Born and bred in the middle of nowhere, a small North Queensland sugar town, Jude sometimes thought he might be able to get used to that kind of life. He hadn’t studied as hard as he had to be a loser. His much loved Dad had been so proud of him. But then he had to confront a formidable truth. He saw no real possibility of ever selling his soul no matter the rewards.
The only way out for him was if Poppy got interested in someone else and the sooner the better. He realised however hard he worked, however smart he was supposed to be, it wasn’t beyond Gooding to turn on him at a moment’s notice and engineer his dismissal from the firm. Leonard Gooding was a shark.
Jude walked restlessly to the panoramic plate-glass window that overlooked the broad sweep of the River City. At this time of the afternoon the impressive steel and glass commercial towers were turned to columns of gold by the slanting rays of the sun. Any self-respecting shrink could diagnose his deeply ingrained resistance to matrimony as the by-product of his childhood. His mother had abandoned the best and kindest man in the world, his father. She’d abandoned him, her only child. That single event had influenced his entire mode of thinking.
“My gorgeous boy!”
That was the way she’d used to greet him. What a joke! It depressed him to even think about it. She’d never meant it at all. She was only acknowledging that physically he’d taken after her. He’d been a bright kid going on twelve, thinking all was right with his world, when she took off for the beckoning horizons. He only found out years later when his father finally told him the whole pathetic story, that his mother had gone away with a rich American tourist who had been holidaying at the luxury hotel where she was receptionist. His mother in those days was a knock-out. She was probably still able to turn heads with her golden blond hair, big melting blue eyes and luscious figure. According to his all-forgiving father no man could be blamed for falling in love with Jude’s mother, Sally. Sally was perfect.
It took Jude years to come to the realisation that when it came to his mother, his father had been one gullible fool. Even as a kid he’d been edgily aware that his mother who the gang he hung around with described as “hot” was a habitual flirt. She gave off allure like a body scent. Probably the rich Texan hadn’t been her first affair. At the time his father told him his mother needed a more exciting life. The town was a rural backwater.
“Sally wants a real taste of life. She’s so beautiful! She deserves more than I can give her.”
Did that excuse being unfaithful? Jude didn’t think so. His father had let himself be seen as dull and boring when the fact was he had been a clever, industrious, respected town lawyer. He loved books, revered literature. He loved music, too, classical, jazz, opera and he adored big game fishing. He had such a great sense of humour. Much as Jude’s father had grieved, extraordinarily he’d never held a grudge against his wife.
Jude did. Unlike his father he’d never wished his mother all the best. He and his father had been betrayed and Jude had learned the lesson that women weren’t to be trusted. They cheated on their husbands. If they didn’t get what they wanted, they moved on. If his father continued to love his mother until the day he died, Jude took the opposite stand. He might be thought hard and judgmental, but he hated her for sucking all the life out of his father who died soon after Jude made it into the firm. His father had flown to Brisbane so they could have a celebratory dinner together. He’d been so proud, telling Jude before he left, his dearest wish was that Jude would have a much better life than he had.
“Find the right girl. Marry her. Give me grandchildren. You’re the one who always kept me going, Jude. I’ve lived for you, son. You’ve done me proud.”
Trying to make his father proud was what had given him the edge, driven him to succeed. Then his father up and died on him. At least he’d been doing what he loved—big game fishing. He and a couple of his life-long pals were out on Calypso when a freak electrical storm hit. The waves, reportedly, had been huge. His father and one of his friends had been washed overboard. Both perished in the Coral Sea. Despite a wide search their bodies had never been found.
How I miss him! Jude thought, grief locked deep inside him. The town had given him all the sympathy in the world when he flew home for the memorial service. He and his dad had always been popular. He was the local boy made good. Now that he had a real chance of making it up to his dad for all his sacrifices his dad wasn’t around. Successful as he’d become the loss of his father shadowed Jude’s life. There’s no end to love in the human heart; no end to grief when love is lost.
Bobbi, Jude’s secretary tapped lightly on his door, breaking up his melancholy reflections.
“Manage to get rid of her?” Her hazel eyes were full of wry humour. Bobbi was petite, attractive, power dressed and happily engaged. Since he’d been with the firm she’d proved a real friend and a great legal secretary, loyal, thorough and accurate. He got on well with her sports reporter fiancé, Bryan as well.
“Don’t look so damned happy,” Jude groaned. “It was really, really hard.” He moved back to his desk. “Poppy Gooding has deluded herself into thinking she fancies me.”
“And how!” Bobbi choked on a laugh. “I nearly had cardiac arrest when she shoved past me. She mightn’t look like Leonard—she must get down on her knees every night and thank the Lord for it—but she’s a bulldozer just like him. She only wants you for your body, friend.”
“Why the heck me?” he asked in extreme irritation.
He really means it, Bobbi thought. Jude Conroy, every girl’s dream! A drop-dead gorgeous hunk with those dreamy, dreamy blue eyes! He even had a fan club in the building. If she and Bryan weren’t destined for each other Bobbi thought she’d have thrown her own cap in the ring.
“Want me to put around the rumour you’re gay?” she asked drolly.
He shot her a sharp glance that softened into his white lopsided grin. It made even the faithful Bobbi’s heart execute a little dance. If he wanted to, Jude could star in a toothpaste commercial.
“I doubt that would stop Poppy. She’d think she was the one girl who could turn a man around. What I need right now is a vacation.”
His cell phone rang when he was walking to his car later that afternoon. It was Bobbi on the line, her voice flustered.
“Listen, I just had a guy on the phone, kind of snarly sort of guy I bet kicks his dog, severely put out you weren’t here—name of Ralph Rogan. Says you know him. Wants to speak to you ASAP. Sounded like you were sleeping with his wife. I told him you were due for an important meeting that should break up around four. Number is—your part of the world curiously—got a pen?”
“Give it to me, I’ll remember.”
She laughed. “Jude, you’re a human calculator.”
“Right.” He had a special thing with numbers. Even as a kid he’d been able to add up stacks of them in his head not that kids used those skills anymore. Bobbi gave it to him and from the area code he immediately identified his area of Far Northern Queensland. He didn’t need any introduction to Ralph. Ralph Rogan was the son of the richest man in his home town of Isis and one of the richest men in the tropical north. Jude’s dad had been Lester Rogan’s solicitor and close confidant. Rogan Senior had trusted no one except Jude’s father. Jude and Ralph had gone to school together but they had never been friends. More like adversaries. The hostility was an on-going state of affairs exacerbated by Ralph’s “problems” with his domineering father. Rogan Senior had wanted and expected his son to shine, to come out on top. Ralph never had. Even as a boy he’d been to use Bobbi’s word, “snarly,” a bully who traded on the fact his father practically owned the town and huge tracts of land for development. It had to be something serious for Ralph to get on the phone to Jude. As soon as the meeting was over he’d place a call.
Piercing screams woke him, screams that echoed around the mansion. The minute Ralph