Impossible Liaison

by Anne Ashby

  He had two weeks before Bess would be home. If he was right about Zoe, then those two weeks would be used to collect ammunition, and get her out of the house. Presenting concrete proof to Bess would hurt her, but it was inevitable she’d have to accept his results.

  He made plenty of noise re-entering the house.

  Zoe showed no signs of guilt at almost being caught out.

  “You’re home early.”

  “Yeah, there’s nothing much happening today. George set me free seeing it was Bess’s last day. I forgot it was her afternoon at Citizens’ Advice.”

  Connor was amazed how innocent her expression could be when she was planning who-knew-what. “Oh, I thought I heard you talking—”

  “Talking? No, I wasn’t talking to anyone.” Zoe cut in quickly, too quickly. Then she gave a halfhearted laugh, “Bess isn’t here.”

  “I assumed you were on the phone.” Connor managed to instill a disinterested tone.

  “No, you must have been hearing things.” She turned to the sink and filled a glass of water before about-facing with an attempt at a self-conscious laugh. “Oh, you might have heard me singing.”

  He was almost taken in by her infectious grin.

  “I’m not very good, I’m afraid.”

  Hoping his shrug appeared casual he tried another track. “You’re working long hours, starting so early in the mornings.”

  “I need the money.”

  He waited to see if she’d mention cutting down her hours tomorrow, starting late. The first ferries ran at six. Is she meeting this bloke then, or in the evening? He’d have to be ready in the morning, in case.

  Connor nodded when Zoe gestured to the coffee pot and slipped into a seat at the kitchen table.

  “Have you had a busy day?”

  There was no reason not to tell her. “I learned a colleague broke his leg the other day so I’ve taken up a locum position at Starship for a few weeks until he’s fit again. Didn’t you tell me I needed something to do to fill my days?” A surge of triumph coursed through him at her wince.

  Momentarily speechless, Zoe finally murmured, “I’m sure they’ll be pleased to have another doctor available,” before excusing herself and disappearing up the hallway, her coffee cup in hand.

  Connor stared into his own coffee, pleased he’d given nothing away. She had no idea he’d seen right through her little escapade.

  Tomorrow he’d catch her at her own game.

  Chapter Six

  “I’m off out.” Zoe breezed into the lounge where Connor was trying to appear engrossed watching the news. “I’m picking something up for Bess,” she continued blithely. “She said to use her car.”

  Goaded by her blatant lie, Connor’s lips tightened before he reminded himself he must disguise his annoyance lest she become suspicious.

  He looked at her lazily, allowing his gaze to travel the length of her body. Her jeans and tight top were similar to what many women wore every day, but his reaction to the perfect molding of her curves inside them startled him.

  He dragged his gaze away from her breasts, hoping he’d contained his quick intake of breath. Although his libido had sparked, she wasn’t dressed for a romantic rendezvous. Unless she has some other clothes in that bag? It’s big enough to hold some skimpy outfit.

  His body stiffened, annoyed beyond reason. She was a lousy con artist, preying on other people’s weaknesses. Well I’m not weak; she’ll never get the better of me. He was, however, concerned about his grandmother.

  “I won’t be home tonight.”

  He sat straighter, muting the television. Didn’t take you long to show your true colors. His suspicions were dead on. Acting all wholesome and pure while Bess was around, but the second she was out the door, Zoe was spending the night with someone.

  “Where are you going?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth he wished he could grab them back.

  Her astonished smile made him feel gauche.

  “In case I need to get hold of you, if something should happen…” he stumbled, trying to find reason.

  “I don’t think you’re going to want to get hold of me, Connor.”

  Her knowing smile, as she swung the bag onto her back and left the room, set his teeth on edge. She was wrong. He wanted nothing as much as to get hold of her, put his hands around her scrawny neck…

  As the automatic garage door closed and the Mercedes reversed down the driveway, Connor leapt up. Snatching his keys from his bedroom, he prepared to follow Zoe. A sour taste filled his mouth.

  Ignoring the gut knowledge he was invading Zoe’s privacy, he reminded himself of Bess’s well-being. My need to protect Gran justifies my actions. Hell, maybe her whole home was at stake. No one was going to rip Bess off while he was around.

  He’d have to be careful. Although there would be plenty of traffic around the ferry buildings at this time of day, with hundreds of commuters still spilling out from the central city, she might notice his car.

  Obviously they were driving somewhere, or else why take Bess’s car? He parked halfway toward the naval base, where he could still keep the Mercedes in his sights.

  Drumming his fingers against the steering wheel, Connor watched Zoe pace up and down beside the car. Her gaze flicked between the ferry approaching the wharf and the surrounding car park.

  Connor couldn’t decide whether she was nervous or excited. Her agitated movements suggested heightened anxiety. Her fingers periodically threaded through her hair making the tufts stand on end even more than normal.

  As passengers began exiting the building, instead of stepping forward, as he expected, Zoe got back into the car.

  Connor frowned, rubbing his eyes before refocusing them on the blue car.

  At this distance he couldn’t tell whether the man who jumped into the car was Maori or a Pacific Islander. He’d long dreadlocks under a black baseball cap and a mass of tattoos adorning his arms, but Connor missed anything else.

  Fear for Zoe, stark and vivid, flashed through Connor. Jerking the key, his car roared, as in haste he jammed on the accelerator before slipping it into gear. He cursed the years without driving that had dulled his reactions. As he slammed the gearstick into drive his hand stilled, his fingers clenching around it until they turned white.

  Zoe was in a clinch. She hadn’t been overpowered by some thug and thrown out of the car. She was kissing him.

  Curses fell from his lips. He smashed the gearstick back into park and thumped the steering wheel. What the hell is the matter with me? The little bitch is a low-down fraud. Why am I looking for the best in her? He thumped the wheel again. I’m a good judge of character, I was dead-to-rights about her. So why don’t I feel vindicated?

  Connor’s stomach clenched as the two figures in the car were now in what appeared to be animated conversation. His fury quieted to a slow burning rage as the Mercedes accelerated out onto the street.

  He followed, keeping a safe distance, allowing other cars between them, but never letting the blue car out of his sight.

  Where will she take him? Would they drive by Gran’s house, casing it out? They wouldn’t stop, because she thought he was home, but driving by would show this man the neighborhood.

  Perhaps he’ll do a few burglaries, as well as grabbing the easy pickings from Gran’s home. Connor’s fingers were white on the steering wheel as they headed around the waterfront toward Cheltenham.

  He hung back, certain they’d turn into Bess’s street, only to frown in confusion as they headed down another small side street instead. Aware he could easily lose them as they weaved around the suburban streets Connor tried to remain innocuous as he dogged their route.

  For fifteen minutes a baffled Connor followed as they continued driving in and around Devonport, going nowhere. He lost them near the rear entrance to the naval base.

  Tearing up and down the streets between restored villas he had to concede the blue car had disappeared. Frustrated, he jammed on the brakes and dropped his head back
against the headrest.

  He’d achieved nothing. He knew no more than he’d known before, except she’d met some lowlife and kissed him.

  He closed his eyes, rubbing the excruciating pain throbbing across his forehead with his fingers. He tried to maintain the anger, even as her face swam before him—looking as she had the other night. While he shared some travel stories, those uncannily familiar blue eyes had never left his face. She’d hung on his every word. Talking with her had been wonderful, invigorating.

  That had also been an illusion. His fingers continued trying to ease his headache.

  Heaving an annoyed sigh, he set the car in motion toward home. Taking a short-cut, to avoid the busy main street, Connor didn’t know what made him glance up the access road to Mount Victoria. Slamming on his brakes, he swung his car around and through the narrow gates before creeping upward around the extinct volcano in pursuit of a blue Mercedes.

  Halfway up the steep incline, he pulled into a parking area, not daring to continue. They could have parked in any of the little parks instead of continuing to either of the two main areas at the summit. His car would be impossible to hide up there, but on foot he could ensure he wasn’t seen.

  He jumped out and, taking a deep breath, headed up the steep side of the hill, weaving around the bushes until he found a track forged by sailors from the naval base who used this hill as part of their endurance training. Even the short distance caused Connor’s muscles to scream in protest as he scrambled up the sheer slope.

  Falling to his knees just short of the top, more self-disgust rolled over him as he prepared to search around the summit from behind a large tuft of grass. His breath caught in his throat as he spied Bess’s car only feet from his vantage point. I’m nothing better than a peeping tom.

  He cursed, glancing around and hoping no one could see him. He’d be reported to the police for sure. His eyes narrowed as he accepted he need only worry about concealing himself from others. The couple in the car wouldn’t see him; they were too engrossed in each other.

  After about fifteen minutes, his muscles protesting at his scrunched-up stance, he slid back down the slope. He couldn’t hear what was being said inside the car, and anyway, he’d seen enough.

  If the meeting wasn’t clandestine, wouldn’t she have asked this bloke back to the house? He’d heard Bess offer for her to invite friends around, but she never had. Not since he’d been there, anyway.

  But then, what self-respecting person would take someone like that home? Gran would have a fit if she ever found out her beloved Zoe was hanging around with a lowlife.

  For a moment Connor sat in his car trying to decide what to do. Should he drive up and confront the couple or wait until Zoe returned Bess’s car?

  He had no right to dictate who she saw, but he could restrict her use of his grandmother’s car. Deciding the latter was the only option he could take, Connor shook himself out of his uncertainty and drove down the hill.

  Too wound up to return to the house, he parked and stalked into a cafe. He sat brooding into a cup of coffee. His black mood intensifying, he never noticed the Mercedes in the garage as he stormed into the house some time later. Tempted to drown his anger, he reached for a whiskey bottle but let it slip back onto the shelf. Although he wasn’t on call tonight, drinking wouldn’t solve anything. It wouldn’t erase the pain of seeing Zoe wrapped in some degenerate’s arms.

  Slumping into a recliner, he rubbed the ache across his forehead. Knowing he’d have to wait until tomorrow to confront Zoe, he was oddly reluctant to hear her explanation.

  He thumped the side of the chair, suddenly wishing he’d stayed with the Red Cross. There wasn’t time for petty personal emotions when you were dealing with physical human suffering.

  ****

  Whether fate was playing tricks with him or not, Connor didn’t know; but it was four days before he ran into Zoe again. Oh, she’d been at the house. She’d left little notes on the fridge saying she wouldn’t be home, but she’d managed to avoid him.

  Of course, to be honest, volunteering for extra shifts while a colleague was tied up with the arrival of his brand new son could also have exacerbated the situation, but Connor conveniently dismissed this.

  Maybe she has some scruples. She’s feeling guilty enough to avoid me.

  Hearing her bike roaring into the driveway, he tensed as his heart began to race. He forced himself to continue eating the Chinese takeaway he’d bought for his tea.

  He had no way of knowing whether she’d had her friend in the house. Nothing appeared out of place or missing. He’d checked.

  Maybe he’d even stayed overnight. Connor grimaced with annoyance as the vision of her and that long-haired lout…

  At least she was alone now. She called a cheery greeting as she entered her bedroom. His meal was forgotten as a range of emotions rushed through him. Connor’s confusion grew as he acknowledged the paramount one was relief.

  He’d been worried about her, even though those notes had suggested nothing untoward. He was relieved to see her safe and well. There was no telling what trouble she could find herself in if she was hanging around with undesirables.

  “You’ve been putting in some long hours?”

  He’d managed to get through his meal, although the food had suddenly tasted like sawdust. Connor was concentrating hard on a tedious current-affairs program on television when she plonked herself down in Bess’s chair, a small plate of salad in her hand.

  He nodded, swinging his gaze back to the screen rather than watch the way her lips moved as she ate.

  “You make good money as a locum?”

  Connor frowned. For him, being a doctor had never had anything to do with the financial rewards.

  Zoe shrugged as if she’d sensed his displeasure. “I only meant you’ve been working such long hours. I just hoped it was worth missing out on all that sleep.”

  “I’m not working all that time, just on call. If I lived closer, I could have been at home unless they needed me.”

  A couple more questions and Connor found himself sharing stories of some of his hospital experiences. He didn’t realize how long he’d been talking until Zoe leaned across and, grasping the remote control from the arm of his chair, switched off the TV.

  He cursed under his breath. What is it about her that makes me want to tell her my life story? For God’s sake, I can’t even trust the dame.

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bore you.” He spoke stiffly; embarrassed he’d forgotten his intention to confront her about her use of his grandmother’s car. But any idea of berating her flew from his mind as her mouth curved into what appeared to be an unconscious smile.

  An instant wistful expression flashed across her face. “It must be so rewarding to be a doctor.” She gazed into space. “To be able to heal, and mend people’s broken bodies.”

  Surprised, he glanced at her. The faraway look in her eyes gave him the opportunity to look freely, his gaze roaming the body curled up in the seat next to him. The length of her tanned thighs teased at him until he dragged his focus up, only to have his eyes halt at the rounded curves of her breasts. He sucked in a deep breath to suppress an awakening response in his body.

  “I guess it’d be hell though, too.”

  Thankfully his gaze shot up to meet hers before she could grasp where his attention had been. He hoped.

  “Do you sometimes feel like you’ve let people down? When they expect you’re going to be able to perform miracles?”

  He found himself nodding as their eyes clung. “God’s the only one who can perform miracles. I definitely can’t.”

  “What made you study pediatrics?”

  He didn’t know she even knew he was a pediatrician. Oh yeah, I told her I was at Starship. He shrugged. He was still trying to figure out why he’d chosen that particular specialization himself. His thoughts flashed to Warren, wishing he’d chosen neurology instead.

  “Are you going somewhere?” Connor’s voice echoed his
disapproval as, after glancing at her watch, Zoe stood. She stretched so artlessly beside him he couldn’t control the rise in his temperature. “It’s almost ten o’clock.”

  “Mmm. I’d better hurry or I’ll be late.” She turned at the door and smiled back at him. “I enjoyed talking with you, Connor.”

  Warmth spread through him even as his emotions warred. He spoke brusquely from the lounge doorway as she emerged from her room in her leathers. “I don’t like you going out alone at this time of night.”

  Warmth crept into his face as she smiled at him.

  Her eyebrows rose. “Don’t worry, Connor.”

  He flinched as she tapped his cheek lightly with her finger.

  “I won’t be alone for long.”

  Rage flared inside him. “Can’t your boyfriend come and pick you up? That’s what any decent guy would do.”

  “Ahh.” She grinned at him, her eyes dancing. “But John isn’t my boyfriend.”

  “Just some random bloke you spend the night with?”

  “That’s right, he’s just some bloke I spend the night with.”

  His teeth grated as she tapped his cheek again.

  “A girl’s got to make a living the best way she can.” She evaded the hand that shot out to grasp her arm. With a cheery “see you tomorrow,” she disappeared out the back door, leaving a fuming Connor to pace futilely around the empty house.

  ****

  Sleep was imperative if you were trying to do double shifts. Like all medical students, Connor had developed an ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. Short catnaps were often all you got in a busy hospital, and you learned to survive on them. So why am I feeling so exhausted this morning?

  Pictures of Zoe had juggled around inside his head all night, taking any comfort away from the scant moments he managed to sleep. Pictures of her with John had kept barreling back. The long-haired guy from the ferry had been Rangi, so this was someone different, someone she admitted sleeping with. How many others are there? Does she intend to try, with her beguiling eyes and mysterious smile, to add me to her list?