‘Please yourself.’ He turned on the radio and studiously ignored her for the rest of the meal.
There was no relief in his silence. The atmosphere was charged with tension. Ellie didn’t bother to try and relieve it as she tidied up the kitchen and hung his clothes on coat hangers to dry overnight. Why should she? He’d barged into the house like an avenging angel and treated her like dirt.
Despite her quick temper, Ellie’s personality was sunny. People were usually attracted to her, which was why Patrick’s churlish attitude puzzled her.
Had he been a child she’d have brought her charm to bear and won him round. But this was a man she was dealing with, an intelligent one. He presented a different kind of challenge, and she wasn’t about to give him an inch.
She doubted he would give her an inch either. Relaxed in Aunt Vera’s chair, his long legs extended towards the fire, Patrick was comfortably unaware of the ridiculous figure he presented in the pink pants and matching calamine lotion.
He looked incredibly fit. His skin resembled fine burnished leather stretched over supple muscle and sinew. Graceful was not an adjective usually applied to men, but Ellie couldn’t think of one that fitted his physical form better.
Realizing her libido was showing signs of disturbance Ellie tore her eyes away from him. It was no good lusting after a man whose disposition was opposite to her own. She’d gone that route before. She wanted a man she could manage, like his brother. Andrew Morgan was sweet-tempered, kind, and he
respected
her.
Ellie frowned slightly. Andrew just needed a little bit of encouragement, that was all. ‘Are those for my bed?’
Without realizing it, Ellie had taken sheets from the airing cupboard, and was idly smoothing them with her hand while she thought.
* * * *
Patrick yawned. ‘Make it snappy. I’m tired.’
He
was tired! Did he think she wasn’t? She ached all over from dragging him to the Rover. Because of him her favorite dress was ruined, her nails ragged and chipped, her shoulders tight with tension. She hated the sight of his sprawling figure, his sardonic smile, his hives. Had she the strength, Ellie knew she would happily feed him through the meat mincer piece by piece.
‘I’m not your slave.’ The sheets flew from her hands and landed on his chest. She derived a certain amount of satisfaction from the astonishment on his face. ‘You’re big and ugly enough to fix your own bed.’
‘You’ve got a hell of a temper on you, Eloise.’ He rose to his feet in one fluid motion and loomed threateningly over her. ‘Someone needs to put you over their knee and paddle it out of you.’ He looked as though he’d elected himself for the job if the sense of purpose in his eyes was any indication.
Ellie headed for her bedroom at a fast trot, then jammed a chair under the door handle as a precaution.
‘Just try and get in here and I’ll brain you,’ she muttered under her breath. She looked around for a weapon to do it with. Her glance fell on Todd. He was sat up in bed watching her through sleep-fuddled eyes.
‘Are you my mum, Ellie?’
Todd went back to sleep as soon as Ellie tucked him back under the covers. Tears came to her eyes. ‘Don’t I wish, angel,’ she whispered in his ear. ‘It’s a pity you come as a package otherwise I’d certainly apply for the job.
Ellie rose early; woken by Todd’s urgent need to visit the bathroom. Her own urge, which was to consume at least a gallon of hot tea, overrode the desire for an extra hour’s sleep.
The kitchen was warm, the kettle left on the banked up stove steaming. Patrick’s clothes were gone so he’d been up before her.
Ellie thrust the tousled hair from her eyes and made the tea. She gazed at Todd. Chin balanced on his elbows he gazed back at her.
‘May I have pancakes for breakfast, please?’
‘In a minute. If I don’t have two cups of tea to start the day I turn into a grouch.’ She smiled when Todd giggled. ‘Would you like a cup?’
‘I’m not allowed tea.’ His head cocked to one side. ‘Dad said milk makes you strong.’
Ellie poured some milk into a glass and slid it across to him. ‘Are you strong?’
Todd’s tongue came out and licked the residue from his lips. ‘One day I’m going to be just like Patch.’
Ellie gazed thoughtfully at the boy whilst she finished her tea. She hoped not, one Patrick Morgan was bad enough. She poured herself another cup and started making a pancake batter.
She was doing fine until Patrick walked into the kitchen. Having decided that one thick pancake would take less time than lots of thin ones, she’d tipped half the batter into the heated pan. She was now watching it, hoping the middle would cook before the edges burned.
‘Good morning, Eloise.’
Patrick sounded almost human, and she whipped around in surprise. That was her undoing. The sleeve of the lose robe she wore caught around the handle of the pan and sent its contents crashing to the floor. Splattered with hot fat and warm batter she leaped backwards, tripped over the cat, who’d appeared from nowhere then fell into Patrick’s arms.
* * * *
Patrick grinned down at her, and Todd clapped his hands like she’d just performed some amazing circus act.
‘Could you do that again, Patrick said, his voice loaded with irony. ‘I nearly missed it.’
‘Very funny.’ If the amusement in his eyes wasn’t bad enough, the position of the hands that had caught her was
worse.
She’d fallen backwards, and each of his hands firmly cupped one of her breasts. Patrick was looking down at her, his face upside-down. ‘Let me go this minute,’ she hissed.
‘
This
minute?’ Awareness came into his eyes when he looked at his hands. Ellie could have sworn his thumbs gently caressed her nipples. ‘Are you sure?’ he mocked, as they swelled into a response.
‘Now!’
Ellie expected him to haul her upright first. Instead, Patrick abruptly withdrew his arms. Her rear end hit the floor with a resounding thump. She would have screamed abuse at him if Todd hadn’t been there. Instead, she scrambled to her feet, gave him an indignant glare, and stepped forward, straight into the middle of the pancake. As the batter oozed up between her toes she whispered a succinct oath.
Patrick’s laugh started off as a quiet chuckle, then became a torrent as Todd joined in. Ellie pulled her robe close around her and left them too it. She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry as she limped on one foot and heel towards the bathroom.
After washing the batter from her foot she stared at herself in the mirror. On impulse, she threw back her head and screamed out her frustration in one long yell.
Ellie felt better when she reached her bedroom. She shrugged into a pair of jeans and a fleecy white sweater, then pulled her hair into a lose knot on her crown before returning to the kitchen.
Patrick had cleaned up the mess.
‘One thing you’ve guys have got to learn about me,’ she said, her eyes sweeping from one grinning face to the other. ‘I
never admit
to defeat.’
Patrick’s grin became a smile. The ground seemed to lurch under Ellie’s feet. She’s never have thought his smile would be quite so delicious? It made her tingle from head to toe.
Then she remembered his temper and mentally stamped censored across his smile. She gave him an accusing look, turned back towards the bench and began to prepare the pancake batter all over again.
‘I’m going into Benella to do some shopping, she told them. Ellie also intended to lunch at the restaurant Andrew frequented, but she wasn’t about to tell Patrick that.
‘I can drop you off at your home if you like.’
‘My home’s in the creek.’ The slim white sheath she’d changed into got a slow once-over. Although it covered her from neck to knee, Ellie suddenly felt naked. He smiled as she shrugged into a red leather jacket that matched her shoes, drawling, ‘Actually, Eloise, you’re not going anywhere.’
‘Try and stop me.’ The hostility in her voice didn’t escape his notice. He frowned when she picked up the keys to the Land Rover.
‘I won’t have to, the creek’s still up.’ He plucked the keys from her hand. ‘Besides ... I need the Rover. I might be able to get a line on the van when the water drops a bit. It’s wedged against a tree.’
‘In that case I’ll take the long way round.’ She took another set of keys from her bag and jiggled them triumphantly under his nose. ‘I have my own car in the garage.’
‘That English job.’ His lips cracked into a grin. ‘I bet that was expensive.’
‘What off it?’ Ellie’s father had bought her the car before he died. The gift had been unexpected because he usually respected her wish for independence. He’d excused his generosity by telling her the ancient mini she drove was unsafe and he worried about her. She’d accepted the car on that basis.
Patrick shrugged. ‘It will get dirty.’
‘Haven’t you ever heard of a car-wash,’ she scoffed. She walked away from him when she detected the beginnings of a sneer on his face. ‘I’ll drop in on Andrew and see if he can provide you with another set of clothes, shall I?’
‘Suit yourself.’
The least he could have done was thank her, she fumed storming from the house. How one set of parents could have produced such a contrast in sons was beyond her. Andrew and Patrick Morgan were completely different in looks and personality. It was as if their genes had divided into two definite branches.
Andrew was everything that was good, a golden haired angel with a kind gentle nature. Patrick? She snorted. Patrick was a dark-haired demon with a temper to match. She’d never despised anyone so much in her life.
At least the rain had dwindled to a fine drizzle. Ellie congratulated herself as she backed the car from the garage. She hadn’t really expected the rain spell to work. Now the drought was broken and the local farmers would be assured of good feed for their livestock in the coming summer.
Deep in thought, Ellie headed down the hill towards the valley. Absently she followed the tracks of another vehicle, avoiding the potholes as best she could. The road was really a track, narrow in part, and rarely used since the council had graded a road through to her aunt’s place. Not that they’d done it for her benefit.
The house had once been part of a dairy farm, and had been purchased by her aunt when the area had been parceled into small holdings. The farmlets hadn’t sold, and the land now belonged to a consortium of businessmen that intended to build a golf course and resort infrastructure. Her father had been involved in that. His share was presently being argued over by the two banks that had backed him in the project.
It would be a shame to spoil this part of Victoria, she though, gazing at the rolling wooded hill and distant mountains as she rounded a bend and headed into the valley. It was part of her childhood.
Each summer holiday had been spent here when she’d been growing up. She smiled as she recalled her childish excitement each time her father drove the one hundred and twenty miles from Melbourne to let her stay with her aunt and thrive in the country air.
Her reveries were brought to a sudden end when the car skewed to a sudden halt. The breath left her body as she was thrown forward against her seat-belt. A slimy substance coated the windscreen, its suddenness making her flinch.
Mud!
She’d driven into a mud hole. She applied her eye to a small clear patch. She’d done more than that. Stretched in front of her was a debris-filled lake. She’d forgotten the creek curved through the valley. The whole area was flooded.
The tire tracks she’d followed? Her face screwed into a scowl. Patrick had already been down here. He’d known about this.
Slamming the car into reverse she attempted to back out, but only succeeded in coating the rear window to match the front, and sinking deeper into the mire. The damned thing wasn’t going to move.
‘That misbegotten son of a ...’ She mentally apologized to Patrick’s mother. It was at least two miles back to the house. She’d have to walk back and ask for his help.
Her second shock came when she tried to open the door. It wouldn’t budge. When she stuck her head out of the window she saw that the mud was up over the bottom on the door. The only way out was through the window. Hitching her skirt up to her thighs she extended one leg through the window. She managed to get a grip on the steering wheel with one hand then grabbed the back of the seat with the other. The other leg slid through, a bit of wiggling saw her buttocks balanced, and then she shoved. She made a perfect landing. Both of her feet touched the mud at the same time, then they sank and she fell forward.
This time she didn’t spare Patrick’s mother.
‘Son of a bitch!’
The leg made a sucking sound as her shoe was left behind, as did her next step. Concentrating on the vast expanse of mud she spat out various expletives - all aimed at Patrick Morgan, as she sludged her way to the bank. She stopped dead as a couple of wheels hove into her vision.
Patrick lounged against the Rover, his arms crossed, a smile of pure delight on his face.
‘You ... you ...?’ she spluttered. Her eyes narrowed when he chuckled. ‘You did it on purpose, didn’t you?’
‘Did what? I told you the creek was still up. It’s not my fault you chose not to listen.’ Picking up a rope coiled on the bonnet he handed her the noosed end. ‘Go and loop it over your tow bar. I’ll haul you out.’
‘Me?’ She couldn’t wade through that mud again. ‘Why don’t you do it?’
‘It’s
your
car and
you’re
already dirty,’ he pointed out. ‘If you want to leave it there that’s up to you.’ He shrugged. ‘If it rains again –’
‘I get the message,’ she hissed through gritted teeth. ‘You’ve obviously got no intention of behaving like a gentleman.’
‘Got it in one.’
Ellie wished one of the black and white magpies that nested in the area would swoop down and pluck the amusement from his face. No - a giant prehistoric Pterandon would be better! It could flap away with Patrick clutched in its claws. It wouldn’t know the difference between him and a cave man anyway.