Page 62 of Masquerade

“I’ve never had a visitor there,” she replied almost inaudibly.

“Apart from Anna.” He wanted her to spell out the boundaries.

“Apart from Anna,” she agreed.

“Service centre it is then.” He was pissed off at himself for needing to be reminded they weren’t playing happily-ever-afters. His rule. But it also meant the cottage was important to her. She had needed or still needed a bolthole, and Rory had been claiming a closeness she’d never allowed. In silence, he drove another five kilometres and joined the line of vehicles seeking a haven from the storm.

Condensation clung to the windows of the service-station restaurant. Too much hot air combined with too many people breathing. Some with their noses pressed against the panes searching for a break in the weather. Liam sat opposite her at the end of a table she’d commandeered while he’d queued for miserable, lukewarm faux coffee.

He swallowed a mouthful. “Not great.”

“Anna’s expecting me.”

Another apology? He was irritated all over again that she thought she needed an excuse. Her cottage, her rules. “Is that a cack-handed way of telling me you don’t want to see me anymore?”

“We have different lives in Sydney.” She gripped her cup two-handed. Her eyes were wide, and he sensed shadows there. “We agreed when we first met we were both loners.”

“That was before we discovered we liked being alone together.” He coaxed a smile from her and tried to put a name to his feelings.Regret. Regret they didn’t have the kind of relationship where she’d confide her fears to him. “Weather’s easing. Let’s make a move.”

The storm had abated. Rain still hammered on the roof, but the windscreen wipers flicked it away faster than it landed. The wind gusts had dropped, and the silence in the car grew heavy. Liam could almost hear her thinking.

“What are your plans for tomorrow?” she asked.

“I’ll bring George up to speed and set the wheels in motion for a meeting with the Anti-Corruption Commission.” He could have been chatting with any colleague, and the disconnect between this conversation and her soft cries of pleasure in his arms was another regret. “What about you?”

“I’ve got a morning shift at the library. Then I’ll follow up on applications for exploration in that area.” She was talking work, and his mind rebelled.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night?” He pulled into the kerb at Anna’s apartment block, the compulsion to have a solid, nonwork plan to see her again making his gut churn.

She glanced sideways at him, her shy smile a reassurance. “I’d like that.”

Linking his fingers with hers, he pulled her closer.

“I’ll miss you tonight.” He pressed his lips to hers, and she opened with the generosity he’d come to crave in the last few days. Her eagerness reassured him. She wasn’t ready to say goodbye any more than he was.

“Me too,” she whispered.

“Take this.” Liam offered her a key card. “It’s to my apartment. I’ll organise takeaway. Seven o’clock suit you?”

“I don’t need a key.” She held up her hands.

“I might be delayed. Take it.” He closed her fingers around it. “You run for the front door. I’ll grab your bag from the boot and meet you on the steps. We’ll need to be fast if we don’t want to be drenched.” He slipped out his door.

She jogged to her front door, her long legs taunting him. They’d been wrapped around him this morning. He dropped her bag under the awning and groaned. Pulling her close, he pressed another hard kiss to her lips.

“We’re allowed to be friends, Kate.”And friends share. “Sweet dreams.”

Liam steered the rental back into the traffic, driving the few blocks to his building and into the underground car park on autopilot. She’d accused him of being a loner the night he’d first kissed her. Said she recognised him because she was a loner herself.

He hadn’t challenged her. Hadn’t said being alone had been collateral damage when he’d decided not to tell his brother about his father’s debts. Carrying his father’s secret had isolated him. Selina’s betrayal had dictated his rule about not fraternising with workmates. Although the need to work obscene hours to make ends meet had isolated him more.

Why would Kate describe herself as a loner?

Pushing open the door to his apartment, he dropped his bag. In the kitchen, he grabbed a Guinness, then stood looking through the full-length glass doors at his garden. This little oasis was his attempt to ease some of his frustration at losing his connection to the land. He swallowed a mouthful of his brew.

Grief at his father’s death had been his trigger to hunker down. Kate’s relationship with her parents sounded complicated, but she’d lived in a different city for years. Rory had mentioned her moving back. That meant that for a while at least, her bolthole had been her home.

“Let’s see what we find.” He settled in his kitchen nook and pulled his computer close. Her parents were easy to find. Active in Melbourne society, there were dozens of photos of them at opening nights for plays and movies and openings of art exhibitions. They sought the limelight. A striking couple, although the girls’ colouring and features came from their mother. He took a closer look. They had their father’s chin.

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