‘I’d have welcomed you at the funeral,’ he said now, bringing her back to the present.
‘No point. You wouldn’t have known who I was.’ She started the engine. ‘So are you taking my red baby for a ride, or are you piking it in that thing?’ She wrinkled her nose at the sedate, dark-blue ‘family’ model sedan. ‘Poor henpecked Claudius. My motor-mad mate, whose greatest ambition was to own a Lamborghini, reduced to that.’
Henpecked? Adam’s nostrils flared; he flung open the back door of his sensible family car, pulled out Zoe’s child seat, and secured it in the BMW.
‘Get in the passenger seat.’
She obliged with an impudent smile. ‘Go for it, Claudius. Burn some rubber.’
A swirl of red dust rose as he flew out of the parking lot. Adrenalin hit him, even at sixty, before he swung the car onto the highway outside town. Then he hit fifth gear and floored the accelerator; he hit sixth, and their heads fell back with the Beemer’s surge of smooth, purring power. One-ten; one-twenty; still climbing on a hot, empty road. No guilt or fear. There was no danger to anyone, and none of the guys were on highway patrol.
He laughed with the exhilaration of realising his childhood fantasy. A perfect summer day in a topless red dream machine, warm wind in his hair, riding the highway at a speed no cop should touch unless in pursuit. He glanced at Elly, sharing the moment with someone who understood, and shared his love of fast cars.
Bad mistake.
Her chestnut curls whipped in the wind; reckless laughter illuminated her face. Her dress was the ultimate in feminine temptation, moulded to her curves like a glove by the wind. Dear God, his scrawny little tomboy was all grown up, and everything he’d never known he wanted.
Responsibility. Maturity. Duty. The Jepson mantra was empty, without power, relegated to the back of his mind when he was with her. Come on, how could a little excitement hurt?
‘Claudius, are you fighting the Mack truck for passage? If you are, let me out! I’ll cede you the car, but I’m not ready to die yet.’
Dragging his gaze from her, he jerked the car back to their side of the road.
The truck roared past, mighty horn blasting in their ears, leaving the car shuddering in its wake. He felt his body move in time with it. Fool! Two minutes in a dream machine with a woman he hadn’t even known dreams were made of until today, and Zoe was almost an orphan.
He performed a U-turn and headed back to town at a sedate pace, self-reproach a lance in his gut. Zoe couldn’t afford him taking these risks.
Even so, he could still hear the word henpecked chasing itself around in his brain, making him crazy with the need to prove her wrong, to show her he still didn’t turn down a dare. Damn Elly for still being able to push his buttons.
He didn’t look at her again. Every time he did, he thought and felt things he couldn’t afford to, broke rules and managed to make a jerk of himself somehow.
Not somehow. You know exactly how.
Even now he burned with the need to do be wild and crazy in more ways than just driving a car—even a car of his dreams. Damn it. Just like all those years ago, she’d corrupted him with a few words, a dare here and there. She was everything he couldn’t afford to want—and she’d laugh herself stupid if she knew. As if she’d want a crusty sobersides cop like him—with a child to boot: the daughter of a woman who’d hated her.
‘Well, that was fun.’ Elly’s laughter brought him back from the darkness. ‘You rose to the challenge beyond all my pathetic expectations, Claudius. I suppose your wacky sense of humour drove you to impress me with a near-death experience?’
He grinned. ‘Henpecked?’
She lifted her hands, palms forward in mock-surrender. ‘I take it back. You’re insane!’
Dead right, and it felt so damn fantastic. He hadn’t realised how long it had been since he’d just had irresponsible fun.
‘Claudius, shouldn’t you slow down a little? You’re doing sixty-five in a forty zone.’
He wasn’t ready for the dream to end yet. ‘Who’s henpecked now?’
She grinned. ‘No, my friend, merely aware that we’re back in town, and in a school zone, which must be, I believe, your daughter’s. I haven’t seen any other preschool along here.’
Don’t blame yourself. It’s not your fault, Adam.
Not waving—drowning. Despite Sharon’s dying absolution, he knew whose fault it was that his little girl had no mother, no brother.
Damn it, stop thinking her name!
He hit the brakes, the shot to his heart almost physical. He swung with a screech into the driveway of the preschool, and leaped out of the BMW as if it burned him.
Elly came around the car, laying a hand on his arm. ‘Get off the guilt-trip merry-go-round, Claudius. You were having fun. You’d have remembered in a moment or two.’
‘Thanks for the comfort, but you don’t have kids,’ he snapped, pulling his arm away.
‘You’re right, I don’t.’ Her voice was filled with odd longing and strange hate, and he felt lousy. But before he could make sense of her mood, it turned again. ‘Let me see if I can pick out Zoe.’ She peered through the window. Three little girls and two boys sang songs. She pointed to a dainty, angelic child with flyaway silverblonde hair. ‘That’s got to be Zoe. She’s the image of Sharon.’
His hands made quick fists, but he unclenched them as he regained control. She doesn’t mean to keep saying it, he reminded himself.
‘Stay here. I’ll get her.’ He stalked into the preschool.
The angst diminished at the touch of a tiny hand in his.
‘Hel-lo, Dad-dee!’ Zoe always sing-songed her words, with a cute lift on the last syllable. He grinned down at her. An adorable sprite, she had Sharon’s blonde hair and angel’s face, his green eyes and a mercurial, laughing impishness she must have inherited from somewhere else. She stamped her foot in well-known demand. With a grin, he swung her up on his hip. She gave him a series of hearty, smacking kisses while he signed her out.
Zoe wriggled to the ground at the childproof gate. Adam opened it and, taking his hand again, she skipped outside. ‘Ooh, Daddy,’ she breathed, staring in bright-eyed fascination at the glowing BMW, the only car in the yard, since most parents picked up their kids long before five-thirty. ‘Are we going for a ride in that?’
‘You sure are, Zoe.’ Elly opened the door for her, smiling.
Zoe’s smile died. She shrank behind her father. ‘Who’s she?’
He smothered a grin. Elly was about to meet her nemesis. ‘That’s Elly, the owner of the car. So if you want a ride, you’d better be nice to her.’
Zoe clutched his leg, sticking her tongue out at Elly. ‘I don’t like her, an’ I don’t wanna ride in her stupid car.’
He lifted his daughter’s chin, making her face him. ‘Zoe, remember your manners.’
Tears filled the green eyes so like his own: angry, insecure, filled with defiance. ‘No! She’s ugly! I don’t like her, an’ I don’t wanna ride in her stupid car!’
His face darkened. ‘For that rudeness, you get time out in your room when we get home.’
A gentle voice halted the lecture. ‘Would you mind if I talked to her, Claudius?’
When he nodded, Elly dropped to her haunches before Zoe. She didn’t smile or try to touch her as she said, ‘Hello, Zoe. I’m Elly. I grew up with your daddy—we were like brother and sister. I came to see Daddy, but I also want to be your friend. If I spend time with Daddy, we take you with us. I won’t take Daddy away from you, Zoe, not now, not ever. And that’s a promise.’ She held out her pinky finger, curled over.
From behind his leg, Zoe looked into Elly’s eyes. So did Adam. They were serious, full of the respect young children crave, but are rarely accorded. Just as thoughtful and serious as Elly, Zoe said, ‘Maybe.’ And wrapped her pinky around Elly’s.
Their linked fingers pumped, once, twice. ‘Thank you, Zoe. We’ll head for your car, and you can think about it on the way. Would it be all righ
t with you if I come for dinner just for tonight? We could order pizza.’
Zoe’s eyes lit up. ‘I love pizza.’
‘A woman of taste, I see.’ Elly stepped back. ‘Daddy can put you in your seat. I’ll sit next to you, so we can have some girl talk. He can be nice and quiet, like a good boy.’
Zoe giggled as Adam strapped her in. ‘Be nice and quiet, Daddy. We girls wanna talk.’
Stunned by Zoe’s capitulation—or was it a preschooler’s test, to see if Elly meant it?—he obeyed his daughter’s order without a word.
The girls laughed and sang songs all the way back to the station. Elly taught her a medical nursery rhyme that would help Zoe know what to do if she ever saw others in trouble. They sang it four times, and after the third time, Elly called her Doctor Zoe.
When they reached his car, Zoe decided to go home with Aunt Elly—Annelly, as she’d already begun calling her. She wanted to sing the song again, so she’d be ready to share it with the kids at school tomorrow.
They walked into the three-bedroom bungalow he now called home, Adam carrying the car seat while Zoe put her hand in Elly’s. He called the only pizza place in town—one that offered kebabs, too, along with barbecue chickens—and paid extra for them to deliver. The girls demanded a Hawaiian pizza and a supreme for the grown-up, glaring at him in mock-disapproval. When Zoe mentioned her love of the movie Up, Elly said she had it on her USB. They could attach it to the TV, and watch it after dinner. They sent Adam to the shop for popcorn and lemonade.
Refusing Elly’s dangled keys, he stalked out the door, heading out in silence. He needed time to clear the chaos in his head. In one day, the life he’d treasured since moving here—quiet, predictable, with the security Zoe needed—was going down the gurgler. It was bad enough that she still held the power to turn his life upside down, and damn the consequences—but Zoe had lost enough. Though she couldn’t remember her mother or brother, she still had regular nightmares about the accident. The car’s all banged up. I can’t breathe! Daddy, help me! Daddy, where are you?
No, Zoe needed safety, security, continuity and peace. And a father who was hers alone, not riding on Elly’s roller coaster. He couldn’t let that turbulent magic enmesh itself in Zoe’s needing heart. Zoe couldn’t afford any more loss. Elly had to go. Tonight.
And if she dies?
The warning on the COPS database blipped back into his memory, and the need to protect Zoe mixed with turbulent shame in his gut. If what had happened to her could make him sick, a seasoned cop with ten years’ inner-city experience, what had it done to Elly, on top of all she’d already lost in her life? So much pain, and some of it could be laid at his door. Even the bull that had taken her mother’s life had belonged to his family.
Who he put first wasn’t up for debate, but he couldn’t let his loyalty to Zoe cost Elly her life.
He worried himself sick all the way to the store and back home that she—and Zoe—would be all right.
Back inside the house, he found them alive and safe, playing Ring Around the Rosie.
He watched in silence from the doorway. Holding Zoe’s hands, crouched over as she danced, Elly was having just as good a time as Zoe, singing without tune or embarrassment.
If Sharon were here, she’d be singing and dancing with Zoe—and so would Zack.
His throat thickened. All the simple joys Zoe had missed out on, all the life and love and growing Sharon and baby Zack had lost—
‘A-tishoo! A-tishoo! We all fall down!’
Woman and child fell to the floor together, Elly’s full, flared skirt floating as she fell, exposing long, brown legs in the careless tangle.
His body reacted yet again, his gaze riveted to her. There wasn’t a part of her that didn’t tease, entice, bind him in her spell. Elly the wild tomboy had called to him irresistibly, heart to heart; the woman did all that, and drove him insane with desire at the same time.
‘More, Annelly! More!’
Elly untangled her legs, smoothed down her skirt, rose to her feet and stretched out her hands to Zoe, and they began again. And he kept watching her.
‘Hey, Claudius, snap out of it!’
He started, realising she’d seen his gaze fixed on her breasts. He closed his eyes. Oh, man, what a jerk.
Zoe created a welcome diversion. ‘Annelly, why do you call Daddy that funny name? His name’s Adam.’
‘It’s a play name.’ She sat beside Zoe. ‘When we were kids, Daddy named me Elly-May after a girl on television, because I was wild, and loved animals better than people. So I gave him a name. Claudius was a king who couldn’t talk properly.’
That dropped her a few points in Zoe’s estimation. He watched in amusement as his daughter frowned at Elly, her lower lip sticking out. ‘My daddy can talk!’
‘Now he can.’ She winked at Adam. ‘But when he was growing up, he’d stutter—’
Zoe tilted her head. ‘What’s “stutter”?’
‘W-well, s-stuttering is when you take a b-bit longer to s-say a w-word. Your d-daddy did that w-when a pretty girl came near him, because he was scared. I nicknamed him Claudius to tease him.’
Zoe giggled. ‘Did pretty girls scare you, Daddy?’
‘Yep, they sure did.’ He grinned with the memory.
Zoe’s head tilted in consideration. ‘Annelly’s real pretty, and you don’t talk funny.’
So Elly had gone from ugly to real pretty in an hour, and the right-wrongness of that left turbulent confusion churning in his gut. ‘I’ve grown up since then,’ he said abruptly. ‘I’ve seen so many pretty girls, it doesn’t bother me now.’
The doorbell rang. Zoe yelled, ‘Pizza! C’mon, Annelly, let’s go get our bestest one!’
‘I want to see if you can bring them in all by yourself.’
Zoe puffed up in pride. ‘I can. I’m a big girl. I’m nearly five. Watch me, Annelly!’
‘I’m watching, sweetie.’ Elly smiled as Zoe dashed down the hall. ‘She’s her daddy’s girl, isn’t she?’
‘Yeah.’ Right now, he wished she weren’t. The untamed magic that radiated from Elly was already at work on Zoe. When Elly went, he’d be left with a broken-hearted child wanting a mummy. He couldn’t take such a monumental risk with his child’s heart.
Her laughter faded as she saw the look on his face. Her eyes dulled. ‘Well, Claudius? Spit it out. I can see you’re dying to lecture me on something.’
She stood before him, chin high, but all he saw was a candle with its flame blown out by the wind; the foster kid waiting for the next round of Jepson disapproval. The girl who’d taken the fall for him dozens of times—but never from him, and that thought made him swallow the words burning his tongue. ‘Elly, I talked to Aunty Hat,’ he said instead. ‘Then I looked up Moongallee Creek on the database.’
She turned on him, her eyes glittering like onyx. ‘I thought I could trust you. Out of all the men in the world, I thought you would respect my wishes, and not violate my privacy, but you’re just like all the rest,’ she rasped, and turned away.
‘Daddy, the man wants his money.’ Zoe carried the pizza boxes down the hall, her tongue poking out with concentration. ‘Can you see me carryin’ the boxes, Annelly? Can you see me?’
‘I sure can, sweetie. You’re doing a great job!’ She wheeled back, her eyes skimming past him to the door down the hall. ‘My treat tonight. Don’t start without me!’
When she returned to the living room, she wouldn’t look at him. ‘C’mon, Claudius, I’m starving—’
His hands fell on her shoulders, stopping her flight to the kitchen. ‘I wish I could be sorry I intruded on your privacy, but I have a child to protect, and this is a bloody serious matter. I am sorry I hurt you, Elly. Let me in. Talk to me!’
Her face remained averted. ‘Just tonight. Give me tonight.’
‘Stubborn woman,’ he growled, relieved at the second chance her words implied. He hated himself for the seesaw of emotions he was letting her put him through, moving from wishin
g she were gone to being glad as hell she was still here. ‘I have four days off, starting Saturday. How does a picnic by the Murray River sound? If it rains before then, we might even catch a glimpse of a paddleboat.’
She rewarded his sacrifice with a radiant smile, filling him with another surge of hotted-up hormones, and a fleeting sense of fun and laughter he hadn’t known in years.
‘A picnic sounds wonderful. You know, I still treasure the memory of our unorthodox effort in the wilds of Bundanoon after you got your licence, Claudius.’
He laughed, reliving the day in the rolling green hills of the Southern Highlands, eighty miles from his grandparents’ farm. The day he’d got his driver’s licence, he’d wanted to share his success, do something a little wild and crazy to celebrate it—and he knew only one person who’d understand that feeling. He laughed again at the frolicking innocence of that day, and spat on his hand, just like when they were kids and made a pact to do something crazy. ‘Done.’
Her brow lifted. ‘I’m still no coward about what’s in your mouth, Claudius.’ She spat on her hand, and they shook with the solemnity of a vow.
Their eyes met above the clasped hands. Hers were filled with deep, shining wonder. A blush filled her cheek like a rosebud unfurling—and she couldn’t tear her gaze from his. Her lips parted. The hand in his trembled.
A superb aura of masculine power—the knowledge of being the man wanted by the woman he desires—pervaded him. All he’d done was touch her hand.
Oh, God, help me. An ineffectual prayer. It was bad enough before, wanting Elly like hell, believing it couldn’t happen. Now with the attraction mutual, and violent—for her coffee-coloured eyes held all the hunger for him he knew his must hold for her—he knew his self-control would never last.
Beneath the Skin Page 7
