With no thought for the passing traffic or curious shoppers, Damon opened his arms and drew her to him. Eyes closed, holding back tears, he wrapped her tightly against him.
He’d never needed anyone the way he needed Bella now. She, alone, could save him from drowning.
This time when Bella and Damon once again headed north, they were in a sturdy, all-wheel-drive station wagon, and Bella was aware of a distinct shift in their mood. Sergeant Jemison’s disclosure about Damon’s father had opened the door on their past, releasing emotions like moths from a dark closet.
Her heart wept for Damon. He’d always acted so tough, as if he didn’t need or want his father’s affection, but today he’d been forced to accept that his bonds to his dad had never been completely severed.
Bella could only guess at the shock he’d felt when he’d heard that his father had loved him from afar and in secret. The Cavello family ties were as deeply buried and twisted as old tree roots, but the emotions were real and alive. And painful.
Damon had trembled as he’d clung to her, as if something deep inside him had cracked open. And in that poignant, heartbreaking embrace, she hadn’t only felt the raw honesty of his pain, but she’d sensed his need for her—as strong and powerful as ever—as if he’d taken an irreversible step closer to her.
Afterwards, however, they hadn’t spoken about it.
Damon had quickly resumed a businesslike demeanour as he’d filled in forms and organised their new hire car. When they stowed their luggage and drove away once more, he was a little paler and quieter than usual, but Bella didn’t want to pry by asking questions, and she suspected he wasn’t ready to be jollied into a better mood.
In time he might want to talk about his father, or he might not. It would be his choice.
As they drove on, with the road unfurling like a ribbon beneath their tyres and a long day of driving stretching ahead, Bella hunted for a safe conversation topic.
‘It was interesting to see your reaction to the TV news last night,’ she told him. ‘The way you jumped on the phone—the dedicated foreign correspondent in action.’
‘I’ve had my eye on that grub for years. I’d hate to see him slip through the net.’
‘It must be very satisfying to know you can really make a difference through your work—when you can do something special—actually saving lives.’
Damon shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’
‘I know you do, Damon. What about that time all the people were stuck on a border crossing way up in the mountains? Winter was closing in and the messages weren’t getting out to the aid agencies?’
His eyes widened with surprise. ‘Okay. I admit that was a good outcome. It was also a good story and I happened to be the only correspondent up there.’
‘How did that happen?’
‘Good luck, or bad luck, depending which way you look at it. Our chopper had put down in bad weather, so I was waiting for it to clear. And there they were—hundreds of people trapped, and no one knowing about it.’
He shot Bella a searching glance. ‘That happened two years ago.’ ‘Yes, I remember.’
His eyes widened. ‘I didn’t know you were so well-informed about world events—or my career.’
‘You’re not making sexist assumptions, are you, Damon? I read more than fashion magazines and romance novels. I’m also concerned and interested in what’s happening in the rest of the world.’
‘Of course you are. I should have known that. You were always keen to find out about the world beyond Willara even when you were a kid.’
His smile sent warmth swirling all the way through her.
As they drove on she sighed. ‘I’m afraid I don’t do enough to help the people in other countries.’
‘You’ve been helping your parents,’ Damon reminded her.
‘That’s true. And I know charity starts with your family, but—’ Bella stopped in mid-sentence as she saw the sudden tightness in Damon’s jaw.
He was tense because she’d raised the F word. Family.
It occurred to her that they’d been travelling in opposite directions for the past ten years. Damon had set clear career goals that had taken him farther and farther away from his family. She’d stayed in Brisbane, which was reasonably close to Willara, and she’d become totally involved in helping her parents.
Now they were both at an uncomfortable crossroads.
Damon had come home, but he still wanted to avoid his past. She, on the other hand, was more or less freed of her family responsibilities, and in a position to travel and do whatever she liked, but she had no focus, no goal.
Not that there was anything to be gained by pointing this out to Damon.
Ahead of them, she saw the police station where they’d been detained. At least that ordeal was behind them.
Wanting to throw off their sombre mood, she said, ‘We should call out good morning to our friend the constable.’
Damon grinned. ‘I like the way this girl thinks. Yeah, why don’t we give him a wave?’
His face had brightened in a flash and she saw the naughty-boy smile she remembered so well, and, yes, there was a tad of defiance as he lowered his car window.
Bella let her window down, too. Already they were passing the neat little police building, and together they waved wildly and let out whoops and loud cheers.
There was no sign that they’d been heard, but it felt good to let off steam. By the time they’d sped past, they were laughing like silly schoolkids.
They exchanged sheepish smiles.
‘I feel a damn sight better after that,’ Damon said.
‘Me, too.’ Bella’s smile was broad. For a brief moment, the years had dropped away, and they’d been their old selves.
She took a deep breath, and looked with new appreciation at the sunny blue skies overhead, and at the grassy cattle plains stretching wide on either side of them, the road as straight as an arrow. She found herself thinking fondly of the fun they’d shared in their past, when they’d been full of life and adventure.
‘Do you remember some of the crazy things we used to do? Remember the hose fights? Or the time we smuggled you in a red wig and a tracksuit into the back of the netball bus?’
Damon chuckled. ‘I’ll never forget the look on my mates’ faces when I waved to them out of the back of that bus.’
A moment later, he said, ‘What about that time our English class placed a real-estate ad in the Willara Chronicle and we almost sold the school?’
‘Oh, heavens, yes.’ Bella laughed again as she remembered. ‘I still have a copy of that advertisement. Lot four, Stevenson Road, Willara. Plenty of room. Grand old bargain. And then … the principal’s phone number.’
‘It was an April Fool’s joke.’
‘Strangely, Mr Brady didn’t see the joke. He stood your whole class up at assembly, and said that every one of you would be punished unless someone confessed. So, of course, you stepped up.’
‘Did I?’
‘You know you did.’ Bella looked at him. ‘You were always willing to take the blame.’
‘Someone had to.’ Damon gave another shrug, then he turned to her with a thoughtful smile. ‘What I mainly remember about those days is kissing you.’
Oh, help. Coming out of the blue, his comment sent Bella’s cheeks flaming. By sheer willpower, she managed to speak calmly. ‘I thought we’d agreed not to talk about any of that?’
‘Sorry, but you started reminiscing,’ he said, still smiling.
Bella felt more like crying.
Midmorning, she tried to phone their grandparents in Port Douglas, but there was no answer and no message bank, so no opportunity to make contact.
‘They’re probably out with their friends having a good time,’ Damon suggested.
‘I’m not sure about a good time if they were racing off to Port Douglas for an emergency.’ Bella frowned. ‘They might be at a hospital, or something grim like that.’
‘Unless they used their emergency
excuse as a cover.’
‘Why would they need a cover?’
‘They’re our grandparents, after all. Perhaps they’ve taken off in search of adventure. Or romance.’
‘Damon, be serious. Paddy and Violet are both in their eighties. You were terribly worried about Violet.’
‘That’s true,’ he admitted. ‘And I’ll continue to worry about her until I hear that she’s safe. But until we get to Port Douglas, there’s not much we can do. So, it’s not really worth dwelling on the negatives.’
Watching him, Bella saw the start of another smile. What’s this all about? It was almost as if he was reverting back to the old Damon.
‘So you haven’t considered the possibility that Violet and Paddy have run away to elope?’ he asked.
‘No, I certainly haven’t.’
‘You don’t think there’s any chance of romance between them?’
‘Damon, they’re old friends. They’ve known each other for years. If they were going to have a romance, they wouldn’t have waited till they were too old.’
‘I’m sure they still feel young at heart.’
Bella rolled her eyes at this, but she couldn’t help thinking about growing old and leaving things too late. She tried to imagine meeting Damon again when they were in their eighties and her heart gave a ridiculous leap, swiftly followed by a sweet, aching pang.
She sighed. It was useless to imagine romance with Damon in her old age, or at any age for that matter. She shouldn’t even be thinking about it. If she’d fallen in love with anyone, it probably should have been Kent. But life was incredibly complicated and, unfortunately, emotions couldn’t be organised on demand.
‘You’re very pensive.’ Damon sent her a searching sideways glance. ‘I’m sure they’re okay.’
‘Who?’
He chuckled. ‘The people we’ve just been discussing. Our beloved grandparents, Paddy and Violet.’
‘Oh, yes … of course.’
‘So obviously you were thinking about something else?’
‘Sort of. I started wondering about old age, and then I was thinking about—’ Bella hesitated, but Damon was waiting for her answer.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she said. There was no point in telling him she’d been thinking about her close call with Kent. That was behind her now. She had to try to work out what she was doing with the rest of her life.
But not today.
They drove on. The sun climbed high and the miles slipped away, and after a while Bella turned on the radio and they listened to music.
They passed through lush green sugarcane fields around Mackay, then stopped in Proserpine for lunch. Bella took a turn at driving, heading on through Bowen and around the outskirts of Townsville. From time to time, they talked—about the music on the radio, or about the scenery. They listened to a rather frustrating debate about global warming.
Whenever the news came on, Damon switched stations, much to Bella’s surprise.
‘I thought you’d be desperately interested in the news,’ she said.
He shook his head. ‘I get too intense about it, and I’m supposed to be on holidays.’ He sent her a lazy smile. ‘The world can do its worst for the next few days and someone else can report it.’
How interesting, she thought. It really has been a day of changes.
By late afternoon, they were approaching Cardwell, a sleepy beachside town nestled on the edge of a tropical bay with palm trees, a sunset and a gently lapping sea.
‘I think we should stop and take a look here,’ she said. ‘It’s lovely. We could have our dinner here.’
Damon was out of the car almost as soon as she pulled up. He let his head fall back, and drew in a deep lungful of the salty sea air. ‘This is terrific. We should check out the accommodation here, and see if we can spend the night.’
Bella’s mouth gaped in surprise. ‘I thought you wanted to keep driving all night.’
‘But it’s so peaceful here.’ He arched an eyebrow. ‘Why would we want to rush past a lovely place like this?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE Coral Shore motel was very happy to offer them two separate rooms.
They dined on fish and chips, at a table on a white-painted veranda over which pink bougainvillea climbed. Their view was perfect—a tranquil, turquoise sea dotted with emerald-green islands and framed by palm trees.
After their meal, they strolled along the beach at the edge of the water, their bare feet pressing smooth, weathered lumps of coral into the damp sand.
The tropical air was tinged with purple from the last of the sunset. Their footsteps were accompanied by the soft lap-lapping of gentle waves, and an almost-full moon painted a silken, silvery path over the darkening waters.
It had been a hot day, but now a soft breeze blew, cooling Bella’s skin and playing with flyaway strands of her hair, lifting the hem of her light cotton skirt.
Everything about this place was perfect, she decided.
For the past year and a half she’d been too busy racing between her work in Brisbane and her parents in Willara. She’d missed taking time for trips to the beach and now she found this setting idyllic and utterly magical, especially at the end of a rather surprising day.
Quite a different day from yesterday’s drama with the police, but still unexpected … bringing this morning’s emotional bomb-shell … then the exchange of happy, silly memories with Damon.
Most important of all, she’d rung Port Douglas again and had been able to get through to Paddy and Violet at last. Paddy told her that his old mate, Mick, had died two nights ago, and today he and Violet had been at the funeral and the wake.
Of course, Paddy was shocked to hear that Bella was in North Queensland. ‘But, Bella, you’re getting married on Saturday. I’m still hoping to be back in time for your wedding.’
Luckily, when she explained about the wedding, her grandfather took the news quite calmly.
‘But does that mean you’re travelling all this way on your own?’
‘No, Damon’s with me.’
‘Damon Cavello?’ This time there was no disguising his shock.
‘He’s worried about Violet. We were both worried, about the two of you, so we came together.’
Paddy chuckled then, surprised and delighted that anyone had come so far to rescue them.
It was just one more surprise in a surprising day. Bella thought. A day that had wrought an unmistakable change in Damon.
How could she have guessed that the man who’d driven all through the night would now want to wander along a tropical beach at dusk?
Mind you, this walk was causing a minor problem. It wasn’t easy to ignore Damon’s breathtaking masculinity in this romantic setting. Moonlight glistened on his black hair and highlighted his dark throat against the whiteness of his open-necked shirt.
And when he turned to her his smile made her chest ache.
Bella was terribly afraid that, despite her best efforts, she hadn’t gotten over this man, and she was going to be utterly miserable when he left her again. As he must. Now, as he stopped to pick up a smooth pink-and-white shell, she couldn’t hold back a sigh.
He was smiling as he held the shell out to her. It was very pretty and delicate—perfect, without any chips or holes.
‘It reminds me of you,’ he said. ‘It looks feminine and fragile, but it’s actually quite tough and brave.’
To her dismay, her eyes were suddenly stinging. ‘Thanks,’ she said quickly. ‘I might keep it, then.’ Hastily, she slipped the shell into a pocket in her skirt.
She gave herself a stern lecture as they walked on. Damon had no idea how vulnerable she was right now. He had no idea she was battling with a head full of sweet memories and inappropriate longings. If he kept telling her such nice things she would break down and make a complete fool of herself.
They reached the end of the beach where a narrow channel separated the mainland from the steep, tree-studded spine of Hinchinbrook Island. Standing at th
e water’s edge, they watched a small sailing boat make its way across the channel to an old wooden jetty on the island’s shore.
Damon drew in a long, deep breath of cool, cleansing sea air and thought how beautiful it was here. So peaceful.
The sky was gradually growing darker, but it was perfectly clear, without a single cloud. Stars were appearing one by one, and, apart from the gentle lapping of waves at the sea’s edge, the water was completely still.
He and Bella were the only people on the beach.
At that moment, it was quite possible to imagine they were the only two people on the planet.
Maybe I can relax now. Maybe now I can finally let go for a while.
He reached for Bella’s hand and felt her sudden tension, saw the flare of surprise in her lovely green eyes. Almost immediately, her expression softened. Her cool, slim fingers linked with his and he was keenly aware of their skin touching, of their palms and fingers coming together, creating delicious centimetres of contact. He hadn’t realised how he’d craved this simple gesture of comfort.
It was a perfect moment … his lovely Bella by a tropical sea … It was last night’s fantasy come true. He lifted her fingers to his lips. Then, unable to resist anymore, he gathered her into his arms and kissed her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
ONE kiss was all it took.
One kiss fuelled by ten years of longing.
From the first trembling touch of their lips, Bella forgot everything except Damon.
In high school, he’d taught her how to kiss. Now, all these years later, he tasted exactly as she remembered. The texture of his lips, the pressure of his hands drawing her hard against him, the delicious stroke of his tongue.
Everything was utterly, instantly familiar.
But now she sensed a new level of expertise in him, an earthiness that drugged her senses and melted her inhibitions with staggering ease. From the moment they took the kiss deeper she could feel herself sliding helplessly into a hot, spiralling tunnel of need.
There was no point in trying to pretend she didn’t want this. No time for discussions or debates.
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