‘DO YOU NEVER sleep in?’
Ash chuckled at Merle’s drowsy question as he set a coffee beside her. He’d always had more energy than he knew what to do with.
‘No lie-in ever?’ She stifled another yawn.
‘Drink this and get dressed—’
‘Dressed?’ She half pouted. ‘Is that necessary?’
He paused to appreciate the glimpse of unguarded, luscious laziness. Quiet, primly hard-working Merle had melted into a warm, messy woman who’d whispered what she wanted and destroyed him.
‘You’re not tempting me back to bed with you,’ he said firmly.
Actually, she totally was, but after last night he wanted to see if he could resist—even for a few minutes. He needed fresh air to clear his head and the warmth of the sun on his skin to bring back his energy. And he wanted to share that with her.
‘I have plans.’ He tempted her with a little mystery. ‘Good ones, I promise.’
‘You promise?’ She eyed him with teasing amusement. ‘That’s big.’
‘Not the only thing that’s big.’ He winked and walked out, chuckling at the groan that followed him.
Fifteen minutes later he smiled again at the sight of her. Back in the black coveralls, she had a hint of heat in her cheeks despite her teasing banter just before. She looked at him and their gazes meshed. Neither of them spoke, yet everything from the night before flickered in his mind. Her gaze suddenly slipped and she intently studied the basket on the kitchen counter as the colour in her cheeks rose. His heart missed a beat and for a moment that feeling returned—the hesitation, the confusion of whether this was the right thing.
Too late now.
He’d taken her—had his way with every inch of her body. Yet he’d not had his fill. Thank heaven he had the week to satisfy her. He’d thought it pure novelty, but now fierce determination flooded him, drowning that uncommon tendril of doubt that had sprouted again. He’d give her an affair she’d never forget.
She reached for the basket. ‘We’re going...’
‘On an adventure.’ He batted her hand away, not letting her see what he’d packed. ‘You might want to bring a swimsuit.’
Her smile flashed back. ‘You just want me out of my coveralls.’
‘You just think I’m shallow.’ He scooped up the basket and led her to the shed down by the water. ‘Are you okay with boating?’
‘Do we have to paddle?’ She shot him a sideways look.
‘No.’ He laughed as he unlocked the door. ‘We have a motor.’
‘Oh, wow.’ She stared at the classic motorboat that was stored pride of place in the shed. She fluttered her fingertips along the smooth, highly varnished wood as he opened the rear doors out onto the ramp. ‘It’s fabulous—we should be on the Italian riviera.’ She looked at the other equipment stored in the big shed. ‘You really do have all the toys.’
He glanced around the walls briefly before focusing back on the boat he’d not been out in for a decade. ‘Most of it’s new, but we’ve had this beauty for as long as I can remember. My mother bought it but I guess it was too valuable for my father to part with,’ Ash muttered. ‘Even when she was too unwell to walk, I’d carry her down for a spin on the water.’
‘That must’ve been hard.’
‘It was kind of normal.’ He tried to pull together some perspective. ‘There were good moments here.’
But there’d been bad moments too. And the last tainted all other memories of this house. Disappointing someone who really mattered, hurting them irreparably, was the worst. And he had to live with it for the rest of his life. He couldn’t change it. Forgiveness could never be attained.
‘Ash?’
At that soft query he reluctantly glanced over. The compassion in Merle’s gaze had deepened. He didn’t deserve it. ‘Shall we see if it starts?’ He turned away.
The engine coughed, then roared to life.
‘First try.’ She picked up the basket and came down to the end of the ramp. ‘Does it go fast or is it just for show?’ She shot him a look as she shrugged on the life jacket he handed to her.
That look was like a spark, bringing him back to the present. He smiled. ‘It goes fast.’
Merle beamed. ‘I expected nothing less.’
Onboard he let the engine go, whizzing them out along the coastline and past the next couple of bays. Then he headed inland. Merle curled cross-legged on the navy cushions, her face tilted towards the morning sun, her eyes closed. Ash realised almost too late he wasn’t watching where he was steering. He cut the engine so he didn’t crash them into the dock by accident. Merle blinked at their destination, directing a questioning look at him a second later.
‘You must be hungry—you haven’t had breakfast.’ He stepped from the boat onto the dock.
‘Isn’t there food in the basket?’
‘No. That has other essentials.’ He tethered the boat securely.
‘Surely it’s too early for it to be open?’
Five stars and famous, the restaurant had a waiting list a mile long, so he couldn’t quite understand Merle’s audible reluctance. ‘We’re just picking up a package. It won’t take a moment. Come on.’
Ash knew the owner and had phoned ahead to ensure they had what he needed. Up at the building, the door was open.
‘Hey, Josie.’ He gave the waiting woman a quick hug.
‘It’s been for ever, Ash.’
‘It has,’ he acknowledged briefly. ‘Thank you for doing this.’
‘Of course.’ Josie smiled, not even trying to hide her curiosity. ‘Are you staying long? What are your plans for the house?’
‘I’m not sure yet.’
A total lie. He’d have an assistant finalise the sale as soon as he returned to Sydney. Interested buyers had been trying to contact him for months but he’d avoided their calls. Having seen the house now, understanding the changes, there was no question what he’d do. His heart seized and he instinctively turned, seeking his favourite distraction. Besides, he didn’t want Merle thinking he didn’t want to introduce her to Josie. But she’d vanished. Frowning, he looked more keenly for her and spotted a flash through the window. She’d disappeared into the shadows just outside to intently study some sign.
He thanked Josie again and hurried to catch Merle before she disappeared altogether.
‘Why didn’t you come in?’ he asked as he walked her back to the boat.
‘You didn’t want anyone to know you were here. I imagined you wouldn’t want to be seen with anyone else either.’
She didn’t realise that he was pretty much always seen with someone—that it was more unusual for him to be alone in social spaces. Maybe her decision had nothing to do with him. Maybe she’d been playing safe, the way she always did around other people. And she said nothing more now. Did she not talk to people unless they spoke to her first? Did she always hide? Always only work? His curiosity escalated. Why was that? And why the hell was she homeless? She was intelligent and did a good job. What had gone wrong in her life for her to be as alone as she seemed to be?
As they chugged back out into the bay, he watched her relax. He wanted to see her step out into the sunlight again. Her knew she liked the warmth of it. He thought she needed it. But he said nothing, knowing when to hold and when to play his hand. Fifteen minutes later, he slowed the boat and guided it to the small private bay that the outgoing tide had exposed.
She glanced back at him. ‘Ash. This place is magical.’
Yes. It was the perfect place for the Merle he’d first met that night—the Merle who’d been in her element in her bath full of bubbles and beauty.
‘It’s actually still our property, but it’s only accessible by boat and only at the right time with the tide.’ He jumped into the water and held up his hand to help her down.
‘So you timed this ’specially?’
He had.
‘And this is your idea of breakfast?’ Merle giggled as he unpacked the container Josie had handed to him. ‘Champagne and oysters?’
He grinned. He’d known she’d appreciate it—and sharing this with her? This was fun. ‘Aren’t you going to have any?’
He’d poured the champagne and shucked four oysters already, and apparently all Merle could do was stare.
‘I’ve never eaten them,’ she confessed.
‘Ever?’
She shook her head.
‘Here’s to another first, then.’ Suddenly he had so many firsts in his head for her. He couldn’t help teasing. ‘You’ve heard they’re an aphrodisiac?’
‘Ash.’ She glanced at him with those gorgeous eyes. ‘I don’t think I need an aphrodisiac. Right now I need something to calm me down and make me rational again.’
Her slightly husky, sassy honesty stopped his heart.
‘But I like irrational Merle the best,’ he countered.
‘Is it hard to shuck them?’ She watched him pull another shell from the container, chips of ice scattering onto the sand.
‘No. I holidayed here every summer all my youth.’ He laughed and passed her a half-shell. The plump oyster gleamed.
‘You first,’ she muttered, looking very doubtfully at the succulent blob.
He obliged, then raised his brows at her. She took the next one he held out and drew a breath. He watched as the salty treat disappeared between her sweet lips.
‘Thoughts?’ he asked when she’d swallowed.
‘I’m...not sure.’ Her nose wrinkled.
He laughed, again enjoying her honesty. ‘Try another.’
She sipped her champagne to wash it down and Ash broke into the fresh-made fluffy bread and the twist of paper with home-churned butter that had also been in the parcel from the restaurant. She was very appreciative of that combination. He smiled, hiding the aching urge to kiss her, but he knew where that would lead and he still had that odd yearning to prove self-restraint to himself.
Merle finished her bread, licked her lips and suddenly stood.
‘Are you going in the water?’ he asked as she stepped across the sand.
She glanced back at him. ‘I thought I would.’
‘Not in those coveralls—you’ll drown.’
‘Then I’d better take it off.’ A flicker of colour built in her cheeks. ‘I need to clear my head.’
She had a simple black tee beneath and she slipped that over her head to reveal scarlet underwear. Scarlet. He sat back on his hands, tickled. She hadn’t had the opportunity to go shopping in the last twenty-four hours, so those scarlet strips of silk weren’t new, weren’t bought specially for his benefit nor any other lover’s. These were hers, bought for her own pleasure. The heat in his belly exploded. He liked that she indulged herself—those little individual puddings, the bubble bath, the scarlet silk. Her combination of inexperience and earthiness, of sensuality and hesitation with that occasional unpredictability fascinated him.
The urge to chase her was growing. His muscles tensed with the need to wrap her legs around his waist and hold her close. But this was more than his usual desire for release—more than a merely physical ache. This was more fun and more precious. He made himself remain still and watch—appreciating her full, gorgeous curves and inner effervescence as she giggled at the temperature of the water. He only lasted ten seconds before he threw aside any stupid thoughts of self-restraint. He only had a week and it suddenly felt like nothing. He quickly pulled what he needed from the basket and stripped off.
Moments later, he dived after her like the shark he was. He wound his arm around her waist, and to his infinite satisfaction she curled her arms around his neck. Kissing her was pure pleasure. He couldn’t deny her. Couldn’t deny himself. Even after last night, he wanted her more. She’d unlocked a vault of hunger in him. He carried her out of the water and set her down.
‘This is a gorgeous rug,’ she practically purred.
‘Essential,’ he breathed.
He’d tossed it down in those frantic seconds before joining her in the water. Because he didn’t want her sand-burned, didn’t want her soft skin marked in any way. He rolled onto his back so she was above him. Time stretched. A treasure trove of possibility spread over him. He peeled away the scarlet to bare her breasts. She was stunning and he could hardly stand it as she swept her hands, her mouth, her body over his. This was a woman lost in the throes of desire, exploring her sensuality with him. And he’d never felt as lucky. It felt like a first time for him too—this discovery.
‘Like that?’ she asked, a breathless sweet echo of his own check-in with her last night. Ensuring understanding, acceptance, pleasure.
The blue sky was a background to her beauty. Brilliant, almost blinding, the whole world seemed hot and vital. She writhed above him—with a moan, with a choked laugh. His heart beat painfully. She killed him. Never had he experienced such sweet, heady enjoyment. She was fresh and intoxicating and wicked. She didn’t offer the slick moves of a lover aiming to please another. This was too innocent, the expression in her eyes too dazed. Joining her in this was a privilege that he could only strive to deserve—vowing to make it better for her still. She groaned as he worked his hand between them, feeling her flaring response—and his own complete unravelling.
‘You’re stunning.’ And he was helpless. Unable to think of anything more intelligent to say as she made him arch and shout, ‘Merle!’
‘I didn’t think it could get better than last night.’ Merle drowsily studied Ash but couldn’t get a read on what he was thinking. He sipped his drink, gazing across the water, his breathing taking time to slow. And as she too slowly recovered, she began to imagine the full extent of the week’s possibilities.
He glanced down and met her gaze, his mouth quirking. ‘You look like a satisfied kitten.’
‘Kitten?’ she echoed with mock outrage. She did not want to be a kitten. ‘Can’t I be a panther?’
He answered with another bitingly gentle kiss and suddenly she was all out of shy patience. She didn’t want more games. She just wanted him. She broke free from his gorgeously decadent lips and breathlessly asked him to take total advantage of her again.
‘You’ve gone to so much trouble,’ she muttered as she pulled the soft blanket higher up her shoulders another half-hour later.
‘I really haven’t,’ he laughed lazily.
Perhaps for him it wasn’t a bother. Perhaps all these things that were luxuries for her, were simply normal to him.
‘Well...’ she smiled a little sadly ‘...I appreciate it, so thank you anyway.’
He turned that intense gaze of his back on her and she saw questions in his eyes.
‘Talk to me,’ he muttered. ‘Tell me everything.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m pretty boring, Ash.’
‘No. You’re an enigma.’
‘As flattering as that is...’ She shuffled lower in the rug he’d cocooned about them. ‘You’re in for disappointment.’
‘You’re not used to talking about yourself?’
‘Not used to someone being interested.’ She laughed to let him know she was joking. Except they both knew it wasn’t a joke. It was a sad, self-piteous truth that she instantly regretted uttering.
‘Let me in, just a little.’ An Ash Castle dare.
She met his gaze. ‘Will you do the same in return?’
‘Sure.’
She laughed for real then. ‘Are we really going to play emotional strip poker?’
‘I’m asking for history, not emotion.’
‘You don’t think they go together?’
‘No. There are just facts. Points along the way.’
‘Points that move and shape you.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘Why not show me just one of the cards you hold so close, Merle?’
She’d let him in—literally—so this shouldn’t be difficult. And she wanted him to reciprocate because she wanted to understand what drove him to be as determined—as resolute—as he was. And as recklessly, relentlessly unattached. That he was obviously as curious about her? That tilted the balance. Was fascination as mutual as the desire between them?
‘Come on,’ he tempted. ‘Where did you grow up? When did you get your first coveralls? Why did you go into archival work? I want the whole—’
‘Biography? Really?’ She tugged the rug higher. She didn’t want to tell him about her past. She didn’t want him to pity her. Although she had the horrible suspicion he already did.
‘Absolutely.’ He leaned back and surveyed her, humour dancing with curiosity in his eyes. ‘Why not start with the coveralls?’
‘You can’t cope with them, can you?’
‘I’ve already told you I changed my mind about them.’ Ash laughed.
And every time Ash laughed, Merle found herself slipping further under his spell.
‘How and why did they become your go-to style?’ He was like a terrier.
She sighed and relented. ‘When I went to live with my grandfather I picked up a pair from his workshop and they were comfortable. I felt like I could do anything I liked in them.’
Ash leaned closer. ‘There are so many things to unpick in that, I don’t know which question to start with.’
She rolled her eyes but tightened her hold on the rug at the same time.
‘Your grandfather,’ he decided swiftly. ‘When and why did you go to live with him?’
Merle gave in. There was no reason to hide this from him and telling him about it suddenly seemed easy. ‘My mother was a back-up singer for a series of bands. She spent most of her time on the road, gigging here and there. It was hand-to-mouth and hard but she loved the lifestyle.’
He toyed with the edge of the rug near her fist. ‘But how did you fit in with that lifestyle?’
‘For the first decade I waited backstage. When I was very small others in the band would watch me and as I got older I quickly learned to be quiet and stay out of the way. Half the time the headline artists didn’t even know I was there. That’s how I liked it and how she kept me safe.’
‘Safe?’
‘She worked late nights at downmarket venues. It was good to be invisible when I was a young girl.’
His frown set her on the defensive.
‘Don’t disapprove,’ she said. ‘Mum was amazing. She took great care of me. She taught me how to take care of myself.’ Merle had known their situation was precarious and that she had to stay silent and good. ‘She wasn’t supposed to have me there, but she didn’t want to leave me with strangers. I sat on a stool in the wings and read. She could see me from the stage. We were okay.’
‘Then what happened?’
‘When I was about twelve, she sent me to live with my grandparents. She said I needed to go to school, that I was too bright to be held back by her lifestyle. She wanted more for me.’
Ash’s expression remained serious. ‘Did you know your grandparents before you went to live with them?’
‘My mother was young when she had me.’ Heat built in her cheeks. ‘Very young. They didn’t want her to keep me. In the end she left home before I was born. They didn’t approve of her choices but she was hardworking and she did everything she could to give me the best.’
‘Did they approve of you? Of your choices?’
‘Well...’ She half smiled. ‘My grandmother was determined I wouldn’t make the same choices my mother had.’ She’d lectured Merle about her mother’s ‘downfall’ so many times. She’d been so controlling, so strict. But Merle had swallowed back the rebellion and resentment and she’d stayed silent. Knowing again that she had to, to survive.
‘How did that determination play out?’
Merle’s smiled twisted sadly. Ash was too astute—honing in on the most vulnerable angles in her answers.
‘She could yell. A lot. It was best to be quiet. Fortunately I was good at that.’
Be silent, be good, be as unseen as possible. Even though she’d hated having to do so. Hated not being able to stand up for her mother. The one time she’d spoken up, she’d suffered a horrible slap-down. Literally. A punishment that had gone on far in excess of what her ‘crime’ had deserved. But now she shrugged the worst memories off.
‘She lectured for hours. She wanted to control my every minute. So I tried to stay out of her way, out of sight really. I tried not to cause any trouble and not give her anything to be disappointed about.’
Her grandmother hadn’t realised how hellish school was for Merle—there was no danger of her falling in with a ‘bad crowd’, because no crowd was interested in Merle.
Ash’s frown didn’t lessen at all. ‘Where was your grandfather?’
‘Out in the garage. He was a second-hand goods trader and he had a garage and shed full of everything you could possibly imagine. The safest, easiest way to avoid my grandmother was to be with him. I went with him to all the markets.’ He’d given her safe haven from her grandmother. And from school.
‘But he didn’t stop your grandmother from shouting at you?’
‘He did by taking me with him,’ Merle countered. ‘And when I was home I studied in my room. I did chores without question.’ She looked at him and saw he still didn’t understand. ‘She wasn’t well,’ she whispered.
‘So you had to be quiet and out of sight your entire childhood,’ he said grimly.
It hurt, even though it was true. ‘You’re awfully good at judging.’
‘Maybe.’ He leaned over and looked into her eyes. ‘You’re awfully good at making excuses for all three of them.’
Her heart stuttered. ‘They were the only family I had,’ she answered simply.
‘That I do understand.’ His lips twisted in a gentle smile. ‘So they were? What happened?’
She’d known he was going to ask but it was still hard to articulate. Her voice would hardly work. ‘When Mum was on tour in Australia there was a fire at the lodge. They didn’t have batteries in the fire alarms and they didn’t have an up-to-date guest list. She died of smoke inhalation before they realised she was still in the building.’
She knew Ash was looking at her but she couldn’t meet his eyes. She never spoke about this. Most of the time she tried not to even remember it.
‘I’m sorry, Merle.’
She nodded mutely, her throat too tight for sound to emerge.
‘You could’ve been there too,’ he said softly.
She coughed. ‘I know.’ She’d stayed at that same lodge several times before the move to her grandparents’. ‘I was a light sleeper as a kid,’ she whispered. ‘Maybe if I’d been there I would’ve heard something, maybe I’d have woken. Maybe I could have saved her.’ She dreamed she had sometimes. Then she’d wake and remember the worst was real.
For a moment there was silence. But it wasn’t strained, it was oddly connecting.
‘I was devastated when my mother died,’ Ash said gruffly, looking out across the water. ‘Even though I knew it was coming, it wrecked me.’
His quiet admission devastated something within Merle.
‘She had a heart condition all of her life,’ he said. ‘I always wished I could’ve done something about it even when I knew I couldn’t.’
Merle’s heart ached at the guilt echoing in his voice.
So he was human. He wasn’t always supremely confident, floating through life with bulletproof, brilliant ease. He had hurts too. She’d known that. And whatever had happened with his father had cemented his slide into rebellion. It wasn’t that he didn’t care. Maybe it was because he cared an awful lot? And he didn’t want to.
‘How old were you?’ she asked.
‘Eighteen, at the end of my final year of school.’ He frowned and looked back at her, that alert curiosity lighting his eyes once more. ‘How was school for you—when you finally went?’
‘Horrendous. I was never going to be popular like you.’ She laughed a little sadly. ‘And don’t even try to tell me you weren’t. People can’t cope with someone being a bit different and I was very different. I’d never been to school, I had no clue how to play the social clique game...’ She broke off.
‘So how did you survive?’
‘The same way as always. Stay quiet. Stay unseen. Sometimes it’s better not to be noticed.’
‘Merle—’
‘Most of the time I succeeded,’ she interrupted before he could contradict her.
It was easy to be invisible. Easy to avoid eye contact. Easy to avoid answering calls and replying to emails. Easy to be forgotten about.
‘Most of the time?’
He’d heard the wistful edge of regret that she’d been unable to mask. But she didn’t want to go there. Too embarrassing. There was a long moment of silence that she refused to break.
‘Where are your grandparents now?’ He didn’t relent.
She sighed. ‘Three years after I went to live with them, my grandmother had a stroke. She became more difficult. It was a hard couple of years before she had another stroke that left my grandfather on his own with me. He was worn out from caring for her and it took me a while to realise his cognitive abilities were declining. In the end, I couldn’t manage him on my own, not with needing to work as well to support us both. So he went into a facility. I sold the house, and everything else, to ensure he got good care. He passed away eight months ago.’
‘That’s why you’re between residences? You sold the house to cover his care costs?’
She nodded. ‘I only got this job because my boss at the records management company is pregnant and needed someone who could take a live-in job. I did an interview online with Leo. I was lucky and I need to do a good job here.’
A flash of guilt curdled her blood. What was she doing taking the week off work? Worse—spending it with Ash like this? Fraternising with her client’s half-brother was surely a huge mistake—the most unprofessional thing she’d done in her life.
‘Don’t panic.’ He read her mind. ‘I’m gone at the end of the week, remember? There won’t be any repercussions. You’ll get the job done. What’s happened between us won’t have any impact on the future.’
Wouldn’t it? That seemed impossible. She wasn’t the same person she was yesterday, was she? Or perhaps this wanton lover had been inside her all along, just waiting for Merle to allow that part of herself to be unleashed. There was no locking her away again now.
‘That’s why I’m not going to “burn the lot” like you keep telling me to,’ she said softly.
‘The only reason I haven’t is out of respect for the volunteer firefighters.’ He grimaced.
‘You don’t want to keep any of it?’ She didn’t quite understand why. ‘You have good memories here.’
‘I have bad ones too.’
She hesitated but had to ask. ‘Did she die here?’
He nodded slowly. ‘But I wasn’t here at the time.’
He didn’t want to talk about it. She recognised the reluctance because it mirrored her own. Digging too deep hurt. This week with him was only an interlude, an experience. One she had to handle lightly.
She threw the blanket off and stood up on the sand, shaking free of the melancholy that had briefly descended. ‘I think it’s time for another swim.’