Читать книгу Black Ice - Sandy Curtis - Страница 7

Kirri tried to shake off the feeling of unease that had gripped her since Daniel Brand had walked into her art gallery this afternoon. The man was damn attractive, there was no disputing the fact, but the roiling emotions evident in his eyes had been almost frightening in their intensity.

She locked the back door to the gallery and tossed the keys into her shoulder bag. Within minutes she walked to where she had parked her van. The crowds at Noosa never seemed to slacken; there were even more people out and about now, in the relative cool of early evening, than there had been during the regular shopping hours. Board-shorted surfies with bronze skin and flopping sandals shared the pavement with middle-aged matrons dressed in immaculate designer resort wear.

Pedestrians spilled across the roads, slowing the traffic around the parking areas to a patience-testing crawl. Kirri smiled. Cairns enjoyed the same tourist resort feeling. To hurry was almost a crime.

At the main shopping centre she pulled into a ten minute parking bay outside a bank. She walked over and slipped a bag into the night deposit chute. The takings had improved this week, but after paying the expensive rent and Jenny's wages she knew there still wasn't a high enough level of profit to vindicate her decision to open this second gallery.

She was a serious artist, but the fine art she loved to paint couldn't provide enough income to support her and her daughter. Until she could make a name for herself in the art world, only the commercial paintings she sold in the galleries would do that. But deep down she queried if this was her only reason.

The drive to her flat gave her more opportunity to question her motives, and just as much time to reach no conclusions. Her van crept around the street corners and she bit at her lip. The drive from Cairns had taxed its engine severely and she was beginning to doubt its ability to do the return trip.

Her flat was on a side street off Weyba Road at the back of Noosa. Normally a permanent rental, it wasn't as up-market as the holiday apartments, but she was grateful for the cheaper rent. As soon as she opened the doors and windows to let in some fresh air, she slipped off her sandals, took her mobile from her bag and pressed a menu number.

It was answered on the fourth ring. As she listened to her grandmother's voice loneliness swept over Kirri. Then her daughter's 'Mum, Mum, Mum,' bubbled through and she fought back tears. A month without holding her precious child, a month without smelling her soft baby skin and feeling baby kisses sloppy and warm on her cheek. Even the nightly ritual of a telephone call couldn't lessen the pain.

Darkness crept in as she ended the call. She sat for a while, grateful not to see the shabby furnishings, imagining herself back in O'Connor Valley, cuddling her daughter, rocking her to sleep, smoothing the dark curls from her forehead.

Daniel Brand's face suddenly flashed into her mind - in the hospital, unconscious, his long eyelashes curled onto his cheeks. There was something about the tilt of his head … She closed her eyes, tried to remember. Blackness. Always blackness. She fought the frustration and despair that welled up inside her. Since Catelyn's birth she'd thought she'd conquered the need to know, relegated it to that part of her life that was over, but lately …

With an effort she walked to the kitchen area and turned on the light. In a few days she'd be home again. It was a consoling thought. As she took vegetables from the fridge to cut up for a stir-fry, her thoughts returned to Daniel Brand and the strange sensation that had shot through her as she'd touched him. A sensation she couldn't quite name.

A sensation she wanted to feel again.

Her body was pliant beneath him, her skin warm with desire, eyes glazing with the heady rush of ecstasy. His hand closed over a full, firm breast and he revelled in its silky smoothness, the way the nipple pressed into his palm. He could feel himself tighten, the mindless spiral concentrating deep in his belly, the urge to -

A sharp ringing sound nudged through the boundaries of his mind.

He fought his body's return to consciousness, cried out against the loss, the lack of completion. Flinging out his arm, he grabbed blindly for the phone beside the bed.

'Yes!' Even to his own ears his voice sounded harsh. He made an effort, softened his tone. 'Hello?'

'Daniel? Philip Weyburn. I'm sorry, I've just realised it's only seven a.m. there. I forgot about daylight saving. It's actually eight o'clock here in Sydney. I've just come into the office and there's a note from Stella with my flight bookings. I'll be arriving at the Sunshine Coast on Friday morning. Will you be able to meet me?'

Daniel pushed himself into a sitting position. Pain shot through his head and the aches in his body protested against the sudden movement. He sucked in an involuntary breath.

'Daniel? Are you all right?'

'Yes. I had a slight altercation with a four wheel drive yesterday. It didn't seem to think I should be walking on the same piece of road it wanted.'

'What are you saying? It hit you?'

'Not too hard luckily.'

'Did you report it to the Police? Did they arrest the driver?'

Daniel eased his legs off the bed, wondering if the ache between them would last as long as the aches in the rest of his body. He needed a long hot shower, a cup of coffee, and something to eat. Preferably in that order. 'No, they didn't catch him. I have to see them today about it. Philip, I'll call you back later, okay?'

'Sure, mate. Just look after yourself. Bye.'

With a sigh of relief Daniel replaced the phone on its cradle. Philip Weyburn was the last person he felt like talking to. As a partner in Brand & Weyburn Constructions, Daniel had decided it was time to look more closely into the company. The death ten days ago of Philip's father, Jim, had precipitated this trip to Australia. Although he sympathised with the younger man's loss, Daniel found Philip's ingratiating manner irritating.

At the moment he found everything irritating. Normally he would never sleep in this late. It must be the painkillers. He stood up. His head still hurt but the nausea and dizziness were gone. Looking at the ugly bruising that had formed on his thigh and hip, he gratefully acknowledged his luck that no bones had been broken.

He walked into the en-suite bathroom, easing the stiffness from his leg, and changed his mind about the shower. The spa bath in the corner was built for two, and he figured it would comfortably accommodate his height and breadth.

It wasn't as good as a massage, but the jets of bubbling water eased a lot of the aches from his muscles. He wished they could ease the confusion from his mind. Yesterday his hurt and his anger at Kirri had prevented him from thinking coherently about the situation. He found it impossible to believe that she didn't know who he was. All right, it was two years ago, and they had spent only three weeks together, but it was a very intimate three weeks. Had she had so many lovers that he was just another in a long, less-than-memorable line?

Damn! She couldn't be that good an actress. She'd been the most honest, genuine woman he'd ever met, and she appeared still to be that way. What the hell was going on?

The bubbles surged around him with the same lack of direction as his thoughts. Ten minutes later, he had finally decided he would walk down to the gallery and confront Kirri, when the doorbell rang. A few seconds later it rang again. The police didn't know where he was staying, so it couldn't be them coming to take his statement. Kirri? Doubtful. She'd said she would call around, but Kirri going anywhere this early in the morning wouldn't be the Kirri he knew. Even at nine in the morning she had been hard to rouse.

Annoyance stabbed through him as the doorbell rang again. He stepped out of the spa, hurriedly dried himself and wrapped the towel around his waist. He walked into the living room and opened the door.

'Kirri!'

He wasn't sure if it was the shock of seeing her, or the impact her clinging silk dress had on his already strung-out libido, but his voice had a harshness to it which made her flinch. A soft rosy tinge crept over her face and neck.

'I … I'm sorry. I obviously got you out of the shower. I can come back later.'

'No. No, it's all right.' She looked better in the flesh than she did in his dream, and his body cried out for hers with an urgency that shook him. 'It's … so early. I was surprised. Come in.' He gestured towards the lounge. 'Sit down. I'll just get dressed.'

As he turned towards the bedroom he heard Kirri's sharp intake of breath. He stopped, and looked back at her. She stared at him, her eyes wide.

'Your back … The scars …'

'A bear.' He was swept by a sense of deja vu that was only too real. They'd had this conversation before. 'One of her cubs had its paw caught under a fallen rock. I was lifting the rock to free it when the mother hit me. She must have thought I was trying to harm the cub.'

'Was the cub all right?'

The deja vu shifted. The first time, Kirri had asked how had he escaped from the mother bear. This time her focus had switched to the cub. Interesting.

'Yes. Just as the mother hit me the cub pulled free.'

'Luckily.'

Daniel shrugged. 'The mother bear would have tried to get the cub free if I hadn't been successful.'

Kirri smiled. 'I meant for you. I guessed the mother bear turned her attention to the cub, otherwise you'd have more scars than just one set of claw marks down your back. Was it a grizzly?'

'No. We only have black bears and brown bears around Seattle.'

'Again lucky for you. Grizzlies are twice as big.'

'How did you know that?'

Kirri's smile faltered. 'I … I'm not sure. Perhaps I read it somewhere.'

She turned towards the lounge, but not before Daniel noticed her hand rise to rub at the base of her neck.

As he zipped up his jeans Daniel wondered how Kirri would react when he demanded to know why she'd left him, and the nerves in his stomach fought his growing pangs of hunger. He walked into the living room. She wasn't there! A sudden, irrational fear flared inside him, only to be replaced by a terrible anger. Then he turned and saw her standing on the verandah, gazing out at the bay as though deep in thought. For a minute he stood and watched her, forcing himself to calmness, trying to drag his wayward emotions under control.

She must have felt him staring because she turned and looked straight at him. There was a sadness and a wariness in her eyes which took him by surprise. For a few seconds that felt like minutes she simply looked at him, then her expression changed, and it was the old, familiar, bubbly Kirri who walked towards him. Her pale blue dress was swirled with turquoise and green and it reminded him of the ocean in the way it curled around her legs as she walked.

'Have you had breakfast?' she asked. 'I could cook something for you, if you like.'

He shrugged. 'Beans on toast would be fine.' He waited for her to tease him about eating like a cowboy, like she had so long ago, but she only smiled, walked into the kitchen, and hung her shoulder bag over a chair. As he watched her move around the kitchen, finding the can of beans, filling the kettle, taking milk and butter from the refrigerator, his mind fought his emotions.

How could he reconcile the heartless manner in which she'd ended their relationship with the caring, guileless person she still appeared to be? What she had done to him was unforgivable, but with every minute he was with her he had trouble remembering the anger and hurt that had fuelled his every waking moment for so long.

'Have you had breakfast?' he asked abruptly.

She shook her head, the red curls dancing on her almost bare shoulders. 'No. I didn't feel like eating this morning.'

'You've lost -' He stopped, suddenly afraid to bring up the past, to see her reaction. 'You're too thin,' he amended. 'You should eat more.'

The fire in her hair seemed to flame in her eyes. 'I'm perfectly healthy!'

He spread his hands in a conciliatory gesture. 'I was only expressing concern, not criticising.' He watched the fire damp down. 'Have breakfast with me. I'd like you to.'

'All right. I'm sorry I bit your head off. I have a grandmother who is forever trying to feed me up, and I just get a bit sensitive.'

Daniel wanted to ask if the man she was living with also thought she was too thin, but his tongue couldn't wrap around the words. Instead, he took cutlery from the drawer and set the table on the verandah.

Kirri watched Daniel as they ate. She hadn't been sure what had made her come to see him this morning. Her concern for his wellbeing was only partially the reason. Now, she finally acknowledged to herself that he drew her like a magnet. There was something compelling in the intense vibes that encompassed her every time she was in his presence. Something that made her need to know more about him.

'How long have you been in Australia, Daniel?'

He chewed the last mouthful of his toast before he answered. 'A week. A business associate in Sydney had a heart attack and died and I came over for the funeral.'

'Were you good friends?'

'No. I'd met him a few times when he'd flown over to Seattle. He was a friend of my father's.'

'Did your father come out with you?'

'My father's dead.'

Daniel looked at her as though he expected some sort of a reaction, but Kirri was at a loss to know what he expected her to say. After a brief silence he continued.

'Jim Weyburn and my father were partners in a construction company in Sydney. When my father died, his half of the company passed on to me. Now that Jim's dead, his son Philip will inherit his share of the business, and I flew over to meet him as well as attend his father's funeral.'

'So now you're on holidays.'

'Sort of.' Daniel sighed, and Kirri had the distinct feeling that he would have preferred to have been able to say yes. 'Jim's death seems to have put Philip in a bit of a panic. I thought I'd have a look over the company books while I was here, but he's been putting me off. Said he has to have time to sort out his father's affairs and look after his mother. Two days ago he offered me this holiday house of theirs so I could take a break until he's ready.'

A magpie swooped down and perched on the verandah rail, cocking an enquiring eye at them. Kirri cut some crust off her toast and placed it on the rail close by. Cautiously, the magpie hopped closer until he was able to peck greedily at his prize.

She looked back to see Daniel staring at her, a strange expression on his face. 'Are you … Do you have family back in Seattle?' She mentally kicked herself. She'd almost asked him if he was married. It was suddenly important for her to know, but she didn't want to appear too interested. Even so, she felt her cheeks warm.

'No.' Daniel looked at her as though it was important to him that she knew he wasn't married. 'My only relatives are my mother's parents, and they live on a ranch in Wyoming. My grandfather runs it for a retired rancher.'

'Have you always been in the construction business?' No sooner had the words left her mouth than Kirri realised how many questions she had been asking. Normally she wasn't so inquisitive, but … She bit her lip. The attraction she felt for this man was startling not only for its newness, but also for its strength, and she felt a need to know more about him.

'Until my father died I was a park ranger.' Hell, Daniel thought, even that didn't bring a flicker of recognition from her. He was beginning to feel that he had stumbled into one of those weird television shows where you wake up in a parallel universe. Daniel's head had been aching before, but now it began to pound with tension and frustration. 'My father had logging and construction businesses, but he'd always hoped that one day I'd take over from him, so he insisted on teaching me about them.'

Kirri smiled. 'Rangers are into conservation and loggers cut down the trees. It must have been quite a switch for you.'

'It was at first. My grandparents are very attached to the land and they instilled their love of nature in me. I'd always felt that I'd rather work at preserving the forests than destroying them. Until I had to take control of my father's business, I hadn't really appreciated how well he worked within the restrictions placed on the logging industry.'

Daniel had a sudden mental image of his father, red plaid shirt and blue jeans splattered with mud, as he inspected the trees his men were logging. Even now he found it hard to believe that the big, vibrant man who'd taken him camping and fishing was no longer alive. It was only since his father's death that Daniel had realised his own passion for caring for the environment had been shared by his father. His father had respected the land and what it could yield as much as he'd cared for the welfare of his employees.

Kirri glanced at her watch. Daniel followed her gaze. Silver chain band, conventional face. A businesswoman's watch. Not the chunky adornment she had worn in New Orleans. Had the man she was living with bought her this new one? Jealousy surged through Daniel so fiercely his head began to pound harder.

'I'd better get to the gallery. Jenny might -' Kirri frowned as she looked at him. 'Daniel, are you all right?'

'Just my head,' he mumbled, wondering if he could cope with the emotional strain of confronting her now. Later, he decided. After he had the police interview out of the way. 'Could you give me a lift to the police station? I think I'd be a safety hazard on the road right now.'

'I'd be happy to.' The smile she flashed him was beautiful in its compassion and eagerness to please, and confusion and anger roiled up in him again.

'You fool!' The words hissed through the mobile phone at Brett Lewis. 'I can't trust you to do anything right, can I!'

'But-'

'What made you think you could get away with a hit-and-run?'

'It was just a spur of the moment thing. When I saw him crossing the street and I heard the Pajero's engine running I-'

'You were probably seen!'

'I had a hat, and sunglasses, and a towel around my neck. I looked like a hundred other surfers.'

'This woman you saw driving him back from the hospital, do you know who she is?'

Brett ran his hand through his glossy black hair. 'No. But she's turned up this morning as well. Does it matter?'

'Of course it matters! We have to know everything he does, everyone he's involved with. We have to plan carefully. In case you've forgotten,' sarcasm dripped like syrup from the disembodied voice, 'it has to look like an accident.'

With an effort Brett remained quiet. He'd long ago given up trying to defend himself against the barbs that slashed into his psyche. Silence was the only weapon he'd ever learned to use.

Finally the hollowness in his ear was replaced by a long sigh. 'This time just stick to what we'd originally planned. You have the key. Just do what I told you.'

The call ended. Brett tossed the phone onto the passenger seat. He'd learned long ago never to expect a word of praise, but he still resented the disdain in which he was held. He slouched down in the seat and watched the front door of Daniel Brand's house, resentment simmering through him.