by Sandy Vaile
Her mobile rang and she snatched it up.
“I thought you were going to call today,” Bron accused.
“Oh crap, I’m sorry. It’s been a hell of a day and I just forgot. Look, can we catch up tomorrow?”
“You can run, but you can’t hide, Neve Botticelli.”
Time to bite the bullet. “Actually, I’ve been helping Micah Kincaid with a kindy matter. It’s about his son, Rowan.”
“Your Rowan?”
“Yes, but Micah is his father.”
“So that makes the fashion bitch his wife?”
“Estranged.”
“Complicated,” Bron said.
“I can’t say too much, because Chelsea is involved with some bad people. That’s why Micah has to get him back.” Neve wasn’t sure how much it was safe to tell. After all, it wasn’t her information to share, but after Micah left Turners Gully, she still wanted a best friend who would speak to her.
“And you’re helping him.” Bron sounded dubious.
Neve gulped a fortifying breath. “Umm, he’s staying with me until this is all over.”
“What the hell? Things must be bad if Tony allowed that. Are you in danger?”
“No. Maybe. We’re just being cautious.”
“What have you gotten yourself into? Do you like him?”
After tucking a bookmark between the pages of her latest novel, Neve lowered it to the floor. There wasn’t any way around Bron’s probing. “I don’t want to, but I can’t help it.”
“Who could? The man’s gorgeous. Okay, I’ll let you go, but only if you promise to call soon and tell me all about the mega hunk.”
“I promise I’ll call tomorrow.”
“I know where you live if you don’t. By the way, Mr. Kincaid got a mention in the online news today.” Bron disconnected.
Great, now I’m alienating my best friend. I guess I should be grateful that she’s even speaking to me after how unavailable I've been lately.
Neve read the paragraph in her book again.
“Damn it, this is pointless.” The book slid onto the concrete floor with a slap, and she headed for the bedroom.
The radiant heat and damp eucalyptus smell hit her before he did. Literally.
“Sorry.”
Micah had a hand on each of her shoulders, bracing against their collision, but it wasn’t the impact that shocked her into silence. His athletic body was still warm and clammy from the steamy bathroom, and he wore nothing but a towel slung low around his hips. Any second now steam would erupt from her ears, and she’d whistle like a kettle. Good Lord, the man had shoulders to die for and abs . . .
She let out a shaky breath. He hadn’t let go or moved away. The rhythmic quiver of the pulse just below his jaw caught her attention, and she lost the battle to seek out his eyes. Molten sugar burned through her, all the way to her soul. She felt exposed in front of this man. He’d seen how she lived, copped a beating from Tony, and still had the courage to be here. Wide, strong hands slowly scorched a path down her arms.
She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t run.
“Neve.”
A whisper of warm breath followed her name from his mouth and his fingers entwined with hers. It was happening again. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she felt the magnetic pull. She should stop it. Oh, who was she kidding? She wanted him to kiss her more than anything right now.
Her eyelids closed at the first butterfly touch of his lips. Only two senses were functioning, and they were on high alert. Everything she could smell and feel was Micah. Warm lips, sweet honey in his damp hair, soft flesh, a tapered waist firm beneath her hands. Then she crept her fingers around to the hollow of his back and kneaded the hard muscles that wound up either side of his spine, splayed her hands across his broad shoulders, and anchored herself to him.
It had been so long since she’d touched a naked man; his warm flesh was sleek, divine. His tongue plunged deep into her mouth, and she welcomed it, clung tighter still. She loved the feeling of hot kisses and roaming hands. The explosion of emotions it unleashed left her giddy.
Neve let out a longing moan, and Micah tightened his arms as she sagged on rubbery knees. Her head lolled onto his shoulder, and his lips skipped along her jaw and down the side of her neck. A shiver of desire sprinted across her skin, and there was a heaviness she hadn’t felt in a very long time between her thighs.
She wanted him.
“Neve.” He breathed roughly against her neck, his hands gripping her buttocks.
His shaft pressed into her stomach should have brought her to her senses, but it only weakened her resolve. It didn’t matter if he was all wrong for her. She was a grown woman, and she needed to feel him right now, skin on skin.
She moved a hand between their hips and tugged at the towel. Micah grabbed her wrist. Their eyes locked.
“I want you,” she whispered.
His nostrils flared. “Oh hell yes, I want you, too, but . . .”
“Why is there a but?”
“Neve, this isn’t right. Tony’s in the other room and . . .and tomorrow you’ll regret it. There’s so much you don’t like about me, remember?”
Slowly she shook her head. “Can’t remember.” Her palm was flat against his chest, with his racing heart pumping beneath it. Why did this have to be complicated?
There was a metallic clatter in the kitchen, and Micah recoiled. Tony was making his last cup of tea for the night. Of course they couldn’t do this.
Her hands dropped, head bowed. “You’re right.”
“I wish I wasn’t.”
As unreasonable as it was, the sharp sting of denial pricked behind her eyes, so she shut them tight. She heard the scratch of the towel as he resecured it. Then he brushed her cheek lightly with his fingers.
“You are such an amazing woman—strong, sexy, intelligent—but we can’t do this, here, tonight.”
Now we’re talking. He wasn’t saying he wouldn’t do this somewhere else, another time. It sounded reasonable. Her body wanted to believe, but . . .tomorrow he would still be a multi-billionaire and she’d still be a kindy teacher living with Tony.
Oh hell. And there’s the little problem of his wife. She sucked in a deep breath. “I’m going to bed. There’s a camp bed on the floor for you.”
She yanked the curtain back to reveal her narrow bedroom with the small wardrobe, double bed, and a bedroll right next to it.
“Shit.” Micah exhaled the word behind her, his gaze fixed on the side-by-side beds.
Yep, it was going to be a long five days.
“You can sleep in the library if you’d prefer. I just thought . . .in case Tony sleepwalks.”
“Oh, sure. It’s fine.”
“Give me a minute to put pyjamas on. You ought to check the online news. Bron said you got a mention.”
Neve disappeared behind her bedroom curtain and changed in record time. She unravelled her hair, raked her fingers through it as it rebounded into spirals, and then leapt into bed. Holy cow, how was she supposed to sleep a wink with Mr. Hot and Steamy lying right next to her? An ice bath would be in order if he kissed her like that again, and yet it was he who stopped the kiss.
The only one of them with enough sense to realise they couldn’t carry it further. Not with Tony in the house or Chelsea in his life still. No matter how many times she reminded herself he wasn’t right for her, merely being in the same room sent a thrill from her crown to her toes.
Chapter 23
Micah booted up his laptop and opened the local news website.
Please don’t let it be about Rowan and Chelsea.
It was only a small article in the entertainment section: “Playboy Billionaire in Brawl?” And there was the blasted photo the teenage girls had taken at the shopping centre. Just as he’d predicted, it had gone onto Facebook, and now the media speculated about why he was in Adelaide, who was the mystery woman he’d been seen with, and how he got a cut lip. Drunken brawl over the new girlfriend seemed to be the f
avourite scenario.
He didn’t care what they said about him, so long as it didn’t affect his negotiations with Boiler or his chances of getting Rowan back safely.
“Okay,” Neve called.
He shut down the laptop and flicked the bedroom curtain aside. Neve looked fabulous with a halo of frizzy hair around her face, lying back on the pillow. Way too inviting. He stood there fidgeting for a moment.
“Um, perhaps I should’ve bought some pyjamas at the shops. Do you mind turning the lamp off?”
Their eyes met. A whole conversation exchanged in silence, and then she reached across to the bedside lamp, and flicked the switch.
It was pitch black as he crawled under the swag canvas. It was surprisingly warm and comfortable, with a solid mattress to cushion the cement floor and a hooded sleeping bag.
He wasn’t sure how much time passed. It didn’t matter how comfortable the swag was or how exhausted he was, there was nothing relaxing about being in Neve’s bedroom with her shallow breathing only a metre away. He desperately wanted to reach up and touch her. Run his fingers along her arm. Kiss her plump lips again. It didn’t matter how much he’d meant his wedding vows to Chelsea or how long he’d tried to make their relationship work, enough time had passed to be sure it was over.
It was Neve whose very presence sent a thrill through him, and it scared the shit out of him. If he slipped into her bed, he suspected she’d welcome him, but it would just complicate their mission. Finding Rowan was his first priority, and pissing Tony off by sleeping with his daughter wouldn’t help.
In an effort to release the tension from his taut body, Micah clenched and released one muscle at a time from his toes to his scalp. Finally, he sighed and let his weight sink into the mattress.
“Are you still awake?”
A faint whisper in the dark was all it took to instantly knot his muscles again. Neve was awake and practically lying next to him.
“I can’t sleep,” he told her.
The energy practically crackled around the room.
“Neve, I don’t want to come between you and your father. If it causes too much trouble, tell me and I’ll go back to the bed-and-breakfast.”
“Don’t worry, I’ve got Tony under control. I’ve been looking after him for twenty years. You can’t break that kind of bond.”
“That’s good to hear. Family is more important than anything.”
“Really?”
That single word conveyed all of her mistrust and false beliefs. The last thing he wanted was her pity for his dysfunctional family; besides, her prejudice was too deep-seated for her to see him clearly, so he changed the subject.
“Hey, I have to ask you about the flower-power choices in the bathroom,” he said. “They aren’t labelled.”
She giggled. “I told you it was like camping. I make my own products.”
“A woman of many talents. I think I used the wrong one on my hair.”
“The eucalyptus soap is for your body. That’s the white stuff.”
“Got that right.”
“And the runny yellow mixture is for your hair.”
“But it smelt like honey and didn’t lather.”
“It doesn’t need to lather, silly. It’s like a shampoo and conditioner in one.”
There was silence for a few minutes; she must have fallen asleep. Then something touched his cheek. Gentle fingers stroked his forehead, explored the contours of his face, and made him shiver as they glided across his lips and down his throat.
“Neve, tell me again why you’re doing this.”
Thankfully, she seemed to know he wasn’t talking about touching him.
“You probably think it’s silly, seeing as I’m just Rowan’s teacher, but I adore him. I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to him.” Her voice flowed over him like warm honey.
“And you care for him because he reminds you of your little brother?”
“At first I could scarcely bear to be around him because of the likeness, even though Carlos was older when he died. Rowan’s personality is quite different though, and I came to appreciate him for the person he is.”
“Tell me about him, please. You’ve spent more time with him than me this year.”
Her slender fingers continued to caress his neck and shoulders, soothing and exciting him.
“He’s quiet, but he sees everything. Once I got to know him better, he trusted me enough to show his inquisitive side, but—”
“But what?”
“He’s emotionally fragile. I don’t think Chelsea’s very affectionate, so I guess I try to make up for that.”
He reached up and squeezed her hand. “You’re a good person. Rowan’s lucky to have you in his life. It isn’t Chelsea’s fault though. She had an abusive childhood. I knew that before I married her, but I didn’t dream it would affect her ability to love her own child.”
“You don’t think she loves Rowan?”
“No, that’s not right. She does love him, but has trouble showing it.” He held his breath, hoping she wouldn’t ask for more details.
He turned his head to kiss her palm, and she withdrew her hand.
“We’d better stay focused on what we have to do tomorrow,” she said. “Good night, Micah.”
Chapter 24
Someone was screaming. Micah sat up in bed, reached for the bedside lamp and felt rough clay walls. Where was he? The panicked shouts were from a man. Then a socked foot stepped on him.
“Sorry. Stay here.”
It was Neve’s voice. The bedroom curtain was ripped back, and he saw her shadow run from the room.
Don’t tell me the Mutts found me here. “Neve!”
But she was gone. He fought his way out of the swag. Using the glow from the fire, he found the light switch. The shouting had turned to angry mumbling, and he followed the sound through the lounge room, stubbing his toe on the couch and hopping to the kitchen doorway.
There was even less light in here, but the voices were clear. It wasn’t the Mutts.
“Dad, it’s me. You’re safe.”
A thin silhouette held a knife. “Get out of my house!” Tony yelled vehemently.
Micah’s fingers skimmed the rough wall, searching for a switch. He couldn’t see enough to help Neve and didn’t want to be on the wrong end of that blade. His heart thumped against his ribs as he tried to breathe through the panic.
There was some kind of scuffle.
At last his finger hooked onto something and the room flooded with light.
Tony’s expression was ferocious as he blinked in the glare. The same serrated blade he’d brandished at Micah not so long ago was pointed at Neve, who was tensed for battle.
Adrenaline sprinted through Micah’s veins as he searched the small room for something he could use as a weapon. He’d seen how fast the old man could move, so he didn’t want to get within striking.
Tony’s glare roved over Micah and then alighted on Neve, and his brow crinkled. “Neve?”
“Yes. You’re at home and safe. Calm down, Dad.”
Tony’s eyes widened, his hand opened, and the knife clattered to the cement floor. “I didn’t mean to.” He dropped to his knees, head slumped into his waiting hands.
“It’s all right, Dad.” Neve knelt in front of her father and pulled him into an embrace.
Unwilling to move too far away, Micah snatched up the knife and put it on the kitchen bench. He leant against the rough wall in his underwear as Neve held her father and stroked his hair. Cold seeped from the cement floor into Micah’s bare feet, and he shivered. It was impossible to know if the worst had passed or if the old man would erupt again.
Neve whispered soothing babble into Tony’s ear as she rocked him like a child. It was unfathomable how she could be so calm when her own father had threatened her just minutes ago.
After a while, Neve helped Tony to his feet. She looked sheepishly at Micah. “I’m going to sit with him until he goes back to sleep. I promise I’ll be al
l right.”
She was either brave or just plain reckless. Freezing though he was, Micah followed her to Tony’s bedroom. Neve supported her father as he shuffled back to bed. He dropped onto the mattress, and she lifted his feet, then tucked him in.
Tony whimpered. “I don’t want to go to sleep again.”
“I know, Dad, but I’ll be right here. I promise you’re safe. Go back to bed,” Neve whispered over her shoulder at Micah.
No way. He stood watch until Tony’s eyelids drooped as Neve continued to stroke his hair. The devotion in her eyes was that of a doting parent. Tony might seem like a badass at first glance, but it was Neve who had been taking care of him all these years.
• • •
After Tony had fallen asleep, Neve was surprised to see Micah still standing watch. In his underwear, no less.
“You’re shivering,” she said.
“I’m fine. How’s Tony?”
“Sleeping.”
He turned and went back to his bedroll on the floor. She climbed into her own bed and turned out the light. There must be so many awful things going through his mind right now: fear of being murdered in his sleep, confusion about the best thing to do for Chelsea and Rowan. What person in his or her right mind would stay in a house with someone like Tony?
Tomorrow he was bound to insist on returning to the Travaglias’ cabin. Maybe it was the safest option. Maybe she’d overestimated Tony’s resilience. If he bumped into Micah in the dark . . .She shivered at the thought.
This situation might be more than any of them could bear.
As the silence stretched, images of Jack and Tony creeping about the bush with the Mutts swirled through her fatigued mind. It made her feel sick to think of the people she loved coming into contact with the gang.
If anything happens to Tony... Not after losing Mum and Carlos.
She clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut, but it didn’t stop the tears that trickled down her temples and dampened the pillow.
Her vision blurred and nose clogged. She couldn’t help a sniffle.
Micah’s fingers felt for her in the dark. “Are you all right?”
There weren’t words, so she just shook her head. Of course, he couldn’t see it, but he stroked the hair off her face and rubbed circles on her shoulder. Instead of comforting her, his touch was like a release valve, and the tears streamed faster.
