Authors: Elisabeth Rose
“Yes,” yelled Joelle from under her t-shirt as she wrenched it over her head. She flung the cupboard doors open and stared blindly at the contents. Why was he coming here with hardly any notice? What news? About Emily? It must be. What else did they have in common?
Joelle slumped on to the bed holding a white blouse in her hand. That was the problem—it must be. They had nothing in common beyond their parentage. She couldn’t expect Shay to be fascinated by her life and to call her all the time. Why would he be interested in a florist’s business any more than she was interested in his patients? Absolutely nothing kept them together. Siblings were like that.
Look at her sisters. They didn’t live in each other’s pockets and when Mel moved in with Luke they’d create their own life too. Why should her relationship with Shay be any different?
She had to get over this ridiculous and debilitating infatuation and when he arrived tonight, she must treat him no differently to Luke.
Joelle pushed her arms through the sleeves of the blouse and fastened the small pearl buttons. She stood up and tucked the bottom into her jeans, ran a brush through her hair and touched lipstick to her mouth. Then she wiped it off with a frown. She never wore lipstick at home. Shay was her brother.
Get a grip!
When she entered the kitchen Mel had finished making a big bowl of green salad and Luke had cleared the table. The pasta was already in a big saucepan of bubbling water.
“Shall I make garlic bread?” asked Joelle brightly.
“Yes. Love some,” said Luke. “Put plenty of garlic.”
Joelle busied herself with bread, butter and the garlic crusher. Mel set the table.
“I haven’t seen Shay for ages,” she said happily. “He’s going to be surprised when he sees the Bump.”
“The guy’s a doctor, Mel. He’s sure to have seen a preggers lady before,” said Luke. “Another glass of vino, Joelle?”
“Yes, please.” Dutch courage.
The doorbell rang. Joelle froze. Her hands were in the garlic, all stinky and messy. “Get it, someone,” she said weakly. She bent her head low so they didn’t see the flush on her cheeks.
“Sure.” Luke strode to the door.
Then he was there, smiling in through the kitchen doorway as handsome and desirable as ever with those gorgeous brown eyes and that little quirk to his lips. As unattainable as ever. Untouchable.
“Hello.” He walked forward and kissed her cheek.
“Hi. I’m all garlicky.”
Joelle held her hands up and grimaced to cover the violence of the trembling his touch had ignited. He didn’t look at her messy hands, he didn’t look at anything but her eyes. He invaded her. She looked away with cheeks burning and prickly sweat itching all over like crawling ants.
“Hi Shay.” Mel darted around the bench to hug him and bestow a kiss on his cheek. “Look at me. Meet the Bump.”
Shay grinned as he stepped back to admire the bulge. “Looking good. How are you?”
“Super duper. Shay, this is Luke. He’s the proud father.”
Shay thrust out his hand. “Congratulations, mate.”
“Thanks.” Luke slid his arm around Mel. “She’s looking great, isn’t she?”
“Absolutely. Even better now you’re here.”
“Like a drink? Joelle and I are on the red. Mel’s on the OJ.”
“Boring OJ,” put in Mel.
“Red’s fine. Thanks.”
“Come and sit down and tell us the news,” said Mel. Luke poured Shay a glass of wine from the bottle on the bench.
“This will be ready in a couple of minutes. Shouldn’t we eat first?” said Joelle swiftly. Hadn’t Shay come to see her? Wasn’t his news for her alone? Not Mel and Luke. Surely she could expect some privacy if this was about her own mother.
Shay threw her an uncertain look. She knew her face had assumed a hard, closed expression but she couldn’t help it.
Mel started, “But Shay can…”
“Mel,” said Luke, “maybe it’s private. Maybe Shay wants to talk to Joelle alone.”
“Do you?” she demanded. By the amazed look that concept was completely foreign.
“Well…” said Shay. Joelle opened the top cupboard for a colander. Her back was turned, her face deliberately hidden so they couldn’t read the emotions which would be played out so clearly whichever answer he gave. “Sort of…not really, I suppose.”
“See?” said Mel triumphantly. “He can tell us over dinner.”
Joelle firmed her mouth and concentrated on rinsing the pasta under hot water.
“Come and help me serve,” she said.
“Eat first, talk later,” said Luke. “Sit down, mate.”
Mel and Luke cleared the dirty dishes after the meal and Mel started making coffee. Joelle sat rigidly in her seat. She’d barely eaten. Her throat had clamped shut. Shay sat opposite staring directly at her with such an intense expression she began to be fearful of what he might say, although she had no idea what that could possibly be. He hadn’t even hinted at his news while they ate.
Perhaps he was trying to guess what she was thinking. She wasn’t thinking anything, she was too surprised by his sudden appearance to put two coherent thoughts together. She stared at the tablecloth with its familiar pattern of tiny yellow flowers.
“It’s about Emily,” he said.
Joelle flicked a glance across the table. His eyes burned her. She was glad now that Mel and Luke were here to dilute the tension.
“Have you found some rellos?” asked Mel from the kitchen. “I’ve had bugger all response to my letters. Not a bloody sausage. I thought…”
Joelle clutched her glass of wine like a life preserver.
“What about Emily?” she asked cutting across Mel’s chatter abruptly.
“A man answered one of my ads.”
“He knew her?” asked Mel.
“Pipe down, Mel,” Luke said sternly.
Shay nodded but didn’t turn his head. “He did know her. Not very well as it turned out. His wife did. She grew up across the road from Emily in Toowoomba. They were best friends.”
Joelle sat riveted to her seat. Her eyes wouldn’t leave Shay’s face now. His had never left hers.
“Emily fell pregnant to a student, a foreign student from somewhere in Europe. Your father,” he said. “Northern Europe I’d say by the look of you. He cleared out and left her. Went home.”
“Was he your father too?” Joelle could barely speak.
“No, not mine. My father is Andrew Nolan. The man who called me.”
“Whaa-a-t?” Joelle’s brain refused to process what he’d told her. Something wasn’t right. “But you said he didn’t know Emily. His wife did.”
“That’s right,” said Shay.
“Emily’s not your mother,” blurted Mel.
“No. My mother was Megan Nolan. She was the woman who died in the fires. Remember I told you people had been killed that day? A woman and her baby were thought to have died in a place called Toolac. I was that baby and I didn’t die. Emily saved me. Everyone assumed we were mother and son but we weren’t. I’m John Nolan.”
“Emily saved you,” breathed Joelle. John Nolan? Not Shay.
“And you. She saved us both. She was a very brave girl. My mother sent her and me away to safety, we think, but Emily got lost.”
“You’ve met this man, your father?” asked Joelle. “That’s where you’ve been,” she added under her breath.
“We had a DNA test done to make quite sure. I didn’t want to tell you until I knew definitely.”
“Shay’s not your brother,” said Mel in a choking voice. “You’re not related at all.”
“Come on, Mel, we’re going to the movies,” put in Luke.
“But…”
“Now.”
Joelle barely heard them leave. Disbelief, shock, confusion. She’d lost her new brother. She’d lost her real family completely. They truly had nothing in common. Shay wasn’t her brother. They’d been facing this new world of hers together but what could bind him to her now?
Shay wasn’t her brother. There was no one whose blood was her blood. Joelle rose from her chair and moved to the sliding door opening onto the balcony. It was dark outside. She pulled the door open letting the fresh night air bring sensation to her numbed brain. Lights twinkled from neighbouring houses and a steady stream of moving dots glowed from the highway over by the ocean. They disappeared as the road curved behind a rise then the travelling string of light emerged further south. Like a living thing blindly following a predetermined path.
Shay had risen when she did. She moved like a zombie. He stood behind her on the balcony. Silently. Waiting for her reaction, trying to judge what she was thinking and feeling. Would she come to the realisation as he had? Would it mean anything at all to her beyond the obvious? Would it enter her head? Invade her body with a delicious awareness?
They weren’t related.
Which meant she was free to love him. He could barely breathe for fear of further upsetting her.
“I suddenly feel very alone,” she murmured.
“I’m here,” he answered softly, terrified he may not be enough, she may be seeking more than he could offer. He longed to reach out and touch her hair. Stroke his fingers down the softness of her cheek. He didn’t dare. Not yet.
“I’d just got used to you being my brother,” she said. “And now I’ve lost you.”
“I’m not lost,” he said.
“You are to me,” she replied. “Don’t you see? It was you and me—together—looking for our relatives. Now you’ve found yours and I’m happy for you. Really happy.” She spun to face him. “But I’m by myself. I have no relatives at all. We have no connection except for some bizarre freak of timing that happened twenty-seven and a half years ago.” She stared wildly into his eyes. “I wish…I wish…you’d never found me. I was happy before.”
Shay gripped her upper arms and held tightly. His breath locked in his lungs at the harshness of her words. His hopes crumbled. He gasped, “Don’t say you wished you’d never met me, Joelle. I couldn’t bear it if that’s what you mean.”
Her eyes opened wide—big blue pools gleaming with unshed tears. She gulped and lowered her gaze. He relaxed his fingers but didn’t let her go.
“No. I don’t mean that. I…I don’t know what I mean.”
Her body sagged and he clutched her, unresisting, against his chest. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed. “It’s so disappointing,” she whispered.
“Is it?” She stiffened in his arms, waiting for his next comment. She didn’t draw away. A telltale tremor gave him courage. He said, “I’m not disappointed, I’m glad. In fact I’ve never been so delighted about anything in my entire life.”
Joelle lifted her head and tilted it back slightly to look up at him. A shadow of bewilderment still clouded her face. She hadn’t understood. Her lips were tantalising centimetres from his own but he had to be sure. She had to be absolutely sure. He took the plunge.
“I love you,” he said clearly. “And not as my sister. I’ve loved you for ages. It’s been pure hell. Incest is not on my list of things to try.” His laugh sounded grotesquely strangled.
Joelle stared wordlessly. Her face was blank with a surprise that shrivelled his heart. He clenched his teeth firmly together to prevent his jaw trembling. He steeled himself for her shocked rejection. An apology began working its way to his lips. His hands reluctantly loosened their hold on her sweet body. He closed his eyes briefly but they flew open when her lips brushed his, her arms slipped around his neck.
“I fell in love with you at first sight,” she whispered. “I told Viv in the shop that first day you came in. Before I even knew your name.”
“I can’t believe it,” Shay murmured.
“Believe it. I was sick to the stomach when I found out you were my brother. It was a hideous, hideous secret.”
“I know. Impossible to tell anyone. Most of all you.”
“Impossible to stop that feeling.”
“I’ve searched my whole life for you,” he said as he gazed into eyes that shone with love. “But I never dreamed it would be you I found.”
Neither knew who closed the gap between their lips but the kiss was as sweet as Shay had ever tasted and sweeter than Joelle had ever imagined a kiss could be.
“I never wanted a brother,” Joelle said a few minutes later.
“I’ve already got a sister,” Shay replied. “I don’t need two.”
“I can’t call you John.”
Shay kissed her again. “I don’t care.”
He led her inside. Joelle slid the door closed and drew the curtains. Shay pulled her into his arms where she fitted perfectly.
And finally the ripples ceased their movement. The lie was stilled. Truth was told.
by Ainslie Paton
From the bestselling author of
Grease Monkey Jive
comes a rollercoaster rock-and-roll ride of confronting fears, making music, and learning to be true.
Rielle Mainline is a rock star with a hardcore image, a troubled heart, and a twenty-five-city tour to front with her band, Ice Queen. She should be ecstatic. But the tour includes Sydney and Rielle has spent years running away from that city.
Jake Reed knows Rielle’s reputation as a prize bitch will make being Ice Queen’s tour manager a challenge, but Jake’s confident he can handle her — until he meets her. Then he’s off-balance, not sure if he wants to run as fast as he can towards or away from her. Sparks fly, tempers flare, and two loners are about to discover that being alone isn’t the same as being lonely.
by Jenny Schwartz
In a style reminiscent of Robyn Carr, an intensely emotional story about taking chances and risking your heart.
When her family home burns down, it’s the final heartbreak for Rita Jorden who has already lost her parents. Her boss, former SAS captain and head of Tamerlane Security, Ivan Novak, steps in, offering her his home and his help. But Ivan has his own demons, and although he’s interested in Rita, there’s darkness in his past that could cause her harm. Thrown together into a situation that’s too close for comfort, this story can only end in one of two ways: in the destruction of Rita’s dreams of love — or the gift of healing and hope to two damaged survivors.