Thirty Days: Part One (25 page)

Beautiful Stranger

Marcus wasn’t lying. The last three hours have been extremely emotional. I’m sick to my stomach and want nothing more than to get the hell out of here. Tutting and huffing, I slam the binder shut. Letters mix together in a ball of fury in my mind. The words of those impact statements cause me to sigh deeply from a now bruised heart. It’s all too much to bear. How am I going to sit in that courtroom and hear these people speak?

“I can’t,” I say under my breath, finding the door handle and pressing down hard. “I need to get out of here,” I whisper, stepping into the lift with hands curled so tightly shut, my nails press sharply into each palm.

The sound of the elevator dinging assures me that in a few seconds my feet will lead me out of here and into freedom. The sounds of these too expensive heels clop loudly, and as they meet the floor, my heart races faster.

“Abigail, where are you going?” sounds deeply, echoing around me.

I don’t answer, but instead I try to pick up pace.

“Abigail, stop,” Marcus commands, his tone packing a punch, and I halt.

Turning sharply, I stare into his eyes. “What do you need, Mr. Klein?”

“I’d like to know where you might be going, Miss McMillian.”

“Fresh air.”

“Are you okay?”

“I don’t think I ever will be again.” Peddling my body backwards, our gazes remain locked. His lips part, but I don’t stop moving as I await his words.

Thud!
My body hits the floor hard. My legs move in every direction and there’s an instant pounding in my head.

“Abigail! Shit, are you okay?” The words flow out with a hint of laughter entwined.

Slowly, I raise my arm and give a thumbs-up.
How embarrassing
. Opening each eyelid, I’m greeted by Marcus, who leans over me, looking down. His lips are curled upwards, yet are pressed firmly together as if trying to contain laughter.

“What just happened?”

“Well, you tripped over a potted fern and fell backwards into the side of the sliding doors.” The tight-lipped expression on his face relaxes and laughter erupts.

“Stop laughing at me, you arse, and help me up. God, did anybody see?”

His head shakes. “Well, actually, I guess security cameras,” he chokes out.

“Get that tape…go, go, and go.” I moan.

His arm grips mine, lifting my body with ease from the floor.

Pushing myself away from him immediately, I use both hands in an attempt to smooth my hair and to fix my skirt back into order.

“You are so clumsy,” he states.

“That obvious, hey?”

“Yes.” His laughter begins to settle and his expression becomes much more serious.

“So…I will bid you farewell, sir. My job here is done for today.” Nervously, I put more distance between us. “I can’t—”

“Abigail.” He lurches forwards. “Let’s find you a seat.”

“I’m fine. I’m just going to get some fresh air.”

“Come with me…you could have a concussion.” His hand grasps mine, but I shake it free.

“Please don’t.”

“Nobody can see us.”

“That’s not the point. You can’t just—”

“What?”

“Never mind, I just need some air,” I beg.

“You need to return to your office and talk to me.”

“You’re so bossy…you know that, right?”

“I prefer persuasive.”

“Nope. You’re just plain bossy.”

“Well, I am your boss. Now—”

“Correction, you are my boss for this week. That’s it.”

“Very true. Please let me get you some water and have you seated comfortably so we can make sure you’re okay.”

“By we you mean you. And by office, you mean the constrictive shoe box provided, right?”

He grins before splaying his fingers gently across my back, ushering me towards the lift.

“Stop touching me.” I wiggle to shake him off. A single chuckle annoys me as he follows behind. “I know you’re looking at my arse, so stop it.”

He says nothing, but I can imagine he’s smiling that big, beautiful smile of his.

The doors part, and we both enter. I take the corner and press my spine hard against the wall.

Marcus thumbs the button for level one and stands across from me with a weird smirk on his face.

What is he thinking?

There’s a screech, then a conking sound, and we’re jolted up, then down before the lift stops dead.

“One floor we had to go up one floor. Only one level and this thing shits itself.” Throwing my head upwards, I scream, “Why me? Seriously, why me?” As quickly as my head rose, it lowers. “You did this, didn’t you?” I snarl, outstretching my finger in accusation.

“Not at all.” Marcus’ hands rise up with palms out in defence. “This seems to be a malfunction. Someone will get to us shortly. Try not to panic, Abigail. Please tell me you don’t have a problem with confined spaces?”

I burst into a fit of laughter, allowing my body to shrink down to floor level. My legs stretch outwards as I continue to let out my frustration and anger in laughter.

“I get trapped in these things all the time. I’m fine with this, trust me.” The back of my hand brushes away beads of moisture from my eyes.

“This does not surprise me. The curse?”

“The one and only.”

Marcus presses a button and begins speaking, “Maintenance, Marcus Klein here. Myself and one other person are stuck between ground and floor one in the elevator. Could you please give an approximate amount of time it will take to get us out?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Klein, Oscar here, welcome back to Sydney.”

“Thanks, Okka, good to be back.”

“We are already working on the lift. It appears to be a power malfunction. Shouldn’t take too long to fix.” His throat is raspy, the voice of a long-term smoker.

“Thanks,” Marcus says before removing his jacket and settling down on the ground opposite me.

There is silence as I slip my arms out of my own jacket, laying it down before taking a long inhale.

“Now, now, don’t be greedy sucking in all our air like a hoover.”

I roll my eyes in response.

“Do you want to talk about it yet?”

“Nope,” I mumble.

“Are you always so stubborn?”

“Apparently. It’s what my mother tells me anyway.”

“I can see why.”

A comfortable silence resumes.

“This is a pretty rough case,” I blurt out.

“That it is.”

“I think I want to go home.”

His eyes narrow. “Okay, I can have that arranged.”

“Good.”

Marcus sits there staring at me. I wonder what he’s thinking about. His expression doesn’t give anything away. It’s a blank canvas. Suddenly, he jumps to his feet before edging closer and closer, until he kneels beside me.

“What are you doing?”

His fingers skim my cheek in a feather-light touch as he brushes my hair behind my ear.

“Marcus, stop.”

“I’m just checking your head to make sure you’re okay. Here, lower it so I can take a look.”

“I promise I’m fine.”

“Well, then it won’t hurt for me to look, now, will it?”

“I suppose not.”

His fingers bury themselves into the thick layers of my lightened locks, pressing gently as he locates a tender bump. “We have a lump here. It’s not too big. Does it hurt?”

“It’s a bit tender, but I’ll survive.”

“Something tells me, Abigail, that you have many battle scars and that you’re an unwavering fighter.”

I’m instantly shocked.

“Who’s Mike and why are you so angry at him?”

Shifting uncomfortably, I steel my instant surge of nerves and press down on his arm until it drops away from my head. Marcus’ eyes track my every move as I manage to stand with my heart physically ripping into two.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers as he towers in front of me.

Tears begin straining at my eyes.
I will not cry.

“I’m sorry for whatever he did to you.”

“I need space,” I say with a dry tongue.

“And I need you, Abigail, here with me, helping me through this case. I know you’re strong enough to handle this. Please don’t leave me. I need you to help me.” He caresses my arm with such tenderness, that even though it leaves behind goose pimples, it also tells me that deep down inside this beautiful man there is a person who needs
me
.

“Why me, Marcus?”

“Because it was always supposed to be you.”

Instant confusion.
“How? I don’t know you. I’ve only just met you.”

“You do know me, Abigail, and in time you’ll remember.” Grabbing my wrist, he pulls my hand to his cheek and places my fingers against his skin. The small raised scar falls beneath my touch.

“I’ve seen this scar before, haven’t I?”

“You have.”

“Tell me how.” My eyes beg him to offer an explanation, which only causes Marcus to sigh heavily.

“That I can’t do. You need to remember on your own. I promised. Just know that my heart will always find you.”

“Promised? Who did you promise? Find me? What?”

“Yes, Abigail. It’s such a shame that your eyes have lost their sparkle. They are so much more beautiful when you’re happy. You have the prettiest eyes I’ve ever seen.”

“Well, you have a pretty mouth. But I wish you’d learnt to shut it more often because I’m so confused right now that I’m suffocating in here. Please get away from me.”

One, two, three steps back is all it takes until Marcus is standing at the other side of the elevator.

“Well, hello, you two,” a bald and sun wrinkled man says, looking down at us as the doors part. “We’re going to pull you up. We still haven’t been able to get this thing to move, but we can get you out.”

“Oscar, good timing,” Marcus says, grabbing his jacket from the floor and passing it to him through the gap. “Move aside.” He instructs before placing his hands on a ledge and pulling himself upwards until his legs slide completely through.

“You’re a strong lad,” Oscar says as I watch Marcus dust his pant legs.

“Your turn, Miss McMillian.” Marcus kneels and reaches his long arms through the gap. Slipping my jacket back on, I lift my arms up. My body is lifted out with ease, and before I know it, I’m on my feet being held securely in Marcus’ arms.

“I think we should get you back to the manor.”

“You think?” I scold, rearranging my skirt.

“You’ve always had such fire.” He chuckles as I begin stomping towards the emergency stairs on the first level.

How the hell does he know me?

Fighter

“Are you okay?” I can sense Marcus’ desire to comfort me as he stands by my outstretched feet.

“Fine.”

“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” The river glistens with the late afternoon sun as I lie on a pool lounge looking towards the jetty.

“It’s peaceful.”

“I have to go to that dinner now…you’re sure you don’t want to come?”

“No, thank you.”

“I’ll be back about nine, okay?”

“Okay,” I reply softly, shifting so I can see past the sun’s glare. Instantly, I’m met with darkening eyes, a grey suit, and hair that’s been tamed. He’s so damn beautiful. “Come here,” I beckon, swallowing hard.

Marcus moves to my side as I sit upright.

“Bend down,” I demand. His eyes widen with surprise as he does. Shaking fingers reach up, straightening his lopsided blue tie at the knot. “Much better.” My voice is almost inaudible.

Smiling, his cheeks press upwards as his eyes narrow.

Taking my still trembling hand, I cup it gently against his warm cheek, allowing my thumb to brush back and forth across his scar. “What you said today, do you think I’ll remember?”

He nods slowly, never taking his eyes from mine.