There's Something About a Rebel- (8 page)

But the man clearly didn’t do emotion. Never had. And she’d never understood how he and Jared had got along so well. Back then she’d been too young to question it, but not too young to imagine herself offering him solace any way she knew how.

There was pain too, recent and raw in his shadowed eyes. And he was alone here with no support base. She couldn’t begin to understand how someone dealt with that. He could try and block her out but she was going to reach him eventually. No one should be an island.

Someone was playing the harmonica. Blake pressed the heels of his palms to his eyeballs as the familiar childhood sound drifted over
the pool’s still blue water and through the open window.

Tipped back as far as the recliner would go, he lay in the study’s darkness while a bevy of hammers battered away at the back of his skull. Darth Vader and Luke were fighting their alltime classic laser battle inside his eyeballs. The nausea was still at the high-tide mark.

Had Lissa gone partying? Probably, after that scene against the wall. He’d had to get rid of her—it was that or lose his pride. Throwing up at a woman’s feet was never going to be a good look.

The tune switched to a country and western ballad he remembered playing as a kid. It had been an old distraction. He’d taught himself to play harmonica while he waited alone for his mother to come back from one of her endless meetings. A foster home would have offered more. Lissa’s mention of her tonight had brought the memories back and reminded him why he didn’t allow emotion to clutter his life.

His father had been no better at the parenting game. Predictably he’d tired of the marriage and lived a separate life under this very roof. But by some miracle they’d conceived Blake. What a joke.

He’d learned early on not to depend on others for emotional or any other kind of support. Janine had reinforced that learning in his late teens.
Love equals vulnerability.

Women looking for more than the casual date soon discovered he wasn’t that kind of guy. As long as they were on the same wavelength he was happy to indulge whatever games they wanted to play, but the moment he got a glimpse of those stars in their eyes he was off.

And now there was Lissa.

Too young, too inexperienced, too-delicate Lissa. He hadn’t missed the flicker of real fear in her eyes when he’d backed her up against the wall just now and guilt sat uncomfortably alongside the roiling in his gut.

Definitely off-limits to guys like him.

The strip of golden sand was strewn with shells, driftwood and dead palm leaves where the rainforest met the sea. The heavy pounding at the back of his skull was gunfire and the sound of his boots on the hard-packed sand.

Blake looked over his shoulder.

Torque crouched on the sand, frozen.

Blake dodging bullets. Dragging him across the beach. Torque’s cry as he fell, knocking him off balance. Rocks coming up to meet him as he fell.

‘Blake. Blake, wake up.’

He jerked awake like a panic-stricken diver out of oxygen. Lissa’s voice, her tone calm but firm and instantly grounding. A wave of relief flooded over him as his eyes blinked open.
Ghostly light from the muted TV screen lit the living room.

He was on the couch and she was perched on the arm rest, watching him with concern in those pretty eyes. He remembered coming out here, unable to find sleep in the study.

Relief quickly turned to a storm of humiliation and he started to lift his head, which felt like a ripe watermelon.
How long had she been watching him?

‘You okay?’

Her cool light fingers on his brow both soothed and embarrassed. A bloody rerun of last night.

He pushed her arm away. ‘Yeah.’ His mouth was dust dry. He didn’t know if it was the result of being caught napping or the sight of her in nothing but that wispy white nightdress. In the TV’s soft glow he could see the outline of her nipples against the sheer fabric.

He closed his eyes and imagined diving back into the cool, dark ocean.

‘Are you still in pain?’

His eyes blinked open again. She was looking at his pack of prescription painkillers on the coffee table.

‘No.’
Not the kind of pain you’re referring to.
‘I’m fine.’

‘You didn’t sound fine.’

He swore silently to himself. Had he called out? Made an idiot of himself? Ignoring the
vague residual dizziness, he pushed up, set his feet on the floor and said, ‘How was the party? I didn’t hear you come in.’ He hadn’t realised how he felt about her enjoying herself until he heard the sarcastic edge to his voice.

‘If you didn’t go, you’ll never know.’ She passed him a tumbler of water. ‘Seems like you need this more than I do.’

He gulped half of it down, returned the glass to her. ‘Thanks.’

Obviously in no hurry to go upstairs, she curled her feet beneath her and sipped at the water. ‘Something horrible happened to bring you back to Oz after all this time. I’ve been wondering what.’

Right now he wondered the same thing about his choice of location to recuperate. He could have gone to Acapulco or Hawaii. Found some warm and willing local girl to recuperate with. But for some reason he’d yet to fathom, because it certainly wasn’t for the love of family, he’d decided to return to Australia.

Bad things happened but he didn’t want to talk about it. Not with the party girl who saw the world through a rainbow prism. What the hell would she know about real life? How could she ever understand what he did or why he did it? Nor did he want her to know. God knew, he wanted to protect her from all that.

And yet … he’d never had someone like Lissa interested enough in his life to ask. Maybe because
he’d never been around a woman long enough. A strange warm sensation settled somewhere in the region of his heart.

‘I’m not going to pretend I didn’t hear you in your sleep. Post-traumatic stress isn’t something to be ashamed of. Perhaps I could help,’ she finished softly.

‘Post-traumatic stress?’
A rough laugh rasped up his throat. ‘You don’t know what the
hell
you’re talking about. I get the occasional migraine, so what?’ He pushed off the couch and headed for the stairs.

‘Maybe you should let others do some looking out for you for a change,’ she said behind him.

He reached the first step, didn’t stop. ‘With you around why would I need to?’

CHAPTER EIGHT

L
ISSA
barely paused to breathe in the front garden’s tropical scents as she stepped outside. The warm Mooloolaba morning wrapped around her but she barely noticed. A gazillion thoughts were running through her mind—
not
Blake and that kiss that had turned her inside out last night.

Although she did spare more than a passing thought for his nightmares. His haunted groans in the dark of night had chilled her to the bone. But unless and until he was willing to talk, what could she do? She shook her head. And he’d called her stubborn?

So for now Blake’s living room was top priority. The living room was her
focus.
She had furniture and soft furnishings to select and order, paint to choose.

But she glanced down at the unfamiliar sharp staccato on the paved garden path and slowed to admire her sassy red sling-backs. Nice. They brought a smile to her lips. She’d not bought a thing for over three months. Even if they were
only bargain basement, they were shiny and brand spanking new.

‘Lissa.’

She heard her name spoken in that deep sexy drawl and saw Blake coming through the front gate. No sign of last night’s terrors in those azure eyes. As he jogged across the lawn towards her every other thought flew out of her mind.

She came to a halt, her pulse doing a blip at the blinding sight of all that exposed bronzed skin. His upper arms gleamed with sweat, his navy blue vest-top was dark and damp. Short shorts revealed tanned, toned muscular thighs peppered with dark masculine hair.

Last night he’d pressed those thighs against hers.

She forgot she was on a mission. Forgot she had no time to waste, no time to linger over mere distractions. Even if the distraction was Blake Everett, with his musky scent wafting towards her. He looked like some sort of divine being sent from above. She blew out a heartfelt breath. Her shoes weren’t the only things worth a second look around here.

‘Wait up, I’m coming with you.’ He was watching her as he approached and she knew by the way his eyes suddenly darkened that he was thinking about last night too.
You ‘re not ready for what I’d like to do to you.

Until he’d walked off.

Dragging her gaze away, she lifted her chin.
His loss. ‘No time,’ she told him. She didn’t want him with her, reminding her of whatever shared delights he’d decided she wasn’t ready for and taking her mind off what she needed to buy. She keyed the remote to raise the roller door, then unlocked her car and tossed her bag on the front passenger seat.

‘Are you sure that’s all?’ He studied her far too astutely while he lifted a bottle of water to his lips.

‘What else would it—?’

‘Blake?’

Lissa turned at the interruption to see Gilda from next door slipping through the front gate.

‘Blake?’ she called again. ‘It
is
you!’

‘Gilda Matilda!’ His face broke into a broad relaxed smile, something he hadn’t bestowed on Lissa, she noted with a curious feeling in the pit of her stomach as he changed direction and jogged towards the woman.

Flawlessly made-up, their neighbour wore a stunning white sundress that no doubt came from some exclusive European collection. Lissa, in her new off-the-rack red skirt and cream jacket, instantly felt outclassed.

Blake leaned down, dropped a kiss on her cheek. ‘You’re still living here, I see.’

‘Yes. And about time you came home, you long-lost sailor, you.’ The dark-haired woman returned the kiss and gave him a heartfelt hug, the clutch of rings on the third finger of her
left hand sparkling in the light. She turned and smiled Lissa’s way. ‘Hello, Lissa. How are you? I didn’t realise you two knew each other.’

‘Hi, Gilda. Yes, we knew each other in Surfers. It was a long time ago.’ She glanced at Blake and saw something flicker in his gaze before he turned his attention back to their neighbour.

Lissa wandered towards them. She wanted to watch their interaction and see if it was just herself he didn’t let in on his life’s details.

Gilda beamed up at him. ‘Well, what extraordinary activities have you been up to all this time?’

‘I can see what
you’ve
been up to.’

Neatly diverting attention away from himself. Again.

His gaze dropped to the woman’s gently rounded belly. ‘Congratulations. Or have you popped out a couple of others since I last saw you?’

She laughed, breathless and happy. ‘No. This is our first.’ Her gaze softened and turned inwards and her voice grew almost reverent. ‘It’s a miracle. Fifteen years of trying and now I’m six months along. I still can’t believe it.’

‘You’ve waited a long time, Gil. Enjoy it.’

‘Oh, I am. Every minute.’ Her smile flashed wider. ‘I’m in the throes of preparing the nursery. It’s a girl and I can’t decide whether to go with traditional pink or something completely unexpected. Whatever we decide, it’s got to be
something spectacular. But I guess you men are all the same.’ She flapped a hand and smiled knowingly at Lissa. ‘Put off by women’s talk of nurseries.’

‘Maybe your neighbour can help you out.’

‘Oh?’

‘Lissa’s an interior designer and, believe me, you’ll want to see her ideas.’ He cast a conspiratorial smile Lissa’s way. ‘She’s working on my living room at present, but I’m sure she’ll find time to fit you into her schedule.’

‘Really?’ Gilda’s eyes lit up. ‘I had no idea, Lissa. What a timely surprise. And I’d love your input.’

Lissa’s spirits soared and she cast Blake a grateful glance. What better opportunity would come her way than the chance to impress this wealthy suburban socialite with her expertise?

‘I’d be happy to give you some options to consider, Gilda. Would this afternoon be a convenient time for me to look at the room?’

‘Oh, that’d be wonderful. Shall we say 2:00 p.m.?’

‘That’ll be fine. I’ll see you then.’

Gilda paused, her eyes darting between both of them as if deciding whether they were an item or not. ‘Are you two doing anything tomorrow evening? I’m having a little party and I’d love it if you could both come.’

‘We’d be delighted,’ Blake answered for both of them.

‘Can we bring something?’ Lissa offered and immediately wished she’d kept her naive mouth shut. Gilda didn’t do anything so simple as pot-luck dinners.

‘Just your wallets,’ she said with a grin. ‘It’s a fundraiser for childhood cancer awareness, so it’s gold tie or gold ribbon for you, Blake, and a gold dress, Lissa.’

Oh. Not even a semi-formal occasion then, but one of her famous extravaganzas. Obviously Gilda assumed everyone had a gold gown hanging in the closet. Her society friends probably did. Lissa wanted to go. It was an exciting, timely opportunity, but who’d give her a second glance in her chain store’s little black dress?

But Blake … he wasn’t a party kind of guy. She could see it in his stance, in the set of his jaw. He’d accepted because he knew it was a chance for her to make some contacts.

‘About tomorrow night …’ she began as they waved Gilda goodbye and walked towards the car. ‘I—’

‘I suspect this type of party’s not exactly your thing but—’

‘That’s
not
what I was going to say.’ At the car door, she swung round to look at him. ‘If you’d rather not attend, I can go alone.’

He stared her down. ‘Not a chance.’ His fingers curved over the door frame as he held it open for her. ‘Now hop in. You’ve got shopping to do.’

She wanted to thank him but she knew now that it would make him uncomfortable.

‘Why couldn’t it be a simple black tie dinner?’ she moaned, climbing in. ‘I don’t have a suitable dress and I’m so busy today.’ She slid the key into the ignition. ‘I have an appointment to look at office furniture …’ she glanced at her watch ‘… in half an hour.’

‘Not much point looking at outfitting the shop if you don’t have clients. You’ve got two days. Plenty of time to look at dresses.’

‘What about your room? That’s a priority.’

‘You can do both. I’ve every confidence in you.’

‘Gold, for heaven’s sake.’ She turned the key and the old engine, badly in need of a service, coughed into life. ‘Where will I find a gold dress?’ More to the point, where would she find one that didn’t cost an arm and a leg?

‘You’re a woman, you’ll find one. Use the new account. We’ll claim it as a business expense.’

‘We can do that?’

He shook his head. ‘Let me handle the finances for now, Lissa. And see if you can find me a gold tie while you’re at it,’ he said. And swung the door shut.

Lissa pulled into the drive at two minutes to two. Leaving her supplies in the car, she rushed inside. Blake was nowhere to be seen so she
grabbed her portfolio, then hurried next door to Gilda’s impressive home.

‘Hello again, Lissa, it’s good of you to come.’ Gilda held the door wide. ‘I’m so looking forward to hearing your ideas.’

Lissa smiled all the way down to her toes. ‘I’m happy to help out.’

Gilda ushered Lissa through to the spacious living area overlooking the pool. Every surface from the polished furniture to the marble floors and gold fittings gleamed. Urns of flowers filled the air with fresh fragrance. A cleaning service was in full swing on the patio.

‘Preparations for tomorrow night,’ Gilda explained, indicating a seat on a silk upholstered couch.

‘I’m surprised you have the time, being pregnant and all.’ Then again, having a cleaning service no doubt helped.

She set her portfolio carefully on the marble topped coffee table and said, ‘Before we get started, I’d like to do my bit and donate a portion of my services for the nursery makeover towards your cause tomorrow night.’

A pot of steaming aromatic coffee and a jug of orange juice sat on a tray on the sideboard along with a plate of Kourabiedes, Greek shortbread biscuits that Lissa loved. Gilda picked it up and set it down in front of them. ‘That’s a thoughtful gesture, Lissa, are you sure?’

‘Of course.’ She knew without asking that
Blake would be the kind of man who’d wholeheartedly approve.

‘Thank you so much, you’re very generous.’ Gilda lifted the pot. ‘Coffee?’

‘Yes, please.’

‘It’s lovely to see Blake back home again after all this time.’ Her voice softened at the mention of his name.

‘You two seem close.’ Lissa took the proffered cup, hoping to hide the colour she could feel in her cheeks. She shouldn’t have asked. It was none of her business. She was here in a professional capacity.

‘Yes. We are.’ Gilda watched Lissa with a woman’s understanding in her eyes while she poured herself a glass of juice. ‘You probably don’t know, because he’s not the kind of man to tell, but he saved my life.’

‘Really?’ Lissa’s cup stopped halfway to her lips. ‘What happened?’

‘Blake was living on the houseboat at the time. I slipped on the pool surround, broke my leg and fell in. It was the housekeeper’s day off. If he hadn’t heard my calls and come to my rescue I’d have drowned.’

‘Oh, my goodness. You were lucky.’

‘Indeed I was. It could have stopped there, but no. He helped me through the two months when I was housebound on crutches. The housekeeper came in daily, of course, and I had a nurse for a while, but Blake provided the company.

‘We were both keen chess players and loved adventure movies so that passed time, but, more than that, we were both lonely. Stefan was away on business for weeks at a time and Blake’s father.’ She waved him off. ‘And his mother was too busy to notice.’

Gilda’s mouth pursed as if she’d bitten into a sour pomegranate. ‘As much as I respected Rochelle’s charitable work, I couldn’t come to grips with how she neglected her only child.’ She shook her head, setting her earrings jangling. ‘There was Rochelle with a son she’d never taken the time to get to know, and I’d have given anything for a baby yet I couldn’t get pregnant.’

Blake had been a neglected child? No wonder he’d closed up when she’d praised his mother’s tireless charity work. Yet he’d never said a bad word about her.

And here was Lissa with a brother who’d given up his teenage years for her to make a loving home, to keep her safe. Blake hadn’t had that security, nor obviously had he known the feeling of being loved as he grew up.

‘So there we were,’ Gilda continued. ‘A bit of an odd pair to the rest of the world. But there was honesty and I like to think there was a trust between us despite the difference in our ages. Stefan thinks the world of him.’

Lissa felt an odd twinge around her heart. It seemed he wasn’t an island. He confided in someone after all. Just not Lissa. And why
would he? she asked herself. The last time she’d seen him she’d been thirteen.

And when it came right down to it, what would be the point? He was leaving.

‘Then he joined the navy.’

Gilda’s words had Lissa’s thoughts spinning in another direction. ‘Was that a sudden decision?’

‘He spoke of it often enough, but in the end, yes, it was.’

Janine.

Gilda eyed Lissa over her glass and both knew what wasn’t being said. ‘You can be sure if he’d made a mistake he’d have stayed to fix it.’

Lissa looked down at her cup. Maybe he had stayed. A couple of days, a quick private trip to a clinic, problem solved. But even as the thought came to her, she knew it couldn’t be true. She’d learned more about Blake in the past couple of days than she’d ever known. It wasn’t in his nature to run away from his problems.

She could feel the other woman’s gaze and set her eggshell-fragile gold-rimmed cup on its saucer with the faintest tremor. ‘Of course he would have.’

She wasn’t here for a history lesson and she wasn’t going to talk to Gilda about her own relationship with Blake. That would be unprofessional.

She reached for her portfolio. ‘Why don’t you
have a look through this? Then you can show me the nursery and we can start things happening.’

When Blake arrived home early evening, he found Lissa cross-legged on the floor in the living room surrounded by a maze of sketches, designs and scribbled notes.

She looked up as he approached, taking in his sand-covered legs. ‘Hi. You’ve been to the beach, I see.’

‘Thought I’d test the surf—wind’s up today and there was a good swell.’ He sat down opposite her, against the wall, plonked his damp towel and two boxes on the floor. Now he’d made up his mind Lissa was off-limits, he concentrated on thinking of her as a friend. A business partner. Easier said than done when her perfume filled his nostrils and his eyes couldn’t seem to focus on anything but her tanned knees. ‘How did it go with Gilda?’

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