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The Helen Bianchin Collection

Page 159

by Helen Bianchin


  She closed her eyes, then she opened them again and voiced a restrained greeting into the mouthpiece.

  ‘Rebekah—’

  Even from a distance she could sense the quiet anger beneath the surface of his control. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘And daisies grow upside-down in the ground.’ His voice held an edge she couldn’t define. ‘Give me your word you’ll stay with Luc and Ana for a few days.’

  She almost said she’d suffered worse than this. ‘Tonight,’ she conceded, and heard him mutter something unintelligible. Suddenly she’d had enough, and there wasn’t another thing she wanted to hear…much less from a man who’d caused her more emotional highs and lows in one short week than anyone she’d ever known. ‘Goodnight.’

  Maisie took care of her plate, Ana fed Millie and put down fresh water, while Rebekah gathered up a change of clothes, a few essentials and pushed them into an overnight bag.

  Luc crossed to her side as she re-entered the kitchen. ‘Ready?’

  She inclined her head, thanked Maisie, gave Millie a gentle pat, then she followed everyone out into the lobby while Luc locked up.

  Ana sat in the back seat of the Mercedes and caught hold of Rebekah’s hand as Luc drove to their palatial home in suburban Vaucluse.

  ‘Do you want to talk about it?’

  ‘Not particularly.’ There was little point in rehashing it.

  Ana’s fingers tightened, and her voice held an uncustomary hardness. ‘This isn’t going to happen again.’

  It was nice, Rebekah had to admit, to be taken care of. Luc and Ana’s home was an architectural masterpiece set in beautiful grounds high on a hill with splendid views out over the harbour.

  Petros, their politically correct manservant, fussed over her as if she were a precious piece of china. Within minutes of arrival he prepared tea and exquisite bite-size sandwiches.

  Luc joined them for a while, then at a telling glance from his wife he excused himself on the pretext of dealing with business email. He brushed a light kiss to Ana’s cheek, then crossed to gift Rebekah a similar salutation and departed the room.

  Rebekah allowed Petros to refill her cup, and declined anything further to eat.

  Ana waited only long enough for the manservant to wheel the tea-trolley from the room before leaning forward in her chair.

  ‘Tell me exactly what happened,’ she insisted sternly. ‘And don’t leave anything out.’

  Reliving the episode was emotionally draining, although it helped her deal with it.

  ‘The bastard,’ Ana derided huskily when Rebekah finished. ‘Luc and Jace will ensure he never comes near you again.’

  Hang on a minute… ‘Jace? What does Jace have to do with it?’ She drew in a deep breath in the hope of assembling a sense of calm. ‘While I appreciate Luc’s help, I’m quite able to take care of everything myself.’

  ‘It’s done,’ Ana said simply. ‘And you can stop with the fierce expression.’

  ‘Ana—’

  ‘It’s time to bring out the big guns,’ her sister remonstrated gently. ‘Luc and Jace have them…in spades.’

  This was getting out of hand. ‘Look—’

  ‘No,’ Ana declared emphatically. ‘You look. I don’t want to wake up one morning and hear Brad has somehow got to you and you’re just another statistic in the assault and battery records.’ She leaned forward and caught hold of Rebekah’s hands. ‘I was there, remember? When you walked out on him, and afterwards.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘Jace is the first man you’ve dated in a long time. Only to have Brad emerge out of the woodwork and stalk you.’ A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. ‘No one, no one is ever going to hurt you again. Ever.’

  Rebekah felt her stomach curl into a tight ball at her sister’s distress. ‘Ana, don’t. I’m OK. The police have arrested him.’

  ‘Sure, you’re OK. Bruised ribs, multiple contusions. Not to mention shock and trauma.’ Her voice rose. ‘I hate to think what would have happened if he’d dragged you inside the apartment. Or if Maisie and George hadn’t been home.’

  She caught the fierce determination apparent, and stayed any further protest…for now. She might be the victim, but Ana was hurting too. ‘You haven’t shown me the latest print-out of the babe’s ultrasound. Or the radiographer’s video clip.’

  Ana offered a shaky smile. ‘Changing the subject won’t change my mind.’ She stood to her feet and extended her hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go see pictures of your foetal niece or nephew.’

  It helped to take both their minds off the earlier part of the evening, and it was there Luc found them rewinding the video tape for the third or fourth time.

  ‘Time to call it a night for both of you, hmm?’

  Rebekah caught the way his features softened as he took Ana’s hands in his and gently pulled her to her feet. He would, she knew, ease his wife’s apprehension and be there for her when she stirred through the night.

  An ache began deep inside at the thought of being able to sink into the comfort of a man’s arms, have his lips brush her forehead, trail over her cheek and settle on her mouth.

  ‘You’re to rest tomorrow,’ Ana insisted as they ascended the stairs. ‘Suzie is competent, and we’ll manage. Coming into the shop is a no-no. OK?’

  ‘I’ll see how I feel in the morning.’ It was a compromise at best, and Ana shot her a dark glance as if divining her thoughts.

  ‘I mean it.’

  Rebekah caught her sister’s hand and gently squeezed it. ‘I know you do.’

  ‘Petros has made up the front guest suite for you, and you’re to sleep in. Just come downstairs whenever you feel like breakfast.’ Ana’s features sharpened a little. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’

  ‘Yes,’ she reassured. In truth every bone in her body ached. ‘I’m going to have that sedative, hop into bed, and sleep like a baby.’

  She did take the sedative, and she did sleep for a few hours, only to wake in the early dawn hours feeling as if her body had been pummelled like a punching bag.

  Which it pretty much had, she conceded as she slipped gingerly out of bed and made for the en suite.

  She snapped on the light and examined her face in the mirror. A bit of concealer would cover the emerging bruise. As to the rest of her…she lifted the nightshirt and grimaced at the swelling on her ribs, the blueish-purplish colour, and knew she was fortunate none of the ribs was broken. Shallow breathing was the order of the day for a while.

  There were scratches on her arm, a large, reddish welt on one forearm.

  Not nice, not nice at all. But the swelling would subside, the bruises yellow and disappear. Give it a few weeks and all that would remain was the memory.

  Rebekah checked her watch and saw it was much too early to dress and go downstairs. Returning to bed and trying to sleep wasn’t an option, so she switched on the bedside lamp and leafed through a few glossy magazines Petros had thoughtfully provided.

  Rebekah waited until Luc left the house at eight, saw Ana follow him minutes later, then she quickly gathered up her bag and moved quickly downstairs.

  Petros was in the midst of clearing the dining-room table, and he turned as she entered the room.

  ‘Good morning,’ he greeted warmly. ‘I trust you slept well? Ana insisted I shouldn’t disturb you.’ His gaze took in the bag. ‘What can I get you for breakfast?’

  It would be useless to say she wasn’t hungry. ‘Orange juice, toast and coffee will be great.’

  One eyebrow arched. ‘Might I suggest some fruit and cereal? Eggs with a little ham or bacon? A croissant, perhaps?’

  ‘You’re bent on spoiling me.’ She took a seat and poured herself a glass of juice. There was fruit on the table, and she selected a banana, peeled and ate it.

  ‘But toast and coffee is fine.’

  There was a folded newspaper near by, and she flicked through the pages, read the headlines, her horoscope for the day, and scanned the comic strips. By which time she’d eaten two pieces of toast and had alm
ost finished her second cup of coffee.

  Rebekah retrieved her cellphone and punched in the relevant digits to summon a taxi, and she was relaying the address when Petros re-entered the room.

  ‘You intend going somewhere this morning?’ the manservant asked as he began clearing dishes.

  ‘I need to go back to my apartment and feed my cat.’

  ‘Luc would be most upset if I allowed you to take a taxi. I’ll drive you, whenever you’re ready to leave.’

  ‘Nonsense.’

  ‘Please, in this instance I must insist. If you’ll tell me which company you called, I’ll ring and cancel.’

  It seemed easier to capitulate, and twenty minutes later she slid out of the four-wheel-drive Petros used for transport.

  ‘I’ll wait until you’re ready to return.’

  He wasn’t going to like the next part at all. ‘I intend remaining at the apartment, Petros.’

  His lips pursed in visible disapproval. ‘Luc and Ana will be most displeased.’

  ‘I promise I’ll ring and explain.’ Ana she could handle, and Ana would handle Luc. Fait accompli. Besides, in less than half an hour she’d be at the shop.

  ‘Ms Rebekah, I don’t think this is a good idea.’

  She offered him a sweet smile. ‘Thanks for the lift.’ Then she turned and used her key to enter the main lobby.

  Home, she breathed as she entered her apartment. There was no place quite like your own, and Millie bounded towards her, curling back and forth around her ankles, purring in delighted welcome.

  The apartment looked achingly familiar, and she moved through it, straightening a vase on the chiffonier as she made her way to the kitchen.

  Fifteen minutes later she’d fed Millie, changed into work clothes, and was on her way to the shop.

  ‘You aren’t supposed to be here,’ Ana remonstrated the instant Rebekah walked through the door.

  ‘I know everything you’re going to say,’ she responded firmly as she crossed to the work table and stowed her bag. ‘But I’d rather be doing something constructive than swanning on the chaise lounge, idly flipping through the pages of a magazine.’

  Take control. Hadn’t that been the essence of any professional advice she’d ever received? ‘OK, where are we at?’ she queried briskly.

  ‘You’ve got the morning,’ Ana conceded, trying for a fierce look that didn’t quite come off. ‘Then you’re going home.’

  ‘I’ve got the day,’ Rebekah corrected gently. ‘And I’ll go home when I’m ready.’

  ‘You’re impossibly stubborn.’

  ‘And I love you, too.’

  Suzie looked from one to the other. ‘Are you two going to fight, then make up? Or is this serious stuff and I should take five to let you sort it out alone?’

  ‘Stay,’ Rebekah and Ana ordered in unison.

  ‘If you insist. Shall I mediate, or referee?’

  ‘Neither.’

  The phone rang, and Ana declared sotto voce, ‘Saved by the bell.’

  The morning was busier than usual with a number of customers coming in from the street. It was late morning when Rebekah took a quick check of their stock and reached for the phone to place an order, then arrange for the courier for delivery.

  The electronic buzzer heralded the arrival of another customer, and she glanced towards the door, then stilled as Jace entered the shop.

  Shock, surprise were just two of the emotions she experienced. Not the least was speculation as to why he was here when he was supposed to be in Cairns. Had his meetings concluded earlier than he’d anticipated? Yet if so, why wasn’t he in Brisbane?

  For a moment her gaze locked with his as he stood exuding a silent power that was vaguely frightening.

  She watched as he moved towards Ana and offered an affectionate greeting, then he turned and moved towards the table where Rebekah was in the midst of gathering sprays of orchids into a large bouquet.

  The nerves inside her stomach gave every impression of performing a series of complicated somersaults, and her fingers faltered as he paused within touching distance.

  What could she say? Anything would be superfluous, so she didn’t even try as she bore his raking appraisal.

  A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw, and she saw his eyes harden briefly, then he lifted a hand and trailed light fingers over her cheek.

  ‘Get your bag,’ he commanded gently. ‘I’m taking you home.’ He pressed his thumb over her lips as they parted to voice a refusal. ‘No argument.’ He increased the pressure slightly. ‘I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.’

  Rebekah removed his hand, only, she suspected, because he let her. ‘You don’t have the right to give me orders.’

  ‘It’s a self-appointed role.’ His voice was a silky drawl that feathered sensation down the length of her spine.

  Everything faded from her peripheral vision. There were just the two of them, fused by an electric awareness that had everything to do with heightened sensuality. Right now she didn’t need or want it.

  ‘Go away.’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘Jace—’

  ‘Do you really want to do this the hard way?’

  He was capable of implementing his threat despite any resistance on her part, and, given the choice, she’d opt for dignity over embarrassment.

  ‘How did you—?’

  ‘Find out where you were?’ he completed. ‘It was a process of elimination. First Luc, then Petros, and Ana.’

  Rebekah moved slightly, shot her sister a dark glance and was met with a blithe smile. It was nothing less than a conspiracy, and one where the odds were stacked against her.

  ‘There’s a lot of work to get through.’

  ‘Nothing Suzie and I can’t handle,’ Ana assured.

  ‘There you go,’ Jace drawled with hateful ease. ‘Now collect your bag and we’ll get on our way.’

  ‘I have the van. And there is no we.’

  ‘Arguing this back and forth isn’t going to change a thing.’

  ‘So concede defeat and follow you like a little lamb?’ She refrained from adding to the slaughter… To no one, least of all this Greek-born American, would she admit she ached all over, her head thumped with pain, and she was fast approaching the need for serious time out.

  ‘I have the car double-parked outside,’ Jace informed as she reached for her bag.

  ‘I hope the traffic officer has issued you with a ticket.’ She offered Suzie a wry smile, brushed her lips to Ana’s cheek, then preceded Jace from the shop.

  ‘None of this is your business,’ Rebekah declared as he eased the car out from the busy thoroughfare. She was unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed there hadn’t been a parking-violation ticket attached to his windscreen.

  ‘Wrong. My involvement with you started all this.’

  ‘What involvement?’

  ‘Don’t split hairs, pedhaki mou.’

  The affectionate ‘little one’ got to her as she turned towards him. ‘You mean you postponed business meetings and flew back to Sydney because you felt responsible? That’s ridiculous.’

  He met her gaze and held it for a few seemingly long seconds. ‘Is it?’ He returned his attention to negotiating traffic. ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘I fail to see the reasons for everyone’s concern. I’m OK.’ She was tempted to tell him there had been more damaging attacks in the past, only to refrain from the admission.

  ‘Sure you are,’ Jace discounted in a dry, mocking tone. ‘You were barely standing up in there, pale as a ghost, your eyes dark with pain.’ There was underlying anger apparent. ‘What were you trying to prove?’

  Should she tell him the truth? ‘I didn’t want to sit and brood.’ And I didn’t want to be alone, she added silently.

  Jace swept the car into the entrance adjacent her apartment.

  ‘Here’s fine.’ She already had her hand on the door-clasp.

  ‘The hell it is.’ He eased the car down the incline lead
ing to the underground car park, and indicated the security lock. ‘Give me your key.’

  ‘There’s no need for you to personally see me to my apartment door.’

  She was a prickly young woman, and one he wanted to kiss senseless one minute and shake sense into the next. ‘Just…do it, Rebekah.’

  ‘I don’t—’

  ‘Your ex-husband has been released on bail.’ Rebekah stilled at his words, then drew in a slight breath…anything other than slight hurt like hell. ‘Why am I not surprised?’

  Brad’s mother was a rich society matron who engaged high-ranking lawyers to protect her only son. On the past two occasions Wilma Somerville had rushed to his defence, blamed Rebekah for instigating the attacks, and threatened dire consequences if an official complaint was filed.

  The next time Ana took matters into her own hands and persuaded Rebekah to press charges, only to have Wilma’s lawyer release him hours later on bail and later persuade judge and jury Brad was a well-educated, caring man who simply needed a course in anger management. A hefty fine, and he was free.

  ‘You’re determined to personally check out my apartment to see Brad hasn’t slipped past security undetected and may be lurking in wait for me?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  Rebekah handed him her key in silence, then when the security grille lifted he drove into the parking bay alongside her MG.

  ‘I very much doubt he’d be so foolish,’ she offered as they walked towards the lift.

  Jace spared her a direct look. ‘I’m not prepared to let you take the risk,’ he assured with chilling softness.

  She’d decorated her apartment in soft green, cream with a touch of apricot in muted tones. Complemented by modern furniture and same-tone drapes. Her own individual touch, rather than the ascetic perfection of an interior decorator. The ambience was calming and peaceful…her personal sanctuary.

  Her small, pale grey-tipped cat sat up on the sofa, surveying him with unblinking solemnity.

  ‘Millie,’ Rebekah indicated. ‘She’s very spoilt, and not used to you yet.’ Whereupon Millie proved her mistress wrong by jumping down onto the carpet, padding over to Jace and began winding herself around his legs.

 

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