Swerve.epub

by Amarinda Jones

They were spaced ten feet apart. One door went from floor to ceiling and had a standard round metal knob. The other did not. It was a half door. It started at the top and stopped waist height for a man and the knob was rough, metal and battered as if great force had been applied to it. Anyone passing by, if they had cared to look and wonder at the difference between that two doors, may have pondered at the reasoning of the half door. Swerve wondered how many hands had touched that battered handle, turned the knob and were never seen again.

  He blew out a breath and ran his hand through his dark red, shoulder length hair. He had forgotten how humid the tropical heat of Cairns could be. He reached into the back pocket of his red Billabong board shorts and pulled out a leather cord, trying it around his hair to get it off the back of his neck. He contemplated his options. Turning the knob on the half door would answer a lot of questions. “But what would it release? And where would it take me?” Swerve was not one to fear the unknown. However the thought of getting sucked into what he suspected was a powerful vortex and not being to get back again was pointless to what he was trying to achieve.

  He placed his palm on the painted surface of the door. It was as he expected.

  Cold to the touch. Everything else in the tropics was hot and sticky yet this half door was not. “Bloody time lords.” Swerve loathed them. As far as he was concerned time lords were not at all like the charming and quirky Dr Who of television fame.

  Time lords were dangerous meddlers who travelled from world to world and cared little for others. Their lives were dedicated to the pursuit of adventure, uncaring what happened when their peccadilloes affected the rest of the world. Which they did. A lot. As for time lords trying to make him and others believe they did it all in the name of science? Bullshit. They did it for the treasures and the power they could amass.

  “What to do?” Swerve muttered to himself. A time portal was dangerous thing to be left out in the open in a public place like this. If it was a less than public place he would have set an explosive charge to it and blown it up like he had done to others. But this portal? That was not possible and he wasn’t about to cause fear or harm anyone in his need to rid his world of time lords.

  He contemplated gluing the door shut. That would work as an interim measure until he could consult others of his kind into the best way to handle this. While it annoyed him not to be able to think of a quick, effective solution, he wasn’t arrogant enough to think he knew everything. He didn’t. There were things in the universe that defied even Swerve.

  From the same back pocket Swerve pulled out his cell phone and dialed in a number. “Yeah, Jim, it’s a portal.” He listened intently to the other man. “No. It’s way too public for a detonation.” Swerve’s gaze wandered over the half door. “No, I went under the gap in the door—well, you knew I would—and there was nothing.”

  Swerve dropped to his haunches before the door and waved his hand under the gap.

  “I may have to go through it. Yes, you know I’m aware of the consequences. No, I expect he won’t be happy to see me but Sholto rarely ever is happy to see anyone.”

  Swerve listened to his colleague and thought about Sholto. He was the worst of the time lords and word had it that he was in Cairns. That meant trouble. Big trouble. That was why Swerve was in town. That and other things. He wanted to track Sholto down. He was honor bound to do so. The time lord was hurting a lot of people by his reckless actions and Swerve wasn’t about to let that continue. The problem was Sholto was hard to catch. He knew more ways to disappear than Swerve and his compatriots had managed to work out. They had to bring Sholto to heel and have him transported somewhere he wouldn’t cause trouble. Doing that to a time lord was always perilous. They had lost a few of their own doing exactly that.

  “We need to speak to Socia,” advised Jim over the phone. “If anyone would know where Sholto was it would be her.”

  Swerve nodded. Socia Black was an interesting person. She always knew everything before anyone else did. While her information was consistently solid, Swerve was always wary of her. Why? He’d never been able to say. Maybe it was because she knew too much. Maybe it was those black fathomless eyes of hers that drew you in but refused to reflect back what their owner was thinking. Maybe it was the rumor that she was of the mythological Siren race of women who tempted men to their deaths. Was she paranormal? He didn’t know. That she was dangerous, Swerve didn’t doubt. He just wasn’t sure if it was to him, their enemies or herself.

  Swerve stood up and looked around him. If anyone thought it was odd his fixation on the door they didn’t say. Cairns was like that. People were laidback and casual. He suspected he was viewed as just another backpacker and that suited him.

  The town was full of traveling souls looking for adventure in paradise.

  “Jim, I’m going to—” Swerve stiffened suddenly and nearly dropped the phone.

  It was like a bolt of lightning had charged up his spine and set his whole being alight. He closed his eyes and savored the rush. It was her. He could feel it. “I have to go. Yeah man, I’ll call you back when I’ve had more time to think about it.” He smiled. “Come on, Jim, me do something stupid?” Swerve was not surprised by his colleague’s words. He had done some rash things in the past. But that was then.

  Now, he had the future to deal with and it was walking towards him on size eight Doc Martens. “Talk to the others and let me know what they think.” Swerve snapped off the phone and turned to face the woman he knew was walking towards him unaware that they were each going to change the other’s life.

  He smiled as he watched Mary Dalton move with a purposefulness he saw in few people. He suspected if anyone got in her way she would have coolly told them to get out of it. He knew all about Mary and what he knew he liked. A lot. From the top of her mid brown hair to the non-office approved Doc Marten boots that stopped her boring blue plaid work shirt and navy pants from looking too frumpy, she was the woman he wanted. “I cannot wait to get to know her better.” His gaze roamed her face taking in the thin sheen of sweat on her upper lip and the clever brown eyes that he suspected saw everything but revealed little. He liked that in a woman.

  Unraveling a mystery was fun. And this one? If the keenness of her mind matched the enticing curves of her voluptuous body, Swerve knew he would never let this woman go. It would be beyond his will to do so.

  He waited until she was level with him and smiled. Her eyes narrowed then opened wide as if she was remembering something, He felt her gaze on his hair and shoulders. Yeah. She remembers me.

  “Hey, beautiful lady. I’m a wayward traveler on the crooked path of life and I’m looking for a woman to share my riches with me.” His airhead, dopey sounding alter-ego came naturally to his lips. He used that to disarm and confuse people. It was better than a cloak and it threw people off the real reason he was with them.

  She stopped and looked at him coolly. “Bollocks.”

  Yeah, Socia was right. This one is mine.

  Chapter Three

  Great, the guy with the hot ass is a pot-headed, surfer dude. While Mary had nothing against surfers, the word ‘gnarly’ was not in her vocabulary. As for drugs?

  Nope. Life was a reality trip enough without mind altering substances. “Excuse me,” she said as she started to move past him. Mary had mail to pick up and drop off and standing in the heat wasn’t something she wanted to do.

  “Bodacious babe, I love thee.”

  Mary rolled her eyes. “Of course you do.” She looked into his bright green eyes. The intensity and intelligence in those depths belied his words and demeanor.

  That was weird. She remembered the man from the beach. They were one and the same and yet this man was not as she thought he would be. It was like something was missing or added on to confuse and intrigue her. Few men did that.

  “Come ride with me to Camelot and be my queen.” He reached out and took her hand.

  Mary shrieked at his touch. It wasn’t just the fact that an unknown man had
taken hold of her hand that shocked her. It was the sudden surge of electricity that shot through her arm. Her whole body felt like it was on fire. Her gaze locked with his. The look he gave her made Mary start to shake with a feeling of long-held suppressed need releasing from within her. She staggered slightly and tried to pull away. He held fast to her. Normally Mary would have yelled and fought to be free of him. But this was not normal. This was something else she couldn’t define. “I—

  er, um—”

  “Words in my world are not necessary my, love. My chariot awaits you.” He pointed to a black Triumph motorcycle. “Let us away to make a paradise of our own.”

  Mary tried to pull her hand from his. It felt melded to his flesh. His hold was firm but not punishing. “I—you—” She was not normally a blithering idiot bereft of words but with this man? Nothing would come out. Maybe I’m the one on drugs?

  “You need to let go of me.” Even as she said the words a rush of feeling against them rose up within her. Maybe it’s the heat making me crazy?

  “Once caught I never throw back, Mary.”

  “How do you know my name?” First at the beach and now. She had no name badge on.

  “It’s written in the stars.”

  “Did I mention bollocks before?”

  “Bollocks did come up.” He smiled at her.

  Mary caught her breath. Lordy, he is beautiful. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Your knight in shining armor, ready to chase way your dragons and live with you in a palace of our own making.”

  “Riiiight…” Mary looked at his board shorts and his black tight-fitting muscle shirt. She could see the edge of a tattoo licking out over one shoulder. The red hair tied back had a knightly look to it but palaces and dragons? Nuh-uh. When it came to a man, Mary didn’t want or need wealth or beauty . Sanity would be good though.

  “Well, that’s nice and if I’m ever on your planet and need saving I’ll certainly look you up, er—”

  “My name is Swerve.” He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.

  Mary was agog. Normal instinct would have had her giving him a tongue lashing but all she could do was stare at him in wonder. Who is he? Why do I feel like I know him? She shook her head and cleared her throat. “Of course it is.” Her hand was suddenly released from his. The sudden loss of pressure almost made her stumble. It was like being pulled from a vacuum. Mary shivered despite the heat. “I, um, have to go and do grown up stuff.”

  “Your path and mine will meet once more, lovely Mary.”

  Lovely Mary. Wow. “That was you at the beach wasn’t it?” There couldn’t possibly be two men like this.

  “Why question when you know the answer, my queen?” He grinned. “Wanna see tatts to make sure though?”

  “I’d rather see your as—” Mary stopped herself, her face went red as he smiled at her almost said words. Seeing this man’s ass could only get her in trouble.

  Undoubtedly fun, hot trouble but still trouble. She didn’t have time for that. She had to find Simon bloody Mayhew. “Okay then, I really have to go.” What were the probabilities of an insane person having a great ass? Now I should take him to the wedding and drive my mother crazy. Mary had endured three phone calls and two emails from her mother so far this morning about making sure she found a man.

  “So go, my beloved babe.”

  The weird thing was Mary wanted to go. She had to go. Yet, she couldn’t make herself go. It was like if she did she would be missing out on something.

  “You feel the urgency between us too.”

  “I feel nothing,” Mary said too fast to be believable.

  He nodded. “I understand. Love is a difficult emotion.”

  The sudden seriousness in his eyes threw her. “Is it?”

  “Yes, but worth it. When I was born, a gypsy queen decreed I would be yours and one rarely doubts Romany.”

  Right. A gypsy. Okay. Serious moment over. “It must be so nice being crazy.”

  He took no offense. “I would happily teach you the art in my palace by the sea.”

  Which translated to come back to my eight bed dorm with sweaty clothes, sweatier men and hot and cold running women. “Maybe another time.” Mary made herself move on which she found she had to put effort into. He was a stranger and certainly stranger than most and yet she wanted to stay with him. She almost started to look back at the man yet stopped it, telling herself not to do so because if she did it would change everything and she wasn’t sure if she was ready for that yet. Mary scoffed at the thought as she pushed open the door to the air conditioned mail centre. “Get a grip, will you woman.”

  Swerve smiled to himself. That had been fun. Mary had come across as a straight laced no nonsense women who had things to do and being waylaid by him was the last thing she needed. Yet he knew she felt something deep and intense when they touched. She had not been able to hide the spark of surprise and fear in her eyes that confused her. He watched the womanly swing of her plump ass as she disappeared inside the building. “I am going to waylay the hell out of you, Mary.”

  * * * * *

  The last place Simon Mayhew wanted to be was at the office of Man-Land. But he knew he had to show up and make an appearance and settle the unrest that was in the minds of the small company that had been swallowed up by his conglomerate in the takeover. Simon cared nothing for business. It was what it was. He was good at making money. The money he used on the projects that mattered to him, the ones that helped people. As corporate identities went, he was anything but one. However, he understood there were times he couldn’t leave his business interests to those he paid good money to manage. Every so often he had to make an effort and show up, shake hands and play the boss. He looked at the façade of the small office. It looked tired and outdated and he knew it was not profitable to keep such a small business running. It would have to be closed. From the reports he received, it was losing money hand over fist and the employees, but for one, were doing very little to stop that trend.

  Simon pushed through the door and into the office. He smiled as the office manager came out from her office.

  “Holy fucking hell,” exploded from Mary Dalton’s lips.

  Her response delighted Simon. It was perfect. It told him everything about the woman. Unpretentious, said what she felt, and passionate without worrying about consequences. “Hello Mary.” He walked toward her, his hand outstretched. “I’m Simon Mayhew.”

  “You.”

  “Me.” Instinctively, Simon was aware she was scared to take his hand. He knew she had felt the power between them before. It was something so raw and need driven that he wasn’t surprised she was reluctant to touch him again. He stepped closer and reach down for her hand. It had been clenched at her side in a fist. He wrapped one hand, then the other, around it and felt once more the amazing power of the women warm him body and soul. Was she aware of the intense power she radiated? Did she have any inkling how intrinsically their lives would be bound?

  Yes, he could feel she was turned on by him as he was her. But does she know we’re destined to be in love forever?

  To say Mary was gob smacked was an understatement. This was the man with the ass. Swerve—the surfer dude from the post office who talked of palaces and gypsy queens. In her office. Making her body shake at his touch. This was Simon Mayhew? Her boss? The man that owned half of Australia yet who dressed in board shorts, rode a motorcycle and pretended to be someone else? What the hell? “I—

  well—I probably shouldn’t have said ‘holy fucking hell’ but I’m not taking it back.”

  His appearance had thrown her. He was the last person she expected to see.

  Simon laughed. “Nor would I have wanted you to.”

  A man with sexy green eyes filled with amusement and a grin that would lead a nun to sin was in her office. With her. “Who are you?”

  “I just told you, Mary.”

  “Yes, yes, you own this place but why the split personalities?” What was the story
there? Who did that without reason and what was his?

  “Don’t we all have those?”

  Mary looked down at the hands that held hers. Her fist had flattened out and was encased by his two strong hands. It felt right and good and yet, all the same, she wanted to run away from him because what she was feeling was scaring her. It was not normal to have such intense emotions over a stranger.

  “You feel it, too, don’t you?”

  Yes. Who am I to you? “I feel like you’re playing a game with me.” No wonder he knew her name. Undoubtedly he had seen her staff file and seen the rat-shit photo personnel took that made her look like a deranged woman with fifteen years still to serve on her jail sentence. There was nothing karmic in that. Mary tried to pull her hand from his. She needed to clear her head and touching him wasn’t doing it.

  “I never play when it’s important, Mary.” Simon let go of her hand reluctantly.

  “I better get the boss.” Vernon could deal with him. She wasn’t high enough up the food chain to do that.

  “Aren’t you the boss, Mary?”

  “I should be.” The twinkle of amusement she saw in his eyes made her heart jump in excitement. Oh, what the hell, it was not like this was a conventional meeting after the past couple. “I would be better at running this place but I suspect you’re going to close the office so the point is moot.”

  “Yes, you would be and yes I am,” Simon agreed. “How do you feel about that?”

  “I’ll get by.” And she would. Besides, it would give her mother something extra to moan about. No man, and now no job. She could almost hear her mother now.

  What will become of you Mary?

  “Will you?”

  “Yes.” Defiance was better than whining at fate. Jobs came and went and life still went on.

  “Do you ever need help from anyone, Mary?”

  “No. Vernon!” She yelled, now aware that the whole office had heard what they had been talking about but they were too scared to acknowledge their existence in case they had to be answerable to someone. Yep, I won’t miss this place.