There's Something About a Rebel- (16 page)

The hell it was.

One night after she’d closed up, Lissa looked at a tiny apartment that was becoming available at the end of the following month. No sea views but she couldn’t afford to be choosy. She drove home feeling happier than she had in a while.

As she pulled into the driveway she saw a stretched limo out the front of Gilda’s house. Off to one of her charity events, no doubt.

It wasn’t until she was walking along the path to the front door that she heard the footsteps behind her.

‘Ms Sanderson?’

‘Yes?’ She turned as the uniformed driver approached and it occurred to her that she’d felt none of that tingling alarm that had dogged her for so long.

‘Good evening.’ He took off his chauffeur’s cap. He was medium height with an easy smile and greying hair and he handed her his ID. ‘My name’s Max Fitzgerald and I’ve been asked to give you this package then wait until you’re
ready. I’m to transport you to your dinner meeting.’ He handed her a large flat box.

She frowned at the ID. He appeared to be who it said he was. Should she be suspicious? ‘I don’t have a dinner appointment,’ she said. ‘I bought a frozen meal on the way home.’

‘You didn’t receive a text message explaining?’

Oh? ‘I haven’t checked, I’ve been … busy …’ She fished in her handbag for her phone. The screen lit up at her touch and she opened the text.

Lissa, you can trust Max. It’s time we discussed moving on with the rest of our lives.

She recognised Blake’s number.

For a few stunned seconds she couldn’t move. Then her heart flipped over and dropped like a stone.
Now
he wanted to talk? Just when she was getting used to not having him around?

He probably had tenants waiting to lease the house and wanted her to vacate.
He wanted to get on with the rest of his life.

Or did he think that he could just turn up out of the blue and whistle—or text—and she’d come running? Other women might but not Lissa Sanderson. He couldn’t even be bothered inviting her personally to have this discussion or collecting her himself?

‘I’m not free tonight,’ she told Max, slipping
her phone back into her bag. ‘I’ll text him. Thanks, you can leave.’

‘He told me you might say that. He asked me to beg you to reconsider.’

‘I don’t—’

‘Please, Ms Sanderson.’ Max ran his fingers over the cap in his hand. ‘He asked me to get down on one knee if I had to and I’m getting too old for all that.’ His eyes lit with humour. ‘My joints aren’t what they used to be.’

Lissa stared at him. Blake had begged? Pleaded? He wanted to see her that badly? A glimmer of something like hope flickered inside her but she pushed it down. ‘There’s no need for that.’ She looked at the smooth, white, expensive-looking box in her hands. ‘Why don’t you come inside and I’ll just see what’s in this package.?’

‘I’ll wait in the vehicle, if that’s all right with you, ma’am. Take your time, I’ll be here till dawn.’

‘Dawn?’ Was he serious?

‘Mr Everett explained you like to party on occasion.’

‘Did he?’ she murmured. Obviously he thought she’d got on with her life. She didn’t know whether to be amused or offended. ‘Okay, Max. I’ll be sure to let you know my decision soon.’

The moment she was inside, Lissa pulled the
string off the box. Her heart raced as her fingers scrabbled through the mountain of tissue paper.

A slimline gown of the palest aquamarine. It shimmered in the light as she drew it out. Or maybe it was the tears that sprang to her eyes making it seem so.

‘Oh, my … goodness.’ She’d never seen anything more exquisite.

Her arms shook as she held it against her. It flowed to the floor like a slender stream of clear spring water. Shoestring straps and a low back that dipped to her waist.

As she raced upstairs to try it on she didn’t let herself think, dared not allow herself to hope.

M
AX
was out of the limo the moment she stepped through the front door twenty tension-fraught minutes later. ‘Very becoming,’ he said, nodding as she approached. ‘You look lovely.’

‘Thank you.’ She smoothed a hand down the slippery fabric. It fitted like a dream. She wondered if that was what this was. Just a dream. Like the ones she’d had so many years ago.

He reached into the vehicle and withdrew a small bouquet of creamy gardenias and presented them to her as he opened her door.

‘Oh …’ She inhaled their delicate green fragrance. ‘Thank you, again.’

She slid inside and set the flowers beside her on the soft leather seat. Through the speakers, Robbie was singing about angels. A bottle of champagne chilled in an ice-bucket beside a crystal flute.

‘Can I pour you a glass of champagne before we leave?’ Max asked.

‘Oh, no.’ She pressed a hand to her jittering stomach. ‘I really couldn’t.’

As they drew smoothly away from the kerb she tried to remember the last time she’d refused champagne. But right now her insides simply wouldn’t tolerate it. And she needed a clear head to face Blake.

This might seem like a dream but she couldn’t be sure it was the dream she wanted. Wouldn’t allow herself to think beyond the next step. According to his text, he was expecting them to have a discussion. Over dinner. Maybe he liked women to look sophisticated when he dined. Or maybe. She shook her head and looked out at the darkening tropical sky with its anvil thunder-heads building over the hinterland. She refused to contemplate any more maybes.

The journey took only a few minutes. At the Mooloolaba Marina she stepped into the deepening twilight, clutching her flowers and her bag.

Then Max was accompanying her through the security gate and towards a luxury yacht that dwarfed every other watercraft in the vicinity. Light spilled from the main deck and shimmered on the inky water. This wasn’t the simple sailing boat she’d seen in Blake’s brochure, even though that, too, had been a luxury in her eyes.

This was a floating palace. With its sleek white lines, it reminded her of a powerful beast waiting to be unleashed. She could visualise it
slicing through the water with Blake at the helm. And that was probably where he’d be tomorrow, or the next day when his business with her was concluded.

And then she saw him. On the deck. In slim-fitting dark trousers and a white shirt open at the neck with the cuffs rolled back. Her heart stopped, then beat at double time. Their gazes met. Held for what seemed like eternity while the water lapped and the foody aroma from the nearby waterside restaurants wafted on the air. She could do this. She could.

Still watching her, he walked down the gangplank towards her. She could have a civilised meal then walk away.

‘Good evening, Lissa.’

His tone was welcoming, if a little formal and, oh, how she’d missed that deep rich voice. But she could live without it. ‘Hello.’

He barely glanced at the chauffeur. ‘Thank you, Max. That’ll be all for now.’

He reached out and sifted his fingers through the hair curling over her shoulders. She had time to breathe in his musky scent before he stepped back.

‘Thank you for the dress. It’s beautiful.’

‘You make it so. And you’re welcome.’

He leaned forward, touched cool dry lips to her cheek. Smooth skin. He’d shaved recently and smelled sinfully good for such a chaste kiss.
She could feel the last of her strength draining out of her.

‘I hope you haven’t eaten already,’ he said, placing a warm palm at the small of her bare back to guide her onto the boat.

She almost sighed at the contact before arching away and quickening her steps. She looked at the luxury surrounding her. ‘This is a magnificent yacht.’

‘I sold off most of my investments to buy it.’

She stared up at the stern’s fibreglass U-shaped structure, which arched over a comfortable table setting with satin wicker chairs. Down-lights reflected on the table set for two with silver cutlery and white china. A candle glowed inside a tall glass.

Through a wide open doorway she could see a spacious living room. Thick blue carpet, polished wood and brass fittings, over-stuffed leather chairs and a bar with hidden lighting that sparkled with rows of bottles. ‘This is all too overwhelming. You’ve been gone a month and now.’

‘Twenty-six days, actually.’

She knew. Twenty-six days and thirteen hours.

A uniformed waiter appeared with a silver tray. Lissa recognised him from the catering company they’d used for the launch party.

‘Would you care for a prawn tail with wasabi and lemon sauce?’ Blake asked.

Her stomach writhed with nerves and nausea. She set her flowers on the table. ‘I won’t be dining with you. I came tonight because you went to such a lot of trouble to get me here, and I felt a little sorry for Max, but I need to know what you want. And I need to know now. Then I’ll be leaving. We won’t see each other again.’

Blake’s demeanour changed. His jaw tightened and she saw his fingers flex at his sides. So his night wasn’t going according to plan? Neither was hers.

He glanced at the waiter, waved him off. ‘Take a break, Nathan.’

Lissa took the opportunity to move to the railing and looked out over the myriad boats bobbing on the water. From that distance she made herself turn to face him. And, oh, she wished she didn’t have to because looking at him made her want to tell him things she knew he wouldn’t want to hear.

‘In your text you suggested moving on with our lives. I thought that’s what we were doing.’

‘I thought so too. Until a week ago.’

He took a step towards her but she held up a hand. ‘Don’t come any closer. Please, Blake.’ She latched onto the only reason she could think of. ‘You found someone to lease the house and you want me to vacate, right?’

He seemed to consider a moment. ‘It’s true, I want you to vacate the house.’ His eyes were
dark and steady on hers. ‘Because I want you to live here on this boat. With me.’

The simplicity of his words—and the shock—pinned her feet to the deck. She gripped the railing for support. He wanted her to live with him. But he wanted it all his way. He was suggesting what was essentially a convenient live-in arrangement. She’d been there, done that, had the restraining order to prove it. No one was going to use her as a convenience again.

‘We’ve played this scene before. I thought I already made it clear to you that I’m committed to my career—’

‘I love you, Lissa.’

‘That I—’

‘I don’t want to spend another day or another night without you.’

He took another step closer and this time she didn’t try to stop him. Because she was too busy trying to breathe. To stay upright. To process the implications of what he was saying.

‘And you think because you tell me you love me.’ she hitched in a breath as she said the words and tightened her grip on the railing ‘… I’ll give up all I’ve worked towards for you?’

‘No.’ His gaze reached out to her, holding her captive as he walked towards her. ‘I’m going to stay here, in Mooloolaba, because here is where you are.’

What little breath she had left rushed out. She sucked in more salt-laden air. ‘What happened to
feeling the sea breeze in your face and dropping anchor wherever you please?’

‘I thought that’s what I wanted. But now I know I want you more.’ He pushed a hand through his hair. ‘For God’s sake, Lissa, put me out of this hell I’m in and say yes. Tell me you love me back. Tell me what we had wasn’t just a fling.’

She looked up at him, his face taut in the spill of light. She’d never seen such raw vulnerability in his face before. She’d never seen his expression so. open. ‘I do love you,’ she said softly. ‘I always have and I always will. You were the one who always talked about leaving. And you were the one who called it a fling.’

‘I heard you talking to Jared.’

Oh. And she felt a small smile touch her lips momentarily. ‘Don’t you know not to eavesdrop on private conversations?’

‘Lissa …’

‘It was never a fling, not to me. No, don’t touch me.’ She stepped away from his outstretched hand. ‘Not yet. I want to know what made you come back.’

The haunted look she’d seen so often flickered behind his eyes. ‘I realised I wanted to live before they bury me.’

‘Torque …’

He nodded.

Then he didn’t give her time to move. He gathered her up into his arms and held her close
so she could hear his heart beating solidly beneath her ear. And she wanted to stay there in his safe and solid embrace for ever. He tucked her head beneath his chin and she knew he was looking out over the horizon.

‘I felt his soul leave his body, Lissa, as I dragged him across the sand. I still hear the gunfire sometimes.’

‘The nightmares …’ Lissa whispered. ‘You still have them.’

‘Not as often.’ He took a deep breath, stroked her hair. ‘He was only eighteen. Thousands of miles from home. He’d barely begun to live and he was dead already.’

‘I know.’ She curled her hand against his heart. ‘You need to learn to forgive yourself.’

‘I’m working on it. I went to visit Torque’s parents. They were so grateful there was someone with him when he passed. That he didn’t suffer. It’s helped. Both them and me.’

She nodded. ‘I’m glad.’

He was silent a moment while the breeze blew over the deck. ‘I came home to recuperate because I was looking for that familiarity I hadn’t experienced in so long.

‘I never expected to find you. A woman I could love. A love I can trust, a love I can give myself wholly to.’

Tears welled in her eyes and spilled over onto his shirt. He shifted so that he could cup
her head in his hands, tilt it up and look into her eyes. ‘A love that will last a lifetime.’

Her heart swelled to bursting. ‘Blake …’

‘I know you have your business and that I’m no longer a part of it, but that doesn’t mean I can’t be involved in some small way, does it?’

‘Of course you c—’

‘The marina’s a few minutes’ drive away from the shop. This yacht has more comfort and luxury than you’ve ever seen. You have Maddie and her team to help out now and then so when we want a weekend away we can just take off, up the coast, or down to Surfers to visit your family. The best of both worlds. The sea and, most importantly, you.’

Her thoughts were jumbled, spinning with the images he was conjuring with his words.

But he wasn’t finished. He stepped back and drew something out of his pocket. He flipped the little velvet box open. ‘Are you prepared to take on this scarred sailor who’ll probably wake you up with bad dreams some nights?’

‘Oh … I—’

‘Marry me, Lissa. Live with me for the rest of our lives. Be my life’s comfort and I’ll be yours.’

Through her tears she saw a ring with a solitary aquamarine flanked by a diamond on either side. ‘Oh … do you know how long I’ve waited to hear you ask that question?’ she whispered. ‘Fantasised where we’d be, how you’d ask? And
it was never as perfect as this. And the answer is yes. A thousand times yes.’

‘You’re the only girl for me, Lissa. And I’ll spend my life showing you.’ He slid it onto the third finger of her left hand. ‘A stone that captures the sea and the colour of your eyes. There’s something of both of us in it.’

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said softly. ‘I couldn’t have chosen anything better.’ She watched it glitter in the light, then turned to him with a smile that came from the deepest corner of her heart. ‘And now. are you going to seal this deal with a kiss?’

He smiled back and this time his amazing blue eyes were filled with sunshine and light. ‘Try stopping me.’

And, oh, she’d missed his luscious mouth on hers. The taste of him, the scent of him as he drew her closer. Finally, he drew back and she knew it was only because they’d both run out of air.

‘Now I want to show you your new home.’

He pulled his phone from his pocket. ‘Max? We won’t need your services for the rest of the night, thank you. Go home to bed.’ He disconnected with a serious gleam in his eye. ‘I intend to.’

Then he swept her up in his arms and carried her through the living room at a rate of knots. ‘We’ll do the more detailed tour later,’ he told her, barely raising a puff. He paused at the galley’s
entrance to tell Nathan he could leave, that they’d help themselves to the meal later.

Then on through another entertainment area with wide-screen TV and concealed lighting that gave the room a pink-purple glow. Up the low polished wooden spiral staircase in the centre. Past a bathroom and its moulded spa bath with clear Perspex sides and marble vanity.

Blake set her on her feet in front of a massive double bed with a deep indigo quilt. Finally. He had her right where he wanted her. She glanced about her. ‘I’ve got a really nice sketch that would suit this room. ‘

He could see her studying the décor with a trained eye. ‘I think it’s really you.’

‘Not now, sweet cheeks.’ He touched her chin and turned it so that she was looking at him. Only him. ‘Take the night off.’ His lips roamed her face while his hands moved over the delicate silk, reacquainting himself with her shape. Her fragrance. Her heat. ‘I’ve missed you,’ he murmured. It was a first for him. Hell, the whole evening had been about firsts.

He felt her smile against his mouth. ‘So what have you missed about me?’

He kissed her again, then cupped her cheeks and looked into those clear sea-green eyes. ‘I’ve missed your colour, your resilience. Your independence.’ He punctuated each with a kiss. ‘The way you listen when I talk, as if I matter. The
way you push me to open up because you give a damn.’

He saw her eyes spring with moisture and smoothed the dampness away with his thumbs.

‘I’ve even missed your chaos, believe it or not.’

‘I’ve been trying to do something about that,’ she whispered.

‘Don’t ever change. I love you just the way you are, feminine hygiene products on my bathroom shelf and all.’

He smoothed a hand over her breast so that he could feel her heart beating beneath his palm. ‘You made me realise I’ve been existing but I’ve not been living. I’ve been hiding behind my navy career, too afraid to take another chance on love.’