‘You know you deserved it,’ she repeated. ‘You caused thousands of dollars of damage, not to mention the grief and suffering you caused Mrs Bromley when you callously ran over her dog.’
He jaw tightened as he held her accusing look. ‘I’m afraid if you want to find a scapegoat for that particular crime you have no need to look any further than from within your own family.’
‘For God’s sake, Kane! Nero was found in the middle of the savaged lawn with tyre tracks over his back! How can you sit there and say you didn’t do it?’
‘I told you before, I did not kill that dog.’
Bryony felt confused, torn between wanting to believe him incapable of such a despicable act of cruelty but equally unwilling to lay the blame on someone much closer to home.
‘I suppose you expect me to believe someone else ran over the dog and planted his dead body so you would get the blame?’ she asked.
His mouth twisted as he pushed himself away from the table, the action sending a shock wave through the wine in her glass.
‘Believe what you like,’ he said roughly. ‘See if I give a damn.’ He turned for the door and it slammed behind him, making her flinch.
She stared at the still shivering wine and put her hand on top of the glass to steady it, her brow furrowing in bewilderment.
What was she supposed to think?
Although he’d always been taciturn and a touch surly she had never considered him the sort of person who would treat an animal with such heartlessness, but how could she be sure?
Did she really know him?
He’d stepped out of the past, taking ruthless control of everything marked with the Mercer name and, as far as she could see, her parents had let him do so without so much as a fight.
She had been the one to take the full brunt of his revenge, a revenge that he had planned meticulously.
She cleared away the barely touched food and once the plates and glasses were in the dishwasher wandered through the house.
It was beautifully crafted, the timbers of Tasmanian celery top pine and myrtle featuring throughout. She trailed her hand over the smooth surface of the railing on the mezzanine level, marvelling at Kane’s skill in bringing raw timber to such perfection.
She looked out towards the ocean rolling in and sighed. Would she ever know the full story?
Austin wasn’t around any more for her to ask about his version of events. It didn’t seem possible that the older brother she’d adored all her life could be party to what had gone on. She knew he and Kane had been at loggerheads most of the time during their youth and, although that didn’t really excuse her brother’s boorish behaviour towards him, she knew it had been well modelled by their father. Austin had simply adopted the same attitude from an early age and, to some degree, to her everlasting shame, so had she.
Bryony made her way back down the path to the beach, hoping the afternoon sea breeze would blow away her low spirits. She wandered along the water’s edge, stopping now and again to inspect a shell before continuing past a pair of sooty oyster catchers who were inspecting the waterline with interest.
A small flock of white-fronted terns carved the air a few metres in front of her, their wings moving in perfect unison as they circled back around as she passed.
It was the first time in her life that she’d walked on a totally deserted beach, the experience filling her with a sense of quiet awe.
It made her wonder about Kane’s need for solitude. Was he trying to escape the shame of his past by surrounding himself with the fragility of untouched, as yet unspoilt nature?
There was so much she didn’t know about him, but how could she draw closer? Wouldn’t it be disloyal to Austin’s memory for her to develop feelings for the man who had made it his life’s mission over the last ten years to destroy her family?
She turned her face to the stiffening breeze and wished she could erase the night of his accident from her memory for ever, but in moments like these when her guard was down it all came flooding back.
She’d been home on mid-term break, lying in her bed, her thoughts drifting preparatory to sleep when she’d heard a car pull up at the front of Mercyfields. Wondering who was calling at that late hour, she’d peered out of her bedroom window to see two police officers approaching the front door, their hats in their hands as a mark of respect.
She’d heard her mother’s bloodcurdling scream a few moments later and from that point Bryony’s life had gone into a tailspin from which she had yet to recover. She’d switched on to automatic to get through the trauma of funeral arrangements and the identification of Austin’s poor crushed body.
The inquest findings had indicated speed and alcohol were involved, but her parents had insisted he was innocent. She had let them think what they liked for their grief was so palpable she knew it would serve no purpose adding to it with details that could in no way change the final outcome.
Austin was dead.
Nothing and no one could bring him back.
The least she could do in honour of his memory was to keep Kane Kaproulias at a safe distance.
Her heart depended on it…
CHAPTER SEVEN
BRYONY was almost back to the cliff path when she saw something lying in the shallows about halfway along the beach in the opposite direction to which she’d walked.
She shielded her eyes from the slanting glare of the sun to see if she could make out what it was, but before she could identify it she heard the thud of rapid footsteps running through the sand behind her.
She swung around to see Kane sprinting towards her and in one of his hands a lethal-looking knife glinted dangerously.
She shrank away as he approached but he ran on past, calling out to her over his shoulder. ‘It’s one of the dolphins. I think it must be hurt.’
It took her but a second or two to get her legs into gear and, ignoring the protests of her knee, she ran behind him, coming to a heavily panting halt two hundred metres or so later.
It was indeed one of the dolphins.
It was lying on its side in the frothy shallows, one lustrous eye staring at her in unblinking pain.
‘Oh, my God!’ She sank to her knees, stroking her hand gently along the muscled skin of its neck. ‘What’s wrong with you, baby?’
Kane was examining the other side, his expression as he faced her murderous with rage.
‘Fishing line.’ He swore once, quite savagely, and she realised it was the first time she’d ever heard him do so.
‘Fishing line?’ She stared at him over the top of the dolphin’s back.
He nodded grimly. ‘We’ll have to roll him over so I can get to it. It’s embedded in his other flipper.’
‘Won’t we hurt him by moving him?’
‘He’ll die if we don’t; he’s halfway there already.’
Bryony watched in anguish as the dolphin rolled its eye at her as if giving credence to Kane’s gruff statement.
‘Put your arms under here.’ He directed her as she joined him on the other side of the dolphin. ‘Make sure your nails don’t scratch him, and push.’
She dug her feet into the sand and did as he commanded but the dolphin was a fully grown adult and heavy, not to mention terribly slippery.
‘Come on, Bryony, one more try,’ he said. ‘Here we go—one, two, three…’
The silvery body shifted slightly but the movement had distressed the poor creature, who began to struggle, his tail threshing about, sending a spray of water all over them both.
‘And again, agape mou,’ Kane directed as he shook the dripping water out of his eyes, his hands still braced against the dolphin’s body. ‘We can do it, I know we can…now push…’
She gave an almighty push, wondering why she was feeling so touched by his endearment when previously she’d berated him for addressing her so.
The dolphin moved at the same time as her knee gave way, but she gritted her teeth and kept pushing till he was safely turned over. Her breathing was st
ill laboured as she stared down at the tortured flesh of the dolphin’s flipper, the nylon of fishing line almost cutting it in two.
‘Oh, you poor thing…’ she gasped in despair.
‘It’s all right.’ Kane set the knife in position. ‘Just try and hold him still for a minute while I get rid of this.’
She wasn’t sure she would have much to offer in resistance if the creature decided to move, but as if sensing Kane was trying to help he lay still as the knife cut through the vicious bite of the line.
Kane straightened and gave her a rueful smile. ‘That’s the easy part over with, now for the difficult bit.’
‘The difficult bit?’ She gave him a confused look.
He nodded his head towards the water, now even further from where the dolphin was stranded as the tide ebbed away.
‘Oh, no…’ Her face fell.
‘Oh, yes.’ He tossed the knife to the sand past the waterline and positioned himself at the dolphin’s tail. ‘I’ll try and pull him a bit closer but, as I do, can you watch that his damaged flipper doesn’t get too traumatized as we go? He’s likely to struggle but there’s no other way.’
‘OK,’ she said and took up her position, her bottom lip between her teeth as Kane began to pull.
The dolphin eyed her soulfully before beginning to thrash to dislodge Kane’s grasp.
‘No, sweetie,’ she cooed and stroked its head. ‘He’s trying to help you. Don’t fight against him; you’ll only hurt yourself.’
She thought about the words she’d just spoken and wondered if there was a truth in them for her as well as for the beached dolphin. She had done nothing but fight Kane, and it could well be only her who would get hurt in the end.
The dolphin’s flipper began to drag along the shelly sand as Kane gave another pull so Bryony got on her knees and, keeping a few inches ahead, dug out a trench to allow it to pass through without catching.
‘Good thinking,’ Kane said in approval and, gritting his teeth, gave another huge pull. ‘Almost there…’
As soon as the dolphin felt the water deepen he began to writhe in earnest. Bryony sat back on her heels, the path she’d dug no longer necessary as the creature began to float, his blowhole closing over as he felt the water finally take his weight.
Kane let the tail go just as the dolphin turned for the bay, the late afternoon sun shining on the rubber-like silver of his back as he swam off.
Kane turned and looked at Bryony sitting in the shallows, her cheeks flushed with effort, her blonde hair like a mermaid’s, her beautiful face turned towards the deep blue waters of the sea.
He walked out of the waist deep water to the shallows and, smiling down at her, offered her a hand. ‘We did it, Bryony.’
Bryony took his hand but stumbled as she got to her feet as her knee refused to take her weight. He frowned as he steadied her, his arms against her strong but gentle.
‘What’s wrong? Are you hurt?’
She winced as she tested her knee once more, clutching at his sodden T-shirt for balance. ‘I’ve done something to my knee…it’ll be right in a minute.’
‘Let me see.’ He knelt down carefully and rolled up her cotton trousers, sucking in a sharp breath when he saw the already swollen joint. ‘That looks painful.’ He straightened to look down at her, concern etched across his darkly handsome features.
‘It is.’ Her expression twisted ruefully.
‘I’ll carry you back to the cottage.’ He began to put his arms around her.
‘No!’ She put a hand on his arm to stop him. ‘I’m too heavy to haul up that path.’
‘Too heavy?’ He gave her an amused look before scooping her up in his arms. ‘Listen, agape mou, the dolphin was heavy. After lugging that thing back into the water, I can tell you, you’re going to be an absolute breeze.’
Bryony had to admit as he brought her to the door of the cottage a short time later he was a whole lot stronger than she’d accounted for. The dolphin episode notwithstanding, she knew it couldn’t have been easy carrying a child up the awkward path let alone her! And yet he’d kept up an easy level of conversation as they went, his breathing rate not even accelerating while hers, with her body pressed so close to his, was skyrocketing out of control.
He set her down in the bathroom and, making sure she was steady, reached across and turned on the shower.
‘Strip off and have a quick shower, then I’ll bandage your knee.’
She looked at him in alarm as he turned back to face her once the water temperature was right.
‘What’s wrong?’ he asked.
She compressed her lips for a moment. ‘You can leave now…I think I can manage.’
‘On that knee?’ He frowned at her. ‘You’ll end up slipping over and doing even more damage. Don’t be stupid, do you think I haven’t seen a naked woman before?’
‘You haven’t seen this naked woman before,’ she said with a touch of pride.
He gave her a challenging look. ‘Not yet, but soon.’
Bryony snapped her teeth together, not sure she wanted to rise to that particular bait.
Kane’s eyes glinted teasingly as he handed her a big fluffy towel. ‘Have your shower in peace. I’ll be just outside the door if you need me.’
Her eyes followed him as he went out of the bathroom, her thoughts in tumbling disarray.
The running water called her back and, peeling off her wet clothes, she hobbled under the steaming spray and tried not to think of Kane’s dark eyes on her body some time in the future.
Her skin shivered in spite of the warm water, tiny goose-bumps of awareness lifting her flesh until she was tingling all over. What was happening to her? Was she so starved of physical affection she had to pine after a man who’d married her for revenge?
She turned off the shower and dried herself roughly, doing her best to force her mind away from the disturbing images it persistently tried to conjure up. Images of her body locked with Kane’s in the act of possession, his long hard body moving in time with hers, his mouth smothering the soft gasps of delight bursting from deep within her.
Bryony thrust her arms through the sleeves of the bathrobe she found hanging on the back of the door and, once she was securely covered, called out for Kane to come back in.
He came in bearing a first aid kit and a small stool for her to sit on while he attended to her knee.
He ran his hands over her joint, testing for tender spots with such competent gentleness she couldn’t help remarking on it.
‘You look like you’ve done this before.’
He looked up and gave her one of his slanted smiles, his eyes so dark she could barely distinguish the pupils from the irises.
‘Once or twice.’ He shifted his gaze and undid the cellophane wrapping on the tube of bandage and began winding it around her knee. ‘On a construction site there are always issues of safety. First aid training was part of the employment package.’
‘You should have been a doctor.’ She inspected her neatly bandaged leg.
‘I’ve been told my bedside manner needs work.’
Bryony was absolutely certain there was nothing wrong with his bedside or, for that matter, his inside the bed manner, but she wasn’t going to tell him that.
‘Thanks for bandaging it,’ she said instead and, with his help, got off the stool and tested her weight on her leg.
‘How does it feel?’ he asked.
‘Sore, but better for the support, I think.’
‘Good.’ He scrunched up the cellophane wrapping and placed it in the small bin under the basin before turning back to her. ‘Want me to carry you or do you think you can hobble a bit?’
‘I’ll give hobbling a try.’ She took the arm he offered.
They made their way back to the lounge overlooking the view and he helped her on to one of the white linen sofas, pulling over a footstool for her to place her leg on.
‘I think it must be time for a drink,’ he said. ‘What will you have—white wine,
champagne or something soft?’
‘What are you going to have?’ she asked.
‘I was thinking along the lines of a cold beer, but don’t let that stop you having what you’d like.’
‘I’d like champagne but it seems a shame to open it for just one person.’
‘I think I can afford it just this once,’ he said with a hint of a smile.
‘Champagne it is, then.’ She found herself smiling back.
‘That’s two,’ he said, looking at her thoughtfully.
‘Two what?’ She blinked at him in confusion.
‘Two genuine smiles,’ he said. ‘Not bad, considering how long we’ve known each other.’
She watched him as he fetched their drinks, not sure she had ever known the man she saw in front of her now.
Where was the sullen son of the housekeeper? Where was the young man who had pressed her brother’s buttons so much? Where was the man who had cruelly run down their neighbour’s much loved spaniel and left it to bleed to death in the middle of the lawn he’d ravaged so callously?
Kane was none of those men—he was someone else entirely, which meant she was in very great danger of being tempted into letting her guard down around him.
He came back over with an effervescent glass of champagne for her, a beer in his other hand.
‘Cheers.’ He lifted his bottle in a toast. ‘Here’s to our friend, the dolphin.’
‘To the dolphin.’ She chinked her glass against the lip of his bottle of beer.
He took the seat to her right and, placing his feet on the coffee table, crossed his ankles. ‘You did a great job out there, Bryony.’
‘I…I did?’ She felt ridiculously pleased by his comment and silently berated herself for it.
‘Sure you did. No hysterics, you just got on with the task at hand.’
‘He was suffering…’
‘Yes, but he’s one of the lucky ones.’ He took a swig of his beer. ‘I’ve seen too many who haven’t made it. It’s not exactly what you’d describe as a pleasant sight.’ He reached forward to set his bottle down on the coffee table near his crossed ankles, before leaning back with a sigh.
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