by Karen Bell
‘The Duke?’ she asked quizzically.
‘Ducati. It’s the make of the bike.’
Mila pretended to stifle a yawn. ‘Here we go, I’ve heard stories about boys with oversized toys.’ Secretly, she was both terrified and excited but for some reason she didn’t want to give him the pleasure of knowing it. Mila had never been on a motorbike of any description let alone one that looked and sounded more like a rocket.
‘I probably wouldn’t use the words Ducati and toy in the same sentence but then I guess there are toys and then there are TOYS.’
‘Well I can see you’ve got a Jack-in-the-box, and you’re obviously dying for show and tell time to begin, so let’s get on with it shall we?’ If Mila had thought the idea of a night-time swim reckless, then she’d run out adjectives to describe the mode of transport to get there.
‘Have you set your alarm and checked the windows?’ he asked seriously.
‘Only about a hundred times, and my will is up to date in case you decide to kill me on that thing.’
‘Nope, I’m not planning to add to the NSW road toll this evening. My aim in general is to keep you safe. You have been on a bike before haven’t you?’ He was putting the helmet on her head now and adjusting the chinstrap.
Mila smiled up at him demurely. ‘Of course, only about a hundred times.’
It was his turn to raise an eyebrow. The man was a human lie detector. ‘Well you look like a quick study,’ he laughed, tucking her hair under the edge of the helmet. His fingers on her face set her body tingling or maybe it was sheer terror.
Jack might as well have been smoking a cigarette; he was sitting so unfazed in his customized metal box with no less than leather upholstery to match the bike.
‘If you can do it, so can I,’ she whispered to the dog and was rewarded with a lick on the nose.
Ryan reached in beside Jack and produced a women’s leather riding jacket that naturally led Mila to wonder about its original owner.
‘I bought it for when my sisters come to stay. Sorry it’s a bit big on you,’ he added, deftly zipping it up while maintaining that eye contact that had probably induced many a confession.
‘You’re in the safe seat between me and Jack’ he added. Will you be right to get on?’
The bike seat was high but finally Mila was able to answer with some conviction ‘Of course silly, it’s really just like a big old pommel horse. You just pretend I’m not here.’
‘It’s much too late for that.’ He looked at her with a spark that said more than words. Ryan slung his long leg easily over the bike and was barely on when Mila used one of her many gymnastic manoeuvres to jump up and slip in easily behind him.
‘An impressive start,’ he called over his shoulder ‘but there are foot pegs you can use too you know, and handgrips, but I’d be much happier if I could feel your arms around my waist.’
Mila looked down to find the foot pegs and nodded, accidentally banging her helmet into the back of his.
Way to go Mila, you nincompoop - so that was a bit of a give away. She wasn’t quite yet ready to give up the confidence charade but she shyly slipped her arms around his waist anyway.
‘Good to go Captain Kirk,’ she yelled with a little too much bravado. Oh my god Mila could you sound any less like a biker chick and could you just stop babbling please?
Talking was no longer an option as the ignition sparked to life and Ryan took off down the street in what seemed like a single earth shattering moment.
Mila’s dress was flapping madly to the top of her thighs and beyond, but there was no way she was releasing her grip on him. Finally, they slowed into a corner and she foolishly tried to tuck it under her legs, but not soon enough, as the bike accelerated out of the other side. Mila had a moment of panic, convinced she might come off and she launched her arms back around his waist. She decided then and there her dress could flap to her armpits. She wasn’t letting go again.
‘You doing okay?’ he called, taking one hand off the handlebars to pat her knee.
‘I’m fine,’ she lied. ‘Just keep both hands on the steering wheel will you?’ She suspected that he was riding at half his normal speed and probably at about ten percent of the bike’s capabilities. She could feel a world of untapped power begging to be unleashed beneath her, and was intensely grateful that Bronte beach was only about a fifteen minute drive from her place and more like seven minutes on a bike.
Mila looked out, trying to take in the view. As if by design, every traffic light was green and they barely slowed. This would never happen in the car, she thought ironically. She closed her eyes and tried to relax into the rhythm and sway of the bike into each corner. That helped. Less anticipation and more appreciation of the moment Mila. You’re making up for lost time. You’ve got a gorgeous man in your arms and you’re out of that house. What more could you ask for?
Willing herself to relax, she actually began to enjoy the sensations just a few minutes before they pulled in at the beach and once back on terra firma she found herself at once relieved and disappointed too.
They headed down towards the sand. The beach looked completely different at this time. It was practically deserted – just a lone runner on the promenade and a couple here or there in the sand enjoying the near full moon, enormous in the night sky. Mila could have happily followed the glittering silver runway of light that beckoned from the edge of the water and disappeared into the distant canopy of stars.
Ryan was unselfconsciously stripping off his boots, jeans and t-shirt and dropping them one by one to the sand as he chatted about one of Jack’s favourite illegal swimming spots, the natural rock-pool that appeared at low tide. He was wearing Speedos beneath his jeans and Mila was relieved that he seemed unaware of her attention. She kicked off her sandshoes, adding them to the small pile but was too shy to take off her dress just yet.
Jack was off at a pace befitting a much younger dog, excited as he was to get to the water, whereas Ryan seemed in no hurry at all, taking Mila’s hand and leading her on a walk along the water’s edge.
‘Is it true that dogs attract sharks?’ she asked as Jack plunged into the waves, biting at the breakers as they washed over his head and swirled around his legs.
‘Quite probably, and they do feed at night, but there are plenty of fish out there at this time of year to feed any sharks and Jack won’t go far in the big waves. He prefers the Bogey hole over there where he can look for crabs on the rocks.’
‘Sounds dangerous.’
‘He knows better than to actually face off with them. Once bitten twice shy as they say.’
They walked a lap of the beach in the moonlight, enjoying the feel of the water as it ran over their feet and back out to sea. Salt air filled their lungs and their long moon shadows played tag in the undulating sand. The breeze was still warm off the water and Mila felt the stress of her day begin to subside. Each time a negative thought surfaced, she tried to visualise it washing over her before being carried out to sea.
They had arrived back at the protected rock-pool. ‘Ready for a swim?’ he asked as Jack plunged in and resurfaced some metres away.
‘I’ve never seen a dog swim underwater before,’ Mila noted aloud.
‘Jack’s not a dog; he has gills. Besides he loves being somewhere that he doesn’t have to slow down to pee!’
‘Well, now that you’ve made it sound so enticing…’ she laughed.
Ryan waited for her to peel off her dress, oblivious to her nervousness. Ironic, she thought, given her sexual history and the extreme exposure to which she’d been subjected, that she could still feel a shred of modesty, let alone the shyness she was feeling now with his gaze upon her. He looked as if he might offer to help if she waited any longer, so she tried to look unfazed as she shimmied out of it.
The water in the Bogey Hole was still, and shining like a mirror, the passage of the waves halted by the natural rock formation that encircled it. Mila felt as though she was in a scene out of Blue Lagoon a
s they slipped into the tepid water. He let go of her hand for long enough to dive under and perform one powerful stroke that sent him gliding like a dolphin beneath the surface. She could see his graceful form in the luminous liquid and felt the awe that one feels in nature. He surfaced in sepia tones and beckoned for her to join him.
Mila too, was a comfortable swimmer. She loved the sensation of being completely submerged. During the warmer months, she and Adie had often come after school with the kids to this very spot and Mila had always felt it a sanctuary, where for an hour or two she could escape to another world.
She swam easily towards his underwater form, though it took three of her strokes to his one. When she surfaced, there were barely inches between them and he lifted her into his arms so that they were face to face in the moonlight. Their bodies touched and Mila felt the ridges of his stomach muscles against her belly. He looked down at her with a longing that unhinged her remaining composure and she closed her eyes, melting into his touch. She felt the exquisite sensation of his hand running from the small of her back up to the nape of her neck and under her hair where he cradled her head as he kissed her.
Their mouths met as if designed to fit and Mila was swept away in the depth of his passion as his lips and tongue explored her. She had never known a kiss could feel like this, never experienced such connectedness from such a simple act and she never wanted it to end. He murmured for her to take a breath. She did as she was asked, the two of them slipping under the water, still locked in embrace.
The kiss continued beneath the surface, her body languid, and his hard as they twisted and rolled in a slow underwater dance. He wrapped one of her legs about his waist and she responded by entwining her other leg about his. It was as if neither needed air to survive. His hands drifted over her as their bodies turned fluidly beneath the surface. He was leading the dance but Mila’s lithe form echoed his every move. Occasionally they came up for a breath before sinking back down to their alternate universe and Mila lost track of time.
It was a seamless progression when undid the ties on her bikini top and perfectly natural when he slipped off his swimmers and her bikini bottoms too. It felt neither lurid nor contrived, but more like a rebirth, as if they were soul mates, cocooned in the same womb. Eyes closed, they communicated using an exquisite form of Braille, and as her hands read the lines of his body, Mila thought it a book she never wanted to put down.
His lips found first one eyelid and then the other and she opened her eyes under the water. He wanted to see her and for her to see him as if the sense of sight was now an important layer in their evolving language. The outer universe ceased to exist and Mila watched their bodies with fascination; as beautiful as was his, so was hers, the contrast between their forms as fitting and as purposeful as nature intended.
His hands found Mila’s hips and guided her gently onto him. She responded by locking her ankles behind the small of his back, the further union exquisite in its intensity. Time stood still as their rhythms slowed and synchronized. Mila felt as complete as she had ever felt. Unashamed and unjudged, just lost in the sensations between them. She could feel his heartbeat steady and life affirming, as her chest pressed against his. There were possibly minutes between breaths but neither felt any compulsion to surface, their bodies tangled, their kiss, an intimate universe of its own.
They came up for one last breath before Mila felt a tide rising between them. His fullness engulfed her from within and she tightened around him and pressed even closer. He sensed her spilling over and contained himself no longer. Together they rolled over and over, eventually rising to the surface with the last of their air bubbling about them.
The beach was now entirely empty and he held her hand as they floated on their backs, naked in the moonlight. The southerly was pushing dark clouds across the moon and Mila gave a shiver as the breeze picked up. Several shards of lightening streaked across the distant sky, creating a dramatic light show that added to the surrealism of the experience.
‘Are you okay?’ he asked.
She squeezed his hand in response, with no adequate words coming to her.
‘Time to go then,’ he sighed. Mila felt lost when he finally let go of her hand and dove down to retrieve their swimmers from the sand bed below.
Reluctantly they swam naked to shore and Ryan gave a whistle. Jack appeared shortly, over the rise of the rocks and picked his way over to them. Mila and Ryan had no towels but he used his t-shirt to dry her like a small child before slipping her dress over her head and pulling his jeans over his bare body.
He held her hand as the three of them walked towards the road. Sheet lightening lit up the horizon and the first clap of thunder rumbled overhead. It heralded for Mila a gust of melancholy at the thought of leaving this life-changing utopia and returning to her dark and empty home without him.
As if reading her mind, Ryan whispered ‘I don’t think I’m ready to let you go yet. Say you’ll you come back to my place, at least for a while.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Right across the road… mine’s the old maid among the mansions.’
Mila looked up to see an unassuming Victorian cottage at the end of a small cul-de-sac, dwarfed by its hard-edged monolithic neighbours. There was a light on the front porch and another inside that looked far more inviting than the modern glass structures on all sides.
‘I’d like that. I don’t want to go home yet either,’ she answered truthfully.
CHAPTER TWENTY
Mila had no preconceived notions about the sort of home Ryan would live in, but when he ushered her from the old timber porch through the front door, she was immediately captivated by the warmth of the space.
Two comfy looking sofas reclined either side of an open fireplace, facing one another as if deep in conversation beneath the glow of table lamps that Ryan had left on. Each was beautiful in its own authentic way, one a soft nubuck leather in a rich caramel, the other an equally well-loved piece in a midnight blue velvet. They looked as though they had shared an interesting life and were now reminiscing. A driftwood and glass coffee table lightly stacked with books nestled happily between them. The room was ordered but inviting, and Mila could easily imagine winters spent snuggled up in front of the fire and summers with the windows and shutters thrown open to the sea breeze.
Despite living alone, his home was a real home. Not a bachelor pad or a showpiece but a collection of old, new, retro and eclectic – every piece an extension of him. Looking about, Mila was struck by how many of his passions she had yet to discover. She had not known he was musical and yet there were several guitars in one corner and a record player sitting on a red mahogany side board.
Mila traced her fingertips over his collection of vinyls, recognizing many of the classics that her parents used to play. Who would have thought?
Ryan had slipped away to bring Mila a towel for the shower and stealing a look down the corridor after him, she spotted several surfboards hanging horizontally along the walls. She continued to wander about the room looking at the artwork - originals and limited editions made up mainly of Australian artists; some she knew, some she didn’t. Each one told her a little more about him and she loved his choices, from rural landscapes in oils and watercolours through to mid twentieth century figurative works and even a Brett Whitely. His connection with his childhood on the land was clearly reflected, as was a love of the human form.
Beneath one window was another sideboard, this one an art deco piece in honey tones, its gracious maple curves begging to be touched. Mila was looking at the dozens of framed photos sitting on its polished surface when Ryan came back carrying a small stack of fluffy white towels.
‘I can see you’ve met the family. We’re a motley crew,’ he laughed.
‘Not at all, I was just thinking how genuinely happy you all look and what a gift it is to have so many nieces and nephews.’
‘Well that’s true, but we’ve had our moments, like all families.’
&nb
sp; Mila thought of Robert and couldn’t help lamenting to herself that this might have been how her home would have looked if she hadn’t lived with his obsessive compulsive disorder. No photos, no clutter to collect dust, no unnecessary purchases. She shivered involuntarily.
‘Come on, let me show you to the shower. It’s a bit temperamental so you’ll need to turn on the hot first or it’ll never warm up. I’m going to rustle up some supper and then jump in when you’ve finished.’
They caught each other’s gaze and he must have read her thoughts.
‘Oh no,’ he grinned. ‘I’ll pretend you didn’t just give me that look. I’m hungry and thirsty after that walk and you must be too. Are you a sweet or a savoury girl at this time of night?’
‘Any or all of the above,’ she answered realizing that she hadn’t eaten at all since breakfast. After the ordeal at her place, it wasn’t surprising that she hadn’t been able to look at food.
She stood under the shower some minutes later desperately wishing she could confide in Ryan about what had taken place. Mila, don’t even think about it. You can’t afford to endanger Holly. He made that very clear. Keep your head, and pay off the bastards. You only have to wait until tomorrow to go to the bank and sort this out. It will all be okay.
For the umpteenth time that night, Mila pushed the nagging thoughts from her head. In theory she knew there should be plenty of money in the bank, but there was a foreboding that she couldn’t seem to shake.
She stepped out and dried off, realizing that she had no underwear and her bikini was still wringing wet. Ryan had left out a hair comb and some talc but he was not the sort to keep a hairdryer. He had a couple of bottles of aftershave on the vanity and Mila picked them up one at a time as she combed her hair. The middle one was the scent he’d worn when they’d gone out for dinner. It was rich and spicy with vanilla notes to round it out, but it had appealed to her even more after a few hours on his warm skin. She closed her eyes, recalling the magic of that night.
