Toeing off her boots, socks, a deep sigh escaped from her lungs as she sat and waited for the connection, dipping hot feet in deliciously cool water.
Her friend’s muffled curse made her smile.
‘Hi, Lou, it’s me.’
‘Hang on. Bloody hell, woman, what time is it?’
‘Too early?’
‘No, how are you?’
‘Fine. Tell me...’
‘Wait. Don’t speak.’ The furious tone of her friend’s voice made her frown. ‘Are you sitting down?’
‘Yep.’ Coco splashed her feet wondering what the hell could have gone wrong now.
‘Ethan’s arrived,’ Louise growled.
Coco winced.
Why was it the men they adored seemed to give them nothing but heartache?
‘Lou?’ she prompted when she heard nothing but silence.
‘Sergei Kandinsky
is
hunting for his family and he’s a vicious bastard, that’s all true. But you’re not going to believe this. I can hardly believe it myself and Ethan’s absolutely furious. He can’t believe they could do such a thing to you, to us.’ Her friend took a deep breath then blurted, ‘Your father wasn’t shot. It was a trick. The whole thing was set-up by Rafe to get you out of harm’s way. But why the hell couldn’t he have talked to us like adults?’
‘What?’
With legs not quite steady, Coco stood.
Unable to keep physically still, her wet feet slapped on sun-warmed stone as she paced back and forth. And all the while her brain raced.
Heady relief that her father was fine roiled with nausea in her throat as she battled with the memories of shock and guilt that he’d been shot.
Shot?
She’d do more than bloody shoot him when she got her hands on him.
How could her own father talk to her on the phone like that, and
lie
?
Then the way Rafe had ordered her to pack, marching her out of
her
house.
Like a puppet jerking on strings she’d done exactly as they’d asked.
Strings they’d pulled.
They’d made sure she couldn’t think, didn’t have time to find her composure.
The controlling sons-of-bitches had made sure she jumped when they said jump.
And not only that they’d dragged Nico and Bronte into the mix.
How
dare
Rafe cause chaos like this?
The memory of being held heart broken in his arms poured molten rage through her system. Then the way he’d caused her savage arousal, hurt and confused her, as he told her he didn’t want her.
He’d wound her up, keeping her off balance, needy and hurt.
The bastard had played her like a pro.
His cruelty knew no bounds.
How could he do such a thing to her?
Her mind raced through possibilities.
He wanted to talk did he?
Christ, he probably wanted to confess all to pave the way into her panties!
And it would all be her fault, as per bloody usual.
To think, she fumed, she’d been worried about Rafe, thinking he’d been under too much stress.
She’d give him stress all right.
Keep calm, keep calm, she chanted.
Don’t get angry.
Get fucking even.
Everything that had happened in the last twenty-four hours raced through her mind as Louise continued, ‘Rafe’s orders are that we mustn’t know where you are. Sounds totally over the top to me.’ She heaved a sigh. ‘Ethan will be so relieved you’ve got in touch. And he’s had a major argument on the phone with your father. I never thought I’d live to see that day.’
Fury raged through Coco’s system as she stopped dead.
Her mind whirled.
So what if her brother was standing up to their father on her behalf?
Who the hell cared?
It was too little too late.
When would the men in her life ever learn?
A plan whispered in her ear.
‘No, Louise. Don’t tell him.’
‘But why? He’s worried sick about you.’
Coco picked up an unusual tone in her friend’s voice and shrugged it off.
Screwing up her eyes she frantically tried to remember the sequence of events in her bedroom yesterday. ‘Rafe has no idea I have this phone, does he?’
‘No, he didn’t look in the backpack.’
Music to her ears, Coco thought with an evil little smile. ‘You’ve not spoken to me. Promise me.’
Her friend heaved a deep sigh. ‘What’s going on?’
Even as righteous rage pulsed in her heart, a bubbling anger scabbed a crust over a disillusionment with Rafe that shook her to the core.
Coco ground out the words, ‘Let’s just say Rafael Cavendish is about to have a come to Jesus moment.’
Louise groaned. ‘Be careful, look what happened last time.’
Hurt was struggling to slice through sheer temper now and Coco simply could not permit it.
So she took a very deep breath. ‘I’ll be careful.’
They discussed a couple of business issues, which had her clench her fist at the number of plans they’d need to change and meetings re-scheduled. Ooh, she could kill him, she really could.
What about the vulnerable people who needed her?
He hadn’t even thought about them, had he?
Coco forced herself to remain calm and promised faithfully to contact Louise soon before she hung up.
Tapping the cell phone to her chin, she paced.
There was always the possibility that Rafe would find the satellite phone once she’d begun to punish him.
She wouldn’t put it past him to search her stuff.
He was crafty like that.
Crouching, she placed the phone in a plastic bag and sealed it tight.
And decided to hide it under a couple of rocks at the back of the cabin.
Taking a shaky breath she rose and took stock of her situation.
Her father was well and unharmed.
Tears of relief flooded her cheeks as the heavy burden of guilt lifted.
Quickly followed by the thought that he wouldn’t be unharmed by the time she’d finished with him.
Everyone had their tipping point and Coco knew she’d reached hers.
She sniffed and swiped at her eyes.
Take one step at a time, she told herself.
With the need for vengeance burning like acid in her heart, her belly, she tugged on her socks and boots.
Lifting her face to the sky she let out a heartfelt scream of pure and utter fury.
Thrusting her shoulders into her rucksack, she started down the dusty track and took a few deep steady breaths.
They’d taken her from her home, her life and the people who relied on her, who needed her.
Just who the hell did her father and Rafe think they were?
They’d known exactly what emotional buttons to press.
On one hand she had to admire the way they’d managed her.
It had been a thing of beauty.
Oh, yeah, they’d thought it all out. But they hadn’t thought it all the way through, had they?
Just how did they think were they going to survive her retribution?
First, she’d deal with Rafael.
Picking up the pace, Coco’s eyes narrowed as she rolled her tongue over her top teeth.
Oh yeah, come to mama you conniving, controlling, sneaky bastard.
Chapter Twenty Four
Janine’s ancient Ford shook, rattled and rolled its way over potholes on the driveway to The Grange.
She’d called Joshua Erichsen’s office to make an appointment to see him and been told he was packing up his mobile office at The Grange. The girl on the phone had been cool, her voice clipped, which had only wound the horrible knot of nerves in Janine’s stomach even tighter. After being married to Connor, these days confrontation of any kind always made her feel physically sick.
Boo was being looked after by a member of staff at Sweet Sensation. And she hoped this meeting wouldn’t take long because Bronte was unwell and attending a doctor’s appointment this morning.
As she turned into the gravelled parking area to her home she spotted a single car, a dust covered Land Rover Defender, and saw Josh leaning his shoulder against the door of the mobile office watching her. He was dressed in ancient jeans tucked into leather work boots and drinking from a mug. Since he was wearing Raybans she couldn’t see his eyes, but by the way his mouth went into a tight line he was still royally pissed off with her.
Great.
Heart drumming against her ribs, she got out and stood next to her car.
Josh slid his glasses down his nose. Vivid blue eyes peered at her over the top, and he didn’t move a muscle.
She swallowed.
He wasn’t going to make it easy for her.
Okay.
She could do this.
Ignoring the bats fluttering in her gut Janine stepped forward.
This time he removed his glasses, tucked them into the breast pocket of a cotton shirt the exact colour of his eyes.
And at the moment those eyes were like chips of solid ice.
She had to tip her head back to look up at him.
‘Can I come in?’
‘Sure.’
He turned his back on her and moved into the office, sat his bulk behind a small desk.
It was a basic workspace with a couple of desks, notice boards holding a plan of the house and grounds, computer, phone, coffee machine and mugs and a tiny sink with cupboards underneath. And it was immaculate.
Since she preferred to visit when no one was around she’d never been inside the office, and could see Josh liked everything in its place. The place was organised to within an inch of its life. Impressive.
He nudged his chin towards a black plastic chair.
‘Have a seat. What can I do for you?’
Placing her car keys, her cell phone on the desk between them, she sat and couldn’t help but rub sweaty palms over her jean-clad thighs.
‘I don’t want you to resign from the job. You’re the best, I’ve been told. And the house deserves the best.’
Watching her through narrowed eyes, he sipped his drink.
‘Want a coffee?’
She shook her head. ‘No. Thank you.’
‘Tea? Soda?’
She didn’t want a damn drink, but Janine recognised the offer of an olive branch when she saw one.
So she picked it up. ‘Water is fine, if you have it.’
She hated, hated, the way her voice wobbled.
He rose, and since he was a big man immediately the room shrunk and she had to force herself not to cringe as he walked past her. What was it about him that pressed every single emotion from terror to attraction? He opened a mini fridge, took out a small bottle of water, plucked a paper cup out of a tube on the wall and placed them on the table in front of her.
When he returned to his chair behind the desk, she couldn’t help but blow out a very long, very relieved breath.
While she tried to keep her hand steady as she twisted off the cap and poured water into the cup, she was aware of his unblinking eyes on her. And as more time passed without him speaking a single word, she was becoming more and more unnerved by the situation.
She hated being put on the spot like this.
It reminded her too much of how she used to feel every minute, every hour of every day of her marriage when Connor came home and subjected her to hours and hours of the silent treatment.
‘There are times when I’m really stupid. Why didn’t I see it? He did quite a number on you, darling. Didn’t he?’ Josh asked in a gentle voice.
As her eyes flew to his, her hand jerked spilling the water and she recognised the look of a man who’d just solved a problem. Her.
‘I’m sorry. I’ve spilled the water. I’m so sorry.’
Plucking paper towels from a wall dispenser, Josh calmly handed them to her to mop up the mess. And all the while her hands trembled and her heart drummed against her ribs.
‘It’s only water, Janine. Nobody died.’ Then his eyes narrowed as she flinched at his unfortunate choice of words. ‘Who hurt you? Was it your husband or someone else?’
She opened her mouth to say she’d no idea what he was talking about.
But the steady look in his eyes stopped her cold.
‘Husband,’ she whispered.
And then bit down so hard on her bottom lip she tasted blood.
‘Okay. Do other men make you nervous? Or is it just me?’
His eyes held hers.
No matter how hard she tried she couldn’t look away, all the time searching for the first sign of anger, for annoyance, for irritation.
What she found was understanding, sympathy and something that looked like regret.
‘Not all men.’
‘I realise that by how you are with Jacob and I also realise that who you see is none of my business. But I make you nervous, afraid?’
She nodded. ‘I’m sorry.’
He waved the apology aside and all the while his eyes never left hers.
‘He abused you?’
Again she nodded, then pressed back in her chair as he leaned forward, elbows on the desk.
‘Look at me.’ She met his eyes. ‘I have never in my life forced myself, raised my hand or my voice to a woman. Why do I frighten you?’
Heaving out a trembling breath, she shook her head and spoke the truth.
‘I don’t know. You look nothing like him. He was dark with black hair and black eyes.’ And a black soul. ‘But he was big and you’re big. I don’t know why you...’
Her voice tailed off as the blush that heated her face went radioactive and set fire to the tips of her ears.
Josh was beginning to have a good idea why he was making her feel uncomfortable.
However, now was not the time to explore their feelings.
The woman was badly damaged, and he wondered now why he hadn’t seen what had been staring him right in the face for months. He’d need to take a big step back from her. But at the same time he recognised an almost overwhelming need inside him to protect her, to look after her.
‘Have you talked to anyone about it? Therapists? Your GP?’
She cleared her throat as she shook her head.
‘Not yet.’
And by that brave little tilt of her chin she wasn’t happy he was interfering in her life.
Fair enough.
‘Are you sure you want me to work on the house?’
Now her eyes met his and for the first time he didn’t see fear, but a determined courage that hurt the heart.