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CHAPTER ELEVEN

TARA lay in bed, slowly nibbling on one of the dry biscuits she’d put beside the bed the night before. Hopefully, they would make her feel well enough to rise shortly and go for a walk on the beach.

Yesterday, she’d stayed in bed most of the day before going for a walk. But then yesterday she’d been desperately tired.

Today she’d woken more refreshed, but still nauseous. Hence the biscuits.

It had been good of Kate to give her some, no questions asked. Although there’d been a slight speculative gleam in her eyes as she’d handed Tara the plate of biscuits after dinner last night.

But that was Kate all over. The woman was kind and accommodating without being a sticky-beak, all good qualities for anyone who ran a bed and breakfast establishment. Tara had met her a few years ago when she’d stayed here at Kate’s Place with some of her uni friends. It was popular with students because it had been cheap and conveniently located, only a short stroll to Wamberal Beach.

When she’d been thinking of where she could go and be by herself for a while, Tara had immediately thought of Kate’s Place. Wamberal was not far away from Sydney—an hour and a half’s drive north—but far enough away that she would feel secure that she wouldn’t run into Max, or anyone who knew Max.

So on Thursday night she’d taken a taxi to Hornsby railway station, then a train to Gosford, then another taxi to Wamberal Beach. Rather naively, in a way. What would she have done if Kate had sold the place in the years since she’d stayed there? Or if she didn’t have any spare rooms to rent?

Fate had been on her side this time and whilst Kate had gone more upmarket—renaming her refurbished home Kate’s Beachside B & B—she had still been in the room-renting business, although the number of rooms available had been reduced to three.

Fortunately, all of them were vacant. The end of February, whilst still summer, was not peak tourist season. On top of that she’d stopped advertising, not wanting to be full all of the time.

‘I’m getting old,’ she’d complained as she showed Tara upstairs. ‘But I’d be bored if I stopped having people to stay altogether. And terribly lonely. Still, I might have to give it away when I turn seventy next year. Or give in and hire a cleaner.’

Tara had selected the bedroom at the front of the two-storeyed home, which had a lovely view of the beach as well as an en suite bathroom. No way did she want to have to race down hallways to a communal bathroom first thing in the morning.

True to form, Kate hadn’t asked her any questions on her arrival, although Tara had spotted some concern in the elderly woman’s eyes. She supposed it was rare for a guest to show up, unannounced and un-booked, at ten-thirty at night. Tara’s excuse that it was a spur-of-the-moment impulse had probably not been believed.

But Kate at least appreciated that she was an adult with the right to come and go as she pleased, something Tara wished other people recognised. She was not a child who had to be directed. She did have a mind of her own and she was quite capable of making decisions, provided she was given the time to work out what was best for herself, and the baby.

Impossible to even think at home at the moment with her mother criticising and nagging all the time. Jen wasn’t much better. She seemed to have forgotten how emotional and irrational she was when she found out she was pregnant.

Of course, Tara would not have bolted quite so melodramatically if Max hadn’t been on his way. Max of the ‘we should work this out together’ mode.

Huh! Tara knew what that meant. Max, taking total control and telling her what to do.

From what she’d seen, Max had no idea how to truly work together with anyone or anything. Max ordered and people obeyed.

She’d been obeying him for twelve months.

But not any more.

The time had come for mutiny.

Her first step had been to put herself beyond his reach. Which she had. And, to be honest, taking that action had felt darned good. Clearly, she’d been harbouring more resentment than she realised over Max’s dominant role in their relationship.

Not so good was the niggling remorse she felt over her mother. By last night guilt had begun to override her desperate need for peace and privacy. She would have to ring her mother today. It wasn’t fair to leave her worrying.

And she would be worrying. Tara had no doubt of that.

A firm tap-tap on her bedroom door had Tara calling out that she was coming before gingerly swinging her feet onto the floor and standing up. As she reached for the silky housecoat she’d brought with her, she was pleased to find her stomach hadn’t heaved at all when she got to her feet. Those biscuits seemed to have done the trick.

But still, she didn’t hurry, taking her time as she padded across the floral rug which covered most of the polished floorboards. Kate’s décor leant towards old world, but Tara liked it.

She opened the door to find Kate standing there with a newspaper in her hands and a worried look on her face.

‘Yes?’ Tara asked.

Kate didn’t say a word. She just handed the newspaper to Tara. It was opened and folded back at page three.

Tara went cold all over as she stared down at the full-page photograph of herself, an enlargement of the one she knew Max kept in his wallet. It had been taken on one of their first dinner dates, at a restaurant where a photographer went around and snapped photos of people who were likely to buy them as mementos. Targeted were groups partying there for special occasions, plus romantic couples possibly celebrating their engagements, or just their love for each other.

Tara could see the happiness shining out of her eyes in that photograph. She doubted her eyes would reflect the same emotion at that moment.

Her teeth clenched hard in her jaw as she glared down at the words written across the bottom of the photograph.

Tara, your loved ones are worried about you. Please call home. If anyone knows Tara’s whereabouts, contact the following number for a substantial reward.

Tara’s head shot up. ‘Please don’t tell me you rang it. That’s not my home phone number. It belongs to my boyfriend.’

‘Not me, love. But Milly Jenson did. My busybody neighbour. She must have had a good look at you when you went out walking yesterday afternoon. I think her conscience finally got the better of her and she came and told me what she’d done. Either that, or she was indulging in more mischief-making. Either way, I thought you’d want to know.’

‘I certainly do. Thanks, Kate,’ she said, her head whirling with the news Max was on his way up here.

‘Boyfriend, eh? Not one you’ll be wanting to see again, I’ll warrant. Do you want me to drive you anywhere, love? I can get you away from here before he arrives. Milly gave him this address over an hour ago, so he could be arriving any time soon.’

Tara thought about running away again, then decided there was little point. Wherever she went, someone would spot her and call Max and that would be that. Her stand-out looks had always been a curse. Oh, how she would have preferred to be less striking. Less tall. Less blonde!

She shook her head as she stared down again at the photograph in the paper.

‘Thank you, Kate, but no. I’ll talk to him when he arrives. But not here. I have no intention of meekly staying here till he arrives. I’ll get dressed right now and go for a walk on the beach. You can point him in that direction when he arrives. OK?’

‘Only OK if he’s no danger to you, love. He hasn’t been beating you up, has he?’

‘Good lord, no! Max would never do anything like that. But as you might have gathered he’s very rich. And used to getting his own way. He’s also the father of my baby. I’m pregnant, Kate.’

‘Yes, so I gathered, love. That’s a popular old remedy, eating dry biscuits when you’re suffering from morning sickness. As soon as you asked me for them, I guessed.’

‘You didn’t say anything.’

‘Not my place. I keep my nose out of other people’s private business. Except when it comes to arrogant members of the opposite sex. One of the reasons I never married was because I couldn’t stand it when men thought they could run my life. Oh, yes, I had quite a few suitors when I was younger. All wanting me to marry them, especially the ones I slept with. One became very insistent once he found out I was having his baby. More than insistent. Violent, actually. As if I would ever marry a man who hit me. Or inflict such a father on an innocent child.’

Tara’s mouth had dropped open slightly at these astonishing revelations. But it seemed Kate was not yet finished baring her soul, or her rather adventurous past.

‘If it had been more acceptable back in my day, I would have chosen to be a single mother. But I didn’t. I did something else, love, something I’ve always bitterly regretted. Girls these days have so many options. So don’t do what I did, love. You have your baby and to hell with what this man says or wants. He can’t be much of a man if you ran away from him like that.’

‘He’s not a bad man,’ Tara said. ‘Or a violent one. He’s just…domineering.’

‘Does he want you to have an abortion?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘Mmm…Does he love you?’

She frowned down at the photograph, then nodded. ‘Yes. I think he does. As much as he is capable of loving.’

‘He sounds a bit mixed up.’

‘You know what, Kate, I think he is. Yet he’s very successful. And filthy rich.’

‘And wickedly handsome, no doubt,’ Kate said drily.

‘Oh, yes. That too.’

Kate pulled a face. ‘They always are. I’ll see what I think of him when he arrives, then I’ll put him through the third degree before I tell him where you’ve gone. Would you mind if I did that?’

Tara had to laugh. ‘Not at all. Do him good.’

‘Right. You hurry and get yourself dressed now. And take one of the sunhats from off the pegs by the front door. Put your hair up under it. And pop some sunglasses on. Otherwise you’ll have everyone on the beach who’s seen this photograph in this morning’s paper running home to call that number.’

‘I’ll do that. And Kate…’

‘Yes?’

‘Thank you. You’ve been very kind. And wonderfully understanding.’

Kate smiled a surprisingly mischievous smile. ‘We girls have to stick together.’

Max stomped over the sand, disbelieving of what that woman had just put him through before telling him where Tara was. Anyone would think he was a murderer instead of a man in love, trying to do the right thing!

His gaze scanned the various semi-naked bodies sprawled over the warm sand. None of them was Tara. He would recognise her in a heartbeat. He headed for the water’s edge and stood there, searching for her tell-tale head of fair hair amongst the swimmers. Not there, either.

A rogue wave suddenly washed further up the beach than the others, totally soaking his expensive Italian loafers.

Max swore.

Still, ruining a pair of shoes was the least of his worries at that moment. Where was Tara? Had that old tartar lied to him? Was Tara at this very moment on her way somewhere else?

Max’s stomach began to churn. And then he saw her, further down the wide arch of beach, paddling along the water’s edge, coming towards him.

It wasn’t her hair which revealed her identity. Her long blonde mane was out of sight underneath a large straw hat. It was her legs which gave her away. Not many girls had legs like Tara’s.

She was wearing shorts. Denim, with frayed edges. And a red singlet top. No bra, he noticed as she drew closer.

The automatic stirring of his body annoyed him. This was not why he had come. Tara already knew he wanted her sexually. He had to convince her that he wanted her for much more than that.

Willing his flesh back under control, he marched towards her, determined not to let desire distract him. For he suspected if it did, he was doomed to failure. And failure was not something Max could cope with today. His mission was to win Tara back, not lose her. Instinct warned him that making love to her in any way, shape or form would lose her for sure. His job was to convince her that he would make a good husband and father, not just a good lover.

Tara had spotted Max some time back, but she gave no signal to him, watching surreptitiously as he’d made his way with some difficulty across the soft sand. He was hardly dressed for the beach in grey dress trousers and a long-sleeved white silk shirt, even though the shirt was rolled up at the sleeves and left open at the neck.

It had amused her when the wave washed over his shoes. She wasn’t so amused now as he hurried towards her. Most annoying was the way her body went into full foreplay mode at his approach. Her heartbeat quickened. Her nipples hardened. Her belly tightened. All in anticipation of his touch.

Disgusting, she thought. Deplorable!

Delicious, another darker, more devilish part of her brain whispered.

She sighed. Clearly, she still had to be careful with him. Her sexual vulnerability remained high.

Of course, if this was a romantic movie, both of them would suddenly break into a run and throw themselves into each other’s arms. They would kiss, the music would soar and THE END would come up on the screen.

But this was not a movie. It was real life with real people and real issues. Serious relationship problems were never solved with one kiss. Making love was a masking agent, not a lasting solution.

No way was she going to let him touch her. Not today, anyway.

‘Max,’ she said drily when he was close enough.

Thankfully, he ground to a halt outside of grabbing and kissing distance. Though was it Max doing that which worried her the most? Or her own silly self?

‘So you found me,’ she added, and crossed her arms. Not only did the action demonstrate he wasn’t all that welcome, but it also hid her infernal nipples.

‘With some difficulty,’ came his sharp return.

Clearly, he was not in a good mood. Kate must have given him heaps. But not as much as she was going to give him.

‘I don’t know how you can say that. One little—or should I say not so little?—photograph in the paper, with the added incentive of a reward, and Bob’s your uncle, you had your man.’

His gaze ran down her body then up again. ‘No one in their wildest dreams, Tara, would call you a man.’

Tara pulled a face at him. ‘You know, it must be wonderful to have enough money to buy anything you want.’

His eyes searched hers, as though he was weighing up her attitude. Her sarcastic tone had to be telling him something.

‘You’re still angry with me,’ he said. ‘And you have every right to be. I didn’t handle your news the other night at all well.’

‘No. You certainly didn’t.’

‘There again, you didn’t give me much opportunity to make things right by hanging up on me and then running away. That was hardly fair, Tara. Even you have to agree your news was a shock. I was not prepared for it.’

‘Tough. I did what I had to do. For me.’

‘And have you come to any decisions during your time alone?’

‘Would you mind if we walk while we talk?’

Tara just started walking, forcing him to fall into step beside her.

‘I’d prefer to go sit somewhere private together.’

I’ll just bet you would, she thought ruefully. Before she knew it he would be kissing her and she’d either go to mush, or hit him. Neither prospect pleased her. This was her chance to show him that she would not live her life on his terms. Seeing him in the flesh again, however, had brought home to her that he still wielded great power over her. She had to be very careful. And very strong.

‘I’m hardly dressed for the beach, Tara,’ he pointed out. ‘I’m ruining my shoes for starters.’

‘You chose to come up here, Max. I didn’t make you. Take off your shoes, if you’re worried about them. And roll up your trousers.’

To her astonishment, he did just that. Unfortunately, it made her even more physically aware of him. Being pregnant didn’t seem to have dampened her desires one iota. If anything, she craved Max’s lovemaking even more. How contrary could you get?

‘I called your mother,’ he said when they started walking again. ‘Told her I’d found you. Joyce said to tell you to believe me when I say that I would never have tried to talk you into an abortion.’

Any relief Tara felt over this news was overshadowed by shock, and anger. She ground to a halt and spun in the sand to face him.

‘Joyce? Since when did you call my mother Joyce? And since when has she started taking your side?’

‘Since we had a good chat yesterday morning.’

Tara laughed. A dry, knowing laugh. ‘I get it. You told Mum you were prepared to marry me and she melted. That’s the be-all and end-all with Mum. Marriage.’

‘You make it sound like a crime.’

‘It is if you marry for all the wrong reasons.’

‘You think my loving you is a wrong reason?’

Tara found it increasingly difficult to hold her temper. ‘You’ve told me you love me. But not one mention of marriage. So why now? As if I don’t know. You’ve decided you want your child. You’re getting older and it’s suddenly come home to you that maybe an heir in your image and likeness would be a very nice thing to have, along with a silly, besotted wife who thinks the sun shines out of your bum and who’ll wait around for you for weeks at a time, no questions asked.’

‘Now wait a minute!’

‘No, you wait a minute. It’s your turn to do the waiting, buster.’

An angry colour slanted across his cheekbones, and his hands tightened their grip on his shoes.

But he stayed tactfully silent, allowing her the opportunity to say what was on her mind. And there was plenty!

‘You must have thought you were on to a good thing this past year. You never explained and I never complained. Of course, things weren’t absolutely perfect for you. Whilst I’m sure it was exciting and ego-stroking at first to have a virgin in your bed—something tells me you hadn’t had the pleasure of one of those before!—I didn’t quite have the confidence you would have liked. Till last weekend. After which, suddenly, I was being invited to travel with you.’

‘That’s not true!’ he protested.

‘Of course it’s true! I’ve finally grown up, Max. I don’t see you through rose-coloured glasses any more. I can even appreciate your reasoning. Why go to the trouble of finding suitable one-night stands in whatever city you were in, when you could take the new me with you for the price of a plane ticket?’

She saw his eyes darken, but she hadn’t finished.

‘Even better was the fact that I had the makings of such a cheap mistress. A dress here and there. The odd outing. Some champagne and you’d be In Like Flynn.’

‘Now, hold it right there!’ he ground out. ‘Firstly, I was never unfaithful to you. Not once. Secondly, I never thought of you as my mistress. I always meant to marry you, Tara. When the time was right.’

‘Really? And when would that have been?’

‘When I was less busy and you were older. My asking you to travel with me was a compromise. I was afraid of losing you. Just as I’m afraid of losing you now. Losing you and our baby.’

It shocked Tara, his admitting to such emotions. Max, the macho man, was not given to admitting that he was afraid of losing anything. But then she realised his confessing such fears was his way of not losing. His words were designed to weaken her resolve, to make her do what he wanted, as usual.

‘I love you, Tara,’ he went on. ‘I’ve loved you from the beginning. I know I told you I didn’t want marriage and children, and I meant it at the time. But things have changed. You’re going to have my baby.’

‘Yes, Max, I am. And yes, things have changed. But you haven’t. You’re still the same Max I met. The same exciting, successful, ambitious, ruthless man. Just look at what you did to find me. What kind of man does something like that?’

‘The kind you fell in love with. But you’re wrong, Tara. I can change. I’ve already started.’

‘How? I see no evidence of it.’

‘Come back to Sydney with me and I’ll show you.’

‘No.’

His head jerked back, blue eyes shocked. ‘No?’

‘No. That’s part of your problem, Max. People jump to do your bidding far too much. I’ve been way too accommodating where you’re concerned. I’ve always done what you wanted. Now you can do what I want for a change.’

‘Tell me and I’ll do it,’ he stated boldly.

And rather recklessly, Tara thought. No way would he agree to what she was about to demand. But it would be interesting to see how he tried to wriggle out of it.

‘All right. Go home, collect some beach clothes and come back up here. Kate will rent you a room. Stay here, with me, for a week. Separate rooms. No sex. We’ll spend quality time together, but we’ll just talk.’

Tara was quietly confident he would never just drop his business commitments like that.

‘It’s a deal,’ he said.

Tara blinked in shock, but reserved her judgement till he actually followed through.

‘What happens at the end of the week?’ he asked.

‘I’ll let you know…at the end of the week.’

‘That doesn’t seem fair.’

‘I’m not going to explain and you’re not to complain. You are just to do what I want, when I want.’

‘But no sex.’

‘Absolutely no sex.’

‘Mmm. Are you sure you can handle that?’

Her chin lifted. ‘No trouble,’ she lied.

‘I will only agree to those conditions if, at the end of the week, I get to take you out to dinner, then back to bed for the night. The whole night. In the same bed.’

‘Why does there have to be a catch?’

‘Darling, there’s always a catch. There’s no such thing as a free lunch, or a free week of total slavery and submission. Which is what you’re asking for. I know you want me to prove to you that I love you. That I don’t want you just for sex. Fine. I’m happy to do that. But then I want the chance to show you that I do love you. My way.’

Tara’s heart turned over. She knew, once she was in his arms again, that all her new resolves would weaken. She had one week to achieve all she wanted to achieve. One week to make Max see that the only way they could be truly happy was if he offered her a genuine partnership, not just a ring on her finger.

‘You sure have developed a way with words all of a sudden,’ she tossed back at him. ‘We’ll see if you can keep it up for a week.’

He laughed. ‘I’ll have no trouble keeping it up. Especially if you go round looking like that all the time.’

Tara flushed. ‘If you try to seduce me, Max, you’ll be sorry.’

‘You don’t know who you’re talking to, honey. This is the boy who went for three days without food. Going without sex couldn’t be as hard as that. Oops. Scratch that word hard and replace it with difficult.’

Tara frowned at him. This was the first time he’d spoken of himself when he was a boy. That was something she would get him to do during the next week. Open up to her about his childhood. Intimacy was not just about sex, but also about knowing all there was to know about your partner.

‘Why did you go without food?’

‘Mum was raising funds for some charity. She spent half her life doing that. This time, she got us kids involved. Stevie found sponsors who paid various amounts for his reading books. I think he read eighty-five books. I chose to starve. Got paid a fortune for every day I went without food. Much easier than reading. I hate reading.’

‘Nothing’s changed in that regard,’ Tara said drily. ‘You don’t have any decent books at the penthouse. Just boring stuff about business and sport. You don’t know what you’re missing, Max. Reading is a fabulous past-time. I’ll read you some good books this week whilst we lie on the beach. Kate has a wonderful selection of best-sellers.’

Max winced.

‘Having second thoughts already?’ Tara said in a challenging tone.

‘Definitely not,’ he replied. And smiled.

Tara wasn’t sure she liked that smile. There was something sneaky about it.

‘I’d better get going if I’m to get back today,’ he said.

‘You only have to pack a few clothes.’

‘And make a few phone calls. I have to let Pierce know where I’ll be, for one thing.’

‘If you take or make one business phone call during your week up here, Max, the deal’s off.’

Max suspected she was bluffing, but he had to admire her stance. Tara didn’t realise it but he would never marry a mealy-mouthed woman, or one who kowtowed to him all the time. Most of his life, he’d been pursued by women who indulged his every desire, in bed and out of it. He liked it that Tara was finally standing up to him; that she was so strong. She was going to make a wonderful wife and mother.

His eyes softened on her. ‘Fair enough. I’ll leave my mobile at home.’ With his father. Do the old man good to have to make some business decisions. Probably perk him up no end. But not as much as that physio he’d hired yesterday to come in every day and work those atrophied muscles. Max had stayed with his parents all day Friday, inspiring both of them with their new role as grandparents-to-be, leaving them looking younger than when he arrived. ‘I’ll be back before you can say Jack Robinson.’

‘Don’t speed,’ she warned him. ‘I’d like our child to have a live father, not a memorial in some cemetery.’

‘Right. No speeding. Any other instructions? Or rules?’

Her head tipped to one side and her lips pursed.

God, how he would love to just slide his hands around that lovely long neck of hers and kiss that luscious mouth till it was soft and malleable. Till she was soft and malleable.

Instead, he had to stand there and play at being a sensitive, new-age guy. Not a role Max aspired to. He had definite ideas about male roles in life, and wishy-washy wimp was not one of them. He could not wait for this week to be over. Already he was looking forward to the following Saturday night.

‘None that I can think of at the moment,’ she said. ‘But I’ll have a written list by the time you return.’

Max blinked. My God, she meant it. Maybe he shouldn’t marry her at all. Strong, he liked. But a bossy-boots nag was another story.

What she needed, of course, was a night in bed. With him. Those rock-like nipples said something else to the words coming out of her mouth. By the time this week was up, he wouldn’t be the only one having cold showers.

But he could be patient, if the rewards were worth it. What better reward could there be than to have Tara back in his arms once more, right where she belonged?