by Trish Morey
So much for wanting to make a point about the irrationality of things happening too quickly. If she hadn’t stopped him, if she hadn’t pushed him away, he doubted he could have stopped himself.
Not the point he’d been trying to make at all. But Monica’s news had thrown him for six. No wonder he hadn’t been thinking straight.
But he was thinking straight now.
The old and familiar competitiveness cranked back into life. Fletcher would soon be sitting in his five-star hotel suite waiting to hear from his sister about Daniel’s reaction, rubbing his hands together in glee while he waited for a nice plump offer for him to disappear to drop into his lap.
The last thing he’d be expecting would be for Daniel to join in the game. If Fletcher wanted to play ‘whisk away the sister’, why couldn’t Daniel do likewise?
Maybe he should just whisk away one Miss Sophie Turner for however long it took.
And he sure as hell wouldn’t let her go again until he knew Moni was safe.
He glanced at his watch. They should be nearing the airport by now. Miss Turner would be thinking she was just about home free.
He picked up the telephone again, punching in another number and smiling for what felt like the first time today, already anticipating her confusion. ‘Cedric, there’s been a change of plans…’
Sophie pushed back into the butter-soft upholstery, willing herself to relax. She’d almost turned her back on the car waiting for her when she’d emerged from the lobby. She’d had enough of Daniel Caruana for one day, and she’d wanted nothing more to do with him and his. But the driver had greeted her with a friendly smile and, much as she resented his boss, she’d had no reason to be rude to an innocent driver—especially one who was probably smiling in relief because it wasn’t Mr Arrogance himself that he was picking up. Besides, she’d had no idea how long it would take to wait for a taxi this far north of Cairns, and the sooner she made it to the airport, the better chance she would have of catching an earlier flight back to Brisbane.
So she’d allowed herself to be handed into the spacious interior of the luxury sedan, satisfied at least that every minute took her another kilometre from Daniel Caruana.
She sighed and dropped her head back against the head rest, closing her eyes and wondering what she was going to tell Jake and Monica. They’d expected resistance to the wedding news, certainly, but Daniel hadn’t even given her a chance to explain the wedding arrangements and the fact that nobody was expecting him to pay for anything. Not that he would have believed her, given he’d already made his mind up on that point.
Apparently nobody went out with his sister unless they were gold-digging fortune-hunters looking for nothing more than a juicy pay-out. And of course he wouldn’t care who was supposed to stump up for the wedding bills. Hadn’t he already made it plain that there was to be no wedding?
Sophie put a hand to her forehead, her fingers trying to stroke away her tension as the car continued down the palm-lined highway towards the city of Cairns and the airport that promised escape. How on earth had Jake ever thought she’d be able to convince someone like Daniel Caruana that this wedding was a good idea? And how was she going to tell him that she’d blown her peace-keeping role big time?
She opened her eyes in time to see the sign signalling the turn off for James Cook Airport. She sighed in relief. At least she’d soon be away from here. Away from Daniel Caruana, the man who could be her brother-in-law.
The man who had almost kissed her…
She jammed her eyes shut, trying to blot away the memories, but she could still feel the brush of his lips, could still smell his intoxicating, masculine scent weaving its way into her senses as his fingers worked their way into her hair and directed her face towards his.
When he’d told her that if he had mauled her she’d have the marks to prove it… Oh my. Sophie dragged in a lungful of air, hot and breathless, the car’s air conditioning was suddenly found wanting. Thank goodness she’d found the sense to turn away before she made more of a fool of herself than she already had.
What was his point? Had he been trying to convince her he was the red-hot lover the tabloids hinted at? Or had he just been toying with her, like some random plaything, before throwing her out?
Either way, the man clearly had no conscience. She was glad she’d have nothing more to do with him. At least not until the wedding—if he even bothered to show up.
Then she smiled. If there had been one glimmer of satisfaction she could take from this morning’s meeting, it had been the moment before she’d left, when she’d finally had the opportunity to tell him she was Jake’s sister. In the scant seconds after her revelation, and before she’d pulled the door closed behind her, she’d seen his look of smug dismissal give way to shock and a kind of numb disbelief.
So maybe she hadn’t managed to convince Mr Hot Shot Caruana to give his blessing to his sister’s upcoming wedding—and maybe she’d blown her role as peace maker—but at least she’d managed to get the last word in. How fortunate it was that he hadn’t allowed her to get a word in edgeways so she could save that little gem until last. That part of the meeting, at least, had been infinitely satisfying.
Sophie looked up, thinking for a moment that the driver had said something to her, only to find him talking into his hands-free phone. She looked around. They were in the departure lane, slowing as they neared the drop-off zone with the maze of vehicles pulling in and out along the kerb before them. She strung her briefcase strap over her shoulder, her hand ready on the door release so that she could quickly alight. Except the driver didn’t pull in to stop like she’d expected but kept on driving.
‘There’s a spot just there,’ she called, pointing to her left, wondering what was wrong with the last two spaces he’d driven past.
‘Sorry, miss,’ the driver said, glancing at her in his rearview mirror. ‘Change of plans.’
‘No, I have a flight to catch.’ She looked over her shoulder as the airport buildings and her escape plans disappeared behind, the first frisson of fear slipping down her spine and taking root in her gut.
She turned back in time to catch the driver’s shrug as he accelerated back along the airport exit-road. ‘Didn’t Mr Caruana tell you? Apparently now you’re going by chopper.’
‘What? No.’ Fear turned to anger as she reached for her PDA and found his number. ‘No, Mr Caruana didn’t tell me that.’
Mr Caruana still wasn’t telling her anything. The young PA told her he was unavailable and couldn’t be reached—perhaps she’d like to leave a message?
No, Sophie decided, breaking the connection. What she had to say to Mr Caruana was best said face to face. No matter what stunt he was pulling now, she’d make sure there’d be ample opportunity for that sometime.
She called her office in Brisbane, something she’d been intending to do once she’d confirmed her flight.
‘Meg,’ she said as soon as her assistant answered. ‘It’s Sophie.’
‘How did the meeting go?’
Sophie pulled a face. ‘Not as well as it could have. I think Monica might be walking down the aisle by herself.’
‘Oh, I’m sorry to hear that. But at least you tried. What time will you be back?’
Good question, Sophie thought, biting her lip as she watched the passing parade of palm trees lining the wide highway, heading the wrong way, wondering if she should let Meg know what was happening. But what was happening? It wasn’t like she was being kidnapped. Not exactly. She still had her phone, after all. It wasn’t as if she couldn’t call for help if she thought she needed it. But that still didn’t mean she was happy about her plans being turned upside down for no good reason and without explanation. ‘I’m not sure,’ she said, and at least that much was true. ‘It looks like I might be delayed. I’ll let you know as soon as I can.’
‘Okay. I’ll hold the fort until you get back. Oh, and don’t forget, you have that meeting at the Tropical Palms first thing tomorrow to finalise
the arrangements.’
‘Don’t worry, Meg.’ Whatever surprises Daniel Caruana had planned, she’d be back in Brisbane long before then. ‘There’s no way I’d miss that. See you soon.’
She snapped her phone shut and looked around. Here the rainforest covered mountains rose sharply from the narrowing coastal plain, and she realised she was almost back at the Palm Cove turn off and the office she’d left barely forty minutes ago. What the hell was he playing at? Surely he didn’t feel so bad about the way he’d behaved during their meeting that he was going to make up for it by having her flown all the way to Brisbane in his private helicopter? She swallowed. As much as she wanted to get back to the office, she wasn’t sure she was too crazy at the idea of spending two hours or so in one of those tiny buzz boxes.
But no, she decided, a man like Daniel Caruana wouldn’t do remorse. It wouldn’t be in his vocabulary. So what was he trying to prove?
Anxiety warred with anger inside her. Her stomach felt like it was already taking flight. The thought of going into battle with the man again set her nerves jangling, and her senses to high alert, but if he wanted a battle that was exactly what he would get.
Because, whoever Daniel Caruana thought he was, however much money he had, he had no right to ride roughshod over other people’s wishes and plans. Not his sister’s. Not her brother’s. And least of all hers. She was just in the mood to explain that to him.
They turned off the highway, the car pulling into a clearing not far from the office block where a sleek red helicopter sat amidst a circle of white markers, its rotors lazily circling. But it was the tall, dark haired figure standing alongside a black coupe that was even sexier looking than the chopper that Sophie focused on. He was holding a phone to his ear, the other hand in his trouser pocket as he leaned against the low sports car, his long legs crossed casually at the ankle, his white open-necked shirt rippling softly in the breeze. He looked relaxed, urbane and totally without a hint of apology, which only made Sophie even more angry.
She was out of her door and on her way across to him before the car had barely stopped. He saw her coming, and even behind his sunglasses she could feel his dark eyes following her every step. But she was damned if she was going to let that slow sizzle under her skin bother her, not when it gave her yet another reason to resent him.
She stopped directly in front of him, although that still left her more than a metre away, courtesy of the long legs so idly stretched out in front of him. ‘Do you mind telling me what this is about? I’ve got a flight back to Brisbane to catch, and the last thing I need is to be brought back here without one word of explanation.’
He uttered something into his phone and slid it shut, deposited it in the top pocket of his shirt and slipped that hand into his free trouser pocket. He looked so brutally good-looking and so frustratingly unmoved that she felt like tearing him limb from limb, if only to get a reaction. ‘Miss Turner,’ he said with a smile a crocodile would have been proud of, a smile that irritated her all the way down to her bones. ‘I’m so pleased you could join me.’
‘You’ve got a nerve. You know I had no choice.’
‘Did Cedric tie you up and throw you in the boot?’ His eyebrows rose. ‘I must speak to him about his technique. I’ve warned him about treating my guests that way.’ He gave a nod to someone over her shoulder, and she turned to see the driver give an answering wave as he drove off. She swung back, her indignation turning to fury.
‘You think this is funny?’
‘I think your reaction is slightly amusing, yes.’
The blood in her veins simmered and spat. ‘Because I object to having my plans to return to Brisbane thrown into disarray by a man who made it plain my presence wasn’t welcome here? You have a strange sense of humour, Mr Caruana.’ She threw a glance at the chopper. ‘Is that thing waiting to take me to Brisbane?’
‘That’s not exactly what I had in mind, no.’
‘Then you can just forget whatever you had in mind. I’ll do what I should have done before and call myself a taxi.’ She wheeled away, pulling her phone from her bag, but she’d barely slid it open when it was extracted smoothly from her hands.
Something inside her snapped. She spun around, lunging for his hand. ‘You bastard! Give that back.’
‘Such language. I should have picked you for Fletcher’s sister from the start.’
Her open palm cracked against his cheek so hard that her hand stung with fire at the impact, and she fervently hoped his cheek hurt at least half as bad. ‘Did you bring me back merely so you could further insult my family?’
Open-jawed, he rubbed one side of his face where the darkening bloom was already spreading under his olive skin. ‘Miss Turner,’ he said, looking down at her, crowding her with an almost feral gleam in his eyes. It was with some satisfaction that she saw that any hint of a smile had been wiped from his face. ‘You continue to surprise me.’
‘I’m sorry I can’t return the compliment. I was warned to expect an arrogant bastard used to throwing his weight around. Seems like I heard right. And now—’ she held her hand out to him ‘—may I have my phone back? I have a plane to catch.’
His fingers only seemed to curl tighter around the device. ‘What time is your flight?’
‘What’s it to you?’
‘Because where I want to take you is only ten minutes away.’
‘Why should I agree to go anywhere with you?’
‘Would it help if I said I didn’t give you a fair hearing during our meeting today?’
She was more suspicious than ever now. ‘I think we both know that’s true, but you didn’t have to drag me back here to admit it. You could have called. I do have a phone…’ She stared pointedly at the fingers still curled around her mobile. ‘Or, at least, I did.’
He chose to ignore her reminder. ‘It occurred to me after you left that I can’t stop my sister getting married if that’s what she really wants.’
‘That’s not what you said before.’
‘Hear me out. I take it Monica would actually like me to be at her wedding?’
Sophie bristled. She’d been thinking that a wedding without a certain Daniel Caruana in attendance held a considerable appeal. But he was Monica’s brother, and getting Daniel’s cooperation was the reason she’d been sent up here. So she nodded reluctantly, little more than a tiny dip of her head in acknowledgement. ‘Monica was hoping you might walk her down the aisle. When I left your office, that prospect didn’t look too likely.’
‘You haven’t told her?’
She shook her head. ‘Not yet. They’ll still be en route.’
He looked skywards, exhaling as if relieved, one hand raking through his thick black hair. Sophie’s eyes were involuntarily drawn to the broad expanse of chest, the uninterrupted view of his strong neck and the deep-olive skin revealed by his open-necked shirt. Monica was tiny when compared to her brother. Her skin was almost a honey gold whereas Daniel’s was burnished bronze, as if he spent as much time as he could with his shirt off, soaking up the rays. She swallowed. She really didn’t need to think about Daniel Caruana undressed. Not one bit.
She blinked, mentally chasing the unwanted thoughts away, only to find him watching her, a glimmer of something predatory in his dark eyes that disappeared even before she’d turned her eyes away, feigning interest in the fringe of palms bordering the lot. Heat flooded to her face. God, he’d seen her ogling him like some drooling teenager—a man she couldn’t even stand. She’d clearly been in the Far North Queensland sun far too long.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said beside her.
Not as sorry as I am, she thought before his words sank in and she realised he was talking about something else entirely.
‘You are?’ It was the last thing she’d expected from him.
Her reaction brought a smile to his face. ‘I’m not in the habit of apologising,’ he told her. ‘It does not come easily to me.’ He sighed and looked over at the waiting helicopter and held up
his hand to the pilot, his fingers splayed. The pilot nodded and turned away.
‘Walk with me a while,’ Daniel said beside her, strolling off towards the trees and a flower bed bursting with colour. ‘Let me explain. You see, my sister’s—Monica’s—email took me by surprise. I hadn’t had time to assimilate her news before you arrived on my doorstep. But you were right. She has never seemed so serious about any man, but she is twenty-one and I can’t stop her getting married, if that’s what she really wants.’
‘It is what she wants.’
He paused, looking as though he was searching for acceptance, although the tic in his jaw looked anything but accepting. ‘And if that is indeed so, then I should at least give you a fair hearing, if only for my sister’s sake.’
They wandered closer to the flower bed where it seemed colour was king. Every colour seemed vivid here, she mused, the reds more vibrant, the greens more intense, oranges looking like flames from the fires of hell. Nothing, it seemed, was pastel, least of all the man walking alongside her right now. He was large and powerful and darker in impression than any man had a right to be, and it wasn’t just the flowers that looked like they’d stepped straight from hell. With his chiselled dark beauty and the power he wore like a cloak, he could be the ruler of the underworld.
She stopped and shivered slightly, not liking the direction of her thoughts, turning instead towards the waiting chopper, the pilot sitting patiently at the controls. ‘So why the chopper?’
‘Where is the wedding to be held?’
She groaned inwardly. Couldn’t he just answer a simple question? The man was jumping around so much it was impossible to get a handle on him. He’d gone from arrogant to abusive to underhand to reconciliatory in the time most people could have lingered over a lazy Sunday brunch. But, then again, what did his character faults really matter as long as he did right by his sister and her brother? It wasn’t as though Sophie had to like him. Not that there was any chance of that.
