‘One or two,’ he said. ‘More see you than you see them, of course. They can get pretty aggressive during the mating season in February, but only if you disturb them.’
The bush opened up in front of them and Fran got her first full glimpse of Jacob’s house. It was a simple design, large windows and a wrap-around deck that would be perfect for lazy afternoons, sipping tea, relaxing and taking in the view.
‘Have you bought this or are you renting?’ she asked as he led the way inside.
‘I bought it,’ Jacob said. ‘Even if I move on at some point I figured it was too good a location to miss out on. My parents honeymooned in Pelican Bay thirty-five years ago. Back then there wasn’t even a general store. I think if my father hadn’t been killed they would have moved here to live in their retirement. My mother loved sitting out on the deck, listening to the birds. She even tamed a magpie while she was here last.’
‘I can see why she loved it so much,’ Fran said, looking at the view. ‘It’s so…so peaceful.’
‘I’ve been doing a bit of work on it here and there. It needed a new kitchen and the floors needed sanding. All I have to do now is paint the spare bedroom and I’m done.’
Fran looked around in awe. Even her do-it-yourself-expert father would have been impressed with the handiwork. The timber floors were smooth and shiny, covered here and there with woven rugs. The open-plan kitchen was decked out in stainless-steel appliances with glass splashbacks along the benches. It led to a dining and family room area that was expansive, the sweeping view of the ocean below making her stop and stare.
‘You can see right along the beach from here,’ she said. ‘It’s beautiful.’
He came to stand beside her. ‘There’s a sea eagle’s nest up in those trees over there.’
Fran could feel her senses spring to attention at his closeness. ‘Where?’ Her voice came out husky and soft.
His shoulder brushed hers as he lifted his arm to point to a scraggly nest at the top of a gumtree. ‘There,’ he said. ‘Can you see that crooked branch up there? It’s just to the right of that.’
‘I see it…’ she said, barely able to breathe.
He dropped his arm back down to his side. ‘I often see dolphins and about a month ago a couple of whales cruised past.’
‘Wow,’ she said, turning to look at him.
Wow is right
, she thought, her heart giving a little stammer as his ice-blue eyes met hers.
She watched as his gaze slipped to her mouth, lingering there for a pulsing moment before moving back to mesh with hers.
She could hear a clock ticking somewhere. It seemed to be measuring the silence, making each second swell with sensual promise.
‘Um…your cheek has opened up again,’ she said in a husky voice. ‘I meant to tell you earlier and I really must see to your arm.’
He put a hand up to his face and grimaced when it came away streaked with blood. ‘Maybe I should have got you to dress it for me the first time,’ he said with a rueful half-smile.
‘I could do it now…I mean, if you would like me to. I mean, if you’ve got a first-aid kit…or something…‘ Fran knew she was prattling on like a gauche schoolgirl but she couldn’t seem to stop it.
His eyes contained a hint of amusement. ‘Come on,’ he said. ‘The main bathroom is through here. I have a first-aid kit in there.’
Fran concentrated on washing her hands and assembling the things she needed to dress Jacob’s arm rather than meet his gaze in the mirror. The bathroom was spacious, with a Balinese theme that was pure luxury, but she felt like she was working from inside a shoebox with Jacob sitting so close on a bath-stool.
‘This might sting a bit,’ she said as she bathed his burn with antiseptic, carefully wiping away some debris from the wound.
‘You have a very gentle touch,’ he said. ‘I can barely feel a thing.’
Fran had attended to numerous burn patients during her years in A and E but never had one had such an overwhelming effect on her. Her senses were on overload, her nostrils flaring at his male scent, the skin on her face feeling tingly when his breath caressed her as he spoke. She had to work hard to concentrate on what she was doing, instead of staring into those dark-rimmed eyes of his that seemed determined to search for hers whenever he could.
Once the dressing was in place, she put the used items in the bin near the basins. ‘Let’s have a look at that cheek of yours,’ she said, wishing she felt more like a doctor and less like a woman in danger of falling in love.
He held his head at an angle for her to inspect the wound. ‘Will I be scarred for life?’ he asked.
Fran’s hand trembled as she dabbed some Betadine on the wound. ‘Not noticeably so,’ she said. ‘I thought you were going to get a black eye, but apart from a little swelling you’ve not done too badly.’
‘Yeah, I’m pretty tough,’ he said as he rose to his feet, his tall figure towering over her. ‘You’ve got to be to get on in communities like this.’
She stepped back and tried to get her breathing to settle back down. ‘Your arm…well, vitamin E cream daily will help reduce scarring but you don’t strike me as the type to bother with such things.’
He gave her that hint of a smile again. ‘If you’d like to freshen up, there’s another bathroom down the hall.
I’ll
meet you in a few minutes in the kitchen.’
Fran made her way to the bathroom, glad of a chance to restore some sort of order to her appearance and her wayward emotions. She washed her hands and face and quickly finger-combed her hair, trying not to be too harsh on her windblown reflection.
When she came out Jacob was in the kitchen with Rufus. Jacob had changed his shorts and flung on a white cotton shirt, buttoned to about halfway up his chest, giving her an eyeful of muscle-bound flesh and masculine hair that her fingers itched to trail through.
He had given the dog a huge bowl of water, which was now half-empty. Rufus was lying on the cool floorboards, totally relaxed as if he lived there.
‘Nice for some,’ Jacob said, nodding towards the dog.
Fran felt a smile tug at her mouth. ‘You’re really good with him. Have you ever had a dog of your own?’
‘Yes, when I was a kid. I would have one now but I work so many shifts it wouldn’t be fair on the dog. When the time is right I will, though.’
Fran wondered what he meant by the right time. Was he thinking of settling down with someone, perhaps having a family? She wanted to ask but thought it was a bit forward. She barely knew him.
‘Would you like a cold drink or tea or coffee?’ Jacob asked.
‘I know this probably sounds stupid on a warm day like this but I would really like a cup of tea,’ she said.
‘It doesn’t sound stupid to me.’ He reached for the kettle and filled it under the tap. ‘Why don’t you head out to the deck and take in the view while I get it ready?’
Fran went through the sliding doors and sat on one of the cushioned lounges, breathing in the breeze that carried a hint of the salty sea with it. A flock of sulphur-crested cockatoos
was screeching as they jostled for position on the branches of the gumtree about halfway down the path. The sun was low in the sky, throwing pastel hues over the horizon, soft pink, mauve and a hint of washed-out orange in the cloudless sky, signalling another fine warm day ahead.
The hectic pace of Melbourne suddenly seemed a long way away. Before the night of her attack Fran had not really noticed how busy the city was, or how rushed everyone seemed to be. She had been a part of it, caught up in the race of getting things done, juggling work and the occasional attempt at a social life, feeling satisfied as each week closed that she had achieved everything she had set out to achieve.
Then three minutes had changed everything.
And she couldn’t—no matter how hard she tried—change it back.
Jacob carried a tray with two cups and a pot of tea out to the deck. Fran was sitting looking at the view with a wistful expression on her face. With her long blonde hair and clear skin with no hint of make-up she looked about sixteen. She had a coltish figure, slim and leggy but still very feminine, and she had a soft mouth—that was one of the first things he had noticed about her but it was nearly always turned downwards, as if she found smiling uncomfortable.
‘Here we go,’ he said, setting the tray down on the outdoor coffee table next to her seat. ‘Help yourself. There’s milk and sugar if you take it and those cookies are some of Beryl Hadley’s. She’s taken me on as a sort of project, I think.’
A quizzical look came into her eyes. ‘Oh, really?’
He gave a wry twist of his mouth as he sat on the seat at the other side of the table. ‘Yeah, Beryl is one of those women
who think every man over thirty should be married with a couple of kids. She’s on a mission to find me a suitable wife.’
He watched as two circles of rosy colour pooled in her cheeks as she cradled her cup in both hands. ‘I am sure you are quite capable of finding your own partner,’ she said with her gaze averted.
‘Not so easy down here,’ he said as he sat back. He crossed his legs at the ankles and took a sip of his tea. ‘But then again I’m in no hurry.’
The lull in conversation made the sound of the cockatoos all the more ear-piercing.
Fran took another sip of the refreshing tea before she spoke. ‘So what made you accept the posting down here? Was it just because your mother liked it here?’
He leaned forward to take a cookie from the plate. ‘A combination of things, I guess. I wanted a change. Fighting crime in the city can make you pretty cynical after a while. Down here it’s different. Of course, people still break the law, but the focus is on helping people in smaller communities like this. You feel you can really make a difference.’
‘How long do you intend on staying, or is that up to the powers that be?’
He considered his response for a moment. ‘I have some things I would like to achieve while I’m here. So I haven’t put a time limit on it. I’m pretty much taking things as they come. I’m still sorting out some of my mother’s stuff both here and in Sydney. I don’t want to rush into any decision until I feel it’s time.’
She looked back at the cup in her hands and took another sip, her gaze going back to the rolling ocean. ‘I know this sounds kind of weird but I feel like I would have really liked your mother if I’d met her,’ she said. She swung her gaze back
to his. ‘This is exactly the sort of place I love. It’s so peaceful you can hear yourself breathing.’
‘Apart from the cockatoos.’
‘Yes, I guess you’re right.’
Another silence.
‘More tea?’ he asked.
Fran shook her head. ‘No, that was lovely, thank you.’ She put her cup down and, using the wooden arms of the seat, pushed herself upright. ‘I guess I should get going. It will be dark soon.’
He rose and gathered the cups back on the tray. ‘I’ll drive you and Rufus back.’
‘You don’t have to do that. We can go along the road.’
‘I’m going that way anyway,’ he said, leading the way back inside. ‘Besides, you don’t want to be late for your busy evening,’ he added over his shoulder.
Fran looked at him in confusion when he turned to face her once he put the tray on the bench. ‘I’m not busy. I’m just going home to feed Rufus and watch TV.’
His top lip lifted along with one dark eyebrow. ‘So you blew me off for a soap opera, huh?’
Fran felt her cheeks burning, but regardless she jutted her chin. ‘I’m not in the habit of accepting dates from men who feel sorry for me.’
‘You think that’s what it was about?’ he asked.
Her lips suddenly felt as dry as charcoal as he locked gazes with her. She sent the tip of her tongue out to moisten her mouth, her belly flip-flopping when he stepped closer. ‘W-what are you doing?’ she asked, surprised her voice came out at all, let alone as scratchy as it did.
‘What do you think I’m doing?’ he asked, still holding her gaze.
Fran flattened the middle of her spine against the bench, her heart feeling as if it was going to break through her ribcage. ‘Um…I’m not sure…’
His eyes still contained that spark of amusement, or was it mockery? She couldn’t quite tell. She held her breath as he reached past her waist, his arm brushing her there, setting off fireworks underneath her skin. Every pore came alive, dancing, leaping and exploding with excitement. She ran her tongue over her lips, wondering if he was going to kiss her. The atmosphere suddenly seemed charged with the possibility. Her heart rate picked up, her spine tingled, her belly quivered, her eyelashes fluttered once or twice, her eyes flicking to his mouth so close…so close…
Then she heard the rattle of his keys as he brought his arm back to his side. ‘My keys were on the bench,’ he said, dangling them from his fingers.
Fran blinked. ‘Oh…right…of course…’ She let out her breath in stages, her cheeks feeling furnace-hot as his eyes continued to hold hers.
He smiled that half-smile again. ‘Not that I wasn’t thinking about doing what you were thinking I was going to do,’ he said, his eyes flicking to her mouth and back again.
Her eyes widened but she tried to keep her voice airy and light. ‘You think you can read my mind, Sergeant Hawke?’
He lifted his hand and outlined her mouth with the pad of his index finger, taking his time, lingering over the sensitive labrum of her top lip until every nerve was sensitised. Fran quivered under his touch, her breath stalling, her spine feeling as if a stream of warmed honey instead of muscles and ligaments was trying to keep her vertebrae in place. Her heart tapdanced in her chest, a crazy dance that made her feel dizzy.
‘I guess since you were expecting me to kiss you, maybe
I ought to go right ahead and do it,’ he said, brushing her bottom lip with the pad of his thumb.
Somehow Fran got her voice to work; she even got it to sound tart, even a little sarcastic. ‘Please don’t feel at all obligated.’
Her breath caught in her throat as he stepped closer. She could feel his hips within touching distance, and at one point he brushed against her, the intimate contact of his very male body making every sense of hers switch to overload.
The tension in the air was almost palpable. She felt every second humming with it.