His father had been no better at the parenting game. Predictably he’d tired of the marriage and lived a separate life under this very roof. But by some miracle they’d conceived Blake. What a joke.
He’d learned early on not to depend on others for emotional or any other kind of support. Janine had reinforced that learning in his late teens. Love equals vulnerability.
Women looking for more than the casual date soon discovered he wasn’t that kind of guy. As long as they were on the same wavelength he was happy to indulge whatever games they wanted to play, but the moment he got a glimpse of those stars in their eyes he was off.
And now there was Lissa.
Too young, too inexperienced, too-delicate Lissa. He hadn’t missed the flicker of real fear in her eyes when he’d backed her up against the wall just now and guilt sat uncomfortably alongside the roiling in his gut.
Definitely off-limits to guys like him.
The strip of golden sand was strewn with shells, driftwood and dead palm leaves where the rainforest met the sea. The heavy pounding at the back of his skull was gunfire and the sound of his boots on the hard-packed sand.
Blake looked over his shoulder.
Torque crouched on the sand, frozen.
Blake dodging bullets. Dragging him across the beach. Torque’s cry as he fell, knocking him off balance. Rocks coming up to meet him as he fell.
‘Blake. Blake, wake up.’
He jerked awake like a panic-stricken diver out of oxygen. Lissa’s voice, her tone calm but firm and instantly grounding. A wave of relief flooded over him as his eyes blinked open. Ghostly light from the muted TV screen lit the living room.
He was on the couch and she was perched on the arm rest, watching him with concern in those pretty eyes. He remembered coming out here, unable to find sleep in the study.
Relief quickly turned to a storm of humiliation and he started to lift his head, which felt like a ripe watermelon. How long had she been watching him?
‘You okay?’
Her cool light fingers on his brow both soothed and embarrassed. A bloody rerun of last night.
He pushed her arm away. ‘Yeah.’ His mouth was dust dry. He didn’t know if it was the result of being caught napping or the sight of her in nothing but that wispy white nightdress. In the TV’s soft glow he could see the outline of her nipples against the sheer fabric.
He closed his eyes and imagined diving back into the cool, dark ocean.
‘Are you still in pain?’
His eyes blinked open again. She was looking at his pack of prescription painkillers on the coffee table.
‘No.’ Not the kind of pain you’re referring to. ‘I’m fine.’
‘You didn’t sound fine.’
He swore silently to himself. Had he called out? Made an idiot of himself? Ignoring the vague residual dizziness, he pushed up, set his feet on the floor and said, ‘How was the party? I didn’t hear you come in.’ He hadn’t realised how he felt about her enjoying herself until he heard the sarcastic edge to his voice.
‘If you didn’t go, you’ll never know.’ She passed him a tumbler of water. ‘Seems like you need this more than I do.’
He gulped half of it down, returned the glass to her. ‘Thanks.’
Obviously in no hurry to go upstairs, she curled her feet beneath her and sipped at the water. ‘Something horrible happened to bring you back to Oz after all this time. I’ve been wondering what.’
Right now he wondered the same thing about his choice of location to recuperate. He could have gone to Acapulco or Hawaii. Found some warm and willing local girl to recuperate with. But for some reason he’d yet to fathom, because it certainly wasn’t for the love of family, he’d decided to return to Australia.
Bad things happened but he didn’t want to talk about it. Not with the party girl who saw the world through a rainbow prism. What the hell would she know about real life? How could she ever understand what he did or why he did it? Nor did he want her to know. God knew, he wanted to protect her from all that.
And yet … he’d never had someone like Lissa interested enough in his life to ask. Maybe because he’d never been around a woman long enough. A strange warm sensation settled somewhere in the region of his heart.
‘I’m not going to pretend I didn’t hear you in your sleep. Post-traumatic stress isn’t something to be ashamed of. Perhaps I could help,’ she finished softly.
‘Post-traumatic stress?’ A rough laugh rasped up his throat. ‘You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. I get the occasional migraine, so what?’ He pushed off the couch and headed for the stairs.
‘Maybe you should let others do some looking out for you for a change,’ she said behind him.
He reached the first step, didn’t stop. ‘With you around why would I need to?’
LISSA barely paused to breathe in the front garden’s tropical scents as she stepped outside. The warm Mooloolaba morning wrapped around her but she barely noticed. A gazillion thoughts were running through her mind—not Blake and that kiss that had turned her inside out last night.
Although she did spare more than a passing thought for his nightmares. His haunted groans in the dark of night had chilled her to the bone. But unless and until he was willing to talk, what could she do? She shook her head. And he’d called her stubborn?
So for now Blake’s living room was top priority. The living room was her focus. She had furniture and soft furnishings to select and order, paint to choose.
But she glanced down at the unfamiliar sharp staccato on the paved garden path and slowed to admire her sassy red sling-backs. Nice. They brought a smile to her lips. She’d not bought a thing for over three months. Even if they were only bargain basement, they were shiny and brand spanking new.
‘Lissa.’
She heard her name spoken in that deep sexy drawl and saw Blake coming through the front gate. No sign of last night’s terrors in those azure eyes. As he jogged across the lawn towards her every other thought flew out of her mind.
She came to a halt, her pulse doing a blip at the blinding sight of all that exposed bronzed skin. His upper arms gleamed with sweat, his navy blue vest-top was dark and damp. Short shorts revealed tanned, toned muscular thighs peppered with dark masculine hair.
Last night he’d pressed those thighs against hers.
She forgot she was on a mission. Forgot she had no time to waste, no time to linger over mere distractions. Even if the distraction was Blake Everett, with his musky scent wafting towards her. He looked like some sort of divine being sent from above. She blew out a heartfelt breath. Her shoes weren’t the only things worth a second look around here.
‘Wait up, I’m coming with you.’ He was watching her as he approached and she knew by the way his eyes suddenly darkened that he was thinking about last night too. You ‘re not ready for what I’d like to do to you.
Until he’d walked off.
Dragging her gaze away, she lifted her chin. His loss. ‘No time,’ she told him. She didn’t want him with her, reminding her of whatever shared delights he’d decided she wasn’t ready for and taking her mind off what she needed to buy. She keyed the remote to raise the roller door, then unlocked her car and tossed her bag on the front passenger