Ran From Him (14 page)

In the morning, the business pages of the newspaper reported their engagement.

“Now, we’ll have to get you that ring,” Daniel said. In jeans and T shirt, he looked supremely male. He poured her a second cup of coffee.

Cate dropped the newspaper, aware she’d crumpled it. “Who told them?”

“Your dad? Rob?” He shrugged. “Maybe they guessed at the press conference? Forget it. There are other things to worry about.”

“Like what?” She looked up at him, suddenly wary. Her muscles ached pleasantly from last night’s loving, but daylight brought complications.

He slid onto a bar stool beside her at the kitchen bench. “Like your resignation from the Sydney paper. I’ve been thinking about it, and Matt and I rather pushed you into it. Could you get a month’s leave of absence instead?”

“With this story going around?” She flicked the paper and the report of their engagement. “My editor would definitely ask questions. An engagement with a time limit? Keep my job for a month, I’ll be back. Or should I tell him you’re planning to move to Sydney?”

Daniel nodded. “You can, if you want.”

Her eyes widened. “But you plan to go outback, return to your geology.”

He raised his coffee cup. “Your editor doesn’t need to know that. Besides, Sydney is as good a base as any.”

“Except that your family and responsibilities are here,” she reminded him.

“So? That’s true for you, too.” He finished his coffee. “All I’m saying is, don’t give up your job because Matt and I pushed you. Do what’s right for you.” He hesitated. “Last night you said love meant manipulation. It shouldn’t, Cate. True love gives freedom. It’s unconditional.”

She stared at him, feeling her heart pick up a jittery, panicked rhythm, and not from the caffeine she’d just drunk.
What was he saying?

“You’re forming a new, adult relationship with your dad. Don’t fall into old habits of trying to please him. Do what’s right for you.”

Her heartbeat steadied. Daniel was worried about her relationship with her dad. He wasn’t talking about love, not personally. She took a sip of coffee and forced herself to concentrate on the question.

What’s right for me?
Did she even know any more?

Forget the wider issue and concentrate on the question of your job
. She recalled the leap of excitement inside her when Daniel had mentioned tackling her idea for a second book. Working as a journalist at the paper had ceased to give her that sense of anticipation and satisfaction. Why not pursue her dream?

Her dad’s monetary gift meant she could afford a year researching and writing her book. She would interview Australians about what they called home. Rich people, poor people, immigrants, country, city, even those who carried their homes with them by caravanning. She would find out what made a home, where they gave their hearts, and by what gift they found a sense of belonging.

“I’ll do it.”

“Does that mean you’re requesting a leave of absence, or resigning?” Daniel observed her closely.

She smiled. “It means I’m resigning. I mightn’t have if you hadn’t suggested it.” And since when had she gotten stuck in such a rut? been so scared of daring something new? “But now that you have suggested it, I can’t resist. I want to write this book about ‘home’ and what it means for Australians.”

“I’m glad. I think you have a talent for writing from the heart which it would be a crime to waste.” He glanced down, then back at her, a flicker of uncertainty breaking through his warm approval. “If you need some money to live on while you write…”

“Dad’s insisted on a gift,” she broke in before he could offer her money. She knew it would be well meant, but she couldn’t accept money from him. It wasn’t simply pride. She didn’t want to complicate their already tangled relationship. She wanted to be acknowledged as an equal.

“I’d have offered a loan.” He seemed to read her mind. “My part in your brilliance. I don’t have a creative talent, but I respect it in others.”

She thought of his collection of Aboriginal art and nodded.

He smiled. “I’m glad you didn’t let pride stop you accepting Matt’s gift.”

“I realised that rejecting the money would have been rejecting Dad, in a sense. It’s his way of offering caring.”

“Money can protect those we love.”

The understanding in his voice took her back six years. He’d agreed to marry her for the money to save his company and through the company, to provide his mum and sister with security and comfort.

Back then, he hadn’t asked what she’d wanted. Her dreams would have been sacrificed to his mum and sister’s comfort.

Really, when she thought about it, this pretend engagement between them was yet another example of sacrificing her freedom to Amie’s dreams, in this case, her wedding.

She had to pretend a tie to Daniel just so—

Be fair
. Cate pulled up her thoughts. She’d agreed to the pretence because it also protected Rob and her dad. Daniel wasn’t using her. They were both protecting those they loved from disillusionment and conflict. They were co-conspirators. And lovers.

Old hurts ought to be forgotten. Cate was ashamed of her unfair thoughts. Daniel was a good man. He would never knowingly hurt her. Look how careful of her he was in bed. She smiled at him. “You have a strong protective streak.”

“I can’t help how I’m made.” A hint of colour flushed his skin.

“I’m not complaining.” She liked that he used his strength, of mind, body and spirit, to help others. She liked what he shared of himself with her. She reached out and touched his thigh, feeling the muscles flex under her hand. “But I’m glad that you’re free of some of your business responsibilities and can follow your own dreams.”

And with Amie and his mum both marrying, he really would be free. He had a new life waiting him.

“Will you go outback after Amie’s wedding?”

“Possibly.”

“Only possibly.” She grinned, teasing. “I think heading outback and avoiding the gossip of our second broken engagement sounds great.”

“You could come with me,” he offered casually.

For a moment she was stunned into silence. She withdrew her hand, and laughed, a little uncertainly. “I don’t think that would fit our story of a broken engagement.”

“We could delay the story.” He didn’t sound as if he cared either way. “See how your book outline unfolds, but if you want stories of outback homes, I wouldn’t mind company on a road trip.”

She struggled to digest the offer. She’d thought he would cut the ties between them after Rob and Amie’s wedding, that she would have to adjust to an uncomfortable ex-lover/distant friendship relationship. Instead, he seemed to be leaving the door open.

“I’ll think about it,” she said, striving to sound equally casual. But her blood pulsed. She had a sudden, disturbing vision of them making love under a star bright sky. Their skin would be cool from the desert night, except where they touched.

He nodded and stood. “You can use the phone in my study if you want to call your editor and resign. Will they accept that you don’t want to work out your notice?”

With an effort, she shook off the sensuous fantasy and brought her mind to practicalities. “My work’s either up to date or easily re-assigned, and there are a tonne of new journalist graduates who would slit throats for my job. I don’t think Patrick will mind my resignation. He’s probably read about our engagement and expects my phone call.”

She was right.

Patrick accepted her decision philosophically. “You can write like a journalist, but you’re too soft-hearted. When your book’s published, let me know and we’ll review it in the paper.”

It was a lovely vote of confidence. Cate thanked him, and typed up her formal resignation letter. She emailed it and stared a long moment at the screen.

Her bridges were burning behind her. She found she liked the heat.

“All okay?” Daniel stuck his head around the study door. At her smile, he walked in.

“Everything’s brilliant.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him with leisurely satisfaction.

He responded enthusiastically.

Enthusiastically enough that she whispered in his ear. “Remember my desk fantasy?”

He groaned. “I have the world’s worst timing.”

“What?” She pulled back to look at him.

“I’ve been speaking with a real estate agent. You know how Amie and Rob are having problems finding a house they both like?”

“Yes.” Cate definitely remembered the discussion at dinner last night. Even billing and cooing, the tension of house hunting had introduced a note of strain between Rob and Amie.

“I think I may have found the perfect house, but I want to see it before I pass on the address to Amie.”

“Fair enough.” She understood and shared his desire not to add any possible fuel to the sparks between Rob and Amie. “Are you telling me you’ve set up a viewing time for this morning?”

“Mmhmm. I hoped you’d come with me.”

She cast a mock-regretful glance at the desk behind them. “I guess I will, unless I can change your mind?”

“All too easily,” he said. “So be good.”

They collected a key from the real estate agency and drove out of the city centre, heading west.

Cate kept one eye on the clock, since one of Rob’s requirements was a house no further than fifteen minutes from his work.

At the very limit of that criterion, Daniel said. “Nearly there. Next street.”

She relaxed and looked around. The suburb was old and lovely even on a grey day. In one front yard she saw a young boy romping with a golden retriever that alternately licked him and beat him with its plumy tail. Both were in paroxysms of joy rolling in a sodden pile of raked leaves. She grinned. Wait till his mum saw the state of his clothes.

“Here we are.” Daniel stopped the car outside a rambling, red brick house. It looked to be a century old, built in the Federation style and beautifully presented. Around it tall trees were losing their leaves, spilling bright autumn colour into the surrounding cottage garden. “We can go inside. The owners have moved out, so the place is empty. We can take our time looking.”

“Especially since you shook off the real estate agent.” She grinned. She hadn’t liked the agent.

He’d been Daniel’s age, but pudgy with soft living and self-indulgence. He had recognised Daniel and slotted Cate into place as the newly announced fiancée, but it hadn’t stopped his sly gaze sliding over her. He’d been assessing her availability as much as he’d coveted Daniel’s wealth. Icky.

“The house isn’t listed with that guy.” Daniel apparently shared her opinion of him. “It’s with Jack Bronte, but he had another appointment and left the key for me. I said we’d be happy to show ourselves around since it’s empty. I think a house is better seen without strangers. Don’t you agree?”

He stopped and on the small front veranda swivelled her around so that she looked back down the front path.

Her breath caught. She could see the ocean. Under the grey clouds it looked sullen, but she could imagine the deep blue of its summer colours, its wild grandeur on stormy days, and the glory of watching the sun set over its endless horizon.

“Next stop, Africa.” She leaned back against him and ran her hands along his forearms. “I’ve always wanted a sea view.”

“This is a good one.” He rested his cheek against her hair, his warm breath curling around her ear. “You can just see Rottnest Island on a clear day—or so Jack assured me.”

He unlocked the front door and they went in.

The house was spacious, welcoming and expensively appointed. It had been extended and renovated, but so sensitively that the house retained its period charm. Cate particularly loved the master bedroom with its bow window, fireplace and an ensuite with a bathtub big enough for two people.

“Hedonistic.”

Daniel chuckled in lazy masculine appreciation. “Hedonism can be enjoyable, with the right person.” He didn’t touch her, but his heated glance stroked her body with the same effect.

For her, he was definitely the right person with whom to indulge. She could see herself lounging in the tub with him. Their bodies would be sleek and wet, slippery and heated with desire.

“Caty, you’re flushed.”

She didn’t risk answering, but skedaddled for the safety of the country-style kitchen. The sound of his laughter pursued her and she laughed too. Perhaps her sudden attack of shyness was ridiculous, but there was no disparagement, only indulgence and enjoyment in his laughter.

He followed her to the kitchen and leaned comfortably against an island bench. Despite the absence of furniture, she easily imagined the room filled with a family, laughter and love. In her mind’s eye she saw two blonde boys competing with one another, and banding together to tease and protect a little sister. Strangely, none of them looked like Rob or Amie.

“Do you like the house?”

“It’s beautiful. Anyone living here would be happy.” She touched the smooth marble of the bench top. It was a family home, designed to shelter a loving, laughing family. The sort of family she’d belonged to before her mum died.
Was that when I gave up my dreams of happy ever after?

“I hope so,” he said, responding to her comment. He opened the back door. “Have you seen the garden?” He ushered her out and kept his hand at her waist.

The sun came out from behind its curtain of clouds and they saw the garden at its best. Raindrops glimmered on roses and dripped from pink petunias. Drifts of white alyssum added to the romantic feel.

He tipped his head back and looked up at a tall jacaranda tree. “I always wanted a tree house.”

She looked at his distant, dreaming expression and made a discovery. “You want kids!”

“Some day.” He glanced at her. “I’d like to watch my son play football and my daughter learn to pirouette—or vice versa.” He grinned “I like kids. How about you?”

“I like them. I’ve not really thought about having them myself.” Except that lunchtime in the city when she’d wondered if she and he would have had kids if they’d married six years ago. “You’d have time for kids, now. You’re not driven to prove anything in business.”

“I’d always have time for my kids, and my wife.” He snapped off a stalk of lavender and gave it to her.

“Thank you.” She inhaled the old-fashioned romantic scent. Her muscles weakened as she recognised the desire in his expression. “Daniel?”

He smoothed her hair behind her ears and tilted up her face. He kissed the corner of her mouth, the other corner, and brushed his lips lightly back and forth, slowly deepening the kiss until their mouths fused. One large hand ran caressingly down her spine to rest at her hip, before he reluctantly pulled away. “It’s raining.”

She blinked as a raindrop landed on her nose. “I don’t care.” She tangled one hand in his hair and pulled him back down to her, stretching on tiptoe to arch and align her hips to his heat.

It was raining, but the sun continued to shine. The sun-shower dampened their hair and trickled down their faces. Cate wondered if it was possible to die of pleasure as she tasted the cool contrast of the rain against Daniel’s skin. She followed a trickle of rain down his throat.

“We have to stop.” His voice rasped. He trapped her hands. “Where this is going, isn’t possible in a suburban yard.”

Shaken and blurry with passion, she had to agree. She smiled crookedly. “We should be steaming.”

“Speak for yourself. I am.”

She laughed.

He handed her his car keys and gave her a gentle push. “Come on. You get in the car while I lock up. I don’t want to trail our wet bodies through the house.”

She followed the narrow brick path around the house, brushing against a rosemary bush which added its own share of water to her damp jeans. She decided she was so wet a little more didn’t matter and stood at the front gate, looking back at the house and then at its sea view.

Daniel wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “You’ll catch a cold.”

“From a little bit of rain? No way. It’s a beautiful house, everything a home should be.”

“Come into the car and tell me what a home should be. What will you write in your book?”

They sat in the four wheel drive with the rain curtaining them from the world.

She wiped her face with a tissue, while he used the sleeve of his shirt. “We’re making your car wet.”

“It’s built for it.” He turned towards her in his seat. “Tell me what home means to you.”

She looked at the house in front of them and tried to banish a feeling of wistfulness. “Home is where the heart finds healing, hope, comfort and joy. It is made by love. Otherwise, it’s just a place where you live.”

“Like my penthouse.”

“What? No.” She turned and looked at him. “Your penthouse is lovely.”

He shrugged. “It’s just a place to come back to. It gives me privacy and somewhere to store my gear, but I wouldn’t call it a home by your definition.”

“By my definition, my flat in Sydney isn’t a home either.”

“Maybe it’s time for us both to move on?” He stared at the rain running down the windscreen. “How do I build a home, Cate?”

She looked at his profile. He was strong and successful. Who would guess he had these dreams, wanted children and a wife, a happy home? The muscles in her stomach clenched.

When their affair finished, would he look for a permanent lover?

It wasn’t any of her business.

Her hands clenched and she consciously relaxed them, smoothing them over the damp denim of her jeans. “I don’t know how you build a home. It’s what Rob and Amie are trying to work out. Maybe it includes compromise, commitment? My mum built a home. Olivia’s doing the same with Dad’s house. Maybe all it needs is love.”

“And is love so simple?” His voice was low and rough.

She turned and looked at the rain. “No,” she said slowly. “Love isn’t simple at all.”