Home Truths (14 page)

* * *

Voices drifted down the hall and Nikolay quickly hid behind the study door. He brought his breathing under control, but there was nothing he could do about his thumping heart. They were almost level with him now. He didn't want to scare either one of them, but might not have a choice.

‘I need to use the bathroom,' a woman said. ‘Drank too much tea at the wake.'

Nikolay nodded.
Go pee — go pee!

Through a crack in the door he watched and waited. They both entered the beautiful pink room opposite him. A few minutes later the man came out and said, ‘I'll wait in the kitchen.' And he disappeared.

Nikolay's heavy shoulders sagged as he let go a breath.

Gathering enough nerve to creep out caused his gut muscles to bunch up. He could hear the woman: it sounded to him as if she was using her mobile phone and leaving an angry message. Well, it was now or never. He slipped through the doorway and tiptoed down the hall. Despite his bulk, he moved quietly, and with surprising grace. It worked — until he hit the stairs. He cursed as each tread creaked under his weight. He had no choice but to hurry now; any loud noise he made would alert them to his presence. He scooted into the shop's kitchenette and did a quick scan for the best place to hide. There was a door at the opposite end.
It could be pantry,
he thought hopefully, and hurried through it.

* * *

Jennifer ran down the hall just as Calum came back up the stairs with the bottles of wine.

‘I heard something, was that you?' She flung herself at him; automatically his strong arms went around her and she felt safe.

‘Not sure which noise you mean.' He chuckled. ‘I heard something as well and went down, but I can't find anything.'

‘Come on.' Calum pressed his hand to the small of Jennifer's back and ushered her into the living room. He placed the bottles of wine on the dining table, went to her uncle's crystal cabinet and pulled two glasses out. ‘We could use a drink after all the excitement. Red or white?'

‘White, thanks.'

He went to the couch and waited for her to sit, then poured them both a glass of wine.

‘Here's to Bret, the little shit,' Jennifer said, raising her glass.

‘To Bret…because of him, I'm spending the night with Jennifer Dove,' he said, sensuous dark hazel eyes penetrating hers.

She didn't know what to say to that, so left it well alone. She never felt nervous around people. Heck, being a chef in one of London's best restaurants meant you had to deal with all kinds, especially hot-blooded, high-strung head chefs. Yet Calum made her fidget and her belly melted every time he looked at her. Besides, she could not mistake the messages he was sending. No one could.

She took a long sip of wine, a very good wine. She swirled her glass, stuck her nose in, and sniffed. ‘Nice.' He didn't say much, just smiled as she babbled on about her uncle's unique funeral. When Jennifer was on to her third glass, she was telling Calum about Sofie, and why she didn't want to burden her sister and niece with Bret's latest scheme that must have gone horribly wrong.

‘You see, Mother and Father never forgave Sofie for becoming an art teacher and marrying what's-his-name, Jett the surfer. Jett, the two-timing surfer-bum-father who broke his daughter's heart.'

Sure she was tipsy, it never took more than two or three glasses of wine. Nevertheless, she could tell he was holding back. ‘What're you thinking…hmm?'

‘Surfer-Jett.' Calum said, fighting a smile

Jennifer forgot her problems and roared laughing.

‘It's not that funny.' Calum chuckled.

She came down from her merriment and sighed. ‘It was for a moment. He's an arse. I asked Sofie what happened to my cute, dimple-faced niece? You wouldn't know, but the change in Claudia is…dramatic. I was warned, but something went missing during our transcontinental chats. You know, static and delays. Sofie said, how would you feel if our father screwed a barely-twenties-something girl? Then again, maybe our mother…' She stopped and shrugged.

Calum made no comment and just continued to sip his wine. Jennifer vaguely wondered if that was still his first glass. The thought popped out of her head as smartly as it had popped in.

‘Surfer-Jett,' she snort-giggled. ‘Claudia's father had asked her to babysit his, and barely-twenty-something's, twins. My sweet niece told him to go fuck himself.' Oh God, she just dropped the F-bomb.

Her mobile tinkled. Adrenalin surged through Jennifer and she jumped, peered down into her bag and fumbled for her vibrating phone. She pulled it out and looked at the screen, it was Bret's number again.

In a flash, Jennifer was sober.

She took a deep breath, rose from the couch, turning her back on Calum; she determined to answer as calmly as she could. ‘Hello.'

‘Pay attention ‘cos this is what we want youse to do. Youse better get the money or youse'll be…' The caller covered the mouthpiece. Jennifer pressed the phone to her ear, closed her eyes and stuck a finger in the other ear; frowning, she concentrated hard on the background noise. Something was going on, something the caller was
not
happy about.

She could feel Calum's body heat close to her back — protective.

The thug came back. ‘Um…we want the money now, or…'

‘I can't get that sort of money from —'

‘Don't tell me what youse can't do, bitch — ten grand — do it! King's Cross station tomorra, be there, five-thirty.'

‘But —' The line was dead. Jennifer shook with rage, staring at the phone, hardly able to believe this was happening. It felt like she was watching her brother in a bad movie, only she was in it too. Muttering, she paced the room, keyed in received calls and called them back. Tension filled the room and it wasn't just her own. In her peripheral vision she noticed Calum keeping a close eye on her every move. She had to put his reaction aside as, phone to her ear, she waited. But there was nothing, no voice mail. Nothing. Fist clenching around her phone she glared at it and growled.

Calum took her phone, threw it on the couch, and wrapped his arms around her. ‘What did they say?'

She tilted her head back to see his face. ‘ ”Youse better get the money.” His command of the English language is astounding. And he called me a bitch.' Jennifer frowned, thinking about what had just occurred. She tried not to, but body coiled tight she began to shake. ‘Oh bloody hell.'

‘Christ, Jen.' Calum said, and holding her tight he asked, ‘What else?'

‘Something was happening in the background while I was on the phone; I don't know what, but it put Scarface off his script and he had to think on the run. A tub of yogurt has a better thought process.'

‘A tub of yogurt hey?' Calum chuckled, which didn't last long. He became deadly serious and said, ‘I think you should talk to Brock, he's ex SAS. He'll know what to do.'

‘No — and you mustn't either.' She fisted her hands in his shirt and tugged him in close to her face. ‘Promise me you won't?'

‘Okay, I won't.' His hands slipped around her waist.

Jennifer sagged against him. ‘God I'm so tired of this shit. Thanks for staying with me. I'm fine now, you can go home. The thugs think we're in Sydney.'

‘Uh-uh, I'm not leaving.'

She let her forehead drop to his chest and mumbled into his shirt, ‘You're a grown man, do whatever you want. I need sleep…lots of sleep.' She took a deep breath. ‘Did anyone tell you, you smell great?'

‘Not for a while.' She heard the smile in his voice.

Before she could take a breath, he swooped her up, and cradled her in his arms; exhausted, she let her head rest on his shoulder.

She sighed, ‘Well you do. I could take your shirt to bed and sleep with…oh God, please ignore me, I'm delirious.'

* * *

Calum carried Jennifer down the hall and into her room. He lay her down on the ruffled pink bed, removed her shoes, and covered her with the quilt. ‘This is becoming a habit,' he murmured. ‘I like it, and I'm not going to miss out on kissing you this time, Jennifer.' He bent down and kissed her soft mouth.

‘Thank you. You know what this place needs?' she said sleepily.

‘No, what does it need?' he gently murmured.

‘People, lots of friendly people,' she said and drifted off.

Calum brushed stray curls from her forehead and left the room. He went to get her mobile and, just in case, placed it on the bedside table within her easy reach. Then he went back down the hall, gathered bedding from Bob's room, and laid it out on the floor at the foot of Jennifer's bed. He yanked off his boots, dress pants and shirt and stretched out. Arms folded behind his head, he chewed over what Jennifer Dove was doing to his mind, his body, and his life.

Christ, he hadn't felt like this about a woman — ever. His body ached to have her lying naked on top of him, under him, beside him. Whatever she wanted, he was ready to give it.

He closed his eyes and re-ran all the moments he'd seen her over the last couple of days and he realised, he treasured every one of them.

Sleep was a long time coming.

* * *

It was still dark when, in a sleepy daze, Jennifer woke, her mind replaying the day's events and then her brain started on the,
what ifs.
The chitchatting and scenes churning in her head wouldn't stop. That wasn't nearly as bad as a drunken idiot who was singing somewhere. If he just kept at it, it would've been fine, but he'd pause and Jennifer's entire system, already wound tight, waited on a knife edge for him to take off again. And when out of the blue the wailing started, she flinched and cursed him under her breath. His mournful tones sounded familiar, but of course that was impossible. She told herself his singing didn't matter and instead of wanting to kill the bastard she should relax into it. Eventually, exhaustion took over, she felt her body grow heavy and drift off when…

Her mobile buzzed.

Heart thumping, she fumbled in the dark and found it on the bedside table.

‘What!?' she yelled, getting up on her knees.

‘Jesus — fuck!' Calum roared, vaulting off the floor a couple of metres behind the end of her bed, his body tense, ready for action.

Eyes wide, Jennifer squealed and stared at Calum, the only light source coming from the face of her mobile phone. ‘What're you doing here?!'

‘Sis, it's Bret,' her brother hissed, breathing hard into the receiver. ‘It's all right, it's me, Bret.'

Hand on her heaving chest, she stared at Calum. ‘Not you, Bret,' she snapped into her phone. She watched Calum's shock fade and his body unwind as he gazed back at her, a warm grin easing into his face. ‘Well thank God! They're letting you use the phone?' Jennifer muttered, her mind distracted by Calum's presence moving closer.

‘I got away,' he laughed. ‘I got out while one of them was talking to you. Man, are they stupid or what.'

After relief, anger quickly set in. Jennifer rubbed her eyes and peered at the fuzzy digits on the bedside clock. ‘It's two in the morning. And you think this is funny!'

‘Jen — they're a couple of amateurs.'

Yeah
, she thought,
and you're almost jumping out of your skin excited at having got away from under their noses
. She supposed he thought that made him smarter.

Bret continued, ‘They're little thugs with big ideas.'

Movement caught her eye: Calum had come around from behind the bed. Feet planted, arms crossed, he stood in front of her wearing nothing but a pair of black, snug, hipster jocks that stretched firmly over his man bits. ‘If…if…' She forced herself to look away and quickly gathered her thoughts. ‘If they're such amateurs,' Jennifer seethed, ‘why didn't you escape before they rang me and why wait until now to tell me you had escaped! Bloody hell, Bret, I've been frantic!'

‘Hey, I've only just stopped running. I'm at a service station outside Blacktown, half an hour from Sydney.'

‘Dare I ask where your mobile is?'

‘Jen, I'm real sorry. Just get yourself another number.'

‘What a good idea, then you can't ring me either!' she yelled.

Silence.

‘Um, Jen, I'm headed for Darwin, don't get any money out. If they ring, tell them from me to go to hell.'

‘You
tell them! And what if they decide to come get the money anyway?
Huh?
Do they know where we are? Bret!'

‘My ride's starting; the semi's engine's running. Bye, sis, call you soon.'

‘Bret! Don't you dare hang up. Bret!' Jennifer hollered. ‘Shit!' The line went dead. She yanked the phone away from her ear and stared at it, as if by some miracle she could make Bret materialise. In a rage, she thumped the phone down on the mattress again and again, cursing with every downward thrust. ‘Bloody-fucking-little-shit!' She knew Calum was watching and didn't care. She lifted her arm ready to throw her mobile at the wall, when a strong hand clasped around her wrist.

‘You'd only have to buy a new one,' Calum whispered softly in her ear and, despite her rage, a little piece of her sighed as a sensuous ripple rushed down her neck and straight into her nipple. Her breath hitched a couple of times as she took in his amazing scent.

Throw your phone, Jennifer!

‘Th-that isn't such a bad idea. A new phone and number and the thugs wouldn't be able to ring.'

He let her go. ‘Okay, go ahead, you'll feel better.'

She raised her hand, and pulled her arm back ready to throw it, but hesitated and decided against wrecking her phone. Besides, she couldn't do it to Bret. Instead, she pummelled her frustration out on the pillows. ‘You bloody little —
Aaarghghg!'

As if on cue, the drunken idiot started singing again. She couldn't get upset with one of Bob's friends tying one on today. Whoever it was, he sounded as if he was in an enormous cave. ‘Please, please, don't let there be a chorus of them,' she let herself drop, and knees bent, back arched, face planted in the pillow, she muttered. ‘And please don't have them come here to sing under Bob's window as a kind of tribute.'