by Karina Bliss
He glanced at the luminous green dial on the bedside clock. “It’s only five. Stay another thirty minutes.”
She rolled away from his embrace. “No!” Sitting on the bed with her back to him, she added more calmly, “I…I have a lot to do today.”
“Then of course you must go,” he said evenly. He turned on the light to see her face. He refused to believe that their recent lovemaking had changed nothing, meant nothing.
Liz blinked and avoided his gaze. “I’ll shower when I get home.”
Propping himself up on an elbow, Luke watched her dress with her usual brisk efficiency. He’d never been invited to the house she’d lived in with Harry. But then affairs didn’t take place on hallowed ground.
He’d always considered his ability to confront unpleasant truths a strength; now Luke hated it. With his history, loving a woman who couldn’t love him back was emotional suicide. He had to give her up while he still had self-respect to cushion the fall.
While she used the bathroom, he dressed and found her bag and shoes. “Here you go.”
“Thanks.” Her smile was tight; her eyes looked right through him. In silence, they walked to the door. Outside, the dawn sky drizzled rain. It was still dark enough to trigger the security lights.
“Liz, I think we should stop sleeping together,” he said quietly. Now he had her full attention. Luke watched the emotions chase across her face—shock, disbelief, regret. But he also saw the relief. His heart started to bleed. “With the swim challenge over, you need to concentrate on the election.”
She turned away to look at the rain. Under the lights, the tiny drops glittered in her hair. “We always knew this affair was a temporary arrangement,” she said.
Fool that he was, part of him had still hoped she’d change the rules. “Plus, I’ve been neglecting Triton business since the kids arrived. I need to catch up.”
She gave him a searching, anxious look. “But we’ll still be friends?”
He took an umbrella off one of the coat hooks in the hall and handed it to her. “Of course.”
Numbly, Liz took it. An honest man was always so bad at lying. “That’s settled then.” She touched her lips lightly to his, resisting the urge to cling. All she’d wanted was space to think. Of course he’d ended it. After her performance last night, it had stopped being fun.
As she walked blindly down the driveway, Liz realized she’d had a narrow escape from complete humiliation.
“Liz.” On a heart-skip of hope, she swung around. “The umbrella,” he reminded her.
The rain had got harder without her even noticing. With a bright smile, she fumbled with the mechanism and hid her stricken expression under the canopy of emerald green. “Silly me.”
“WELL, I MUST SAY it’s nice to finally be singing from the same hymnbook.” But a slight frown drew Delores’s eyebrows together as she stood up, and Liz realized the older woman would have preferred a battle.
Rising from her chair, she reflected that politics made strange bedfellows. “Mr. Carter’s proposal still has to be judged on its merits through the planning department.”
“Yes, yes.” Delores picked up her handbag. “But if none of the mayoral or council candidates support the proposal, it will be much harder to push through.”
About to open her office door, Liz paused. “Snowy’s made his decision then?”
“He knows which side his bread is buttered on. And when I make it an election issue, the other candidates will follow suit.”
Liz was careful not to flag her disquiet. “Is that necessary?” she asked with a smile.
Delores gave her an incredulous look. “The only time public opinion has any power is in an election year. We’d be crazy not to use it to kill further development. And to think I was starting to soften toward that man.” The familiar martial light kindled in her eyes. “I’m sure Luke Carter was planning this all along. Well, he’ll soon learn he can’t play me for a fool.”
“I know that was never his in—” “Of course it was. As if delinquents aren’t bad enough, now he’s expecting Beacon Bay to endure corporate shenanigans and hordes of yuppies. Anyway, Elizabeth, I’m glad you’ve joined us. I’d been hearing rumors.”
Liz’s hand tightened on the door handle. “Rumors?”
Delores paused beside her. “That you support the camp.”
“I do support Camp Chance—” Liz opened the door “—but, Harry…I mean, I’m against any corporate use.”
“Well, you’re doing the right thing now at least” was the grudging reply.
Then why did she feel so guilty? Closing the door against the persistent scent of lilac, Liz leaned against it with a frown. Since Luke’s new plans had become public knowledge her stand had been vindicated time and time again.
Without any prompting, everyone—from the tea lady to Kirsty—had volunteered his or her opinion that Harry wouldn’t have countenanced Camp Corporate. Even Luke’s supporters on council took Liz’s opposition for granted.
The only reason she’d told Delores her decision was to take the heat out of the issue. Let Luke’s proposal take its chances with everyone else’s. At the very least she could give him a level playing field. Instead, Delores considered it a mandate for war.
Frowning, Liz looked at the phone, wondering if she should ring the camp and warn Luke. Are you sure you’re not looking for an excuse to talk to him!
Okay, she missed him. But—Liz gathered her things and left her office—he didn’t miss her. He hadn’t called once. So that was that and she could concentrate on winning the election. Ahead in the polls now by a good margin, all she had to do was hold a steady course and the job stayed hers.
In the lift, Liz stared at her reflection in the steel doors. So why did she look so sad? Yes, there was Luke and getting over her crush on him. It relieved her to name it.
Obviously she wasn’t cut out for casual and that was all Luke had wanted. And really, that was all she’d wanted, too. She was never going to love someone as much as she loved Harry because the pain that came with the goodbye…
Oh, God. Liz pressed her fingers into her eyelids. Get over it. He doesn’t want you.
But her unhappiness was about more than losing Luke. For the first time in her life she was at odds with Harry. Having Delores in her office this afternoon only intensified Liz’s conviction that—this time—she was on the wrong side. And it was driving her crazy.
In the foyer, she nodded a distracted goodbye to Mary at reception.
“Give that gorgeous baby a kiss for me.”
“I will.”
Outside, Liz pulled Harriet’s car seat out of the trunk and fixed it in place in the backseat. She was picking her darling up from crèche. That would cheer her up. They would go to the beach, make a sand castle, swim…She found an upbeat song on the radio and turned it up loud. Enjoy all the things that children who were loved and nurtured could take for granted.
The camp’s future depends on it being self-funded.
Oh, hell. Liz leaned her forehead against the steering wheel.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” she whispered. “But I’m pulling rank on you.”
“WHAT DO YOUmean you’re supporting Camp Corporate?”
Kirsty dropped the flannel she was using to wash Harriet’s back. It landed in the bubbles with a splash and set the family of rubber ducks bobbing frantically. Harriet grabbed Mother Duck and tried to chew her head off.
Sitting on the bath’s edge, Liz hoped it wasn’t a sign. “When I first decided to run for mayor I made myself a promise. To be uncompromising in my values and flexible in my views. I’m allowed to change my mind, Kirsty.”
“But you know Dad was absolutely opposed to any commercial use of the beachfront.”
“This is a conscience call for me.” Liz hesitated. Keeping her childhood private was too engrained to surrender the secret lightly. “For the charity to prosper, it needs its own income.”
Retrieving the flannel, Kirsty vigorously s
crubbed her daughter’s back. “They should have thought of that before they started.”
Harriet gave a squeal of noisy protest; Liz took over the flannel and the washing. “With twenty-twenty hindsight, I’m sure they would have located Camp Chance somewhere else.” And I wouldn’t have met Luke. Despite her misery, something in her protested.
Kirsty’s mouth tightened. “Well, I’m disappointed, Lizzy, and I know Dad is turning in his grave.”
Liz was trying not to dwell on that. Gently, she washed Harriet’s face. “It’s me I have to live with.”
“Okay, let’s leave the personal issues aside for a minute. Sticking your neck out on a controversial issue a week before an election is crazy. As your campaign manager I have to advise against it.”
“Someone has to counter Delores Jackson’s tirades with reasoned argument before she does too much damage. And how much credibility would I have if I wait to show my hand after the election? None.”
“Who cares?” Leaning forward, Kirsty pulled the plug on Harriet. The squeal of draining water was the only way to get her out of the bath. “At least you’ll be elected.”
Liz lifted the clamoring baby free and rescued Mother Duck from the plug monster.
“Now who’s turning Harry in his grave?”
“Fine,” said Kirsty grimly, handing Liz a towel. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
For the first time since Liz had started having weekly playdates with Harriet, her stepdaughter didn’t ask her to stay for dinner.
BUT IT WAS Liz’s heart that turned over when Luke called her name three nights later. She was approaching the hall where the mayoral candidates were due to summarize their policies for the last time before Saturday’s election.
“You’re back from Auckland,” she said inanely, then blushed. Now he’d know she’d been keeping tabs on him.
“An hour ago. Rosie said you’re supporting Camp Corporate.”
Of course, he wasn’t here for her. “That’s right.”
“What changed your mind?”
“My conscience. I couldn’t spend time with Harriet without thinking about kids who don’t have her advantages.” Dammit, he shouldn’t be looking at her like that, when he didn’t mean it. Briskly she added, “But wait until you’ve seen my conditions before you get too excited. There are a lot of controls on the use of that land.”
“I have, and I’m still grateful. We all are…Christian, Jordan, the camp counselors.” The gratitude in his voice stirred her emotions, all too close to the surface.
“Don’t. If I get teary-eyed my mascara will run and then what will my constituents think?” She grimaced. “And I don’t want to embarrass you again.”
“What do you mean?” His tone was sharp.
Wishing she’d never raised the subject, Liz shrugged. “Being so needy the other night. No wonder you—” She stopped herself in the nick of time, glanced at her watch. “I have to go.”
As she turned away, he caught her arm in a firm grip. “Is that why you think I ended it?” When she hesitated, he said, almost to himself, “Of course it is. Hell, I was so intent on saving my pride, I didn’t even consider how lousy the timing was.”
Saving pride seemed like a fine idea to Liz. With a tight smile, she freed her arm. “I shouldn’t have brought it up. Forget it.”
As she hurried away, his voice followed her. “I ended it because I can’t share you with Harry anymore, Liz. It’s not good for me.”
She turned around and stared at him. What did he mean by that…? Did he…? Could he?
“There you are.” Glancing over her shoulder, Liz saw Kirsty hurrying toward her from the hall. “You’re needed inside. Hi, Luke. Hmm, I’m not sure I should be talking to you. You do know Camp Corporate is jeopardizing Lizzy’s reelection?”
“She’s exaggerating,” Liz’s brain was still reeling. “Can we talk later?”
Luke’s gaze sharpened. “Is there more to say?”
Was there? She took a deep breath. “Yes.”
He nodded. “I’ll find you.”
Liz followed Kirsty through the side door into the hall. “Liz!” Jo Swann beckoned to her from the stage. The publisher was emcee tonight. “You’re speaking after Snowy.” He was already at the podium, lowering the microphone. Beyond him, the hall was slowly filling with people.
Liz took her seat beside Delores and scanned her notes, trying to focus. The old lady ignored her but, since changing her stance, Liz was getting used to disapproval. Unfortunately Snowy had also become rabid in his opposition.
When Liz had tackled him about the camp privately, he’d been blunt. “Given your lead in the polls, I needed a controversial issue to bring some parity into the race. It could have been anything, Liz, but by changing your stance on the camp so close to the election, you handed me this one on a plate.”
She hadn’t repeated that conversation to Kirsty; their relationship was strained enough already. Liz turned into Snowy’s PowerPoint presentation and frowned.
“If council approves Camp Corporate,” he said, “any Tom, Dick or developer will be able to push through foreshore projects because a precedent has been set.”
She raised a hand. “I’m sorry to interrupt but that’s incorrect and Deputy Mayor Patterson knows it.” Ignoring Snowy, she looked to Jo. “May I clarify the situation?”
Receiving a nod of assent, Liz outlined the council regulations that would prevent rampant development and listed the exceptional conditions that made the charity unique.
Her gaze, calm and reassuring, swept across the crowd. “Contrary to what some of the Letters to the Editor in the Beacon Bay Chronicle have implied this week, I have no intention of jumping into bed with big business or allowing a string of high-rises to be built along the waterfront.”
Snowy gave a bark of laughter. “My God, what an apt analogy.”
“Excuse me?”
“I have some pertinent information on this topic that I’d like to present if I may, Madame Chair.”
Jo frowned. “You sound as if we’re in a courtroom, Snowy.”
“And so we are—in the court of public opinion.” He nodded to the assistant running his PowerPoint presentation. “As you know,” he said, “we’ve had cameras installed outside council offices in an attempt to stop a graffiti problem.”
“A problem that began well before Camp Chance opened,” interrupted Liz, “so if you’re trying to make a connection between the recent tagging and camp kids—”
She caught her breath on a gasp as a still came into focus on the screen, a gasp lost in a collective one from the crowd.
“Taken on the eve of the Mayoral Swim-Safe Challenge, this shot is from video footage too steamy to replay in full,” Snowy said. Liz stared at the picture of herself locked in Luke’s embrace. Turning her head, she glimpsed amusement, embarrassment and disapproval in the crowd—but it was Kirsty’s reaction she searched for.
Her stepdaughter was staring fixedly at the screen, her expression stricken.
Liz turned on Snowy. “How dare you violate my privacy like this. What possible justification could you have?”
“Public interest,” he shot back. “So, Mayor Light, the exceptional conditions you mentioned in relation to Camp Corporate…Is one of them the fact that you’re sleeping with the developer?”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
IN THE HUSH that followed Snowy’s question, Luke stood up, clapping slowly. “Bravo. You really must join the amateur dramatics society, Snowy, when you fail to win the mayoralty. You’ve got a real talent.”
“Even so, he raises an excellent point,” said Jo Swann. “How long have you two been—”
Blushing to the roots of her hair, Liz cut her off. “I can assure you that my support of Camp Chance predates our personal relationship.”
Ignoring her interruption, Luke said smoothly, “Obviously facts will carry more weight than assurances. We’re more than happy to answer any questions you have.” Telling the truth would re
move any hint of illicitness from the scandal Snowy was intent on brewing. “We’ve been dating a few weeks.”
But wily bastard that he was, Snowy concentrated on Liz. “I’m not talking about your general endorsement of the camp, but your particular support of Camp Corporate. On Friday you told Delores Jackson you were against it, on Monday you’d changed your mind. How do you explain that?”
Again Luke answered. “Before you develop your conspiracy theory, Snowy, let’s clarify a few facts, shall we? The late mayor endorsed Camp Chance and his successor has done the same. Liz Light has never been involved in planning meetings, a fact that can be independently verified. And her decision to support Camp Corporate simply means that she’ll use her public profile to voice the interests of those who don’t have a voice—the kids who’ll benefit by the money it brings in.”
The whispers faded as people started to listen.
Jo frowned. “If everything is aboveboard, why did you hide your liaison?”
Luke looked at Liz. Only she could answer that one.
“In light of my late husband’s profile…in light of my own…I wanted some part of my life to stay private.” But she knew—as Luke did not—that a lot of people in Beacon Bay were going to be disappointed in her. “I can only reiterate that my decision to support Camp Corporate had nothing to do with Luke Carter.”
Except, looking into Luke’s gray eyes telegraphing his support, Liz realized that wasn’t entirely true. If it weren’t for him, she would never have reconciled with her past. Never challenged herself to step out from Harry’s shadow.
Flustered, she looked at Kirsty, who read Liz’s doubt and sprang to her feet. “Of course he’s influenced you,” she accused. “Everybody knows Dad would never have permitted commercial activity on the foreshore. Admit it, Lizzy, you know that, too.”
She couldn’t lie. “It’s true that Harry wouldn’t have supported—” The rest of her words were lost in the noise from the crowd. It seemed everyone had an opinion that needed expressing.
In the ensuing uproar, she watched Kirsty gather her things. Ignoring those trying to talk to her, Liz hurried off the stage.
