by Trish Morey
Fury welled up inside her. What would it take to make Daniel believe it? ‘I told him, Jake. I told him you weren’t interested.’
‘It’s okay. It means I need to come back, in that case, so I can tell him where to shove his money myself. There’s no way we’re going to sort this out with text messages.’
She heard the muffled sound of a woman’s voice and a knocking. ‘Soph, I’ve got to go. Talk to you tomorrow.’
‘I’m moving to one of the cabins,’ she said matter-of-factly over an untouched plate of mushroom risotto. She’d only come to the dinner table to tell him what she was intending to do, not to eat. ‘I’ll continue my work from there, which makes sense, given we’ll be having the reception at the long-house pavilion.’
Across the table from her, he put down his fork. ‘You’re still persisting with this farce of a wedding, then?’
‘I spoke to Jake. He’s coming back to talk to you. He’s got things you need to know—need to hear. Like the fact Emma wasn’t carrying his child.’
Daniel leaned back in his chair, arms sprawled lazily over the sides, but she knew there was nothing lazy about him, nothing relaxed. It hurt her to realise how much she missed those arms around her already. ‘You need to talk to Jake about that. He can’t remember the details, but—’
‘How convenient.’
‘Talk to him, Daniel, and hear it for yourself. You made your mind up all those years ago when my brother was lying in a coma and couldn’t defend himself. Was that fair?’
‘It was obvious!’
‘Was it? Or was it easy when you needed someone to blame? Why not pick on the man who wasn’t even conscious? That’s what I call convenient.’ She stood. ‘Oh, and as for your latest offer, do I need to tell you where my brother suggested you shove your one and half million?’
He steepled his fingers. ‘One and a half million?’
‘That’s the figure Jake quoted.’
He leaned forward, an uncomfortable sensation crawling its way down his back. ‘Sophie, let me ask you a question. How is your business doing? I mean, cash wise. Everything all right?’
She shrugged, thrown off-balance, eyebrows pulled into a frown. ‘Fine. We had such a great year last year, we’re looking to either expand our operation, or invest in case things get tight.’
‘I see.’ Whatever had been crawling over his back found its way to his stomach and turned solid. He picked up his napkin from his lap and placed it on the table. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry any more. ‘And Sophie?’
‘Yes?’
‘I’ve got something to chase up now, and I have to be in Townsville tomorrow, but I’d like to talk to you when I get back. You meant that about staying in one of the cabins?’
She nodded uncertainly.
‘Then I’ll see you when I get back. All right?’
She nodded and he gave a thin smile, ‘I’m glad you’re not leaving.’
She walked blindly back to pack her things, feeling even more confused. The monster had retreated, a hint of the Daniel she loved back again.
She stopped dead.
Oh God.
Where the hell had that come from? No way could she love him. No way. Not after all the things he’d done and said, and after the way he’d done everything in his power to break up Jake and Monica. No way could anyone love a monster like that.
Even if she did love his body and loved the way he made her feel when he made love to her. Had sex, she corrected.
Although it had felt like more.
All her own misguided emotions, she knew. Because Daniel Caruana was still in love with a girl who’d died years ago. A girl he’d put up on some kind of pedestal of perfection. A girl he was still fighting for.
He wasn’t capable of loving anyone else.
And yet, if she wasn’t in love with him, why had she found it so impossible to leave? Why had she been so secretly thrilled when he’d told her he was glad she was staying? If she’d really been serious about leaving him, wouldn’t she have moved back to Brisbane, or even to somewhere in Cairns where she’d be close enough to arrange things?
But no. She’d decided to stay on the island. Why?
Because she couldn’t bear the thought of being too far away from him.
Even though he could never love her. Even though anything between then was doomed from the start on so many levels.
She’d known it was a kind of madness that first night they’d made love. She’d known it and still she’d persisted, refusing to pay heed to logic. And now she had the proof of her madness: she loved him. She blundered into the room she used as an office and dropped into a chair, her face in her hands.
What a mess.
Sophie didn’t see him again that night and he was gone early in the morning, the sound of the chopper stirring her from a restless night’s slumber in the guest room. The picture of Emma smiled out at her from the bureau and Sophie had found herself staring back at her long into the night.
How must it have felt to be loved by Daniel? And how special must Emma have been to earn that love? And why did she hurt so much because that would never be her?
With sleep-deprived eyes and a head thick with too many pointless ramblings, she packed up the last of her things onto a golf buggy and waved goodbye to Millie, who was waiting with a basket of lunch and other treats to stock her cabin. ‘I’m so sorry things haven’t worked out for you here, lovey. I’ve so enjoyed having another woman for company.’
‘Me too,’ she said, giving the older woman a squeeze. ‘But I’ll come and visit.’
Millie sniffed. ‘Make sure you do.’
The cabin was dark and cool inside; whoever had prepared it for her arrival had thoughtfully turned on the air conditioner. Without turning on the light, she sank gratefully to the bed and closed her eyes.
What the hell was she supposed to do? Daniel was coming to talk tonight—about what? Hopefully tomorrow Jake and Monica might be back. She’d sent Jake an email so he’d know to call her on her mobile, although she hadn’t bothered to fill him in on why. But she had to admit, it would be easier with Monica and Jake here if she wasn’t living in Daniel’s house and sleeping in his bed. Things were bound to be complicated and ugly enough without that, if they were to find a way through the next few weeks.
Was she even kidding herself to think there was a way through?
She forced herself from the bed. She had no choice but to think that way, which meant she better get herself up and organised.
The meeting had gone better than expected. The arguments the lawyers had voiced that had held things up the other day seemed to dissolve into nothingness, compared to the massive stumbling block they had been. Thank God. At least something was going right.
He loosened his tie, looking out of the windscreen for the familiar landmarks that would mean he was getting close. He wasn’t going back to the office. They didn’t expect him, and he had more important things on his mind—like working out how wrong he’d been.
Why had Jo betrayed him that way? He didn’t know; it wasn’t as if he didn’t pay him enough as it was. But maybe he should have seen the writing on the wall when he’d insisted Daniel pay more to get rid of Jake. The tone of his voice had had greed written all over it. Was that when he’d hatched his plan to steal half the funds for himself?
But it wasn’t only the money. It was his lies that Sophie’s business needed a cash injection, implying from the start she was involved with the scam. So Daniel had a reason to hate Fletcher. Why had Jo been so ready to crucify Sophie into the deal? What was in it for him?
Damn the man. And so much for his pleas to forgive him. Forgive him, nothing; loyalty only went so far. And Jo had shown him he had none at all.
He should have got rid of him years ago.
They rounded a point and the familiar shape of Kallista appeared before them, lush and beautiful, like the woman he couldn’t wait to see. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was going to say to her, but he was hoping that
by the time he got there something would have occurred to him that would make sense to them both.
He was so glad she hadn’t left. He’d spoken the truth when he’d said that. The idea of her leaving was anathema to him. And it wasn’t because he wanted to get even with her brother—not any more.
Because Sophie belonged there. With him. He just had to make her see it.
After all that had happened, the call had still taken her by surprise. The tears that had followed were almost impossible to staunch, the knowledge that it had all been for nothing almost too much to bear. Sophie held the cool facecloth to her swollen eyes, glad at least she hadn’t got far with her unpacking. It would save time.
She took a deep breath and pushed herself away from the bathroom cabinet on legs finally strong enough to support her, blinking away the last of the moisture that blurred her vision, trying to work out what to do next. A warm draught stirred her skirt and she looked around, surprised to find the screen door open. Strange; she was sure she’d shut it. But maybe someone had dropped by with the milk she’d requested and forgotten to shut it. Not that she’d need any supplies now.
She reached for the handle and caught a whiff of stale sweat and nicotine. Fear speared down her spine, clearing her vision quicker than anything, but not fast enough to dodge the hand that snaked out from behind the curtains and grabbed her wrist.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SHE screamed, sensing it was Jo before the glint of gold at his wrist and fingers confirmed it, even before a thick gravel voice told her to shut up. He shoved her back and let go and she stumbled against the coffee table, before collapsing against a bucket chair as the big man slid closed the doors and locked them, pulling the curtains shut so nobody could see inside. Fear seized her at the calm and purposeful way he went about his business, as if he had all the time in the world, almost as if it was a well-rehearsed drill. She shivered. Without taking her eyes from him, she pushed herself out of the chair, putting as many pieces of furniture between them as possible, ‘What are you doing here?’
He sneered, his eyes bloodshot and evil as he turned. ‘You little bitch. You cost me my job.’
‘How?’
He moved towards her and she moved back slowly until she hit up against the kitchenette bench. ‘What did you tell Daniel?’
‘What are you talking about? I don’t know. Nothing that concerns you.’
He moved closer, his eyes wild, and she edged sideways. The last thing she needed was to be stuck in a corner. ‘You told him how much I offered your stupid brother.’
‘I only told him what Jake told me! Why is that such a problem?’
‘You think I was going to waste all Caruana’s money on that scum?’
The penny dropped. ‘You were planning on stealing it! You were going to take your cut, and you’re mad at me because you got your filthy, fat fingers caught in the till. Don’t try to pin it on me.’
He growled. ‘I would have got away with it, too, if you hadn’t shot your mouth off. You owe me!’
She rubbed the wrist that still stung from his grip, trying to work out distance and angles, knowing she had to keep him talking if she was to have any hope of getting out of here before…
Oh no. She wasn’t going there.
He took a step closer and she knew she’d have to move soon. She wondered how long the bathroom door would last if she locked herself in, wondered if she’d be courting disaster to search for a decent knife in the kitchen drawer before she bolted. ‘You should have got away, little lady, while you could. When Millie finally told me you were down here in the cabins, it was almost too good to be true. She didn’t want to tell me, either. Dunno why.’
Fear snaked down her spine. ‘What did you do to her?’
‘She’ll live,’ he said with a leery grin as he rubbed his groin. ‘And don’t worry. I saved the best for you.’
She dragged in air, trying not to retch, looking for reason or an argument that might sway him. ‘Daniel’s going to be here any minute. We’ve got a meeting.’
He laughed. ‘Nice try. He’s in Townsville all day. Besides, he’s obviously finished with you if you’re down here by yourself. Did he decide he’d had enough and threw you out like yesterday’s leftovers?’
Her hands guided her as she edged along the bench top, fingers chancing upon something cane—the basket Millie had given her. ‘You don’t know anything.’
‘I know he only wanted you here because Fletcher was screwing his sister. An eye for an eye, a root for a root.’
His words hit some place she didn’t want to go, and she shoved them aside before they could do any damage. ‘You’re disgusting!’
‘And you’re a slut, but I’m not choosy.’ And then he smiled. ‘Didn’t he tell you he was the one who booked the Tropical Palms? Paid them a million in cold, hard cash to get you here?’
‘You’re lying.’
‘Ask him yourself, at this meeting.’ He laughed at his own joke and took another step closer but there was still a small dining setting between them and Sophie knew it was now or never. She grabbed the handle of the basket with one hand and flung her arm in an arc, letting the basket fly directly at him while she ran around the other way.
She saw a big, beefy arm go up to ward it off, and it bounced away, but not before raining down its contents on him. ‘Bitch!’
But she was already at the door, her fingers working at the lock, sliding the glass doors open. He slammed into her from behind and she crashed against the glass with a scream, her fingers losing the handle, clutching at the curtains, pulling them from their tracks with a crash as he dragged her back. ‘You’ll pay for that!’
‘Let me go!’ She struggled against his more powerful frame, caught a handful of his face and raked her nails down, drawing blood. The back of his hand smashed across her cheek, cracking her head back and momentarily stunning her.
He bundled her in his arms and carried her to the bedroom, throwing her sprawling on the bed. She landed with a whump, rolling over, scooting up to the headboard as far as she could and folding herself into a ball, her hand rubbing her aching jaw. ‘Jake said you were a bully.’
He snorted as he unhitched his belt, and she pulled her feet in tighter. ‘Did he, now? What the hell would he know? He was unconscious for months. Nobody knows nothin’.’
Fear sliced through her like the blow from a scythe, fear and a strange kind of horrific understanding. ‘What are you talking about?’
‘Shut up.’ He moved around the bed and she scooted to the other side.
‘I’ll scream.’
‘Scream all you like, honey. Caruana’s other bitch did too, and it only made it all the better for me. Almost as satisfying as when your brother got lumbered with the blame.’
Realisation hit her with lightning-bolt force. ‘It was your baby! She went to my brother’s that night because she was pregnant with your baby and she didn’t know what to do.’ And, like a second lightning-hit, a more sickening truth hit home. ‘You raped her. The minute Daniel’s back was turned, you raped her, and all the years you let my brother take the blame.’
‘Do you ever shut up? C’mere bitch.’ He leaned over and lunged with surprising speed for such a big man. She screamed as his big fist snared an ankle, screamed louder as he tugged her back down the bed until she was flat on her back.
‘Let me show you what a real man can do.’
Panic made her lash out with her other foot. She felt a crack as she made contact with something that felt like a brick, a sudden rush of pain spearing up her leg so intense that she almost thought the yowl she heard had come from her, until blood spurted from his nose. ‘Bitch!’ he cried, before reaching for her again.
‘Get off her, you bastard!’
And then the bed beside her seemed to explode with flailing limbs and flying fists and she rolled away, falling to the floor, wondering if she were caught in some cruel dream. Because Daniel wasn’t due back for hours, yet somehow he was here.
Daniel rushed to her side and held her close, making out that she was something precious. Like she meant something. She wanted to be grateful to him. She wanted to with all her heart.
Except it was too late.
Cairns Base Hospital was cool and clinical and with just the right amount of detachment Sophie needed. She breathed in the sterile atmosphere, steeling herself, knowing she’d need it for the next visitor. Especially when her heart felt like a bleeding mess.
If only her doctor had been by to discharge her already, she would have been gone before the nurse called to ask if she was up to having a visitor.
There was a knock at the door as she stuffed things into her bag and she turned to see him already filling the space. Damn. She turned away almost as quickly.
Damn. Damn. Damn. Why did he always have to look so good no matter what he was wearing? He looked like he’d just walked out of an article on ‘Saturday-unshaven, designer-casual’ from the pages of GQ magazine: the alpha-male edition.
‘You’re leaving?’
‘The doctor’s on his way. I’m expecting to be discharged. All observations in the range of normal, apparently. No residual trace of concussion.’
‘I can take you home.’
She sighed, her hands stilling over the bag. Home. Now there was a concept. ‘I’ve organised transport, thanks.’
‘Sophie.’ And when she turned back it was to find him right there, so close to her that she flinched. The terror of yesterday’s events was much too recent, the fear that she might throw herself into his arms much too real. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said, dropping his lifted hand as he gave her space. ‘But your cheek…’
‘The swelling will fade, along with the bruises.’ Besides, it was the bruises he couldn’t see that hurt more. ‘I guess it could have been worse.’
