness mirrored, then disappear. As his lips lowered to hers, she recognised the inevitability of the moment, as though it had always been meant for them to be together. She felt the sun's heat on his skin, savoured the hot masculine taste and smell of him, and tried to feel as much of him as she could through their clothing. It wasn't enough. She wanted him. More than she'd ever wanted Luke or the boy she'd dated before him or the man with whom she'd had an affair after her divorce. And the growing hardness pressed against her stomach declared Mark's need was just as great.

When she broke the kiss it was to see him opening his eyes as though he were dazed, but his arms tightened around her, and his lips covered hers again, his tongue tasting, exploring, his body moulding against hers, his chest muscles rubbing against her breasts so they throbbed with the need to feel his touch on them.

Mark's first doubts about kissing Julie had been washed away by the sheer pleasure surging through him. It wasn't just physical. It went beyond that. It felt so good, so right, that when she'd moved away from him the loss was more acute than he could bear. He had to have her back in his arms, feel her body against his, know the softness of her skin, the taste of her, the smell of her.

He wanted her.

Needed her.

Ached for her.

He needed her to make him believe he could once more be the boy who had held her hand, the youth who had shared his hopes and fears, the young man who had taken his idealistic hopes and dreams and entered a world of deceit and betrayal where truth became lies and distinguishing friend from enemy a game too deadly to lose.

He needed her to believe in him so he could believe in himself again.

He needed…her. Her spirit, her trust. Her love.

His hand slid beneath her tee-shirt, caressed her breast until the nipple rose, hard and tight against her bra. The groan that started in his chest rose as he slipped his fingers past the soft fabric, felt her flesh hot against his palm.

He wanted to be inside her so deeply that he would lose all awareness of his own body and know only hers.

He deepened the kiss.

The ache between Julie's legs grew until it dominated her mind, driving out all sense, all discretion. If she didn't have Mark completely she would go crazy with wanting. She pulled away, dragged air into lungs that seemed to have forgotten how to breathe, and muttered, 'Let's go inside'.

The fierce hunger in Mark's eyes told her he wasn't going to refuse.

She turned off the hose and sensed him every step beside her as she walked into the house; the faint brush of his arm against hers, his quick withdrawal as though too much contact would rob him of the control he needed not to take her then and there, on the grass, on the steps, the deck…

Her tension was almost unbearable as she led him into her bedroom. She knew she was taking a risk. Making love with Mark could be the start of something new, something potentially wonderful. But it could also mean the end of their friendship. Once they crossed that line, their relationship wouldn't, couldn't, be the same again. But it was too late now. She'd suppressed her need for him for too long.

She stripped off her clothes, watching his reaction, hoping she would see no revulsion at the silver striations that flecked her abdomen. But all she could read in his eyes was desire.

When Mark's jeans followed her shorts and tee-shirt to the floor, Julie suddenly realised how unprepared she was for love-making. 'I'm not on the pill,' she blurted out. 'Do you have a condom?'

Mark blinked as the question focused his thoughts, hitting him with the reality that this woman, so attuned to the essential part of him, was his friend, his best friend. She was no longer the girl who had listened to his troubles and consoled him when his father drank himself into oblivion or his dates proved disastrous. He looked at the nervousness in her smile, the defiant tilt to her head as she stood naked before him. A faint tremor ran through her body at his scrutiny, and the blood rushed through his veins when her breasts quivered. Almost involuntarily, his gaze focused on the dark curling hairs that hid what his body desperately sought.

Now was his chance to step back, to return to what they had previously shared. If he wanted to.

Julie thought she'd snap with the anxiety eating into her as she waited for Mark to reply. She had wanted him for so long, and now that he was here and looking at her with a deep, raw hunger, she was suddenly afraid. Luke's deception had hurt her deeply, and it had taken a long time to regain her self-confidence.

'In my wallet,' Mark said. 'But it's been there a while. I suppose it's still okay.'

'It'll do.' Heart beating wildly, Julie flung back the bedspread and sheet. Within seconds Mark joined her, moulding his body to hers, skin to skin, moving, touching.

It was balm, it was erotic, it was sensual beyond belief. It was everything she had ever dreamed it would be. But it wasn't enough. His lips on hers wasn't enough. His tongue savouring hers wasn't enough. His hands stroking her breasts, fingers rubbing her nipples, wasn't enough. She had to have him inside her, had to feel the solid length of him as deep as she could take. She moved beneath him, inviting, pleading.

Mark eased into her, obviously trying to be gentle, but then he shuddered and pushed into her with a groan that matched the intense swell of satisfaction spreading through her body.

She moved her hips, urging him deeper, wrapping her legs around him, hungry for the pleasure that came with each powerful thrust.

Through a haze she saw the tendons tight in his neck, the sweat that trickled through his dark chest hairs. His eyes were closed, his face intent. She reached up a hand and caressed his cheek. His eyes opened, his gaze locked with hers, and he smiled. A smile that wrapped around her and invited her into his soul. For a moment Julie thought she would melt with the sheer joy that coursed through her.

As though caught by something beyond his control, Mark quickened his rhythm, and Julie surged with him, gasping, rocking, beyond thinking, beyond sanity and the heat-filled room and the pound of flesh into flesh, until she shook with pleasure. Intense…unbelievable…pleasure. Pulsing. Again and again.

A groan wrenched from Mark's mouth and he thrust one last time. He collapsed onto her.

Driving past Gordon Talbert's house gave Todd Langley a reasonable idea of where he would approach from that night. Talbert's neighbours had built on even bigger blocks of land than Talbert's house occupied, though not as far back from the road. Trees on the roadside verge offered rudimentary concealment for his car, and it would be easy for him to slip down the side of Talbert's shrub-lined driveway.

Ray Galloway's sketch of the house appeared reasonably accurate, and Todd hoped there would be no security system for him to deal with. He might need some time to find what he was after, especially if Gordon had put it in a safe. His skills in that area were only fair, even with all the high-tech equipment he used.

He was tempted to drive in and knock on the door and offer his condolences if any family were at home. It would provide an opportunity to suss out the interior. But he was strangely reluctant to do so. Perhaps Ray's description of Mark Talbert had something to do with it. Ray was usually on the mark when it came to assessing people. Dangerous, eh? It was a description Todd could well apply to Ray himself.

Mark eased from Julie and rolled to the side. A slow wonderment was spreading inside him. And a tentative, almost frightening, hope.

He looked at Julie, her dark hair damp on the pillow, eyelashes curved over her cheeks, lips slightly parted. His gut twisted with the depth of his need to reach out and hold her, to reassure himself that what they'd just shared was as real and as meaningful for her as it had been for him.

She opened her eyes and smiled at him, a soft, glowing smile that eased some of his trepidation. 'I've missed you,' she murmured.

Realisation hit him. His growing discontent with his work, with himself, had started long before he'd been shot. Something had been missing from his life. Something that completed him, made him feel worthwhile.

Julie.

No-one understood him like Julie did. Or accepted him as unconditionally.

'And I've missed you,' he managed to reply.

Her small sigh of contentment told him that she'd not been sure of his reaction to her statement. 'Tell me about Canberra,' she said. 'Where do you live? Do you still do archery? Have you perfected any new recipes?'

He chuckled at the twinkle in her eyes as she asked the last question, and saw the pleasure the sound caused her. Happiness seeped through his bones. 'I'll tell you when I get back,' he said.

At her puzzled look, he rolled off the condom and knotted it.

'Don't be long,' she smiled as he left the bed.

He wasn't long, but their conversation when he returned was. Mark realised he hadn't talked so much, or so freely, for years. And all the time they talked, they touched. Long, slow, lingering touches. Mark felt his arousal building, felt Julie tremble as his fingers grazed her nipples and feathered across her thighs. Her hand on his lower stomach stilled as she asked, 'Do you have another condom?'

He stilled, suddenly aware of the futility of their caresses. 'No.'

For a minute she lay motionless. Then, 'Mark, have you ever lied to me?'

'No.'

'Would you lie to me?'

He traced one finger down her cheekbone to her chin, feeling the softness of her skin, marvelling that she was lying there with him. 'No.'

'Do you have any communicable diseases? Are you HIV positive?'

'Ah.' Now he knew what she was getting at. 'No to both questions. What about you?'

For a second she looked almost shocked that he would ask. 'No. I had a rather short-lived affair three years after Luke left, but I practised safe sex. And celibacy has worked well since then. Has there …' The colour drained from her face. 'Is there … are you involved … with anyone?'

He smiled. 'Remember I said that condom had been in my wallet a while?'

She nodded.

'Well, it's been a long while.'

With a grin, Julie rolled onto him, moving her breasts over the smattering of dark hairs on his chest, and rubbing against his growing erection. 'How do you feel about coitus interruptus?'

'It's risky.'

'Only if you're not quick enough. Can I trust you?'

Trust? If she kept up what she was doing he wouldn't last long enough to enter her, let alone pull out in time. He was going to say no, that they should wait, but the temptation to be inside her without restriction, to feel the hot, moist tightness of her, was irresistible. He nodded.

The temptation lived up to his expectations. It was the kind of pleasure he'd only ever dreamed of before, losing himself so completely in a woman, and it took a massive effort of will to stay aware and retain control. Julie arched over him, taking him deep inside her. He watched her face, the way her eyes closed as little spasms shook her.

His build-up increased. His hands moved to her hips, ready to lift her away, when footsteps sounded in the hallway.

With a sharp cry, Julie dropped down on him, and the sudden pressure forced the release he was trying to control. He bit back his groan of dismay as Julie reached for the sheet and pulled it over them.

'Mum, Zac's dad is going to…' Andy's voice choked off as he stopped at the bedroom doorway.