‘I’m okay.’ She pressed a palm to her head and tried to steady herself, nudging herself away from Col’s grip with her elbow.
‘You’re white as a sheet.’
‘I’m fine.’ She took a step and the room tilted around her sharply, as though someone had tipped the ballet studio over like a child’s playing block.
‘Yeah, I’ll believe that when you can stand on your own.’ Col pulled her around his neck. ‘Come on, let’s find you a seat.’
They walked over to the front of the studio where her MP3 player and stereo system were kept. She settled into the small plastic chair and dropped her head into her hands. If only the room would stop spinning...
‘Are you okay?’
He slowly peeled her hands away from her face, his touch sending shock waves through her system. Each time he touched her it was as if her body were reignited with memories, the images flickering, sounds, gasps, the taste of his skin under her lips. No!
‘I’m just a little dizzy.’
‘When was the last time you ate?’ His dark brows crinkled.
‘Afternoon tea...’ She wasn’t sure if she should read anything into the fact that he remembered her tendency to skip meals when she was stressed. She looked up. ‘Yesterday.’
‘Dammit, Elise.’ He growled the words and shook his head. ‘You have to take care of yourself.’
At that moment Jasmine came jogging in, a long floating skirt swirling around her legs as she moved. ‘Girls, I want you all to practise your tendus for me. The best tendu will get a prize after class.’
The group of tiny ballerinas attempted a few steps on their own before descending into giggling chaos.
‘What’s going on?’ Jasmine’s brows pulled together. ‘Do you need me to take over the class?’
Elise nodded mutely.
‘Someone has decided that calorific intake is an optional part of her day.’ Col folded his arms across his chest.
‘Ellie!’ Jasmine scowled.
‘Oh, don’t you give me any crap.’ Elise held up her hand in warning. ‘What were you like when you were fighting with lover boy a few months back?’
‘Leave the class with me,’ Jasmine said, looking behind her and ordering the students back into position. Her wary gaze hovered on Col momentarily, while she figured out whether or not to trust him. ‘Can you take her to get some food? And make sure she eats it—don’t leave it with her. Watch every mouthful.’
‘You have my word.’
Jasmine rounded up the students and set about conducting the class in her long skirt and bare feet. Taking a deep breath, Elise got up from the chair but her arms wobbled and Col had to help her stand. She closed her eyes, forcing away the swishing sensation in her head.
‘When did you get so skinny?’ he said, his large hand around her upper arm as she steadied herself. ‘I feel like I’m holding a chicken bone.’
‘Don’t start.’
She was a nervous under-eater. Whereas some people reached for chips and chocolate when they were upset, Elise felt ill at the sight of any and all food. It wasn’t as if she habitually starved herself; she just couldn’t stomach anything in times of stress. Was it her fault that those times were frequent these days?
‘Hey.’ Col’s hand came to her cheek, brushing back a strand of her hair behind her ear. ‘I’m worried about you, Ellie-girl.’
‘You’re a little too late for that.’ The lack of food was making her emotional; she could feel the pain simmering beneath the surface, churning her stomach and making her heart thump. Luckily for her she was unable to cry, and that meant she could keep herself in check.
She shrugged herself out of Col’s grip and walked through the studio, behind the class, and avoided Jasmine’s gaze as she left. She waved a quick goodbye to the mothers without stopping; the last thing she needed was anyone asking questions.
‘This is karma, you know.’ Col followed her outside.
The last rays of sunshine threw golden light around the ballet studio car park as the glowing giant orb dipped in the distance. How was it that she was suddenly noticing the weather, the inherent beauty of summer, when normally she rushed to her car without giving the view a second glance?
She shook off the strange thoughts. ‘Karma?’
‘Yeah, for your silly lesson tonight.’
A smile tugged on the corner of her lips. She’d rather have him joking with her than pitying her. Joking was squarely in the realms of her comfort zone along with its good friends denial and repression.
‘Col, you’re paying me for my expertise. Why don’t you let me handle the lesson planning?’
‘If you try a stunt like that again I’ll make you pay for it.’
She stopped at her car and he stood close to her. Awareness ran through her veins at full speed; she could hear nothing but the sound of his breath coming a little too quickly, the scrape of his palm across his stubble-covered jaw. She could swear she heard his heartbeat, or perhaps it was the insistent thumping of her own. Like many times before she failed to see where she ended and he began.
* * *
Elise turned to him with a slow movement carefully designed not to upset her delicate balance. Her cheeks were stained rose-pink, her grey eyes hooded by dark lashes. The urge to kiss her roared in him at full force, his weakness for her as unsettlingly brilliant now as it had been all those years ago. He’d never met another girl like her, not a one that could compare to the layers of maddening complexity and uniqueness that drew him to her like a magnet. She was fiercely independent and yet he knew that beneath the sarcasm and the joking and the flippancy there was a vulnerability so precious and beautiful he would have given everything to have a taste.
He had given everything for a taste once; he’d broken a promise to his best friend and paid for it with everything he had. But something now told him that he’d do it all over again. He’d give up all he had for her over and over. Snap out of it—that ship has sailed. You lost it all last time and leaving her was the right thing to do.
‘And how exactly will you make me pay?’ She tipped her nose up at him, all bravado and temptation.
He leant down so that his lips were near her ear. ‘You don’t want to find out.’
He felt the shiver that ran through her even though there was still a sliver of space between them. He noticed the flare of her pupils, the quick intake of breath, and the way her tongue darted out the side of her mouth. That tongue was going to bring him undone.
‘I think you’re all talk and no action, Colby Hillam.’
‘Elise...’ he growled in warning.
‘All. Talk.’ She sounded the words out slowly, her lips wrapping around the taunt in a way that sent fire through his blood. ‘No. Action.’
Before his sensibilities had the chance to act, he grabbed her by the shoulders and pressed her up against the car with a gentle thud. His face hovered inches from hers, so close that he could see the faded freckles that ran across her nose and the strange little ring of gold that stopped her eyes from being just grey.
Her lips parted in response, though whether it was from shock or invitation he didn’t know. The front of his trousers was so tight that he yearned to press against her, to relieve the pressure, to drown himself in pleasure. Her lashes touched together and she stayed still as a statue. He could kiss her, he could drop his head and plunder that sweet, delicious mouth of hers so damn easily...
Don’t you lose it, don’t you dare.
‘I’m taking you to dinner.’ He stepped back, holding his shoulders square and ignoring the aching dissatisfaction that made his limbs heavy and wooden.
She rolled her eyes. ‘Gee, when you invite me so politely like that, how could I refuse?’
‘Such a smart mouth on such an angelic-looking face.’ He shook his head. �
��And I know for a fact that “polite” doesn’t work with you.’
She opened her mouth to protest when her stomach growled loudly. ‘Fine, but I’m driving.’
After a quick trip they were seated in a small Italian restaurant...emphasis on the small. From the outside it had looked like a family restaurant, a safe zone for him to keep his mind on appropriate topics like her performance preparation. Now that they were seated, the warm glow of a candle softened the light, bringing out the gold tones in her hair, and their knees bumped in the intimate space. And Col did not feel very safe at all.
So far during his time in Australia he’d accomplished little. He’d delayed on cleaning out his father’s house because he couldn’t stand the sight of the place; he’d scarcely looked over the speaking notes his communications person had sent him, and used all that wasted time battling thoughts he shouldn’t be having. Thoughts about all he’d given up when he left.
‘Don’t try and pull another stunt like you did tonight,’ Col said, forcing his mind onto how ticked off he was supposed to be.
‘It wasn’t a stunt. I was merely simulating a stage atmosphere.’ She tore a piece of garlic bread in two and chewed on one half. ‘Just because it happened to hold some personal amusement doesn’t make it any less valuable a lesson.’
‘Don’t give me that. If there’s one thing I know for sure about you, Elise, it’s that you’re aware of each and every little thing you do.’ He took a swig of his red wine and looked at her pointedly. ‘So don’t play innocent with me. I’m not falling for it.’
She nodded and stifled a smile. ‘Can you blame a girl for trying to get a little payback on the guy who did the adult version of a pash and dash?’
‘That was your payback for me leaving? I thought it was for all the times I called you Bun Head.’
‘I wore the Bun Head label with pride back in the day.’ A wistful smile passed over her lips.
‘You lived and breathed ballet.’
‘It was all I ever wanted.’ She circled the rim of her wineglass with a fingertip. ‘Do you remember that time that I was late for rehearsal and you picked me up from work? I had to change in the back of the car because my teacher would have locked me out if I came to a lesson without my uniform.’
Did he remember? Who would forget a beautiful girl in the back seat of their car, stripping out of her work clothes and wriggling into a skimpy leotard and tights? He swallowed, the front of his trousers tightening uncomfortably again.
Guilt washed over him like a slow-moving wave. Giving in to temptation with Elise was one of the worst decisions he’d ever made. Now here he was, five years later, and still looking at her as though she were the most delicious, perfect thing in the world. Had he learned nothing?
‘Fair’s fair, Col. Let’s talk about your presentation, no funny business this time.’ She twirled a fork in her spaghetti and popped the neat forkful into her mouth.
‘What, no emasculating humiliation?’ he drawled. ‘And here I was getting used to it.’
‘No, I’ve had my fun.’ She grinned. ‘In all seriousness, a good place to start would be to look at why you’re scared of public speaking. This might help to work out what preparation techniques would help most.’
‘I was looking more for a “breathe and count to ten” kind of approach.’ He raked a hand through his hair and bounced his right leg in a rapid beat. ‘The whole Dr Phil thing isn’t for me.’
‘If you want to be able to get up in front of all those people you need to do it. Are we talking a hundred people in the audience? A thousand?’
He felt the panic creep up his spine, the tightness close around his neck like a pair of icy hands. ‘I don’t know.’
He’d been avoiding that part of the brief his assistant put together because he knew the kind of reaction it would incite. He let out a breath; this public speaking thing was his damn Achilles heel. He wanted to thump his fist against the table, but instead he held himself rigid and still.
‘Anyway, that’s not important.’ She waved her hand and toyed with her fork. ‘Do you think it’s the size of the audience? You mentioned you were okay with a boardroom, so perhaps we need to find some guinea pigs for you to practise in front of—’
‘No.’ It came out as a snap though he didn’t mean it that way. It was hard to speak, hard to keep his mind from doing that horrible spinning-top thing it did whenever he thought about the speech.
Elise peered at him, her face serious. ‘If you can’t do a practise run then how do you expect to get up there on the day?’
I don’t know. It was ridiculous. A man of his success, with an innovative, ground-breaking technology company to his name and...well, that was really all he had. But it was big. Important. As far away as humanly possible from the derelict life he’d had growing up.
What the hell was he doing? He should tell the conference he had very important ‘CEO business’ to attend to back home and then he could leave without humiliating himself. His heart drummed, the echo bouncing around inside his body. But that would mean cutting short his time with Elise. Every fibre of his being resisted the idea of leaving her, though he knew control around her was tenuous at best.
He should leave. She didn’t need someone like him around, who was all kinds of screwed up.
‘Col?’ Elise’s voice interrupted his thoughts.
‘I’m not doing it. End of story.’
‘Stubborn as always, I see.’
The candle in between them flickered as if sensing the tension crackling between them. Under the table Col felt Elise’s slender leg pressed against his own, and his body heated as if he’d been lowered into a hot bath.
‘Like you can talk.’ He stabbed a ravioli with his fork.
‘I’m not stubborn.’
He thought for a moment. ‘No, you’re beyond stubborn. What would that be called? Bull-headed, perhaps?’
Her mouth formed an indignant little ‘o’ and blood roared in his ears. Feisty, prickly, claws-out Elise was always his favourite version of her. He felt as if that version of Elise could take on anything.
‘Look, this conversation is all very interesting but you still haven’t answered my question.’ She was trying to get the upper hand again.
‘What question?’
‘The one where I asked you why you have such a fear of public speaking.’ She watched him carefully.
‘And I told you I didn’t want to do the Dr Phil thing.’ He speared another piece of pasta and then another, his fork clicking against the china plate.
‘How can I help you if you won’t be up-front with me? You’re paying me—I would expect that you’d want your money’s worth.’
The defiant glint in her eyes made his throat clench. She was the one who’d said she wanted to keep it strictly business, not talk of the past, no questions and answers. Elise never did well with emotion, not those that were as uncomfortable and dark as he experienced anyway. She was raised to be stoic, and now she wanted to know what blemish—of the many—on his personal history made him this way.
He sighed, deciding it would be easier to take the high road. ‘Remember that time when we were kids and we had to give a presentation to homeroom on Family Day?’
Her golden brows creased; her eyes flickered as if she were flicking through the files in her memory.
‘You remember, Elise. Your dad came along and you both gave a presentation on catching bad guys.’
She nodded, confusion still twisting her features while she tried to remember. ‘It’s all a bit vague...’
‘My presentation didn’t go as well as yours.’ A lump lodged in his throat, the humiliation burning as brightly in his chest as it had all those years ago. ‘I was worried enough about having Dad come to the school as it was. I couldn’t say he was a doctor, a lawyer or a cop. He didn’t he
lp people in his job...hell, he didn’t even have a job half the time. Then he turned up drunk.’
He watched blood drain from Elise’s face. Oh, yeah, she remembered it now.
‘He stumbled into the room and puked all over the floor.’ Her voice was a mere whisper. ‘They wanted to call child services but we ended up taking you home.’
‘You let me stay there for a week.’
‘And then after a while you moved in permanently.’ Her eyes flickered up to him.
‘That’s why I hate public speaking. At first I’d thought he’d forgotten about Family Day and hadn’t turned up like the bum he was, but then he stumbled in while I was speaking.’ He swallowed. Talking about it was like slashing open an old wound that had split and healed countless times over his life.
‘Everyone was looking at you. Looking at him.’ He heard the catch in her voice as she processed the memory.
‘Every time I get on stage all I can think about is him, ruining my presentation, showing everyone what I so desperately wanted to hide.’
‘No one will ever do that to you again. He won’t hurt you anymore.’ Her hands reached out to clasp his across the table.
She’d said she didn’t want to talk about the past, but her eyes stared at him as though she was trying to find the answers without asking any questions. He turned his hands over so they were palm to palm.
‘I know.’ Col sighed. ‘He’s dead.’
FIVE
After Elise dropped Col back to his car she drove home, her head swimming with conflicting emotions. She was supposed to be angry at Col. After all, she was only helping him because he was paying her and she really, really needed the money. So why did she feel this aching compassion for him?
Was it because she’d remembered what he’d gone through growing up? Or because she knew that her one night in his arms had bound her to him forever?
She sat in the car outside her house, staring off into space. She supposed that in times of intense frustration others might cry, might scream, might release the tension. But she’d been trained to push it all down, to compact the emotions until they were tiny, dense cubes of feeling that she could swallow and hide away from the world.
Breaking the Bro Code Page 5
