by Mandy Magro
‘Of course, towels are in the bathroom, underneath the sink.’ Pulling on a pair of boxer shorts he retrieved from a basket of folded washing, his eyebrows arched right before the slow sexy smile that had the power to send any woman to their knees claimed his lips. ‘Do you need me to come and wash your back?’
She fluttered her lashes coyly. ‘Maybe.’
‘In that case, breakfast can wait a little longer, and I’m at your beck and call.’
He closed the distance and scooped her up against him, bent his head, and then kissed her with so much passion she could barely think, barely stand. Curling her arms around his neck, she relaxed into him, enjoying the sensation of his firm body pressed hard against her own. And once again, the rest of the world, along with her secret, faded away, just like that, and she wanted him so badly, all of him, taking her, making her his, loving her in the way only he could. He was her sweet addiction, and she couldn’t get enough of him. Whatever this was between them shouldn’t be happening – not when she hadn’t told him everything he needed to know. But she was rendered speechless, helpless, by his deep kiss and his tender caress as she forgot about her shower and allowed him to press her back onto the bed again and make sweet, deep love to her.
* * *
It was close to sundown – the day had flown by in a haze of sensual ecstasy, way too fast. Logan found it hard to believe he’d basically spent an entire night and day in bed with the most beautiful woman he’d ever laid his eyes upon. As he watched her drive away, glad his efforts to fix her Jeep had worked as well as confirmed the reason her car had overheated was not caused by vindictive hands – one thing to cross off his suspicions list – the torment of thinking he might never get the chance to feel this with Nina, every single day, for the rest of his life, made it hard to breathe. She held his future happiness in the palm of her hand and he was on the fence as to what she was going to do about it, about him, about them. Was she going to follow her heart or her head? He prayed with everything he had that she would somehow come to her senses and realise they were meant to be.
No matter what, he’d remember every second of their lovemaking for the rest of his life – every kiss, stroke, bite, gasp, the way she looked when she toppled over the edge with him, so sated, so satisfied; all of it was everything to him. She was everything to him. If anything ever happened to her, if she left, he didn’t think his heart could take losing another love of his life.
After he showered, shaved, and grabbed hold of the reins of reality once more, he was going to give Vance a quick call to see if he’d gotten any further with the unregistered car. If he hadn’t, then damn the head honchos telling him to stay away for the entire six weeks of leave, he was going in to the station to investigate this himself.
Half an hour later, he was dialling Vance’s number. His mate answered after one ring.
‘Hey, Steele, have you got ESP? I was just about to call you.’
‘Hey, Vance, I wish I did, buddy, good news?’
‘Yeah, well, sort of.’ He drew in a quick breath. ‘I just had old Fred Gardner in here complaining about some odd bloke making house way out the back of his property. Says he’s parked an old caravan in the scrub and he drives a red Corolla.’
‘Holy crap, you serious?’
‘Yeah. Fred said he was gonna try and chase him off with his gun, but his wife made him come in and report it.’
‘Well, there you go, hey, thank god for small miracles.’
‘Yeah, you want me to go pay him a visit?’
‘Nope, you’ve helped plenty, Vance. You just leave the rest to me.’ Although he’d filled Vance in on a few of the things that had happened recently, he hadn’t told him about the big picture – that would come in time, once he’d done his own investigating.
‘You remember you’re off duty, Steele, which means you’re not meant to be acting out on official business?’
‘I don’t need a reminder. I’ll make sure I behave. In the meantime, though, let’s just leave Fred’s report unofficial business for now, okay.’
‘Righto, but don’t go doing anything stupid.’
‘Scout’s honour,’ Logan said with a small grin.
‘Uh-huh, let me know how you go.’ Vance sighed. ‘I’ll send you the mud map Fred drew me to your phone.’
‘Will do, and thanks, bud. Chat later.’
‘Catch ya, Steele.’
Logan ended the call and shoved his mobile into his jeans pocket. He was going to pay a visit to this ‘odd’ bloke. His instincts told him he might be the lowlife that had tried to pull Nina into his car all those years ago, the one standing at the back of Bea’s black-and-white photograph, the very one that was hanging around, way too close to home, for his liking – this bloke could very well be the man behind Nina’s recent frights. The one and only Grant Johnson. Visiting off the record was the way to go, for now, especially considering he had no evidence of anything untoward other than an unregistered car. Not enough to pin the bloke on – not when there was quite possibly a much bigger picture.
It only took Logan two minutes before he walked out of the house and was on his way through town, headed towards his final destination, with mud map in hand. It took another twenty-five minutes, down thin bush tracks and over two dry riverbeds, to get there. Pulling up out the front of the ramshackle caravan, surrounded by overgrown vines and shrubs with bits of rubbish scattered amongst it all, he heaved a sigh. A scrawny-looking dog was chained up to a tree, barking and baring its teeth – at the very least it had shade and a bowl of water. From the get-go, this bloke was the epitome of a prime suspect for harassment of innocent women.
He stepped from his LandCruiser and with long determined strides passed the red Corolla, sidestepped the dog, headed to the front door, and rapped hard.
A man opened the door, all scruffy looking, a towel wrapped around his waist. ‘Can I help ya?’
It was the very same man Logan had researched through the police database – lead after lead, from the photo Nina had given him, through his jail time, to now.
‘You Grant Johnson?’
‘That depends …’
Logan stifled a sarcastic smirk. ‘On what?’
Eyeing him guardedly, the bloke sucked air through his half-rotten teeth. ‘On who wants to know?’
Logan took a step forward, copping the stench of stale alcohol as he did. ‘I bloody do.’
The guy tried to puff out his grey-haired chest. ‘Bugger off.’ He gave Logan a shove and then went to shut the door in Logan’s face.
Steady on his feet, Logan put his hand up to stop it while laughing off the attempt to intimidate him. ‘I reckon you might want to have a little chat, or I could make life a whole lot harder for you than it already is.’ Logan did what he had to and pulled his badge.
Grant visibly changed tack. ‘Oh, right, you should’ve said so, come in, Officer.’ He stepped back and waved Logan inside. ’Scuse the mess – I would’ve cleaned up a little if I’d known I was going to have a visitor.’ He sniggered to himself. ‘I don’t get that many out here. A big reason why I live out in the sticks.’
The unkempt state of the van, the pile of dishes in the kitchen, coupled with the overflowing rubbish bin, the putrid scent of cats’ piss, and the piles of empty cans of beer and food wrappers had Logan fighting the urge to gag. It took every bit of resolve he could muster to even sit down on the tattered lounge chair.
Grant sucked in his stomach and tightened the towel around his waist. ‘You wanna drink?’
‘No, thank you, this will only take a few minutes.’
‘Righto then.’ Grant sat down in the opposite threadbare chair. ‘I thought this was public land?’ he quickly added.
Thrown off track, Logan took a moment to nod. ‘Yes, it is.’
‘So ain’t I free to live here?’
‘Well, yes and no.’
‘Well, is it yes or no, Officer,’ Grant said, with a slight smirk.
Grant’s smart-arse att
itude already grating on him, Logan drew in a slow, steadying breath. ‘Do you know a Miss Nina Jones?’
‘Nope,’ Grant spat, his gaze flickering around the room.
Logan sucked in another breath and shook his head. ‘It’d be in your best interest to stop bullshitting me.’
Grant folded his arms. ‘I’m not bullshitting ya.’
‘How ’bout this?’ Logan sat forwards and clasped his hands, his gaze steely. ‘I don’t believe you.’
Grant tried to stare him down, but with Logan’s stare unrelenting, he decided to stand and pace instead. ‘What the hell has that little bitch gone and told you?’
Getting somewhere now, Logan sat back, making sure Grant could sense his confidence. ‘The question is, what can she tell me about you?’
‘Nothin’.’
‘Well, then, you’ve got nothing to worry about.’ Grabbing his notebook from his top pocket, Logan pretended to write stuff down.
Grant stopped pacing. ‘What the hell are you writing?’
‘Nothing,’ Logan replied calmly, quietly.
‘Little bitch,’ Grant mumbled.
Logan looked up to catch a glimpse of the malevolence that lurked inside Grant Johnson. ‘Beg your pardon?’
‘I didn’t say a thing.’
‘Yes, you did, so speak up, so I can write down what you’re saying …’ Logan offered him a small smirk. ‘… for the record.’
Grant glared at him. ‘Get stuffed.’
Logan shot to standing, and in three strides had Grant pressed up against the wall. ‘I know you’ve been stalking her, you lowlife scumbag, and I know it was you who tried to pull her into your car that night I came across you and foiled your plans, all those years ago.’
Grant sneered. ‘Well, if you know all of that, why don’t you just go ahead and arrest me?’ Spittle flew from his cracked lips.
Logan tightened the grip on the man’s throat. ‘I’m not a police officer right now. I’m just a man protecting an innocent woman. If you go anywhere near her again, so help you god, you’ll be real sorry, you hear me?’
At Logan’s mercy, Grant nodded. ‘All right, I got you. Now let the hell go of me.’
Glaring at him, Logan held him tight for a few seconds longer before uncurling his fingers.
Edging away from Logan, his hand rubbing his throat, Grant sunk back into his chair. ‘I was just messing around with her that night, that’s all. No harm done.’
‘Yeah, right – I know you have a past with Bea, and I’m watching you like a hawk.’ Clenching his teeth in a bid to stop losing his cool again, Logan’s jaw muscles started to twitch. He tossed the black-and-white photograph on the table. ‘I reckon there’s a lot more to the story than what you’re telling me, so watch your back, because I’m hot on your bloody trail.’
Something incomprehensible flashed across Grant’s face, so fleeting, Logan didn’t have a chance to evaluate it. Grant leant forwards and plucked the photo from amongst the empty beer cans. He grabbed a pair of reading glasses from the table beside him and tugged them on. ‘Well, bugger me dead …’ He held the photo closer. ‘… Talk about old times; how nice of you to bring this to me.’ It was said with so much mockery every word hung thick in the putrid air.
Sick to his stomach, Logan stood and snatched the photo from Grant, tucking it back into his pocket. ‘I’d suggest you steer clear of Nina and Riverstone Ridge.’
‘Yeah righto, no need to get your jocks in a knot.’
‘I mean it, Johnson.’
Grant brought his beady-eyed gaze to Logan’s, his teeth bared like a rabid dog. ‘I got it.’ He gestured towards the front door. ‘Now get the hell outta my place.’
‘Gladly,’ Logan said with a sneer before storming out into the fresh air. He paused, spun on his heel. ‘And if I were you, I’d think about finding another place to park this heap of crap, or I’ll charge you with squatting’ – he pointed to the car – ‘and driving an unregistered vehicle.’
Steely silent, Grant slammed the door in his face.
Logan stormed towards his LandCruiser. There was way more to this disgusting bloke – he was going to do his damnedest to find out what it was. In the meantime, he was going to do his very best to keep Nina close by – that should prove fairly easy after the beautiful night they’d just spent together. Grant appeared to have heeded his warning, but with a man as immoral as he was, Logan knew he had to keep his eye on him.
CHAPTER
20
What the hell had she done?
It was a question Nina had asked herself hundreds of times over since salvaging her voice of reason at some ungodly hour that morning. Stomping up the garden path, she ran the message she’d woken up to through her head for what felt like the umpteenth time.
Good morning, beautiful. I missed waking up with you this morning. I hope you caught up on some much-needed sleep and feel refreshed. Would you like to come over tonight for that dinner I was going to cook you two nights ago? I hope so, because I can’t wait to see you, or kiss you, or touch you. Love you so much. L Xx
After taking hours to write a response, then absconding from the confines of the homestead before she’d gathered the courage to press send so as not to face up to Logan’s hurt for just a little while, Nina knew she couldn’t avoid it for much longer. Time was ticking. Grabbing her mobile phone from her pocket, she noticed three missed calls from him. She couldn’t blame him – she was being so hot and cold she was even confusing herself.
Saddened, she slumped down on the top step and read what she needed to say again.
Hey, Logan, I don’t know where to start, other than to say I’m deeply sorry. Please believe me, the last thing I ever wanted is to hurt you. The past two days have been a dream, and when I told you I loved you, I meant it, from the bottom of my heart. But it’s not as simple as you make it out to be, and I can’t just move back here and pretend my life in Brisbane never existed. There are reasons you will never know for why I can’t be here, and you’ll have to find a way to come to accept that. I’ll understand if you don’t want to see me for the rest of the time that I’m here. As much as it hurts me to think you may want to cut all ties with me, it’s a cross I will have to bear. I will always care for you, and love you. Nina Xo
Looking to where pink and grey galahs had gathered for a noisy chat in the towering jacaranda tree, she blinked back tears and sucked in a slow deep breath. She knew she was about to hurt the one man that meant the absolute world to her, and it tore at her heart, cutting him out the way she was about to, but what other choice did she have? She couldn’t blame him if he hated her. He didn’t know the truth – but then even if she wanted to tell him, she didn’t know the truth either, and there was no way for her to work it out. It was something she was just going to have to live with, as hard as that was. A quick trip to the loo, and she would sit down with a cuppa and make herself send the message.
Climbing the steps, she angrily kicked off her thongs and watched one flip through the air and land in the never-never of the bougainvillea bush that had been climbing along the latticework for generations. She knew there were thorns within the depths of it, lethal ones – she had tiny scars on her arms and legs to prove it. She’d brave retrieving the thong later, when she was in a better mood, or risk ending up a pincushion. Why, oh, why did she have to go and be so weak as to succumb to Logan’s magnetic charm? She should have known better than to even go there in the first place. He deserved so much more than she could ever give him. A relationship with lies and secrets was always destined to fail from the get-go.
One hand on the doorknob, she shoved the front door open and basically fell inside. Maxwell met her and almost knocked her over in a bid to get to the front lawn to do his business. ‘Oh crap, I’m so sorry, buddy – I thought you were out when I left.’
At her feet, an embellished envelope that had been slipped through the letter hole glimmered. Bending, she snatched it up, relieved she’d missed Uncle William – sh
e wasn’t in the mood for company, as nice as he was. Hauling in a deep breath, she wandered towards the kitchen in a half daze, only to be met by Tom, who coiled around her ankles, purring. She picked him up and snuggled him to her, while still staring at the letter in her hand. What was it going to tell her? And was she really ready for any more bombshells?
It was too bad if she wasn’t.
Slumping into a dining chair, with her legs dangling over the armrest and Tom nestled in her lap, she unfolded the notepaper and started reading.
My darling Nina-Jane,
Well, here we are – I’m so proud and happy that you’ve stuck it out. I knew you had it in you, to be strong enough to do this for me, and for yourself. Only a few weeks to go, and you can decide what it is you would like to do with Riverstone Ridge. Whatever you choose, I will smile down upon you – never forget this is your life, and you must live it the way that makes you happy. I hope that the break between letters is giving you the time and space you need to let what I am telling you sink in. I totally understand it’s quite a lot to fathom, and once again, I am so sorry I never got to do this in person. I find comfort in the fact I trust in the good Lord himself, and that this is how he wanted things to be.
I’m so excited to be telling you this, so I’m going to shoot straight to the point. As you know, your beautiful baby girl is a few months off turning twenty. I still remember the day you gave birth to her, Nina. Unconditional love was written all over your face, and I also remember the fearful look in your eyes when you had to say goodbye to her. You asked me to take care of the adoption, so I did. At the time, my cousin and her husband were having trouble bearing a child of their own, so I organised for them to adopt her, and they named your baby girl Brianna Rose. Their one condition was that I was never to tell you about them, or where Brianna was, until they were good and ready, and even then, it would be up to Brianna to decide if she wanted to meet you. My cancer changed all of that, and they’ve asked me to tell you about her, and where she is, as well as their contact details.
