Shadows Of The Past
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Brent ran his fingers through his sun-streaked brown hair, a habit that always made him look as if he’d just got out of bed, a woman’s bed, which was usually right. So Brent had no need to point a finger in his direction. “I’m surprised you can even find the energy to contemplate a relationship.”
“Okay, so you were half-right. I’m not talking relationship, just a holiday fling.” He hadn’t spent the last year working his butt off to blow it all now. If the project he and Brent were working on paid off, it would mean a partnership for him and a leg up in the company for Brent.
He caught a sigh building and pulled out before he could give breath to it. It was something he’d been aiming for since he was little more than a kid, to own part of something worthwhile. And as the son of a cop gone wrong there was no place to go but up. They hadn’t been much of a family for a lot of years, but he was determined not to let his sister or himself down.
There were many ways of making money in the electronics industry, secrets to sell to the highest bidder, but that was the route his father had taken by dealing in drugs. Been forced to take, to Franc’s mind because of all the mouths he’d had to feed on a cop’s salary, and if he’d learned a lesson from his father’s suicide, it was he travels farthest who travels alone.
Franc looked straight into the laughing derision in Brent’s eyes. “What if I said I need this?”
“Tell me what you want me to do? Though I warn you, the last time I saw Randy, the only thought in his head seemed to be the quickest way to get Kathy out of her bra.”
“How about you whisper a warning in his ear about the big guy downstairs looking for Kathy that could be her husband then show him the back way out through the kitchen?”
“So all’s fair in love and war?”
“I don’t think Randy’s much of a fighter, and you know me.” He shrugged his shoulders slightly, smiling as if he was about to tell a lie and wanted to lose the feeling. “I never fall in love.”
“Just remember you owe me big-time for this one.”
“Anything,” he conceded. And before Brent could make any demands, he was on his way back to Maria as if his life depended on it. Which should have made him take pause. In all his adult life he’d never depended on anyone but himself. He knew better.
Everyone he’d ever loved had up and died on him.
A huge shadow slid across the table blocking off the light. Maria’s heart bruised itself against her breastbone. She didn’t look up. Instead, she breathed deeply, sucked up her courage and sat higher in her chair, trying hard to ignore the cold pulse beating in her temple as loud as hail on a tin roof.
Of all the foolhardy ideas in her life, tonight’s had to be the worst. This was going to be harder than she’d first imagined.
Her hands shook as she lifted her gaze.
Franc slid into the seat opposite. His hands were full of wineglasses and snacks, the fingers of one cupping two glasses while he slid a plate of finger food onto the table.
“Thought you might be hungry.” His mouth looked grim. “I hate to be the bearer of bad tidings, but it looks like Randy went on someplace else. Could he have gone over to your house?”
God, she hoped not!
Thoughts of Randy peeking in her window were the last thing she wanted. Now they’d entered her mind, would they ever go away?
“No, not my place.”
For a heart-plummeting moment disappointment took her far away from the restaurant to a dark place inside her mind. When she’d calculated the risks of gate-crashing the party, Randy leaving early hadn’t featured as a worst-case scenario. How would she get through the holidays with this dread hanging over her?
“Have a fresh glass of wine. These are nicely chilled.” He pushed one over to her, and then picked up a lobster patty. “Delicious. You should try one.”
This was awkward. She was here under false pretenses, how could she accept his hospitality. “I really should go. You must have better things to do than sit here with me.”
“None that would please me more than sitting opposite a beautiful woman. I’m only human. Tell me about yourself. Do you work locally?”
“In the city, at Tech-Re-Search.”
“I know the company, we have dealings with them. Is that how you met Randy?”
“Yes.” How else had he latched onto her? Known her comings and goings?
“So you work in the city in a research library and your name is Costello. Were you born in New Zealand?”
“Of course.”
His eyes flicked over her hair and face as he lifted the patty to his mouth and bit down. His teeth were white and even, and his face crinkled with laughter as his tongue captured a portion that broke off. He had an earthy confidence that exuded sexuality. Something reminded Maria of her long-ago visit to Italy, the way the men relished their food, wine and women.
“My roots in Enzed probably go back as far as yours.”
His eyes glittered. “You wanna bet on it?” She shook her head. “I guess I could raise you at least a generation, maybe two on one side, if there was anyone I could ask, but my family isn’t close-knit and the future interests me more than the past.”
“Why is how many generations your family has been in New Zealand so important anyway, like we had some sort of Mayflower society?”
“It’s a young country, how long ago your family arrived here is a sort of status thing.”
She rolled her eyes at him even though she knew he was correct. “Well, my parents weren’t born here, and probably because of that, in my family everyone likes to know what the others are up to.”
Except this latest venture of hers. Wasn’t a daughter obliged not to worry her parents? Maybe this was fate’s way of telling her to back off. For now at least.
A stray drop of wine coated her lips as she chased it with her tongue. She raised her eyes and caught Franc’s gaze.
“And what have you been up to, Maria?”
The question brought her back to the present with a start. What had she done to deserve Randy Searle stalking her? She’d only managed to catch a glimpse of him those few times, but she’d felt him. Felt his eyes on her and it gave her the creeps. It was as if her life wasn’t her own anymore. Not that it had been anyone’s idea of exciting. Her life had reached a plateau early on, what with studying for her degree by correspondence until she started work in Auckland three years ago, she’d only ever left home to take her exams at Massey University.
And if there had been little upswing in her social life since then it had been down to her own fastidiousness rather than a lack of opportunity. The friends she shared a house with were just the opposite. God, how she wanted to be like them, to be ordinary, to flirt, have on-and-off relationships.
The only bump in the even tenor of her life was being told she’d been abducted when she couldn’t remember a thing about it. Post-traumatic stress amnesia, it had taken Randy Searle to flip her back out of her staid orbit.
She focused her attention on Franc. The flickering candle reflected in his eyes. “I expect since I had to think it over, you’ve gathered I haven’t been up to anything exciting.”
Franc leaned forward. “Well, I find you very exciting. Maybe it’s the dress you’re wearing. As if you’re two different people.”
The candle appeared to flare as he spoke, and her heart quickened when she realized the flame that leapt was confined to his eyes, and like the flash of light, she was out of place and way out of her depth. “Thank you, I think?”
“You got it right, it was a compliment, though I obviously made a hash of it since you didn’t recognize it as one.” His voice was low, husky, as if she really was the woman the dress had been designed for. As if with the fading of the light everything had changed and in the dark anything was possible.
“Then, I really do thank you.” Had that sexy purr come from her throat? Or was it the sophisticate she pretended to be? As soon as she’d seen the dress she’d known it was meant for her by the sheer ambiguity of the style. Full of half truths like her, it was perfect for a woman who didn’t want to show her scars to the world. Especially the emotional ones.
Franc stood. He towered over her but there was no menace in him, simply the means to make her forget why she’d come here. “What if I said I’d rather have a dance than your thanks?”
She slid her fingers into his, her heart racing as she abandoned all thought of her previous goal. “I’d say, perhaps even two dances.”
He pulled her to her feet. Even in heels her eyes only came level with his chin, perfect for watching his throat move as he swallowed hard. “Why don’t we make that all? The rest of tonight’s dances are mine.”
His breath feathered across her eyelids. Made them flutter. Made them heavy, so heavy she wanted to close them and rest her head on his shoulder. The music grew louder as if it played in her head instead of at the other end of the passage.
Could this be her Cinderella night? What had she to lose but a slipper?
Chapter 2
“I’ve had a wonderful evening.” Maria’s whisper reached Franc from somewhere below the level of his chin.
Soon it would be midnight. The lights were low, the music soft, and Maria was exactly where he’d wanted her from the first moment he’d observed her entering—in his arms, her body a mere heartbeat from his. Every few seconds her breasts brushed his chest, and on the turns his leg slid between hers. It was torture of the worst kind. And he never wanted it to end. “The evening’s not over yet.”
“But it will be, like all good things. That’s life.” Her voice sounded regretful, as if she didn’t want to be wakened from the dreamlike state they were dancing in.
“I don’t want to know that. I want to stay in the here and now and forget about tomorrow. This is a night for stolen kisses.” He trailed one down her temple. “Soft touches.” His fingers shivered down the skin covering her spine. “And secrets, lots of secrets.”
“I already know your secrets.”
“You what?” His head reared back, breaking the moment. Had Randy been running off at the mouth?
How the hell had Randy found out that practically before his dad’s body had gone cold, his father’s best friend and partner against crime in the New Zealand police had outed Milo Jellic as being a drug dealer.
As if Milo’s suicide hadn’t been bad enough.
“I’m sorry.” She hid her eyes from him, but the way her white teeth pressed down on her lip was telling.
One look wiped his annoyance aside. “I hope Randy left me some secrets to share.” His gaze dipped to the lip her teeth had left bee-stung. He’d taste that for himself before the night was over.
As Franc’s face cleared, Maria’s roiling stomach settled down. She hadn’t ruined her night.
“It’s nothing personal, just the new project.” She galloped on, afraid to stop as his eyebrows met in a line. Perhaps personal would have been better? “I work on your project at Tech-Re-Search. It sounds so exciting to make a thread that carries…? Darn. I guess I shouldn’t discuss it here.”
Heavens, she’d just caught herself before she apologized again. Nothing was worse than sounding whiny.
“It’s fascinating, but I’m not allowed to mention it at work…we have this Chinese wall deal…you know, no one can discuss the projects they are working on. But I think it’s great that you guys are ahead of the game…” Was he never going to butt in and save her?
“So it’s you who make sure we don’t infringe on someone’s copyright or spend a million dollars inventing something that’s already out on the market. Somehow I had the impression that you’d met Randy through working on reception at Tech-Re-Search.”
“No, I was called to reception since he wanted to hand over the envelope of data personally.” She felt Franc’s hand tighten round hers.
“Understandable. We don’t just want anyone getting their hands on our data. That’s why I was surprised you knew about our project.” He hesitated then asked, “You don’t discuss our research with Randy?”
Maria shook her head. So far, her only contact with Randy had been that day when he’d said he’d driven into the city specially to deliver the data to her at the research library. Heaven only knows what she’d done to spark off his need to stalk her.
“Good. This project is my baby, my idea. The research you’re doing has saved us a lot of time but you understand, with its military applications, secrecy is vital.” He huffed out a breath. “But of course you do. The only reason Tech-Re-Search got the contract was because of its security clearance.”
“I hope your project succeeds.” From the light in his eyes, and the determined thrust of his chin, she couldn’t imagine him failing.
“You were right. This isn’t the place to discuss it. One day, you can come see what we’ve done for yourself.”
“I’d like that.” Suddenly her mind was grasping at straws. Hoping her fairy tale wouldn’t end with the ball. She had no illusions about forever, but even a little while would be nice.
Better than nice. Wonderful.
She allowed herself to hope.
Tomorrow, she’d start a new chapter in her personal journal.
Franc pushed out a long whisper of air. Spaced each breath, to slow his heart rate. He wanted her to himself away from the crowded dance floor. “Let’s go out to the courtyard and dance in the dark. The stars are out. Do you know where to find the Southern Cross?” Next moment he heard Brent announce, “Last dance, folks, make the most of it.”
“I should have thought of it earlier.” Disappointment rocked him with intensity as he anticipated her departure. But he’d no time for soul-searching as nearly everyone squeezed onto the floor and space was at a premium.
The lights went out.
With Maria in his arms he stayed in the middle of the crowd, swaying slowly, feet barely moving. The slippery texture of her dress flowed like water under his palm. He let them drift lower until they slipped round the soft swell of her buttocks. He wanted to shape her curves with his hands, to pull her closer and rock her in the cradle of his hips.
He consoled himself with drinking in her perfume, brushing his cheek against the tiny whispers of curls escaping round her hairline. He had an ache in his groin hard enough to make a grown man cry. His teeth clamped down on a groan as her palms flattened against his chest and her head rested on them. Close, but not close enough.
He hoped the dance would never end. They circled one tiny spot on the floor in what felt like a dream, and in the dark no one existed but the two of them. His hard flesh throbbed and flexed unbearably against her hip. He wanted more than this tease. He wanted to be inside her, thrusting deep and fast till they both screamed their release.
His moan dampened her skin where the curve of her neck met jaw. Damn, I’m thirty-four, too old for this, too old to be worrying about Maria knowing I want her. The hell with it! His palms shivered over the silky fabric and curved round her slender shape, drawing her tight against his aching need just as the music stopped.
The song finished, ending the dance, ending the closeness. Maria didn’t move, couldn’t move. A fire blazed inside her, leaping the barrier of clothing to meld her to him. Could he feel her shake? If he moved would she fall? She hid behind closed eyes. It didn’t mask the sound of people wishing each other Happy Christmas or good-night. Franc’s lips skimmed her forehead as his hands loosened their grip, leaving her bereft.
“Merry Christmas, Maria,” he whispered.
It was over. Time to go home.
The gruff timbre of his voice echoed in her tremors. Tilting her chin with one large hand, he sought an answer in her eyes. The pad of his thumb stroked her bottom lip and released a sigh. In that instant she changed her mind about the color of his eyes. Not bitter chocolate, bittersweet. Like the moment binding them. She wanted to remember this. She would remember this. Always.
The last time she expected she would see him. Tears blurred her vision. His face floated above hers like a mirage, until his mouth slanted and he took hers, blinding her with his nearness, his kiss, until only touch and sensation remained.
God! She tasted sweet; Franc had known she would. Her lips parted on a sigh and his tongue swept past them for a taste of the honey he knew lay within. Almost tentatively her tongue touched his and he felt her hands tremble and flutter like butterflies across his chest. It was more erotic than if she’d answered his passion with one of equal demand.
“Stay with me tonight. My apartment’s just next door.” The words grated from his throat as emotion took over. For one second he wished he hadn’t said them. But only one.
As the lights came on she pulled away, her eyes huge, more violet than brown. They flicked from side to side, grounding her in the present. The party was over.
“No!”
Franc hesitated in mid-farewell-wave to a departing group. What did she mean, no? She couldn’t mean it. Did she think he didn’t know she wanted him as much as he wanted her?
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said quietly.
Maria backed away, breaking the contact, taking her heat. Franc shivered. “Why?”
“We’ve had this evening. Why spoil it?”
“We could have tonight and no one would be spoiled but you. Let me spoil you.”
His breath stirred long tendrils of her hair against her cheeks. She pushed them behind her ear, remembering how they’d gotten that way. Franc’s fingers forking through her hair as he held her head still. “I need to call a cab.”
She needed to get out of here before she did something stupid.
“I don’t mind driving you home.”
“No. I insist. It’s better this way. Let me take a cab.”
“All right. Tell me where you want to go and I’ll call one.”
Maria turned in her seat and watched out the back window of the cab, and without resorting to her glasses, she saw his tall figure soon blend into the shadows.
Franc Jellic was almost irresistible. And that six-letter word, almost, was her saving grace. She’d never met a man like him. Never been tempted until now, though she had been curious about her sexuality.
For a moment the answer to the puzzle had been within her grasp, until she banged into a wall of reality and the image of what might have been shattered as she hit. To bare her body, her scars would mean explanations. Explanations she couldn’t give him. Explanations that wouldn’t help her find the way out of the maze left by her abduction.
A sigh racked her body. She hugged herself to stop the tremors and tried to look on the bright side.
One thing for sure, she’d learned a lesson tonight. Learned how easily one could become trapped, brought to one’s knees by a glance, both tender and wild at once. A glance that promised to teach all she wanted to know as it sent her body into meltdown and her heart into overdrive.
Yes, curiosity was all it would take. His kiss…how would it feel in the secret places where her body had throbbed as they danced? Would it ease the ache or sharpen the pain?
Christmas Eve had arrived with a bang. Heat sizzled in puddles of tar on the road and sunburned leaf tips spangled trees meant for the northern hemisphere with bronze. The only cloud in the sky was the leaden one hovering over Maria’s head advertising her failure.
She mulled over her problems as she stood at the top of the driveway, waving to Tess and Linda, who she shared the villa with. “Bye, have a happy Christmas and a lovely holiday,” she called, her thoughts nothing to do with the joys of the season. Soon she, too, would be hitting the road back to the bosom of her family.
Bosom being the appropriate word. There would be hugs all round. Papa and Mamma squeezed so tight, sometimes she could hardly breathe. It was their way of showing they loved her.
The word suffocating reared its head. Flushing, she pushed the thoughts away. Of course they were protective of her. They still tended to see her as the teenager who’d been abducted.
It was a weird situation. She couldn’t remember anything. Yet it was impossible to forget the incident. Her family’s concern kept it in the forefront of her mind.
Yes, incident was a better word.
It was real, yet unreal. A story told from someone else’s point of view. Lately, she’d begun to waken in the dead of night in a panic from nightmares. It dated from the moment she realized someone was shadowing her footsteps.
A faint ping sounded at the back of her mind like the first warning note of an alarm. The impression sent her spinning round to scan the front garden and faded just as quickly when she saw the old man next door raking the pebbles on his driveway. Being unable to carry through last night’s plans had left her jumpy, knowing Randy Searle was still on the loose, didn’t realize she was on to him or that she knew his name.
Alone in the house, she cleared the festive lunch table where they’d exchanged gifts. The other girls had protested, but saw her logic, conceding her journey home was less lengthy than the ones facing them.
She pushed her glasses up on her nose, her spare pair. On her way home this afternoon she’d stop by the restaurant to see if her others had been found where she’d placed them on the table. But before she left, since she had plenty of time, she’d walk around to the shop next to Northcote Point cinema and buy her mother a box of the handmade chocolates she loved.
As she washed up, flashes of memory from the night before filled her thoughts. Could any woman ever forget her first real taste of romance?
The trick would be to make sure no memories of Randy Searle were allowed to taint it. Thank heavens she’d made time to write it all down in her journal before sleep overtook her.
Franc wrote his signature on the check with a flourish. Stanhope’s annual Christmas party didn’t come cheaply, but it was worth it for the goodwill and camaraderie it engendered in the staff. He passed the check over the tall, narrow desk to the manager. “How much of this covers breakages?”
Paul Start, the manager of The Point restaurant, grinned. “You got off lightly, no more than two or three glasses.” Always one for an eye to business, Paul winked. “Come back next year. You’re the kind of customer we like.”
Just as astute, Franc took his receipt, glanced at the figures again and said, “Next time, I’ll ask for a discount.”
Paul’s eyes narrowed, calculated. “Do that. Next time, you might get one. But for now, how about having lunch? On the house.”
“Thanks, I will.”
He should have known that eating lunch in almost the exact spot he’d held Maria in his arms wouldn’t aid his digestion.
He looked up at the entrance and relived his reactions of the night before when he’d watched her walk through it.
He’d likened her to a goddess, and when his ardor had carried him away, she’d spurned him. Didn’t mean he was going to give up or take his rejection as absolute.
There had to be a way.
No sooner thought than found.
Paul slid into the seat opposite. “I forgot to hand over these.” He twisted fragile-looking rimless glasses in his fingers so they caught the light. “One of the cleaners found them at the table by the potted palm.”
Franc recalled how her pupils had been huge as they turned the lights on at the end of the dance. Could the look that had enchanted him been slightly myopic?
Taking the glasses from Paul, he slid them into the pocket of his thin chambray shirt. “Thanks, Paul. I’m sure I know who these belong to.”
Mind made up, he tossed his napkin onto his plate and pushed his chair away from the table. “Her place is on my way, so I’ll drop them off.” He’d written the address down when he’d called her cab, though he’d been sure it was one he wouldn’t forget.
“Good idea. I couldn’t see a thing through them, so she’s probably lost without them.” Paul stood up, saying conversationally, “So where are you off to this afternoon?”