by Cole, Sunny
Riley slammed back against the pillows and wept.
Jack was furious with himself for not being able to stay. How could he, who had never become seriously involved with any woman, have allowed himself to be led by the nose by a slip of a girl like Riley? She was inexperienced, which should have deterred him from the beginning but only served to fuel his desire for her. She was a firecracker when talking yet a gentle soul when in his arms. A complete contradiction of everything he’d supposed she’d be when he proposed marriage.
What did you expect?
He answered his latent conscience immediately. He’d expected Riley to be young enough that he could get her to do his bidding, be his pawn in a chess game with Patrick Fitzgerald. He hadn’t expected her to like the infernal man, and Jack hadn’t expected himself to be as attracted to Riley as he was. How could he possibly have thought of using her like that in the first place?
And now? After he’d come to know her better, admire her feistiness and intelligence, after she’d managed to get under his skin and drag him from ruthless to romantic?
Jack hardly recognised himself. He’d never be able to outwit Patrick if his mind was constantly concerned with Riley. Sure, he’d wanted her to be a Fitzgerald, but now...all he wanted was for her to be safe. Once everyone knew her DNA was being tested and that she was potentially Amelia’s granddaughter, she’d never be truly safe as long as whoever wanted her dead hadn’t changed their mind.
And Jack would never be the same after making love to her. If she was as pliable and eager to please him when all the attention was focused on her, how much greater would his pleasure be if he allowed Riley to make love to him? He’d be unable to maintain any semblance of a marriage of convenience. He’d want her for keeps, children or no children, and he was dangerously close to the edge already.
He walked downstairs and onto the front terrace, pulled out his cigarettes and thought the hell with it when lighting his third for the day. He drew his cell phone from his pants pocket and glanced at the time. Technically, this was his first cigarette of a new day.
A waning moon, falling on the hillside to his left, cast shadows of the odd eucalyptus tree or flowering bush. Bare vines that would bear fruit in a few months, dotted the landscape. Cadigal Valley had been his home for several years, yet he’d never truly felt he belonged until Riley entered the picture. With her, even though they were just getting to know one another, Jack felt the pieces of his life fitting more securely together.
Ridiculous notion, he told himself. Amelia had welcomed him when he’d arrived, and she’d insisted that he become part of her family and stay in the main house rather than commute from Sydney or live in the cabin on the hill he and Riley had passed on their way. Nothing had changed with Riley’s arrival, so why did it seem as if it had?
Jack walked while smoking, from one end of the terrace to the other. He was about to sit at one of the tables when a slight motion a few metres away captured his attention. He wasn’t alone.
Patrick stepped into view, and it was all Jack could do to repress a groan in protest. He needed solace, not Patrick’s company. But it was either stay to finish his cigarette or escape, which wasn’t Jack’s style.
Amelia’s nephew spoke first. ‘You have a lovely wife, Jack. My compliments.’
Jack nodded, wondering where this was going.
Patrick, too, it seemed, was unable to sleep and was having a late night cocktail with his cigarette. Gin and tonic, most likely, his drink of choice.
At first determined not to break the silence and place the proverbial ball into Patrick’s court, Jack relented and asked what had bugged the hell out of him since dinner.
‘How did you know about my wife’s scar on her abdomen?’ He pulled out a chair and sat, his gaze studying the other man’s every move.
Patrick frowned then smiled slowly. ‘So it’s true?’ He shook his head. ‘I was only voicing what had been a thought since I first saw her. She reminded me of a cousin, but I haven’t seen her since we were small. Think she was about three, and I was seven or eight at the time.’
Jack swallowed the bile that rose. Had Patrick hurt Riley in the past? How else would he have known?
Patrick sat across from him. ‘I can’t believe it’s really her. I mean — did you know? Does she? For that matter, what of Amelia?’ Then Patrick sighed. ‘No wonder the poor dear passed out at the sight of Riley. Appears I wasn’t the only one who felt deja vu. It was a bit creepy — I mean, we all assumed the kids were dead.’
‘We haven’t discussed the matter.’ Jack felt foolish with the admission.
Patrick eyed him suspiciously. ‘Where did you meet her?’
‘Sydney.’ That’s all Jack offered. Let the bastard think what he wants.
‘And you had no idea she resembled Amelia’s daughter-in-law?’
‘Of course not.’
Patrick nodded. ‘Your wife’s name is Riley, not Marianne, so it’s doubtful she’s my cousin. You know, this could all be coincidence. And very convenient for you.’
Jack stood, defensive, ready to beat the crap out of him.
Patrick seemed nonplussed, even joked. ‘Sit down, mate. I’m teasing. It would be diabolical if you were to play on Amelia’s softness for her grandchildren like that — nobody would accuse you of anything so ruthless. It’s just...as I said...coincidence.’
No one has ever used that term to describe me. His sarcastic thoughts drifted back to Sydney and his conversation with Riley when she accused him of being ruthless. ‘Could be.’ Jack took a couple of deep breaths, decided to choose his battles wisely, sat, and asked what had happened to the little girl.
‘We were climbing trees, and I tried to dissuade her, but she was such a determined little thing. She went too far, lost her footing, and fell to the ground on her stomach. One of the harvesters had left a pair of pruning shears behind, and when she fell, the serrated edge stuck into her stomach.’ Patrick winced. ‘Nasty cut. She had to be rushed to the local hospital.’
His face darkened. ‘When Kevin’s children went missing, I thought Uncle Joe would lose his mind. He was especially fond of Marianne — we used to call her Mimi. I used to spend summers with them here, and when Kevin and his wife died, then Joe, I moved in to help take care of Aunt Amelia.’
Grudgingly, Jack had to admit it didn’t sound as if Patrick could have had anything to do with hurting his younger cousin. And if he was only seven or eight, it was doubtful he was involved with the children’s disappearance.
Guilt flooded Jack.. Patrick had described him perfectly, whether intent was behind it or not. He was ruthless. Demented as well if he considered manipulating people like that. He’d have to make amends. Quickly.
First, he had to return to his bed and pray Riley was asleep, because if she wasn’t, he would have an extremely long, painful night keeping his hands off of her.
When he got back to the room, however, Riley was sound asleep, curled facing his side of the bed. She had the face of an angel, not some demon sent to torment him.
You pathetic sod. He sat with his back to her. You still want her, and she’s sleeping.
Well, he wouldn’t wake her. He’d force himself to get undressed without looking at her and to sleep on his side so he couldn’t see her.
It took hours for him to fall asleep, and Jack figured he’d have a restless night, but the day’s events took their toll. He drifted into unconsciousness with one thought on his mind. He’d set his alarm to wake up early and find Amelia to tell her he’d changed his mind. It was time to tell Riley she might be an heiress. He’d have to accept her rage once she figured out why he really approached her for marriage. If he was right, at least Amelia would have one of her grandchildren returned to her.
Images of his wife raced across his mind, chasing one another. Riley at The Baker’s Oven in Sydney, sipping coffee with him. Scenes of her shopping, especially when she tried on the cocktail dress she wore to their wedding ceremony. Their first kiss and
the intoxicating scent of her body; he was sure what he had smelled wasn’t perfume. It was pure, unadulterated Riley.
Undressing her — kissing her, tasting her sweet, delicate skin, feeling her writhing beneath his touch. Would he ever get her out of his mind?
Seconds ticked into minutes, then into hours. The last thing he remembered was the soft sound of her breathing behind him.
When he awoke, she was gone.
Chapter Seven
Riley didn’t think it possible the night before, but not long after Jack left her in tears, she cried herself to sleep, hugging her pillows. If she dreamed, she remembered nothing, but once daylight caressed her cheeks through the slivers of sun that peeked past the balcony draperies, she felt re-energised and ready to continue her plans. She would see the vineyards where she would work.
She chose not to wear any of her new clothes, instead choosing jeans, tee-shirt and sneakers. Back at her apartment, she’d packed a kit containing supplies that would later help her test soil. Might do for her to get started on the one job Jack hired her for that she knew she could do well.
James met her in the hall outside her bedroom. He carried a tray with two cups, two tumblers, a carafe of orange juice, and a pot of coffee.
‘I’m sorry, Mrs Beauchamp. I tried getting these to you early. The cook is preparing your breakfast. Would you rather be served in bed?’
In reply, Riley lifted a tumbler, poured herself some juice, downed the juice in one gulp, and shook her head. She couldn’t bring herself to say the words my husband, so she simply said, ‘He’s asleep. Might wait a bit, but thanks.’
She indicated the coffee. ‘Could I have a cup of that to take with me?’
James had stiffened at being told not to disturb Jack. For all Riley knew, this was the morning norm and she was upsetting everybody’s schedule, but the last thing she wanted was for Jack to accompany her on her first visit to her new workplace.
The butler murmured. ‘Of course.’ Then he poured her a steaming cup of what she hoped was caffeinated coffee and handed it to her.
Smiling brightly, confident that she’d escaped a confrontation with Jack, she said thanks and continued on her way outside, stopping in the kitchen to meet Janet, who Jack said was the primary cook. The heavy-set woman seemed surprised anyone would come into her kitchen. She was even more shocked when Riley told her she was just looking for some bread to take with her.
‘You need breakfast. I’ll serve you in the dining room.’
Riley shook her head. ‘I’m not that hungry.’
The large woman placed her hands on her hips. ‘I cook. You eat.’
There seemed no getting out of it, so Riley acquiesced. ‘But only if I might eat in here. I’d like to get to know you better.’
The cook’s mouth dropped open momentarily, but she pointed to a small table at a bay window. ‘This is where the staff eats.’
With this much food for breakfast, they must not have morning tea. Riley was amazed at the stacks of apple pancakes with maple butter syrup, the heaped scoop of scrambled eggs, and sausages.
Janet set the plate before her, handed her flatware, and sat across from her, folded her arms and looked at Riley expectantly.
Planning on only having a few bites, enough to satisfy the cook, Riley launched into questions about the vineyards.
‘You need to talk to Samuel — he’s probably in the greenhouse at this time.’ Janet pointed out the window. ‘See? Over there.’
Before she knew it, Riley had eaten nearly the entire plate of food. She’d taken notes as Janet told her about the last year’s vintage, problems they’d had with mould, and concerns her employers seemed to have about the upcoming planting. Janet didn’t know much, but her offerings were enough to jumpstart Riley’s curiosity and enthusiasm.
Janet took Riley’s ceramic mug and found a stainless steel mug for the refill. Then she sent Riley on her way with a couple of breakfast scones, the coffee and a bottle of water. ‘Tea is at nine thirty, Missy.’
Riley had to stifle a laugh. Okay, obviously she was expected back within a couple of hours, and the look on Janet’s face told her she’d better not be late.
It was a beautiful day. The sun was rising in a cloudless ocean of blue sky, colourful lorikeets screeched at one another in a thicket of palm trees, and a couple of magpies ventured onto the terrace. Riley knew better than to talk to them, much less feed them. If she did, they’d come back and bring their friends, and the mess they’d leave would hardly endear Riley to the Fitzgeralds.
Cadigal Valley was only a few miles from the Pacific Ocean, and even though she saw no clouds, Riley could sense rain coming from the easterly trade winds that were picking up. It wouldn’t be long before storms brewed, heralding the coming of spring. If they were lucky, they’d have a decent planting season before the hard rains came in summer.
She stuffed the scones into her backpack, alongside the kit and water bottle, and with only her coffee mug in hand, she began her descent from the house to the vineyards.
Jack finally found her. She’d missed tea, which didn’t please cook. She’d been missing for hours, and if it hadn’t been for Samuel telling him where she’d gone, Riley might have walked all the way back to Sydney for all Jack knew.
He rounded the cabin, having not seen her out back, and there she was, perched on the stone bench facing the east, sipping something. She was picture perfect, like something out of a magazine, staring into the distance with a dreamy look on her face. He felt guilty for disturbing her, but she’d given him several hours of worry.
‘Don’t you carry your cell phone with you?’ He tried keeping the gruffness from his voice, but even to his own ears he sounded angry.
Riley turned to him, surprise flooding her features. ‘I didn’t think I needed it here.’
‘Well, you do. This isn’t the Outback, but a stranger to the land is still in danger of getting lost until they get the lay of the land.’
She patted a place beside her. ‘Come, sit. I’ve had the most marvellous morning. Don’t spoil it for me.’
What? One would think she wasn’t in danger of becoming lost, that she was not only comfortable but confident in her surroundings.
Jack sat straddling the bench, facing her. ‘I was worried.’
‘You shouldn’t have been. I’ve been taking care of myself for over twenty years.’
‘You haven’t done that here.’ He indicated her drink. ‘Okay if I have a sip?’
She handed him the bottle. Her gaze seemed to follow the path of a trickle of water that escaped his lips and slid from mouth to chin to throat. ‘About last night, Jack...’
Jack shook his head. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘No, let me finish. I’m the one who is sorry. Well, you’re right. You should be sorry. I’m not normally that selfish, but I sort of lost track of time, and before I could do anything, you finished and jumped out of bed like you didn’t want anything more to do with me.’
He craned his neck. What? ‘Riley, that wasn’t it at all.’
She wasn’t having any excuses. ‘I realise I should’ve been more responsive or something, should have reciprocated, but damn, man. Give a girl a chance. Don’t just leave her there with egg on her face.’
‘You said you didn’t want to get pregnant.’
She fired back by imitating his posture on the bench, swung one of her legs over, nearly kicking him in the face, and leaned forward herself. ‘There are such things as prophylactics, aren’t there?’ As if he didn’t understand her, she continued. ‘Condoms?’
While he processed what she’d said, she kept ranting. ‘I thought you didn’t want me, that you’d only serviced me or something to keep me from feeling like I was alone in bed. I swear to God, if you keep making me feel like a filly in a race and treating me like I’m an animal with no feelings — they do have them, you know? Animals. They’re more empathetic than we are.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her face. ‘If you weren’t that int
o it, you shouldn’t have started it. If you didn’t want me, all you had to do was say so!’
Jack knew his next move probably conveyed teasing, which was the worst thing he could do when a woman was tearing him a new arsehole. He laughed — but he couldn’t help it. And the angrier Riley became, the more ridiculous her notion that he wasn’t attracted to her.
Was there no end to the surprises this woman contained?
Jack set her water bottle at his feet, grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her gently. ‘Riley, you are impossible.’ He kissed her full on the mouth. Hard. ‘Not want you? Seriously?’
She pushed against his chest. ‘Let me go. I’m humiliated enough without your attempts to make me feel better.’
‘But you’re wrong!’
She gave a saccharine smile. ‘About you? I don’t think so. You spelled out the terms of our arrangement clearly. I just didn’t pay attention. You want a wife and maybe a child, but you don’t want a marriage unless it’s convenient for you, which this one is.’
‘And you want a vineyard.’
She bristled. ‘Like that’s a comparison?’
He thought she would cry, but instead she shook her head and tried ending the subject. She flattened her palms as if pushing air away from her,or shoving him aside, and continued with her tirade.
‘I’m sorry that for a few moments last night I forgot about our bargain. I let down my guard, and you rejected me. That’s how I see it. But it’s done, and if it’s okay with you — and even if it’s not — I’d like to get back to where we were.
This misguided little witch certainly knew how to jerk the wind from his sails. Never would he have believed that’s how she took his absence last night, and he had only himself to blame.
Jack took a deep breath and thought. He could persuade her. He knew he could. But later she’d discover why he’d married her in the first place. He’d told her it was to secure his position, but he hadn’t told her she might be a Fitzgerald. Once that came to light, Riley would never believe he was attracted to her, not her inheritance and how she might help him. She’d hate him.
