The Negotiator (21 page)

“Whereabouts is your place in Bondi, Andy?” Cally asked after a few moments of companionable silence.

Andy tensed and then forced himself to relax. The more he got to know her, the surer he was that she’d never be swayed by money. She didn’t seem to have a clue about his wealth, despite the one hundred and fifty thousand dollar Audi he’d parked in her driveway. Then again, she might not know what it was worth.

He should just come right out and tell her, but he didn’t want to complicate things. She was only just beginning to trust him, to open her heart to him. It was obvious she was interested in him, despite the boundaries she’d initially put in place. She’d kissed him with as much passion as he kissed her. If Jack hadn’t been in the next room… Who knew where that kiss might have led?

Did he want to risk her fledgling feelings by talking about something as crass as money?
He knew how important it was to her. It was the main reason she’d asked him to move in. It had been important to Nikki, too albeit in a more selfish way.

In fact, money was important to most people. He couldn’t deny its importance to him. But he didn’t want it to be the reason Cally fell in love with him—
if
she fell in love with him.

Could he really be that lucky?
Or was it only wishful thinking? After his entirely shitty week, he could do with a little luck. Was it possible she could learn to love him, despite his flaws and failings or was he conjuring up happily-ever-after scenarios that had little basis in reality? And what would happen when she found out he was rich? Would a seven-figure bank balance change the way she felt about him? Would it make her want him more, or would she be angry he kept it from her?

He’d never been good at reading a woman’s mind—hell, he didn’t know
any
man who was good at that. In his experience, they always reacted the opposite way you thought they would. He’d long ago given up trying to work them out.

What he did know was that he wanted her to love him for himself. If she was going to eventually fall in love with him, he wanted her to fall in love with Andy Warwick, the police officer, negotiator and all-round good guy.

Slowing to a halt, he lifted his gaze to hers and finally answered her question. “My place is a little ways up the hill from here.” Purposefully vague, yet not being dishonest, he hoped her curiosity would be satisfied. He should have known he wouldn’t get away with it that easily.

“Really? So it’s not too far away?”

It was obvious she was angling for information, but he refused to take the bait. “No, not too far.” He took a bite of ice cream, filling his mouth and then took his time swallowing it.

“Maybe you could take us there?”

He froze and then forced his lips into a smile. “Maybe. Right now, it’s getting late though. We should probably head back.”

* * *

Calling out to Jack and Jimmy, Cally watched Andy take another bite of his ice cream and frowned. Something wasn’t right. That was the second time in as many minutes Andy had deflected questions about his house. Surely he had one? After all, he’d been living somewhere before he’d moved in with her and why would he tell her he lived in Bondi if he didn’t? There was no reason to make up something like that.

Unless he didn’t want her to know where he
really
lived? Property in Bondi didn’t come cheap. She knew that first hand after spending hours scrolling through real estate websites at the local library before she’d moved from Armidale.

Was it possible he’d lied about where he lived to
impress
her? But what about the five-thousand dollars he’d presented to her? He had to have surplus money to hand over a check like that. She snuck another peek at him as he stared out in silence at the ocean. Had she misread him? Had she gotten another man she liked totally wrong—
again
?

He’d seemed so straight forward, so totally without artifice. At least, that’s what she’d thought before he moved in.
What if she was wrong? What if it was all a farce?
What if he’d created this well-to-do persona just to impress her? Did she appear so hung up on money that he thought he had no choice? How shallow did he think she was?

Her frown deepened. Was she jumping to wild conclusions? After all, just because he’d been vague about where he lived didn’t necessarily mean his place didn’t exist near the beach. Did it? Could she have it wrong? Could there be some other reason why he was disinclined to talk about himself? He’d willingly shared some of the most painful secrets of his past. Why not his present?

She sighed. She didn’t know what to think. One minute she was having hot and steamy fantasies about him and the next she’d almost convinced herself he was a deceitful egomaniac. But there was one thing she did know: Anything that seemed too good to be true usually was. And a free lunch could end up being the most expensive meal of your life…

* * *

A little over an hour and a half later, Jack lay sound asleep, sprawled across the back seat of Andy’s car. They were headed back to Cally’s cottage after dropping Jimmy home. She couldn’t stop her thoughts from circling around and around the ever-increasing number of questions she had about the man who sat next to her. From the corner of her eye, she saw him glance across at her.

“You’re awfully quiet, Cally.”

She sighed, knowing he was right, but she wasn’t ready to confront him with her suspicions. “I’m tired, that’s all.”

“Big week?”

“You could say that.”

“What’s on tomorrow?”

Her gaze rested on his strong, tanned hands that looked so sure and confident on the steering wheel. “I’ve got school from eight-thirty until three and then a couple of hours cleaning at the station. How about you?”

“I’m on nightshift. I start at six.”

“So you’ll be arriving at work not long before I do.” A wry smile turned up her lips.

“I guess.”

“At least we don’t have to fight over the shower.”

“Not tomorrow, anyway.”

She blushed. Despite her misgivings, images of him naked and steamy in the shower immediately crowded her mind. She had to stop thinking of him like that: like he was the most desirable man in the world; like she couldn’t wait to put her hands on him, her lips, her tongue…

Suppressing a groan of frustration, she turned away and peered out the window. The day was nearly over and the late afternoon traffic had dwindled. Before long, Andy turned off the Pacific Highway and swung the car into her tree-lined driveway. He brought the car to a halt and she turned to him, offering him a smile.

“Thanks for today, Andy. It was great and I know the boys enjoyed themselves, Jack especially. I appreciate all you did for him today. It’s a day he’s not going to forget.”

His gaze moved over her face and then lingered on her lips. He was close enough to kiss her. She wondered what he would do if she leaned over and pressed her mouth against his. The thought sent a shiver of anticipation running through her.

As if reading her mind, he moved closer and took her face in his hands. He stared at her for long moments, as if waiting for her to object, before lowering his mouth. His lips touched hers so lightly that afterwards she wasn’t even sure whether he’d actually kissed her. She pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

His eyes were liquid chocolate, molten with desire. Of its own volition, her hand came up to rest on his cheek. It was all the invitation he needed.

Pulling her hard against him, his lips met hers again. This time, there was no holding back. Andy kissed her with a passion that left them both breathless. The warm pressure from his mouth sent shards of desire shooting through her body. His tongue found hers and tangled in a timeless dance of parry and thrust. His hands moved from her head to fondle her breasts, covered only by the soft black bikini top.

Her nipples hardened beneath the fabric. She strained against him, trying to get closer, groaning in frustration when the gearstick kept getting in the way. His hand stole down to caress her bare thigh and slowly eased higher. She moaned against his lips.

He growled low in his throat and his hand moved higher. He stroked her through the cotton of her shorts. Need throbbed in her core. A moment later, he slipped his fingers under the waistband of her shorts and then her bikini bottom until his fingers tangled in her soft curls. One finger, then two slid teasingly across her wet slit.

She groaned and flung her head sideways against the leather headrest. She was on fire, burning with need. With her eyes almost closed, she caught sight of Jack’s sleeping form.

Reality crashed into her. She gasped and pulled back, pushing Andy’s hand away.

“Andy, please. Stop. We can’t. What about Jack?” She dragged deep breaths into her lungs and tried to regain control.

With his face taut from the effort, Andy visibly fought to regain control. His breath was ragged. His jaw was clenched.

“Cally, I’m sorry. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking. I shouldn’t have… It’s just that, you’re so damned beautiful and I-I thought a kiss would be enough.” He shrugged, seemingly at a loss for words. His eyes burned with emotion.

She looked up at him, feeling just as confused and uncertain. “I’m sorry, too,” she whispered. “I shouldn’t have led you on like that. I don’t know what got into me. I just…” She blushed and looked down at her hands. Jack stirred on the back seat, blinking sleepily. He sat up. They jumped back from each other as if they’d been burned.

Andy opened his door and climbed out. He pulled the beach bag and their hats out of the trunk and walked around to her side to assist her from the car. Opening the rear door, she leaned in and helped her son from the car.

“Come on honey, we’re home. Let’s go inside.”

* * *

Well-hidden behind the dark shadows of the overgrown bushes that crowded Cally’s driveway,
Stewart Brady stared at her and the man she was making out with in the front seat of a top-of-the-line Audi. The years had been kind to her. She barely looked a day older. Her hair was now short, but it still glinted gold in the late afternoon sunlight. When she turned her face to meet the mouth of the man in the driver’s seat, her tanned skin looked almost luminous.

The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface ever since he discovered her treachery, now threatened to boil over. He’d wanted to search for her the very instant he’d read the newspaper article more than a month ago, but the inconvenience of his criminal trial had taken precedence. There was no point in further antagonizing the law. With a bit of luck, his father would see to it that the matter disappeared, but until then, he had to pretend justice would prevail.

It was a stroke of luck that the judge had taken ill. The trial had been adjourned for a week. In the meantime, he was free on bail. Within hours, he’d convinced his father to lend him a set of wheels and he headed south to Sydney.

It had taken him longer than he’d thought to find her. He’d committed every word of the newspaper story to memory, including the street and suburb the article had mentioned, but the Pacific Highway ran for miles and he’d spent the better part of a day walking up and down the busy road searching for the house that looked like the one in the picture.

It had been late in the afternoon when he finally spied the concealed driveway. He’d barely had time to take in the old-but-tidy cottage and the battered Toyota parked beside it before the swish Audi swung into the driveway. He’d darted into the bushes and took refuge there while he studied the new arrivals.

When he recognized Cally in the passenger seat, he’d nearly stepped forward and revealed himself, but a glance at the size of the man beside her had given him pause. Even from behind the steering wheel, it was obvious the man was no lightweight.

Stewart took a swig from the hip flask he kept in his shirt pocket and relished the burn of the alcohol down his throat. The couple in the car a few feet away continued to make out. Even from his hideout, he heard the sounds of their passion.

His cock stirred. It had been too long since he’d had a woman. Ever since he’d been slapped with the assault charge, even the sluts around Watervale had steered clear of him and it wasn’t like Tiffany had put out too often. As soon as the wedding ring slid on her finger, sex had become a scarce commodity. If it hadn’t been for his son, Luke, he’d have divorced the bitch years ago.

He winced at the thought of his son, now rotting in the Watervale Cemetery. Life was totally fucked up. There was no doubt about it. But then, just when he thought he couldn’t take another kick to the guts, it surprised him; and that made him realize life was still worth living. He’d been beyond stunned when he’d stumbled across the discovery of Cally’s son—
his
son—alive and well in Sydney. It had given him the impetus he’d needed to reclaim his life. It was too bad he’d had the unfortunate run-in with the prick at the gym. Being the defendant in a well publicized criminal trial, even when released on conditional bail, had a way of restricting his movements.

His thoughts returned to his son.
Jack Savage
. It was a good strong name, a name he might even have chosen himself, if he’d been given the opportunity. Of course, he’d change the boy’s surname to Brady as soon as he could. There was no way his son wasn’t going to bear his name.

The murmur of voices coming from the Audi snagged his attention. He returned his attention to the vehicle and noticed the figure of a child in the back seat. He froze. Blood gushed through his veins, the sound almost drowning out the voices.

A small blond head leaned toward the couple in the front seat. Stewart gasped.
It was him.
His son. He knew it.

Everything inside him urged him to rush forward and claim the boy then and there, but years of knowing when to be cautious held him back. He’d arrived in Sydney unarmed.

The driver looked like someone who could handle himself. While Stewart was confident in his ability to throw a punch, he never took on a fight he wasn’t certain he could win.

It would be foolhardy to reveal himself too early. Cally could take fright and disappear. Who knew how long it could take to find them again if he lost the element of surprise?