Miri ignored the command to stay behind. Although she wasn’t as fast as Tad, she ran after him. The path curved and revealed the site of the explosion.
A boat was burning in its private mooring, flaming debris in the water and on the short deck. A man lay at the end of the deck, trying dazedly to rise.
Tad ran up to him, scanning the water before crouching and focusing on the man. ‘Was it your boat? Was there anyone else on-board?’
‘No.’ It was slurred and meaningless.
‘I can’t see anyone in the water,’ Miri panted. Although there were plenty of people gathering on land. She ignored them, concentrating on Tad.
He’d straightened, seemingly satisfied for the moment with the man’s condition. His attention was for the water. Clearly, if he spotted someone in the sea he’d dive in, despite the debris, flames and other pollutants.
‘It w…was just him.’ A young man, a coffee mug dangling forgotten in one hand, stepped forward. He was perhaps her age, but sharply dressed for work in a suit and maroon tie. His black shoes gleamed. Only his face was lost and uncertain. He stuttered. ‘I was watching. He was alone. He fiddled with the boat, got everything ready and then…’
Others in the crowd could finish the sentence for him. ‘Ka-boom.’
‘Engine fire.’
‘Petrol leak.’
‘Should have checked.’
Water police in uniform pounded down the path.
‘One casualty,’ Tad said. ‘Possible concussion. Minor burns. Call an ambulance.’
The command was radioed in. On the water, a police boat approached, staying clear of the mess. On land, Tad might be out of uniform, but he was the one in authority. ‘I’m Sergeant Tad Robertson, Water Police.’ He nodded at the witness. ‘You’ll need to give a statement.’ He studied the burning boat and the expanse of water around it in a final assessment of danger.
It was strange how the smouldering wreckage and its inherent drama became merely background to him. He was the focal point of the scene. If she had her camera, she’d have shot him like that: a man of action, decisive, controlled and respected.
Seeing him at work made his relationship fears strike home. Made her understand that he’d been tense last night, too. Worried about what he brought to a relationship and what he would need in a partner.
The woman who loved him would have to accept the risks and stresses of his job, but more than that, the reality was that no matter the work he did, he would always be a man who ran to rather than away from danger. Not because he was a thrill-seeker or had a hero complex, but because he had the innate ability and the training to respond. To serve and protect was in his soul.
He turned away from the water and saw her. There was a fractional shift in his stance, from alert command to something more personal. He focussed on her.
She watched him approach, allowing the reality of his strength and purpose to settle into her, and feeling her own confidence grow. She could handle it.
‘It was probably a fuel leak,’ he said. ‘The firies will be here in a tick. They’ll put it out, then investigate. You okay?’
‘I’m fine. Fine.’ Perhaps her emphasis was a bit too strong, but then, she was having an epiphany. She had the strength to match him and to make a relationship between them work.
He raised an eyebrow.
She took a fistful of his shirt and pulled him down to her, kissing him with all the possessiveness he’d ever displayed.
By his response, he was more than okay with it.
A wolf whistle split the air. They definitely had an audience.
She’d forgotten.
Tad drew back a fraction. ‘I should go. Get dressed. Work.’
‘Uh-huh.’ She released his shirt, but licked her lower lip.
His gaze locked on her mouth.
‘When you get off shift,’ she said, ‘come to the flat.’
His eyes asked the question.
‘You’re worth any risk, Sergeant Tad Robertson.’ Then she squeaked as he hugged her tight.
‘Six o’clock,’ he growled in her ear.
Moments later he was walking back towards the scene and the overtly curious water police. They were all grinning, some laughing.
Miri didn’t hear what they said, but she heard Tad’s order.
‘Knock it off. She’s mine.’
***
Tonight, dinner wasn’t the main event, but Miri still made an effort. She set the balcony table and had a beef casserole in the oven on low. It was cooked and could be eaten any time. Beer in the fridge. Pretty dress on. Bare feet, the nails newly painted in shades of orange, like a sunrise. And anticipation smouldering like a firecracker.
She danced through the apartment, adjusting cushions, smiling at nothing, pausing to drink in the beauty of Sydney Harbour at evening. With the lights going on, it was as if the city celebrated her happiness. She stretched, arms over her head and rejoicing in how alive she felt.
The buzzer pealed and she ran to the door.
***
Tad had showered and shaved at headquarters at the end of his shift, enduring the laughing, envious comments he’d collected. Those who hadn’t seen Miri or their kiss had heard both described. He had condoms in his wallet from last night, from before they’d gotten themselves all tangled up.
Were they tangled now?
In the best possible way. He’d sensed the change in Miri that morning. The strength that had gotten her through the hostage situation had resurfaced. She was confident in the way of someone who knew what she wanted, and could handle the good with the bad.
One look at her expression at the boat explosion had convinced him.
He’d seen his mum half-smile like that at his dad, after the old man came in full of triumph and energy after a stormy night at sea. A night that she’d spent worrying. It was the look of a woman who understood her man, who would stand by him in good times and bad.
A woman who knew her own strength was incredibly sexy.
He pressed the button to Miri’s apartment and she buzzed him through. He took the stairs two at a time and grinned when he reached her floor and saw her in the door of the apartment, a hand on either side of the doorway, her body leaning forward at a perilous angle. Her dress was pink, sleeveless, and buttoned down the front like an over-sized shirt.
‘I have beer for a hard-working cop.’
‘I think I’d like something sweeter.’ And then he took her mouth, finding the sweetness, but also finding warmth and a passionate welcome. He kicked the door shut behind him.
***
The dress had been an inspired buy. Tad definitely appreciated the buttons down the front, and so did she. He slipped them open deftly, one after the other, glancing into her eyes when he discovered her lack of a bra. She shivered as he slid both hands inside the half undone dress and cupped her breasts. Heaven.
‘The bedroom is down the hall, on your left.’ She had the guest room, a comfortable, impersonal space not suited to seduction, but none of that mattered. Nor did the casserole in the oven. She walked backwards along the corridor, kissing and touching Tad, fumbling with his belt.
He wrenched his T-shirt off and dropped it as they entered the bedroom.
She moaned, a sound that would have embarrassed her at any other time, but he was perfection. Muscles rippled and she had the right to touch and taste and…this was freedom. Life at its most beautiful.
He dropped to one knee, undoing the last of her buttons and pushing open her dress. Ivory silk knickers were all that covered her. She wasn’t toned and fit like him, but the tender stroke of his hands over her curves said he liked what she was very much. He rose and finished undressing.
The soft cotton of her dress whispered across her skin as she shrugged it off. She draped it over the back of a chair. Before she could turn around, he was there. He stepped behind her and caressed her breasts. She leaned back, letting her spine arch, and pushed her breasts more fully into his hands.
‘Look.’ Just a slight shift sideways and they were reflected in the mirror above the low dresser.
She shivered deep inside at the eroticism. His tanned hands against the pale skin of her breasts. Her soft thighs framed by the hardness of his muscled limbs. She watched as his right hand slid down her body, over her stomach to touch her there, through damp silk knickers. Her hips moved against the wanted torment.
‘You’re beautiful.’
She turned in his arms, hungry for his mouth.
He broke the kiss. ‘May I?’ A tug at her knickers.
‘Yes.’ She stepped out of them and climbed onto the bed, smiling as he followed her down and she felt his weight for the first time. Only for a moment, and then he rolled them so that she was over him and he had both hands free to turn her on more than she’d thought possible.
Condoms weren’t meant to be sexy — sensible and necessary, yes, but not sexy. Someone ought to tell the advertisers. But she’d seen nothing sexier than Tad roll one on then lie back, sensual challenge in his eyes. Somehow he knew she was only a feather’s touch from orgasm and he was daring her. If she wanted it, she had to ride him.
She slid down on him, her head tipping back as the sensation of him in her invaded her body and short-circuited her brain.
‘Are you going to move?’ His voice was strained.
She opened her eyes, looked at him. ‘Make me.’
A heartbeat later he’d flipped them over, pulled out and thrust in deeper yet. ‘Ready?’
She was too busy climaxing to answer. Then again, that was her answer. He waited, and when she’d just about recovered, he started moving. Her second orgasm was even stronger and triggered his. He came, shouting her name.
***
‘My whole body is smiling,’ she said when they lay together afterwards — he was a cuddler, which was brilliant.
‘You screamed, too,’ he pointed out.
‘More like a gasp. A loud one.’
‘Huh.’ He sounded smugly sure of what he’d heard — and achieved.
She traced a pattern on his chest. ‘Tad?’
‘Hmm?’
‘Thanks for believing I could rescue myself.’
He pulled her down over him, one hand tangling in her hair.
She waited for what he might say, how he would answer.
‘Brave, beautiful and...’ Their lips were a millimetre apart when he paused. ‘…a baker’s daughter. Do you have any whipped cream in the fridge?’
The kiss went gloriously wrong as they laughed.