He downshifted, slid past a truck, slotted the shifter back into fourth, and released the clutch with graceful movements that were as smooth as his boxing before turning to her. “I’m no doctor, but you’re mighty uptight for a girl on holiday.”
Her glare only widened his grin.
He jutted his chin at the glove box. “All the paperwork’s in there. Registration’s paid up for the year, and I had my mechanic look her over to make sure everything survived the trip before he fitted the new license plates. I don’t know what impressed him more—this masterpiece or the woman who’d maintained it.” He shook his head. “If Abi ever gets sick of my brother, there’s a balding, slightly overweight automotive magician not far from here with a fairly sizable crush on her magic hands.”
And just like that, the warm, floating feeling that had washed away her fatigue and kept her up till three in the morning enveloped her like an L.A. summer breeze. “Yeah, right, like that’s ever going to happen.”
He knew the way and was used to driving on the wrong side of the road, still, it couldn’t have been easy driving a left-hand-drive car and shifting with his opposite hand. He drove with the same effortless confidence he did everything else. She was wondering if anything ever got to him when she remembered the tension stiffening his torso and the concern dragging on his features when he’d left for his meeting the night before.
She’d thought she’d done a good job of hiding her surveillance only to find him grinning at her. He chuckled softly before turning back to the highway and the suburbs drifting by beneath the morning sunshine drenching Brisbane.
“The moment Ryder introduced me to Abi I knew he was done for. The stupid ogre had been shot so many times I thought some shrapnel had lodged in his brain. That was before I got to know your sister.” He shook his head and rolled down his window. “She’s stubborn, psychotically independent, sneaky”—he flashed her a grin—“and one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met.”
Memories flooded her mind as she relived just how incredible her big sister was. The rock she’d been when their parents had died. The war she’d waged with community services to keep them together. The shitty jobs she’d worked to keep a roof over their heads. The dictator Abi had become when Olivia had wanted to drop out of college and get a full-time job. And the superhero Abi had become when cancer had tried taking her life. The very same life her big sister had dedicated to caring for her.
“You’re not so shabby yourself, Doc.”
She turned to find him casually gazing out the windshield like some sort of vintage matinee idol.
“Ryder told me what you went through when Abi was diagnosed.” He didn’t meet her gaze, just continued staring straight ahead with the humid breeze ruffling his hair and the sun glistening off his skin.
She’d been too shocked and terrified to think when they’d received Abi’s diagnosis, which had probably been a good thing. But Jarrah and his family probably knew that better than most. She shrugged and rolled down her window in an attempt to cool the heat flooding her cheeks. “You went through the same thing with your mom.”
He downshifted and overtook a bus crawling up the highway before resting his forearm on the door. “I had five brothers and sisters to share the fear. You did it solo.”
She’d never forget those years and the lifetime she’d spent staring into the darkness as a cardiac monitor counted down the heartbeats of the most important person in her world. She’d passed the endless hours creating a world for Abi that was free of death, hard work, and sacrifice. One filled with the love and laughter her sister deserved. She’d imagined dozens of fairy-tale worlds and hundreds of Prince Charmings, yet never dreamed her sister would find her happily ever after in the arms of a decorated war hero and the heat and dust of his fairy-tale kingdom in a land far, far away.
Olivia had her happy for now well and truly locked down. Some day she might have to get around to hunting down a happily ever after of her very own.
Chapter Five
Jarrah forced himself to focus on the road stretching in front of the Camaro’s bulging bonnet and not the woman curled up in the passenger seat beside him. He needed another ice-cold shower, and it had nothing to do with the scorching afternoon wind buffeting his arm and face.
Christ, the longer he spent with Dr. Olivia Williams, the further he drifted from dry land and everything he knew. He wanted to do all sorts of nasty things to her. Who the hell wouldn’t? The woman did magical things to a T-shirt and faded jeans. Yet it was more than just her effortless sexuality. He’d admired intelligent women, surrendered to powerful women, spoiled compassionate women, laughed with funny women, sparred with tough women, and enjoyed beautiful women. He’d never confronted a creature who combined all his weaknesses into one Kryptonite-laden package. And just when he’d thought he’d unearthed all there was, she’d go and pull something out of her bag of spells that’d have him struggling to mumble anything coherent.
He found his eyes drifting back to her before cursing and tightening his death grip on the steering wheel. The siren had even turned a quiet breakfast pit stop at a roadhouse service station into an insane blend of laughter and torture. He’d never have believed watching a woman drink coffee and eat a couple of muffins could be so sexy. She enjoyed her food with the same unabashed joy she did everything else. And why the hell not? She was completely at ease with the person hiding beneath the flawless skin…he was once again freaking staring at.
He cursed—yet again—and tried not to think about how she’d casually wrestled him out of the way before paying for the fuel the Camaro had guzzled in the two and bit hours they’d driven. He’d been distracted at the time, trying not to stare at her butt, and dismissed it as a lucky move. Until she’d done the same thing after they’d inhaled some burgers, fries, and milkshakes for lunch. True enough, he’d been trying not to stare at her boobs that time, but he’d also been prepared for her tricks. Yet he’d somehow found himself staring timidly at the old dear grinning back from behind the counter while Olivia paid for their snacks and another tank of fuel. The woman had skills, dangerous skills.
She must have sensed his turmoil because a contented yawn drifted through the cabin, followed closely by a sensual groan as she stretched that feline body just inches away from him.
“Are we there yet?”
Even her fake high-pitched whine couldn’t diminish the impact of her groan. He fought off the need to look at her and fixed his gaze on the dead-straight line of bitumen disappearing into the heat haze swallowing the horizon. “One more pit stop before the home stretch.”
She scrubbed her face before straightening. “You want to swap at the next—”
A choked croak somewhere between a gasp and a curse cut off her question. He turned to find her mouth gaping and her eyes wide as she scanned the crimson desolation that had consumed the landscape about an hour ago.
“Is that”—she swallowed and pointed out the windscreen—“is that it?”
The grin that had been slowly spreading across his face with every kilometer they drew closer to home exploded across his face. “Not quite. Baroona marks the official start of the Outback. This is just the preview.”
“It’s…it’s…”
Her words trailed off as she leaned forward and peered out at the endless nothingness. Hell, he’d lived out here most of his life and still struggled to find the words to describe the Outback without sounding like a damned commercial. The look on her face pretty much covered everything there was to say.
Almost ten miles clicked over on the Camaro’s odometer before she finally broke her silence. “How long to Baroona?”
He shifted his hand on the wheel and glanced at the fuel gauge that dropped even quicker than the gauge in his Aston. “I’m hoping it’s less than a quarter of a tank.”
She leaned over and double-checked the gauge before shaking her head. “Christ, I’d hate to think of how many polar bears we’ve killed on this trip.”
; The 427-cubic-inch big block V8 he’d spent the better part of an hour drooling over the day he’d snuck it out of the transport company’s lot was about as far away from environmentally friendly as you could get, yet he couldn’t summon the same amount of genuine regret tainting her voice. And that was just one of the many reasons she was too damned good for him.
Chapter Six
Olivia shielded her eyes from the relentless afternoon sun and studied the sign welcoming her to Baroona, population 834. The sign, like the picture-book shop fronts, empty sidewalks, and deserted streets, was ancient, weather-beaten, and covered with the same crimson dust that stretched to the horizon in every direction. There was a rugged, honest beauty about the place that had her wandering around like a slack-jawed tourist with sweat trickling down her back and between her boobs and the soles of her hundred-year-old sneakers sticking to the tacky asphalt. Thank God Abi had warned her to pack for comfort rather than style.
She couldn’t figure out whom she feared for most: the unsuspecting inhabitants living on the edge of civilization or her hopelessly in love big sister. Lifting her gaze back to the sign, she shook her head and chuckled. “Make that eight hundred and thirty-five, Baroona. And may God have mercy on your souls.”
She turned back to the service station across the street, where Jarrah stood like a model from a Levi’s commercial pumping yet another tank of gas into the Camaro. The locals called it petrol. Whatever the hell Abi and Ryder’s wedding present drank, it was freaking expensive. Baroona had only one gas station, and it appeared to be the only shop open at a quarter past five, so she was more than happy to pay the two Aussie dollars a liter.
Jarrah had slept even less than she had and rejected all her efforts to share the driving, yet he looked as alive and dangerous as he had that morning when pounding the heavy bag. Dave, or Davo as he’d ordered her to call him, the gas station’s way too cheeky elderly owner who’d smacked a stubbly kiss on her cheek, was still bringing her chauffeur up to speed on everything he’d missed over the past year. If her tour guide was bored, it was impossible to tell because the smile never left his face. It was as if the hotter it got and the farther they traveled inland, the happier and more relaxed he became despite the countless messages and email reminders pinging on his phone whenever they got cell coverage.
The Camaro’s immaculate candy apple-red paint hid beneath the same dust the breeze covered her sneakers with. Despite the heat and the flies that seemed hell-bent on kamikaze diving down her throat or up her nose, and more than seven hours’ worth of stiff muscles, she couldn’t stop grinning. Then again, her smile probably had more to do with the man eyeing her from across the road rather than the surprisingly delightful Outback settlement of Baroona.
She cursed her pathetic self even as she added a bit of hip to her walk across the street and under the relative protection of the service station’s rusted corrugated iron roof. “Thank you so much for opening up for us, Davo. How much do we owe you?”
Davo barked out a laugh and turned on Jarrah, who sighed and shook his head. Davo was still chuckling as he limped around the Camaro and patted away the bills she held out for him. “Put those away, love. Your man doesn’t pay for fuel or anything else I sell, and you sure as hell won’t, either.”
She ignored Jarrah’s finger wave and shoved the money into Davo’s chest. “He’s not my man. Please let me at least pay you for staying open for us.”
Davo latched onto her hand with a surprising amount of strength before placing the notes into her palm and gently folding her fingers around the money. “Jarrah knows where I keep the office key. I only popped out to give him grief.” Davo’s sandpaper grip eased, and his sun-darkened features softened. “Then I heard that beautiful voice and saw all those sexy curves and just had to hang around.” Davo turned and gestured toward the Camaro. “She’s breathtaking.”
The reverence in Davo’s voice had her nodding despite her tree-hugging tendencies. “My sister would love to take you out for a drive if you’d like.”
Jarrah chuckled and exchanged a sneaky grin with Davo before hanging up the pump.
“I wasn’t talking about the Camaro.” Davo turned and winked at her before offering her a smile as bright as the sun beating down on the town. “It’s lovely to meet you, Doc.”
While she tried figuring out why she was flattered by the devious old man’s cheeky grin instead of annoyed, he tipped his bedraggled cowboy hat and spun on Jarrah. With a deliberately slow nod, Davo jabbed a crooked finger at Jarrah and nodded again before hobbling off like some sort of gas-pumping Obi-Wan Kenobi.
She had a hard enough time deciphering the Aussie slang Ryder and his family insulted one another with during their Skype hookups. She had no idea what had just passed between Davo and Jarrah. Which was probably a good thing considering the crazy emotions she was battling.
She waited for Jarrah to close the Camaro’s gas cap before holding out the money. “Can we leave it in the office for him?”
“You do that and the grumpy old bastard will track me down and shoot me.” He grinned and took in the cracked concrete driveway, the faded service station and mechanic signs, and the ancient pumps. “That shifty curmudgeon has more than enough money to fix this place up, but he shuts me down every time I bring up the subject.” Jarrah shrugged and fished out the keys from his pocket. “The rest of the town thinks it’s an eyesore, yet old mate Davo reckons it adds a bit of true-blue dinky-di to the place and makes visitors feel like they’re on an adventure.”
She couldn’t help smiling at the shot of Down Under twang Jarrah had added to his normally whiskey-smooth voice as he popped the trunk and stuck his head inside. Being the busybody she was, she moved around the Camaro’s fender and arrived in time to catch him tugging out a dusty black cowboy hat from behind what looked like a doomsday prepper’s survival kit. She had no idea what he planned to do with the moth-eaten hat, but at least she now knew why he’d stowed their luggage in the backseat rather than the trunk. A toolbox and first-aid kit along with an auto shop’s worth of spare parts were crammed around a second spare tire and surrounded by containers of coolant, oil, and God knew what else.
She tapped a machete’s handle poking out from between two clear plastic jerricans of water. “Preparing for the zombie apocalypse?”
He chuckled, but for once it didn’t make her smile. “You never take anything for granted out here. Complacency kills people in the Outback long before the heat and creepy crawlies.”
She’d read countless horror stories of people meeting their untimely deaths in the desert and was silently thanking her subconscious for allowing him to tag along when he dusted off the hat and slapped in on her head. “This doesn’t leave your noggin until I get you a new one. White big-city girl like you will burst into flames out here.” He muttered something to himself before tugging the hat down harder. “If my mother asks, you’ve been wearing this since you left Brisbane.”
The brim covered her eyes and trapped her in a shadowed world drenched with the scents of leather, dirt, and sweat. Instead of making her gag, the earthy aromas conjured up images of cowboys on horseback, desert sunsets, and starlit night skies.
She tilted back the hat and faked a scowl. “And what about you?”
He muttered another curse before capturing her head in his hands and adjusting the hat with his thumbs. He’d hunched down so close the lingering smell of the jelly beans he’d stolen from her private stash drifted across her face as she studied him. His eyes widened and his hands froze as if he’d been shocked by the same electricity shooting through her. Lust, excitement, joy, peace, confusion, anxiety, fear: all the usual suspects that had taken turns torturing her showed up along with a few emotions she couldn’t identify as her heart drummed inside her chest.
He slowly released her and eased back before clearing his throat. “W-we better get going.”
She tried answering only to discover her mouth wouldn’t work. All she could do was nod and stare back
.
He returned her nod yet didn’t move. Instead, he loomed above her for God knew how long before clearing his throat again and slipping the car keys into her palm. “It’s your surprise. You should drive.”
She dropped her gaze to where his hand held hers and swallowed the dust in her throat. How long had it been since she’d been lost for words? How many years had passed since she’d felt like a teenager? The air swirling around them jumped another twenty degrees before he finally released her hand, closed the trunk, and made his way to the passenger side. She tried moving, but it took a few more lungfuls of the superheated air before her jelly legs worked.
The Camaro’s interior was almost as hot as her skin as she woke the beast and pulled out onto the only road heading out of town. With each passing block, the historic corrugate iron-roofed houses and dehydrated gardens gave way to sparser and more forgotten signs of habitation until civilization surrendered to the Outback. She stared numbly through the bug-splattered windshield at the infinite desolation stretching out before her. No telephone poles, no fences, nothing except desiccated scrub, prehistoric rock formations, ochre dust, and a dead-straight dirt road disappearing into the heat haze under an infinite cobalt sky.
They’d been plowing through the desert for about half an hour with only the engine’s rhythmic drumming and the wind buffeting the cabin to interrupt the silence when a mushroom cloud of emerald exploded through the horizon. She eased off the accelerator and turned to her silent passenger, who’d spent the time since they’d left town scrolling through the messages that had flooded his phone as soon as they’d hit Baroona’s outskirts. “Is that the Wishing Tree?”
He tucked his phone away, and the frown that had been creasing his forehead moments earlier vanished as he peered out the windshield. “The one and only.”
A Choice of Fate Page 6
