But still there was that niggle. Despite the man she was growing to know, there was still the matter of the information he’d gathered on the Palmers. He’d delved deeply into their personal lives. Knew every minor detail, right down to Bruce Palmer’s dental appointments. It was bizarre and not a little obsessive.
Callie shook her head. Thinking about it wasn’t going to prove anything. If she was to do what Irene expected of her, she needed to find out more details about Josh Tremont himself. More than the fact he was a completely unselfish lover. More than the fact that the mere sound of his footfall coming toward her on the polished wooden floor was enough to set her heart beating like the wings of a startled flock of pigeons.
“Sorry about that,” he said as he moved behind her and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her back against him.
Callie inhaled deeply as his unique scent enveloped her. In itself it was an aphrodisiac to her. Already her body stirred in response. She laughed inwardly. At this rate she’d barely be able to move by Monday.
“I imagine you’re never fully off duty,” Callie replied, relishing the feeling of protection she felt within the circle of his arms.
“I promise you have my undivided attention for the rest of this weekend. What would you like to do today?”
A squall of rain splattered against the glass doors in front of them.
“I suppose a swim is out of the question,” Callie said, gesturing to the rain-washed terrace and sheets of rain that peppered the tiles.
“Why should it be? It’s been years since I swam in the rain. How about you?”
Callie gave an inelegant snort. “I don’t think I’ve ever swum in the rain.”
“Not even as a kid?”
“Especially not as a kid.”
In fact, she hadn’t learned to swim until she’d been at the Palmer Home for Girls. At first the prospect of putting her face under water had terrified her, but eventually she’d overcome that fear and had learned to use the experience to tackle bigger fears, bigger problems, and overcome them. It was another opportunity Irene had opened up to her. Another reason to be grateful.
“So how about it?”
Callie thought it over for a minute. She’d had little enough time in her life for frivolous fun, now here she was at twenty-eight and she hadn’t even done something as fun and simple as swim in the rain.
“Yes,” she nodded her head. “I’d love to. But I didn’t bring my swimsuit.”
“Who said we need to wear a swimsuit?”
A spear of something electric jolted through her. Swim in the nude?
“What about your neighbours? Can’t they see the pool?”
Josh gestured outside. “There’s no one who overlooks us here. It’s one of the things that drew me to this place. We have complete privacy.”
Josh led her through a covered walkway from the side of the house to the poolhouse set off to one side. There, they undressed and ventured out into the rain.
Callie squealed as the cool raindrops hit her, sending her into a half jog toward the pool. At her side, Josh dived cleanly into the water, surfacing about halfway along and encouraging her to join him.
She took a deep breath and dived in. Not as clean as Josh’s entry to the water but competent enough, she decided as she cut through the water. The deliciously erotic sensation against her body was like gliding through silk. The pool was warmer than the rain and the contrast against her skin when she surfaced was invigorating. Laughter bubbled from deep inside.
How long had it been since she’d indulged in something purely for fun. Aside from her shoe habit, which she acknowledged had deeper-seated issues, she tended not to let her hair down like this. And it was way past time she did.
“What do you think?” Josh asked as he swam toward her.
“Bliss,” she smiled in return.
Callie floated onto her back, her eyes closed, relishing the sensation of the rain dancing on the surface of her skin. Josh stood beside her and supported her with his arms before lowering his head to lick raindrops off her breasts. Callie felt the feather-light touch all the way to her core and she moaned with pleasure as he suckled gently at her nipples.
“Now we’re talking bliss,” he murmured.
He seemed to magically know exactly where and how to touch her. Exactly what would make her slow burn and what would strike an inferno. She delighted in the gentle teasing he did now, allowing him to support her weight in the water.
When he suggested that they leave the pool, she was more than ready, and when he dried her slowly in the cabana, before lowering her to the daybed, she thought she couldn’t feel more alive or happier than she felt at that moment.
Later, after they’d dressed and made their way back to the main house, they worked together in the kitchen to prepare lunch. They ate in the informal lounge off the kitchen, joking with one another about water sports.
“You don’t have fun often, do you?”
His question was blunt and came out of left field, catching Callie by surprise.
“Of course I have fun.”
“Then why have you never skinny-dipped before, or even swum in the rain.”
“Not everyone gets the opportunity, you know.”
“In New Zealand? It doesn’t take money to be able to do those things. Most of us live within shouting distance of some body of water.”
“My parents were never into swimming.”
No, she remembered, they indulged in other, darker, things. Things that didn’t include their only daughter and for which she was always in the way.
“Callie, what were they into?”
“Stuff. None of it good. Let’s just say they weren’t involved in the usual family pursuits and leave it at that.”
Josh lifted a hand and gently stroked one finger over her cheek. “I’m sorry about that.”
Callie shrugged. “I survived.”
“Yeah, but every child deserves more than survival.”
There was a thread of bitterness to his voice that surprised her. That same hint of anger she’d observed in him last weekend when he’d talked about his mother.
“You didn’t exactly have it easy yourself, did you.”
She made it more of a statement than a question.
“No, I didn’t.”
Josh tugged Callie across the two-seater they shared, and into his lap. She snuggled against him, loving the way her body curved to fit his.
“Tell me about it,” she coaxed.
As much as she felt like she was intruding on what was obviously intensely private, she hoped he could give her a clue as to why he was so intent on knowing everything there was to know about the Palmers, and why he seemed determined to destabilise their business. As much as it sickened her to have to pry, she knew that if she could get the information that Irene wanted, then, and only then, could she hope to allow her relationship with Josh to become something real. And it shocked her to admit just how real she wanted it to be.
Today had made her realise that she’d had enough of being someone else’s pawn, and she was sick of false pretences. Instead of allowing herself to simply enjoy being with Josh and letting her feelings for him take their natural course, she had to second-guess herself all the way. It was time the deceitfulness ended. But even as she reached her decision, she knew she could do nothing until she’d delivered on her promise to Irene. There was something about Josh that probably wasn’t the truth, either, and she had to find that something out.
“Long story short? My mother worked for an older married man. She had an affair with him. She got pregnant with me. He tried to buy her off with $10,000 and made her move away.”
Callie couldn’t hold back the cry of sympathy that rose from her heart. She knew all about rejection. She’d experienced it nearly every day of the first sixteen years of her life.
“So, yeah, I have some idea of what it’s like to survive. If he’d shown once ounce of respect for her and her feelings, things wouldn’t hav
e been as bad for her as they were.”
“Surely he owed her more than that. Couldn’t she have applied through the courts for support for you?”
“Her pride would never let her. I think she was so hurt when he rejected her that she decided to just disappear off the radar. She changed her surname from Morrisey and adopted her mother’s maiden name and then set out to give me the best childhood she could.”
“So you still got to swim in the rain and go skinny-dipping?” Callie asked with a gentle smile.
“I did—and more. There wasn’t a day that went by that I didn’t know she loved me more than life itself. That’s the kind of gift you take for granted until it’s gone.”
“At least you had that.”
“Yeah, I did. And I promised her that one day I’d make it up to her, but she died before I could give her what she deserved.”
“And your father? He still didn’t help you, even when she died?”
Josh’s bark of laughter lacked humour in any form. “No, I came across his contact details in her things when she died. Up until then I didn’t even know who he was. Mum would never talk about him and whenever I’d bring it up she’d change the subject. Then, later, I’d always hear her crying in her room. It doesn’t take too many times before a kid realises his need to know takes a back seat to his mother’s happiness.”
Josh shifted to one side, letting Callie slide from his lap. He rose and walked over to the bookcase that lined one wall of the room. On one shelf stood a small box, like a miniature pirate’s chest. He lifted it with both hands and turned back to Callie.
“She always kept this at her bedside. Locked, of course, although that didn’t stop me trying to get into it,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “She was good at hiding things, though, and I only found the key after she’d died.”
He dug into his trouser pocket and pulled out his keys and, selecting the smallest, opened the box. From where she sat Callie could see the yellow paper of a stack of envelopes, tied together with a length of faded pink silk ribbon.
“They’re letters, from him. He stopped writing when she got pregnant with me.”
“Have you read them?” Callie asked, feeling as if she was poised at the edge of a precipice. Were these letters the key to what Irene needed?
“Yeah, I made myself read every one of them—even the letter and cheque that were sent to my mother, paying her off and telling her to get out of town.”
“She never cashed the cheque? Why? She must have desperately needed the money.”
“As I said before, her pride wouldn’t let her. I think she felt she’d lost so much already that she wasn’t prepared to lose that, too.”
“I can’t believe you’ve kept them all this time. Wouldn’t it be better to destroy them, to let go?”
“They were my only contact with a father I’d never known. I’ve kept his lies as a reminder of what he owed my mother—what he owed me. And I vowed on my mother’s grave that I’d make him pay one day.”
“Josh, surely you can’t mean that,” Callie protested. “Everyone has to learn to let go eventually.”
She levered herself up and out of the seat and crossed the room to take the box from his hands and place it back on the bookcase next to him. She slid her arms around his waist, desperate to offer him comfort, but he remained rigid in her embrace.
“Oh, yes,” he replied, his voice hard and strangely detached, a total contrast to the warm, loving companion she’d known over the weekend. “I mean every word of it. He’ll regret that he didn’t do what was right. He’ll regret every word of his lies and the world will finally know what a two-faced bastard he really is. And when he’s forced to publicly acknowledge me, he will know that he, and he alone, was the master of his own destruction.”
A finger of dread touched Callie’s heart. She had no doubt that Josh would follow through on his promise, and she would hate to be in the shoes of the man he targeted. If there was anything she was certain of at this moment, it was that Josh was a man driven by his emotions—and given those emotions, what would he do to her when he found out the truth about why she was here?
Nine
T hat night when they made love there was an edge of desperation to Josh’s touch—a driven hunger that Callie ached to assuage—but she knew, even as she finally drifted to sleep in his arms, that she could never remedy what ailed his heart.
The next morning, after a night of fractured sleep, she slipped from the bed and went downstairs. If she couldn’t sleep, at least she could make herself useful and put together something for them to enjoy for breakfast.
It was as she passed through to the kitchen her eyes were drawn to the small chest sitting on the bookcase. Still open. She hesitated a moment, then, with a tentative hand, slid the top envelope out from under the ribbon.
The postmark was dated more than thirty years ago and the masculine handwriting on the envelope stood out in stark black lines. Callie slid open the flap and unfolded the sheets of paper within. No matter how stark the bold strokes of the handwriting they could not detract from the words of love that filled the page. Callie felt a lump form in her throat as she read the first page filled with private words of love between a man and his mistress. Words that spoke of his frustration in being trapped in a marriage of propriety and expectation. A marriage that was barren of the joy of children.
These weren’t the words of a man who lied, of that Callie was certain. She felt as if she were intruding to read any more, as if she were trespassing on what had been a deeply intimate connection between two people. She refolded the sheets and slid the letter back into its envelope. The sheer depth of emotion she’d felt reading that single page filled her with a sense of helplessness and, yes, even envy that one woman had been the object of a man’s love and devotion to such an extent. Her fingers trembled as she replaced the envelope in the stack and carefully closed the lid on the chest Callie firmly believed should have been buried with its owner. The letters didn’t deserve to be used as a tool for revenge.
They were private, a glimpse into the love and loss between two people who loved at the wrong time. A couple destined to be torn apart.
She couldn’t help wondering whether it would be the same for her and Josh. He wouldn’t suffer her betrayal in silence. He’d come for her with all guns blazing, unless she could somehow satisfy Irene’s demands without him finding out.
Somehow, she didn’t fancy her chances.
Irene had celebrated a birthday over the weekend, and Callie had promised to stop in and see her at home after work on Monday. As she drove over the Harbour Bridge to their Northcote Point address, she couldn’t help but keep an eye on her rearview mirror. Her double life was beginning to mess with her mind, and she castigated herself as a paranoic fool for believing that Josh even suspected her of any duplicity. He wasn’t the kind of man to put a tail on her. Oh, no. If he had any idea of what she was up to, he’d confront her, up front and personal, and demand his answers in no uncertain terms.
Callie’s heart ached with the fear of him finding out. The more time she spent with him, the more she could feel herself falling in love with him, piece by inexorable piece. And she knew that was a recipe for disaster. To even begin to think that her love might be returned was destined for failure. She was in an untenable position unless she told Irene she could no longer fulfil her promise.
The very thought filled her with trepidation. She owed Irene everything and she’d felt honour-bound to repay the older woman with her loyalty. All of which made what she was about to do very, very difficult. She couldn’t go through with it. Not any longer. Irene’s obsession with Josh Tremont was unfounded. The two corporations worked on the same playing field, competed for the same work, time and time again. Yes, Josh had had a mole in the Palmer Enterprises structure, which weakened their chances, but now that that mole had been exposed, surely Irene could let go of her fears and rely on the Palmers’ business acumen and longstanding reputation to hold thei
r own.
And let Callie fall in love with Josh.
Callie gripped the steering wheel tight as she took the turnoff that led to the cliff-top home of the Palmer family. She wondered how they’d feel, leaving it all behind to take up the consular position in Guildara.
She punched in the security code at the gate and coasted down the driveway, all the while fighting back the nerves that threatened to send her stomach into orbit.
Irene was her usual impeccable self, rising from the sofa in the formal lounge as Callie was shown in.
“How are you, my dear?” she asked, bussing Callie on the cheek as she greeted her. “You look tired. I hope that man isn’t demanding too much of you.”
No more than she willingly gave him, Callie thought to herself as she forced a smile and shook her head.
Irene exclaimed over Callie’s gift to her, a vintage Chanel handbag they’d seen on a shopping expedition together months earlier. It had cost far more than Callie would ordinarily spend on a gift, but Irene was worth it. Without her steady hand guiding Callie’s life, who knew where she’d have ended up?
“Callie, it’s beautiful. How clever of you to remember how much I liked this. Here,” she said, handing Callie the birthday card she’d included with the gift, “pop this up on the mantel with the others.”
Callie took the card and crossed the room to the wide white marble fireplace. She put her card among the colourful collection already there and idly picked up the card next to it to read the message inside.
It was from Bruce Palmer to Irene. The usual generic kind of card a husband bought for his wife, but personalised with his own message inside. In his own handwriting. Handwriting that was suddenly far too familiar. Handwriting Callie had seen only yesterday in passionate declarations of love to another woman.
Her heart shuddered to a halt in her chest, kick-starting again with an erratic beat that made her fingers suddenly nerveless and saw the card flutter from her hands to the floor.
Defiant Mistress, Ruthless Millionaire Page 9
