‘HAS Brad been bothering you again?’
Rebekah caught the fierce sisterly concern in Ana’s voice, and tried to diffuse a potentially sensitive subject. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘This is me, remember? And I don’t fool easily. So spill it.’
Suzie was on a lunch break, and they were alone in the shop.
Rebekah refrained from prevaricating, but she kept it simple. ‘You know the score. Every now and again Brad decides to ride the nuisance wagon. So I changed my silent number to minimise the hassle.’
‘Uh-huh. This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact you’ve been seeing Jace?’
It was a rhetorical question, and they both knew it.
‘I’m not seeing Jace,’ she refuted, paying far more attention than necessary to the bouquet she was assembling.
‘OK, we won’t go there just now.’ Ana’s gaze held a degree of anxiety. ‘Watch your back, Rebekah,’ she warned gently. ‘Brad is a loose cannon just waiting to explode.’
She controlled the shaky sensation that threatened to visibly exert itself, and met her sister’s gaze.
‘I’m doing everything I’ve been legally advised to do,’ she assured quietly. ‘It’s been two years since the divorce. I’m entitled to a life of my own.’
Ana’s expression softened. ‘Brava. You, more than most.’ There were assurances she wanted to reiterate, but she wisely held her counsel. ‘Promise you’ll phone me at the slightest hint of a problem. OK?’
Rebekah offered a wry smile. ‘Want me to write it in blood?’
The phone rang, and Ana picked up, intoned the customary greeting, conversed for a few minutes, then held out the cordless receiver. ‘For you. Jace.’
‘Hi. How are you?’
‘Do you really want to know?’ His voice was low and husky, almost intimate, and she barely controlled the spiralling sensation deep within.
‘How was the flight? Cairns?’
‘Fine. Better if you were with me.’
The breath stopped in her throat. ‘I have to go, we’re really busy.’
She thought she heard his faint chuckle. ‘Take care, Rebekah. I’ll call you on your cellphone tonight.’
Rebekah handed the cordless receiver to Ana with a lift of her eyebrows. ‘Nothing to say?’
‘And risk having you jump down my throat?’ There was humour in her voice, and her eyes danced with silent mischief. ‘No way.’
The afternoon was busy, so much so it was almost seven when Rebekah locked up shop and slid into the van. She planned a shower, then she’d fix a steak salad and eat it with a fresh, crunchy bread roll she’d picked up from the bakery, maybe watch a video she’d rented out.
Summer was definitely on its way, for the days were becoming warmer, she perceived as she swung the van into the driveway leading down to the apartment underground car park.
It took only seconds to insert her key and have the security grille lift to allow her entry, and she eased into her allotted parking bay, cut the engine and gathered her shoulder bag, the leather briefcase with the day’s computer print-outs, then she slid from the van and began walking towards the lift.
‘Think you’re pretty smart, dating another man, don’t you?’
Rebekah froze, caught in the grip of fear as Brad stepped out from behind a concrete pillar. Calm, she had to remain calm. Try logic, a silent voice screamed.
‘How did you get in here?’
‘Use your imagination.’
He was taller, bigger than her, and she recognised the hard glitter in those pale grey eyes, the cruel tilt of his mouth.
Instinct had her gauging the distance to the lift well.
‘Forget it,’ Brad advised harshly. ‘You’ll never make it.’
The van…if only she could lock herself in there, she’d be safe. Except she’d locked the door, and by the time she reached it, inserted the key, he’d have caught her.
OK, if she couldn’t escape, she had two options. Talk first; if that failed, fight.
‘I can’t think of anything we have to discuss.’
‘Wrong, baby.’
She hated his smile, it hid pure venom. ‘If I don’t ring my sister within five minutes, she’ll call the police.’
He recognised her bluff. ‘So—call her.’
Rebekah slid open the zip fastening her bag, felt for and found the small canister, then she palmed it as she withdrew her hand, aimed and pressed the spray button.
The mace hit him in the face, and his howl of pain was animal-like in its rage.
Rebekah didn’t hesitate, she ran to the lift, hit and held down the button…and prayed. If only she could get inside, she’d be safe.
Oh, come on, she begged, agonising if she’d have been wiser to have sought the van and locked herself in. At least she could have used her cellphone to call for help.
There was a faint electronic whine heralding the lift’s descent, and she felt her heart thud in her chest as she counted off the seconds to its arrival.
She could hear Brad swearing, his voice rising to a raging crescendo, and then she didn’t care any more as the lift doors swung open and she raced inside the cubicle, pushed the seventh-floor button, only to see Brad put his arm between the closing doors.
A scream left her throat, and she stabbed the close doors button. To little avail. His strength was accelerated by rage, and she batted his hands with the briefcase, drawing blood.
Fear drove her, and for a few seconds she thought she’d won. Except one herculean burst of strength on Brad’s part pushed the doors open sufficiently for him to squeeze through.
She still had the can of mace in her hand, and she used it mercilessly before he had a chance to bring the lift to a stop mid-floor.
The cubicle wasn’t large, and even blinded by the stinging mace Brad roared with rage as he lurched, arms spread wide, circling as she strove to evade him in the confined space.
Her only hope was to escape as soon as the lift stopped at the seventh floor, and she quickly identified her apartment key on its keyring, and held it poised in readiness.
There was nowhere to hide, and the timing proved lousy as Brad’s hand groped her shoulder, then closed over it with steel-like strength.
A random punch slammed into her ribs, quickly followed by another to her upper arm.
At that moment the lift drew to a halt, and he dragged her out into the foyer.
‘Where’s your damned key?’
She’d die before she willingly gave it to him, and she wrestled with him, taking a cracking slap to the side of her face.
‘Give it to me, bitch!’
Rebekah swung the briefcase at him and he wrenched it from her grasp, then tackled and knocked her to the floor.
In one desperate move she tossed the keys as hard as she could, uncaring where they landed as long as he couldn’t find them.
She heard them hit something with a resounding clunk, felt the bruising grip of Brad’s fingers on her flesh, then a loud voice demanding,
‘What the hell is going on here?’ Followed by, ‘Rebekah? George, get out here!’
There was noise, voices, the sound of scuffling, then mercifully she was free, and hands were soothing her, Maisie, her neighbour, was issuing instructions like a nursing sister-in-charge, her chosen vocation. And her partner, George, an ex-wrestler with a body that was all muscle, held Brad in a bone-crunching grip.
Maisie called the police, helped Rebekah into her apartment, called a doctor, then she collected her camera and took photos for evidence.
Rebekah didn’t argue, although she was sufficiently familiar with police procedure to know they’d do the same.
When they came, she gave a statement, which had to be typed up and signed at the police station within the next twenty-four hours. The doctor arrived and examined her, dressed a few abrasions, suggested ice-packs for the bruising, and gave her a sedative to take to help her sleep.
Maisie fussed over her, plying her with water and painkillers.
‘Is there someone I should call? Your sister, brother-in-law?’
‘I’ll do it later.’
Maisie looked doubtful. ‘You really should have someone stay with you tonight. Or you should go to your sister’s place.’
‘I’ll be fine.’
‘Sure you will. You’re as pale as a ghost, and as cold as charity.’ She gave a derisive snort. ‘If I had anything to do with it, you’d be in hospital overnight.’
Rebekah tried for a smile and didn’t quite make it. ‘I promise I’ll ring Ana the moment you leave.’
‘Hmm. Why don’t you go take a shower, and I’ll rustle up something light for you to eat?’ She held up her hand. ‘I’ll be offended if you refuse.’
It was easier to capitulate. ‘Thanks.’
She stayed beneath the hot spray for a while, then, towelled dry, she donned jeans, added a cotton top, and emerged into the kitchen to discover her neighbour removing a plate of delicious-smelling goulash with rice.
‘Your sister rang while you were in the shower.’
Rebekah knew the answer even before she posed the question. ‘You told her?’
‘She had to know. She’s on her way over.’ Maisie indicated the plate which she set down on the dining-room table. ‘Sit and eat.’
‘Yes, Mother.’
‘I could be, if I’d been a child bride.’ She tried to look fierce. ‘You need someone to look after you.’
‘I have you and George just across the hall.’ She took a mouthful of food and closed her eyes at the taste. ‘I know why George married you.’
‘Don’t change the subject. You need a man in your life.’
‘I had one, and look at the way that turned out.’
‘A real man, one who’ll take care of you.’
‘Perhaps I’m content taking care of myself?’
Maisie gave another snort, and filled the kettle to make tea.
In no time at all the intercom buzzed, and Rebekah threw her neighbour a wry glance. ‘The cavalry have arrived.’
Ana and Luc? There were hugs, expressions of concern, reassurances given, and decisions made.
‘You’re coming back with us,’ Ana said firmly. ‘And if you argue, I’ll hit you.’
‘I rather think she’s had more than her fair share of that, agape mou,’ Luc chided gently, and watched his wife’s face crease with remorse.
‘I didn’t mean— Oh, God, Rebekah,’ Ana groaned out loud.
‘I know, you just love me to death, is all.’
Rebekah’s cellphone pealed, and Luc moved to retrieve it from the coffee-table, where Maisie had placed everything that had spilled from her bag.
‘I’ll take it, shall I?’ He picked up, and moved to one side of the room. His conversation was muted and spanned several minutes, then he retraced his steps and handed her the unit. ‘Jace.’
She closed her eyes, then she opened them again and voiced a restrained greeting into the mouthpiece.
‘Rebekah—’
Even from a distance she could sense the quiet anger beneath the surface of his control. ‘I’m fine.’
‘And daisies grow upside-down in the ground.’ His voice held an edge she couldn’t define. ‘Give me your word you’ll stay with Luc and Ana for a few days.’
She almost said she’d suffered worse than this. ‘Tonight,’ she conceded, and heard him mutter something unintelligible. Suddenly she’d had enough, and there wasn’t another thing she wanted to hear…much less from a man who’d caused her more emotional highs and lows in one short week than anyone she’d ever known. ‘Goodnight.’
Maisie took care of her plate, Ana fed Millie and put down fresh water, while Rebekah gathered up a change of clothes, a few essentials and pushed them into an overnight bag.
Luc crossed to her side as she re-entered the kitchen. ‘Ready?’
She inclined her head, thanked Maisie, gave Millie a gentle pat, then she followed everyone out into the lobby while Luc locked up.
Ana sat in the back seat of the Mercedes and caught hold of Rebekah’s hand as Luc drove to their palatial home in suburban Vaucluse.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’
‘Not particularly.’ There was little point in rehashing it.
Ana’s fingers tightened, and her voice held an uncustomary hardness. ‘This isn’t going to happen again.’
It was nice, Rebekah had to admit, to be taken care of. Luc and Ana’s home was an architectural masterpiece set in beautiful grounds high on a hill with splendid views out over the harbour.
Petros, their politically correct manservant, fussed over her as if she were a precious piece of china. Within minutes of arrival he prepared tea and exquisite bite-size sandwiches.
Luc joined them for a while, then at a telling glance from his wife he excused himself on the pretext of dealing with business email. He brushed a light kiss to Ana’s cheek, then crossed to gift Rebekah a similar salutation and departed the room.
Rebekah allowed Petros to refill her cup, and declined anything further to eat.
Ana waited only long enough for the manservant to wheel the tea-trolley from the room before leaning forward in her chair.
‘Tell me exactly what happened,’ she insisted sternly. ‘And don’t leave anything out.’
Reliving the episode was emotionally draining, although it helped her deal with it.
‘The bastard,’ Ana derided huskily when Rebekah finished. ‘Luc and Jace will ensure he never comes near you again.’
Hang on a minute… ‘Jace? What does Jace have to do with it?’ She drew in a deep breath in the hope of assembling a sense of calm. ‘While I appreciate Luc’s help, I’m quite able to take care of everything myself.’
‘It’s done,’ Ana said simply. ‘And you can stop with the fierce expression.’
‘Ana—’
‘It’s time to bring out the big guns,’ her sister remonstrated gently. ‘Luc and Jace have them…in spades.’
This was getting out of hand. ‘Look—’
‘No,’ Ana declared emphatically. ‘You look. I don’t want to wake up one morning and hear Brad has somehow got to you and you’re just another statistic in the assault and battery records.’ She leaned forward and caught hold of Rebekah’s hands. ‘I was there, remember? When you walked out on him, and afterwards.’ Tears filled her eyes. ‘Jace is the first man you’ve dated in a long time. Only to have Brad emerge out of the woodwork and stalk you.’ A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. ‘No one, no one is ever going to hurt you again. Ever.’
Rebekah felt her stomach curl into a tight ball at her sister’s distress. ‘Ana, don’t. I’m OK. The police have arrested him.’
‘Sure, you’re OK. Bruised ribs, multiple contusions. Not to mention shock and trauma.’ Her voice rose. ‘I hate to think what would have happened if he’d dragged you inside the apartment. Or if Maisie and George hadn’t been home.’
She caught the fierce determination apparent, and stayed any further protest…for now. She might be the victim, but Ana was hurting too. ‘You haven’t shown me the latest print-out of the babe’s ultrasound. Or the radiographer’s video clip.’
Ana offered a shaky smile. ‘Changing the subject won’t change my mind.’ She stood to her feet and extended her hand. ‘Come on. Let’s go see pictures of your foetal niece or nephew.’
It helped to take both their minds off the earlier part of the evening, and it was there Luc found them rewinding the video tape for the third or fourth time.
‘Time to call it a night for both of you, hmm?’
Rebekah caught the way his features softened as he took Ana’s hands in his and gently pulled her to her feet. He would, she knew, ease his wife’s apprehension and be there for her when she stirred through the night.
An ache began deep inside at the thought of being able to sink into the comfort of a man’s arms, have his lips brush her forehead, trail over her cheek and settle on her mouth.
‘You’re to rest tomorrow,’ Ana insisted as they ascended the stairs. ‘Suzie is competent, and we’ll manage. Coming into the shop is a no-no. OK?’
‘I’ll see how I feel in the morning.’ It was a compromise at best, and Ana shot her a dark glance as if divining her thoughts.
‘I mean it.’
Rebekah caught her sister’s hand and gently squeezed it. ‘I know you do.’
‘Petros has made up the front guest suite for you, and you’re to sleep in. Just come downstairs whenever you feel like breakfast.’ Ana’s features sharpened a little. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘Yes,’ she reassured. In truth every bone in her body ached. ‘I’m going to have that sedative, hop into bed, and sleep like a baby.’
She did take the sedative, and she did sleep for a few hours, only to wake in the early dawn hours feeling as if her body had been pummelled like a punching bag.
Which it pretty much had, she conceded as she slipped gingerly out of bed and made for the en suite.
She snapped on the light and examined her face in the mirror. A bit of concealer would cover the emerging bruise. As to the rest of her…she lifted the nightshirt and grimaced at the swelling on her ribs, the blueish-purplish colour, and knew she was fortunate none of the ribs was broken. Shallow breathing was the order of the day for a while.
There were scratches on her arm, a large, reddish welt on one forearm.
Not nice, not nice at all. But the swelling would subside, the bruises yellow and disappear. Give it a few weeks and all that would remain was the memory.
Rebekah checked her watch and saw it was much too early to dress and go downstairs. Returning to bed and trying to sleep wasn’t an option, so she switched on the bedside lamp and leafed through a few glossy magazines Petros had thoughtfully provided.
Rebekah waited until Luc left the house at eight, saw Ana follow him minutes later, then she quickly gathered up her bag and moved quickly downstairs.
Petros was in the midst of clearing the dining-room table, and he turned as she entered the room.
‘Good morning,’ he greeted warmly. ‘I trust you slept well? Ana insisted I shouldn’t disturb you.’ His gaze took in the bag. ‘What can I get you for breakfast?’
It would be useless to say she wasn’t hungry. ‘Orange juice, toast and coffee will be great.’
One eyebrow arched. ‘Might I suggest some fruit and cereal? Eggs with a little ham or bacon? A croissant, perhaps?’
‘You’re bent on spoiling me.’ She took a seat and poured herself a glass of juice. There was fruit on the table, and she selected a banana, peeled and ate it.
‘But toast and coffee is fine.’
There was a folded newspaper near by, and she flicked through the pages, read the headlines, her horoscope for the day, and scanned the comic strips. By which time she’d eaten two pieces of toast and had almost finished her second cup of coffee.
Rebekah retrieved her cellphone and punched in the relevant digits to summon a taxi, and she was relaying the address when Petros re-entered the room.
‘You intend going somewhere this morning?’ the manservant asked as he began clearing dishes.
‘I need to go back to my apartment and feed my cat.’
‘Luc would be most upset if I allowed you to take a taxi. I’ll drive you, whenever you’re ready to leave.’
‘Nonsense.’
‘Please, in this instance I must insist. If you’ll tell me which company you called, I’ll ring and cancel.’
It seemed easier to capitulate, and twenty minutes later she slid out of the four-wheel-drive Petros used for transport.
‘I’ll wait until you’re ready to return.’
He wasn’t going to like the next part at all. ‘I intend remaining at the apartment, Petros.’
His lips pursed in visible disapproval. ‘Luc and Ana will be most displeased.’
‘I promise I’ll ring and explain.’ Ana she could handle, and Ana would handle Luc. Fait accompli. Besides, in less than half an hour she’d be at the shop.
‘Ms Rebekah, I don’t think this is a good idea.’
She offered him a sweet smile. ‘Thanks for the lift.’ Then she turned and used her key to enter the main lobby.
Home, she breathed as she entered her apartment. There was no place quite like your own, and Millie bounded towards her, curling back and forth around her ankles, purring in delighted welcome.
The apartment looked achingly familiar, and she moved through it, straightening a vase on the chiffonier as she made her way to the kitchen.
Fifteen minutes later she’d fed Millie, changed into work clothes, and was on her way to the shop.
‘You aren’t supposed to be here,’ Ana remonstrated the instant Rebekah walked through the door.
‘I know everything you’re going to say,’ she responded firmly as she crossed to the work table and stowed her bag. ‘But I’d rather be doing something constructive than swanning on the chaise lounge, idly flipping through the pages of a magazine.’
Take control. Hadn’t that been the essence of any professional advice she’d ever received? ‘OK, where are we at?’ she queried briskly.
‘You’ve got the morning,’ Ana conceded, trying for a fierce look that didn’t quite come off. ‘Then you’re going home.’
‘I’ve got the day,’ Rebekah corrected gently. ‘And I’ll go home when I’m ready.’
‘You’re impossibly stubborn.’
‘And I love you, too.’
Suzie looked from one to the other. ‘Are you two going to fight, then make up? Or is this serious stuff and I should take five to let you sort it out alone?’
‘Stay,’ Rebekah and Ana ordered in unison.
‘If you insist. Shall I mediate, or referee?’
‘Neither.’
The phone rang, and Ana declared sotto voce, ‘Saved by the bell.’
The morning was busier than usual with a number of customers coming in from the street. It was late morning when Rebekah took a quick check of their stock and reached for the phone to place an order, then arrange for the courier for delivery.
The electronic buzzer heralded the arrival of another customer, and she glanced towards the door, then stilled as Jace entered the shop.
Shock, surprise were just two of the emotions she experienced. Not the least was speculation as to why he was here when he was supposed to be in Cairns. Had his meetings concluded earlier than he’d anticipated? Yet if so, why wasn’t he in Brisbane?
For a moment her gaze locked with his as he stood exuding a silent power that was vaguely frightening.
She watched as he moved towards Ana and offered an affectionate greeting, then he turned and moved towards the table where Rebekah was in the midst of gathering sprays of orchids into a large bouquet.
The nerves inside her stomach gave every impression of performing a series of complicated somersaults, and her fingers faltered as he paused within touching distance.
What could she say? Anything would be superfluous, so she didn’t even try as she bore his raking appraisal.
A muscle bunched at the edge of his jaw, and she saw his eyes harden briefly, then he lifted a hand and trailed light fingers over her cheek.
‘Get your bag,’ he commanded gently. ‘I’m taking you home.’ He pressed his thumb over her lips as they parted to voice a refusal. ‘No argument.’ He increased the pressure slightly. ‘I’ll carry you out of here if I have to.’
Rebekah removed his hand, only, she suspected, because he let her. ‘You don’t have the right to give me orders.’
‘It’s a self-appointed role.’ His voice was a silky drawl that feathered sensation down the length of her spine.
Everything faded from her peripheral vision. There were just the two of them, fused by an electric awareness that had everything to do with heightened sensuality. Right now she didn’t need or want it.
‘Go away.’
‘Not a chance.’
‘Jace—’
‘Do you really want to do this the hard way?’
He was capable of implementing his threat despite any resistance on her part, and, given the choice, she’d opt for dignity over embarrassment.
‘How did you—?’
‘Find out where you were?’ he completed. ‘It was a process of elimination. First Luc, then Petros, and Ana.’
Rebekah moved slightly, shot her sister a dark glance and was met with a blithe smile. It was nothing less than a conspiracy, and one where the odds were stacked against her.
‘There’s a lot of work to get through.’
‘Nothing Suzie and I can’t handle,’ Ana assured.
‘There you go,’ Jace drawled with hateful ease. ‘Now collect your bag and we’ll get on our way.’
‘I have the van. And there is no we.’
‘Arguing this back and forth isn’t going to change a thing.’
‘So concede defeat and follow you like a little lamb?’ She refrained from adding to the slaughter… To no one, least of all this Greek-born American, would she admit she ached all over, her head thumped with pain, and she was fast approaching the need for serious time out.
‘I have the car double-parked outside,’ Jace informed as she reached for her bag.
‘I hope the traffic officer has issued you with a ticket.’ She offered Suzie a wry smile, brushed her lips to Ana’s cheek, then preceded Jace from the shop.
‘None of this is your business,’ Rebekah declared as he eased the car out from the busy thoroughfare. She was unsure whether to be relieved or disappointed there hadn’t been a parking-violation ticket attached to his windscreen.
‘Wrong. My involvement with you started all this.’
‘What involvement?’
‘Don’t split hairs, pedhaki mou.’
The affectionate ‘little one’ got to her as she turned towards him. ‘You mean you postponed business meetings and flew back to Sydney because you felt responsible? That’s ridiculous.’
He met her gaze and held it for a few seemingly long seconds. ‘Is it?’ He returned his attention to negotiating traffic. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘I fail to see the reasons for everyone’s concern. I’m OK.’ She was tempted to tell him there had been more damaging attacks in the past, only to refrain from the admission.
‘Sure you are,’ Jace discounted in a dry, mocking tone. ‘You were barely standing up in there, pale as a ghost, your eyes dark with pain.’ There was underlying anger apparent. ‘What were you trying to prove?’
Should she tell him the truth? ‘I didn’t want to sit and brood.’ And I didn’t want to be alone, she added silently.
Jace swept the car into the entrance adjacent her apartment.
‘Here’s fine.’ She already had her hand on the door-clasp.
‘The hell it is.’ He eased the car down the incline leading to the underground car park, and indicated the security lock. ‘Give me your key.’
‘There’s no need for you to personally see me to my apartment door.’
She was a prickly young woman, and one he wanted to kiss senseless one minute and shake sense into the next. ‘Just…do it, Rebekah.’
‘I don’t—’
‘Your ex-husband has been released on bail.’ Rebekah stilled at his words, then drew in a slight breath…anything other than slight hurt like hell. ‘Why am I not surprised?’
Brad’s mother was a rich society matron who engaged high-ranking lawyers to protect her only son. On the past two occasions Wilma Somerville had rushed to his defence, blamed Rebekah for instigating the attacks, and threatened dire consequences if an official complaint was filed.
The next time Ana took matters into her own hands and persuaded Rebekah to press charges, only to have Wilma’s lawyer release him hours later on bail and later persuade judge and jury Brad was a well-educated, caring man who simply needed a course in anger management. A hefty fine, and he was free.
‘You’re determined to personally check out my apartment to see Brad hasn’t slipped past security undetected and may be lurking in wait for me?’
‘Something like that.’
Rebekah handed him her key in silence, then when the security grille lifted he drove into the parking bay alongside her MG.
‘I very much doubt he’d be so foolish,’ she offered as they walked towards the lift.
Jace spared her a direct look. ‘I’m not prepared to let you take the risk,’ he assured with chilling softness.
She’d decorated her apartment in soft green, cream with a touch of apricot in muted tones. Complemented by modern furniture and same-tone drapes. Her own individual touch, rather than the ascetic perfection of an interior decorator. The ambience was calming and peaceful…her personal sanctuary.
Her small, pale grey-tipped cat sat up on the sofa, surveying him with unblinking solemnity.
‘Millie,’ Rebekah indicated. ‘She’s very spoilt, and not used to you yet.’ Whereupon Millie proved her mistress wrong by jumping down onto the carpet, padding over to Jace and began winding herself around his legs.
He bent down and fondled Millie’s ears. An action which sent the cat into feline ecstasy.
‘Must be your natural masculine charm,’ Rebekah accorded with wry humour.
Jace straightened and one eyebrow slanted in mocking cynicism. ‘Why don’t you sit down and relax?’
Relax, with you here? she demanded silently. Fat chance. ‘Thanks for bringing me home.’
‘But please leave?’
‘Yes.’
‘Think again.’
Her eyes flew wide. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Independence is a fine thing,’ he opined quietly. ‘In this instance, there’s no way you’re staying anywhere alone.’
Anger flared, and it showed in her eyes, the tightening of her mouth. ‘Now, look—’
‘We’ve done that,’ Jace said in a deceptively mild voice. ‘We’re not going to do it again.’
‘Just who gave you permission to take charge of my life?’
‘The decision is mine.’
‘Well, you can absolve yourself from any misguided responsibility and go leave me alone.’
‘No.’
She was angry before, now she was steaming. ‘Brad is unlikely to do anything while he’s out on bail. Even his mother’s lawyer would have a hard job extricating him from jail if he did.’
His gaze focused on her features, noting the tilt of her chin and the proud determination in those deep sapphire-blue eyes. ‘I’m not prepared to risk a repeat of last night.’
She wanted to lash out at him, hurt as she’d been hurt. Yet this was the wrong man, and her mind was spiralling in a way that made no sense at all. ‘Next you’ll tell me you intend staying here all day.’
He was silent for a few long seconds, then he ventured silkily, ‘That’s the plan.’
It was then she noticed the laptop in his hand. ‘You’ve brought work with you?’ Her voice seemed to have acquired a higher pitch, and she met his steady gaze with something akin to disbelief.
‘I can work anywhere. Why not here?’
The anger bubbled over. ‘You’ve appointed yourself babysitter? I don’t believe this…any of it!’
His eyes hardened fractionally. ‘Believe it’s not open to negotiation.’