This time Amie’s tears were genuine. They spilled down her face. She gulped and snivelled.
“Tissues?” Cate demanded of Daniel.
He released her and fetched a tissue box from the kitchen, dropping it into Amie’s lap and crouching down beside her. He waited till she’d recovered herself enough to blow her nose and wipe her eyes, then said. “Looks like you’ve some apologising to do.”
“I know. But Rob doesn’t listen to me. I was desperate.”
Daniel looked like he wanted to argue, but now wasn’t the time to point out to Amie the immaturity of her behaviour. Rob had already, devastatingly, done so.
“And I’m sorry, Cate, about what I said. I know you have a heart. You’re braver and kinder than me. I was so angry that Rob respects you in a way he doesn’t respect me. You heard him: he thinks I’m a little girl.”
“So prove him wrong,” Daniel said.
“He won’t even want to see me. I threw my b-b-beautiful ring at him.”
Daniel hooked the ring out of his pocket.
Amie fumbled and slid it back on her finger. She sniffed. “Do you think Rob will forgive me?”
Neither Cate nor Daniel answered.
Amie attempted a wobbly smile. “I guess I should ask him.”
“In the morning,” Cate advised. Rob in a rare rage wouldn’t listen now.
Amie nodded. “Yeah, and after the Middle Eastern delegation has gone home.”
“You’re learning,” Daniel said.
Her smile steadied. “You would say that. Whatever you do, Cate, don’t marry a businessman. They have their priorities mixed.”
Cate glanced at Daniel, but he didn’t mention to Amie his change of status to ex-CEO. Did she already know his plans, or wouldn’t she care? Probably she was too emotionally battered to take in the information now.
“I think I’ll go home and work on what I’ll say to Rob.”
“I’ll drive you.” Daniel rocked back on his heels and straightened. “You can’t drive in the state you’re in. You’ll be a danger to others.”
“But that’ll leave me without a car in the morning.”
“Amie,” Daniel chided.
“Grow up and stop being selfish,” she filled in the blanks.
Cate gave her a quick hug. “How about I follow Daniel to your flat, and then he’ll have a lift home? I have a driver’s license and no speeding tickets.”
“Thanks, Cate.”
“Good plan. Ferrari or four wheel drive?” Daniel asked.
“Oh.” She had forgotten how expensive his cars were.
“Ferrari.” He collected the keys and gave them to her. “And thanks.”
Peak hour had ended, and the drive to Amie’s flat only took ten minutes. Cate could have done with a longer drive to straighten out her thoughts.
Amie truly loved Rob. Daniel hadn’t manipulated her into the match. Now the question was, did Rob love Amie? And if he did, how was such a combustible relationship to survive?
“That is not your business,” Cate lectured herself. She was here solely to be sure in her own mind that Rob freely chose marriage. “And if he’s not?” If he stuck fast to Amie’s impulsive breaking of the engagement, how would Amie cope?
Cate followed Daniel and Amie into the car park of her apartment block, and watched Amie hug Daniel, then wave to her. As she vanished through the front doors, Daniel opened the Ferrari passenger door.
“Would you prefer to drive?”
He sunk back against the seat. “No.”
“Is Amie okay?”
“No and yes. She doesn’t want me to phone Mum. I think she’ll have a private cry before sitting down to plot her reconciliation. I don’t think she expected Rob to blow up the way he did, and now she feels singed.”
“Me too,” Cate said wryly.
Daniel agreed. “Not quite the evening I hoped for.”
There was a moment’s silence as she negotiated a busy roundabout. “I was wrong. Amie definitely loves Rob.”
“Umm. But does Rob love Amie?”
Cate shot him a swift glance. “I thought you were sure he did?”
“Second thoughts—Rob’s not mine. Maybe he’s decided he’d like marriage to be more of a partnership than a drama.”
She recalled his earlier words. “Soap opera emotions.” She defended her old friend. “But Amie’s underlying emotions are real. She exaggerates for effect.”
“Rob might decide he can live without the drama.” It was a pessimistic, possibly realistic, assessment. Daniel scrubbed his hands over his face. “It’s partly my fault.”
“Did you encourage Amie and Rob into the engagement?”
“For crying out loud, I thought you’d realised your suspicions were crazy.” He scowled at her.
“Oops.” She grimaced, acknowledging her fault. “Habit. But then, how are you at fault?”
“Amie is the baby of the family. Dad was unreliable, so I encouraged her to look to me for support. Maybe I did too good a job of the encouragement. At twenty four she should be standing on her own two feet. Rob’s right to be disgusted. After stirring up a hornets’ nest with her threat to his guitar, Amie ran to me for protection instead of standing and fighting.”
“Not everyone’s a warrior.”
“No,” he agreed. “You’re not.”
“Of course I am,” Cate contradicted. “I cope.”
“Because you’re self-reliant, not because you enjoy the fight.”
“I fight for what I believe in.”
“But a warrior fights for the joy of the fight. You care too much to fight without counting the cost. If you hurt anyone, you’d cry along with them.”
She parked the Ferrari neatly in its bay, then turned to him.
He was a warrior who counted costs, too; but then he paid them. He protected his mum, sister and all the people in his company. Now he had a chance of freedom. He’d loosened the ties of business, but family ties stayed strong. He wouldn’t indulge himself at the cost of those he loved.
“You’re a fine one to talk,” she said affectionately. She handed him the car keys, adding without thinking. “I’m glad to be…back.” She had almost said, “home”. She walked quickly to the lift to hide her embarrassment and stabbed at the call button.
“I’m glad to be home, too,” he said.
She glanced at him, then jumped as the lift doors pinged open.
He put a hand at her waist to move her forward.
Her skin tingled and burned through the soft layer of angora wool.
“Home is a good place to be.” His hand dropped away as he punched the penthouse button. “We’ll pull up the modern equivalent of a drawbridge—this lift—and steal some peace.”
Could there be peace between them? Her senses were hyperaware of him and her emotions still in turmoil from Amie and Rob’s dramatic clash. Half of her wanted to reach out to Daniel, and the other half wanted to run.
The savoury aroma of chicken casserole greeted them at the door, but it didn’t inspire Cate with hunger. She found herself plucking at a sleeve of her top and stopped, irritated by the habit which revealed her fraying nerves.
Daniel smiled lopsidedly at her. “You look like I feel.”
“How’s that?” She couldn’t have said how she felt. Confused, maybe. Perhaps aware that she stood on the edge of change?
“In need of a hug.”
The hug comforted. She absorbed his warmth and strength, and inhaled the scent of him. Her agitated pulse slowed. She found herself matching her breathing to his. Her arms tightened a moment in gratitude before she pulled away. “We should eat.”
“That would be sensible.”
She glanced at him, unsure of his meaning. “I guess you’re hungry?”
“You could say so.” Amusement coloured his voice, but desire intensified the blue of his irises and widened his pupils.
Her pulse skipped. Her gaze dropped to the relaxed line of his mouth. She knew his taste and the intoxic
ating effect on her senses. If she—
Her courage broke and she fled to the kitchen.
She noticed the fine tremor in her hands as she picked up a pair of pot holders, and took a steadying breath. The casserole was hot and ready. She scooped it onto two plates, then collected cutlery and carried the plates to the dining table. This wasn’t the time for the elegancies of fine dining.
Daniel turned back from the window. “Casserole? It looks good and smells even better.”
“Thanks.”
He waited till she sat, then pulled out his own chair. “I should learn how to cook.”
“Everyone should.” She seized the unexceptional topic of conversation, and mentally thanked him for it. “Cooking is easy and it saves money.”
“That would be handy,” he said politely.
She relaxed into a grin. “I guess that’s not a consideration for you. When I was a student we traded ideas for cheap meals. Do you know how many things you can make with brown rice?”
He checked out his meal. “Uh, casserole?”
“Some habits aren’t easily undone,” she admitted. “Brown rice is nutritious and filling. But you could start with easy meals like spaghetti bolognaise and curries, using a bottled sauce, of course.”
“Of course,” he echoed with mock solemnity.
The light conversation enabled Cate to eat her small serving of casserole, although she couldn’t shake her awareness of Daniel and the tension running between them.
They cleared the table and kitchen together, and she wondered how they could fill in the remainder of the evening.
“We could watch TV,” he suggested.
She laughed.
“It wasn’t that funny.”
“I just thought what a weird evening you’ve had to celebrate your freedom from running the mining company. Someone should make it up to you.”
“Who would do that?” A gleam in his blue eyes indicated he had some ideas. “Would you, Caty?”
She glanced at him and couldn’t look away. She hadn’t meant an invitation, but now he’d suggested it, the chance tempted her. “I could try.”
They stood in the middle of the living area. She put one hand against his chest and the other cradled his face, inclining him within reach. She stretched up and set her lips on his.
He made no effort to help her with their kiss, only parted his lips and waited.
Cate took her time. She traced the outline of his mouth with her tongue, then delved deeper, learning the flavour of him. Her hands ceased to lie lightly against him, and slid to his shirt, unbuttoning it. The skin of his chest was satin over hot, hard muscle.
“Yes.” She breathed her approval.
He trembled.
Her straying hands found and teased flat male nipples.
He groaned and pulled her hard against him. His arousal pressed into her stomach.
She lifted onto tiptoe to better fit him.
“Caty.” He took her with him, falling onto the sofa with her on top, straddling him. His fierce kiss held none of her gentle building of anticipation. It was raw promise. His tongue thrust into her mouth, claiming and demanding more. His hands slid under her sweater, unclasped her bra and moulded her breasts.
It felt wonderful, but in another second, she wanted more. She sat up and stripped off sweater and bra.
Beneath her, Daniel’s hips bucked in involuntary response.
She smiled, shy, daring and loving. Slowly, she stretched out again, brushing her breasts against his chest.
His hand, clumsy with need, ran over her hair. “Are we celebrating, or are you killing me?”
“Both?”
Their shared laughter was absorbed by their kiss. He kissed and touched her with careful devotion to her pleasure.
“Caty-love.”
Cate, lost in the feelings aroused by his lips at her breast and the warmth of his hand at the juncture of her thighs, rubbing restlessly against the barrier of her stretch trousers, opened desire-drugged eyes.
“I don’t have any condoms, unless…?” he ended hopefully.
She breathed again. “Not me. I don’t…I’ve never done this before.” She slid her hands over his shoulders. It felt so good to rub her body against his, to come alive in her openness to him.
“You’ve never…”. He looked at her with a stunned expression. “Cate, are you a virgin?”
“Don’t make it sound a crime.”
His arms tightened around her. “No crime. A surprise.” He lay tensely beneath her. “Why?”
She shrugged. He wanted a discussion, now? She struggled to breathe, to think. “I never had a serious boyfriend while I was at school. Then working with AIDS orphans…Africa taught me the importance of safe sex.”
“And in between you had the trauma of evading a forced marriage.”
“That wasn’t your fault.” She stroked him, protectively. Her tongue flicked out and tasted the skin of his throat. It was salty with perspiration. “Mmm.”
He inhaled sharply. “But there must have been other men. You must have wanted…”
“Wanted maybe. Trusted? No.” The truth escaped her without thought.
He shuddered once, as if absorbing a blow.
“Daniel?” She drew back to look at him, and her hand skimmed his body, brushing against his nipples and lingering caressingly.
“No, Cate, don’t touch me. The bit that needs kissing and making better would explode if you did.”
She blushed.
He smile was tight as he lifted her off him. “I need a cold shower.”
She picked up her bra and sweater absently. She was feverish with desire, and Daniel’s body was obviously ready for her. His arousal bulged against his jeans and his mouth was a taut, passionate line.
“I could buy condoms?” She saw his chest heave.
“No.”
Chapter Five
Bare-chested and all male in the well-worn jeans that contained his arousal, Daniel stood in front of Cate as she curled in the corner of the sofa, looking up at him and wanting.
Her body pulsed and she touched her tongue to her full, kiss-dampened lips. His flavour lingered there and she savoured it.
“Cate,” he protested. “You must see that I can’t…”. He couldn’t find the words, and thrust an agitated hand through his hair. “You’ve never…”.
“Had sex? Yes, I know.” She smiled. Despite frustrated desire, she found him adorable as he lost his cool and controlled manner.
Muscles rippled as he gestured in frustration. “So, why now?”
“Why not?” She shrugged.
He groaned. “Put your top on.”
She glanced down at her bare breasts. Another time she would have felt embarrassed. They were swollen, the nipples pointed and sensitive to the cool air and his stare. She couldn’t be embarrassed, not with him looking agonised and hungry.
“Where is my top?” she asked carelessly, more concerned with the tension between them.
“Here.” He picked it up from the coffee table, dropped it in her lap and stepped back.
“Thank you.” Slowly, she pulled her top on, feeling the soft brush of angora against her sensitised breasts. It didn’t soothe, it excited. She smoothed the top down.
His gaze followed the movement of her hands before coming back up, locking with her eyes. “Why now, Cate? Why make love with me?”
She tipped her head back against the sofa and considered. “You’re gorgeous, but so are other men.” Each breath rubbed the angora against her breasts, and she wanted Daniel to touch her there. It was hard to think. She wanted…“Your wealth doesn’t do anything for me. You make me feel good. I laugh with you. You’re kind. Decent. I trust you.” She paused, brought to consider seriously the reasons for her desire. She wasn’t normally so sexual. Usually, she seldom allowed herself to enjoy even the sensual delights of innocent pleasures, such as smoothly melting chocolate, crackling open fires, or long bubble baths.
“Maybe it’s not
hing to do with you. Maybe coming back to Perth has stirred up my emotions.” It was a scary thought, making her emotionally vulnerable. Cate tried to reject it, resorting to flippancy. “Could be you’re my delayed adolescent fling?”
He didn’t like that. He swore and turned away, pacing to the window.
“I’m sorry. I was joking. I’m not a kid. I’m an adult, all grown up and free to choose with whom I share my body.” She uncurled from the sofa and walked across to him. She touched his back, flattening her palms against the muscle. “Does it matter why, Daniel? My first time has to be with someone.”
The muscles went rigid and his hands fisted. “Are you doing this because you think I owe you?”
“What?” She stepped back, confused by the suggestion and his anger.
“Six years ago I was part of the destruction of your youth and dreams. Maybe you think I owe you recompense—that you lost everything in running away from me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous.”
He spun around and caught her wrist. He jerked her against him and locked an arm around her. “Am I being ridiculous? You came here hating me, distrusting me and your dad.”
“I had every reason.” She struggled against his hold. “Let me go.”
“In a minute.” His free hand traced the delicate curve of her face and slid into her hair. “You’re beautiful. Other men would have loved you, if you’d let them. So, why me?”
“You asked that before.” She tried to shut her mind to the devastating effect of his touch. The scent of arousal was still on his skin, making her dizzy, making her ache. “What do you want me to say?”
His mouth went harsh and tight, and his arms dropped away. “Nothing.”
She stared at him, trying to read the thoughts locked behind the fierce male arrogance of his face. “There must be something, else why ask?”
“I’m going out. Going for a drive.” He scooped up his shirt from the floor and pulled it on.
She heard the rattle of keys, and then, the slam of the front door.
“Hell.” Alone, frustrated and confused, she picked up a sofa cushion and threw it after him. She tingled, she ached and she was mad as hell that he’d left her in this state.
Ran From Him Page 8
