Runaway Bride Read online

  They hurried up the beach and up the sandy stairs to their motel, stopping along the way for more kisses. Amazed, oh-my-God kisses. Long, lazy, sensuous kisses. Heady moments of joy and exciting rediscovery.

  On the veranda outside her room, Bella couldn’t restrain herself. While Damon dealt with the door key, she showered him with kisses on his jaw, on his ear lobe, his neck.

  Inside, with the door safely shut, he reached for her and she fell into his arms with a glad, helpless cry. Their kisses turned greedy, hungry, ravenous. She threaded needy fingers in his hair and he kissed a burning trail along her collarbone.

  ‘Bella,’ he breathed against her ear. ‘My green-eyed girl.’

  ‘Don’t say that. You’ll make me cry.’

  ‘Then I’ll kiss you better.’

  Playfully, he teased her ear lobe with the tip of his tongue and she was overtaken by a desperate need to nibble-kiss the rough skin along his jaw.

  His lips found her breast through the soft fabric of her shirt, and a soft moan broke from her. Fever flooded her veins, swirling and licking into every secret part of her.

  A heartbeat later, they sank together onto the bed, breathless and shaking with wanting each other, kissing, nibbling, devouring … scrambling out of clothes. Desperately, ecstatically on fire …

  Afterwards, they lay close together in the dark listening to the wind rustling the palm fronds outside and the gentle splash of the tropical sea.

  Bella let out a deeply contented sigh. ‘I have to admit I haven’t been that desperate since I was seventeen.’

  ‘And for that I’ll be eternally grateful.’

  She felt his smile against her shoulder, was emboldened to ask, ‘So, is it terribly uncool if I tell you that you were amazing?’

  Laughing, he drew her closer, dropped kisses on her nose and chin. ‘You’re the epitome of cool, Bella bellissima. Don’t ever change.’

  Don’t ever change …

  But they had changed. They’d chosen different paths. She didn’t want to think about that, didn’t want anything to spoil this night. She needed to be able to keep this night as a precious, perfect memory. ‘Do you remember how we wanted our first time to be perfect? Rose petals, soft music, candles.’

  ‘You wanted those things. I was more worried about finding a pharmacist who didn’t know my father.’

  She smiled. ‘I saw us as Romeo and Juliet.’

  ‘We were almost as tragic.’

  A beat later, she asked the question that burned in her. ‘So, who was your first?’

  ‘I can’t remember.’

  ‘Liar.’

  It was a while before he responded. ‘Okay. It was a girl at university.’

  Of course … Bella had been ready for that. Even so, she swallowed the sudden ache in her throat.

  ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ she said, then hurried on before she lost her nerve. ‘The year after you left, I almost followed you to Queensland University.’

  As soon as she said this, she held her breath, shocked by her own audacity. Surely it was foolish to indulge in a heart-searching analysis of the past. But if she and Damon were ever going to have this kind of conversation, it should be now.

  ‘I wondered if you might,’ he said softly. ‘What happened? Did you change your mind?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t think I could bear to be there if you didn’t want me, and you’d made it so clear when you left Willara that it was all over between us.’

  ‘Yes …’ The word was released on a heavy sigh. ‘I was trying to protect you.’

  ‘What from?’

  ‘Me.’

  ‘Oh, Damon.’

  ‘I had to, Bella. It was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. But you still had another year of school, and I had to … leave …’

  He picked up her hand and began to massage her palm, kneading it gently but firmly. ‘Brown nail polish. That’s novel.’

  It was such an obvious and clumsy change of subject that Bella almost protested, but she didn’t want to do or say anything that might spoil the magic of this night.

  ‘It’s called Dark Mocha,’ she told him. ‘And it’s supposed to be very sophisticated. Do you like it?’

  ‘It’s great. Very chocolate and sexy.’

  Slowly, he massaged his way along each finger joint. It was surprisingly relaxing and Bella was almost beginning to feel drowsy when the kneading stopped abruptly. ‘Was your first time with Kent?’

  She snatched her hand away. ‘No! What makes you think that?’

  ‘Just a hunch.’

  ‘Well, you’re way off the mark.’ ‘Who, then?’

  ‘No one you know. A guy I met on holidays at the Gold Coast. Very brief and very forgettable.’

  This was greeted by silence but Bella fancied she could see Damon grinning in the darkness.

  His grin would probably be even wider if he knew the truth about her dating life—that none of her relationships had lasted longer than a few months. Her boyfriends had been all okay, perfectly suitable guys, but before long she had always found fault with them, or lost interest. One fellow smiled too much. Another had small white hands. One was too smothering in his attention; another was too serious about life in general.

  She’d never found a boyfriend who had everything on her wish list—someone fun and exciting and cool and sexy, with dark hair and grey eyes and strong capable hands.

  It was pathetic to hang out for a replica of Damon. She knew that. She knew it was unrealistic, unfair and unwise. But she couldn’t help it. Damon had left her with an unquenchable yearning.

  And yet, he wasn’t her One. He never could be.

  Neither of them had the right to be possessive about other lovers. They weren’t ever going to be a couple. They only had this one precious night and then Damon would be gone.

  Reaching out, Bella touched his bicep, ran her fingers over the smooth, hard muscle until she found the elongated dimple of puckered skin. ‘I hate to think about this bullet slicing through you.’

  ‘It wasn’t a bad wound.’

  ‘But what if it had been here?’ She pressed her hand over his heart and felt the drumming speed up beneath her palm.

  ‘You worry too much.’

  ‘I do. That’s very true.’

  ‘You never used to be a worrier.’

  ‘Maybe I didn’t have things to worry about.’

  He rolled towards her, draped a possessive arm over her hip. ‘You’re not going to add me to your worry list, are you?’

  ‘Are we talking about when you go back to your life of war-torn strife and disaster?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She couldn’t answer at first, had to wait for the ripples of panic to die down. ‘No, I won’t worry, Damon. I’m sure you’ll stay safe. Only the good die young.’

  He pressed a kiss to her forehead, let his hand glide over the sweet dip and curve of her hip. He kept the movement languid, but inside he felt the uneasy stirring of his conscience.

  Taking Bella to bed was both the best and the least sensible move he’d ever made. In the end, he’d had little choice. From the moment she’d climbed into the sports car with him, he’d been battling with ten years’ worth of loss. Then today they’d become so close. She had no idea how much she’d helped him, just by being there. Being Bella.

  His Bella. Ever since he’d left her, she’d remained his emotional touchstone. So many times, when he’d found himself growing too jaded or cynical about the chaos he’d witnessed, he’d only had to think of this girl’s unquestioning loyalty and the way she’d made him feel. Each time he’d remembered her faith in him, his ability to care about his fellow human beings had revived.

  This mysterious bond that had survived between them was incredibly special. More than chemistry, beyond friendship and ordinary closeness.

  He wouldn’t let himself think about love, of course. He’d seen through that rose-coloured dream long ago. And perhaps he could thank his father for an inh
erited ability to keep his heart safely under lock and key.

  But he did have to worry about Bella. He’d been so determined that he wouldn’t mess her around, wouldn’t hurt her. Now, he could only hope that she’d accepted this night for what it was—a one-off chance to reclaim the lost dreams of their youth, and then to let them go.

  This was an opportunity to gain closure at last.

  ‘Damon?’ Her voice reached him softly through the darkness. ‘Are you going to sleep?’

  ‘Not a chance.’

  ‘That’s a relief. I was starting to worry again.’ She snuggled closer, bringing with her the scent of wildflowers, and he felt the smooth arch of her foot slide over his leg.

  A moment later, she wriggled her toes against the inside of his thigh.

  ‘Minx,’ he growled as he pulled her to him.

  ‘That I am,’ she agreed. ‘And I want to be pleasured.’

  ‘Pleasured?’ he repeated, amused.

  ‘Mmm …’ She stretched against him in a slow, silky slide of pink and white lusciousness.

  He brushed the lightest of kisses over her skin, the first of the many he planned to give her, and he told himself one more time that this sad-happy pain in his heart could not, dared not be love.

  The telephone woke them.

  Bella dragged herself from her cosy haven against Damon’s shoulder, brushed her hair from her eyes and groped for her mobile on the nightstand beside her. She blinked at the pale daylight filtering through the bamboo blinds and onto their bed. ‘Hello.’

  ‘Bella, it’s Paddy. Sorry if I’ve woken you.’

  ‘That’s okay, Paddy.’ She saw Damon’s eyes snap open. ‘Is everything all right with you?’

  ‘Violet and I are fine. But listen, I’m ringing to tell you not to come any farther north.’

  ‘Really? But we’re almost there. We’re already in Cardwell.’

  ‘I know and you should turn around now.’

  ‘Paddy, why?’ She shook her head at Damon and sent him an eyebrow-raised look of helpless frustration.

  He sat up, frowning. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Mildly alarmed, Bella spoke into the phone. ‘You can’t send us home now, Paddy. Not when we’ve come so far. We’ve been worried about you.’ She tried to think of reasons for her grandfather’s unexpected blocking tactics. Was he going a bit dotty?

  ‘So you haven’t heard about the weather?’ he said.

  ‘No.’ Bella couldn’t remember the last time she’d listened to a weather report. It must have been at least a week ago. She’d been too busy dealing with wedding preparations, then calling the wedding off and then the emotional roller-coaster with Damon. Weather had been the very last thing on her mind.

  Yesterday, they’d had the car radio on, but Damon had switched stations whenever the news came on. ‘What’s happening with the weather?’ An unpleasant thought struck. ‘Not a cyclone?’

  ‘Yes, and it’s heading this way.’

  ‘To Port Douglas?’

  ‘Looks like it.’

  ‘Gosh. How close is it?’

  ‘It’s due to cross the coast sometime tonight.’

  ‘Paddy, that’s awful. What do you want us to do, then? Wait for you here? Meet you in Cairns?’

  Beside her, Damon rolled out of bed and went to the window. With a tweak of the bamboo blind he showed her a cropped view outside of a grey sky, thick with low clouds.

  ‘We’re going to stay put,’ Paddy told her. ‘We can’t desert Jessie.’

  ‘Who’s Jessie?’

  ‘Mick’s widow.’

  ‘Oh, yes, I see.’ Bella rubbed at her temple. This was all a bit much for so early in the morning. But she could imagine Paddy’s predicament. A newly grieving widow would be in no state to face a cyclone alone.

  ‘Jessie’s son is a busy doctor and he flew back to Perth straight after the funeral,’ Paddy explained. ‘And the low only turned into a cyclone early this morning. She’s all on her own. We’ve promised we’ll stay.’

  Bella nodded. ‘I understand, and I’m sure she’s very grateful to have you there. But if there is a cyclone, there’s all the more reason why we should be there, too. We wouldn’t want to impose on Jessie at such a sad time, but we could help to check that her house is safe.’

  ‘Well, yes, that could be helpful.’

  ‘Are there pot plants and bins and gardening tools that could get blown about?’

  ‘Yes. I must admit we haven’t thought about that. After living at Greenacres, we’ve become rather spoiled.’

  ‘Don’t worry. I could take care of it easily. And what about the roof and the windows? Damon could check those for Jessie.’

  At this, Damon turned from the window and sent her a thumbs-up.

  ‘You’ve got a point, love,’ Paddy admitted. ‘We probably could do with a hand.’

  ‘I’m sure you could, so why don’t you look after buying in supplies, and leave the heavy lifting for us? We’ll be on the road as soon as we can. Should be there around lunch time.’

  ‘Bella, that’s kind of you. Now drive carefully, won’t you?’

  ‘We will, I promise. Just remember, don’t try to do too much before we get there.’

  As Bella finished the call she sank against the pillows, let out her breath with a whoosh. ‘A cyclone.’ She sent Damon a rueful smile. ‘Who would have thought?’

  ‘I suppose a cyclone’s always on the cards if you’re in the tropics in summer.’

  ‘That’s true, but it’s still a bit early for the wet season. Gosh, what rotten luck.’

  Pulling the sheet over her, she closed her eyes and nestled back into the pillow. ‘I was looking forward to a leisurely sleep in, followed by a leisurely breakfast in bed.’

  Accompanied by leisurely lovemaking … she added silently.

  When Damon didn’t respond, she opened one eye and saw that he was busy with his mobile phone.

  ‘You’re not turning into a journalist, are you, Damon? Getting first dibs on covering the cyclone?’

  He smiled. ‘It’s tempting, but no. I’m checking the weather bureau on the internet. They have good cyclone tracking maps.’

  A minute or two later he’d found what he wanted. ‘Right. It’s not a huge storm, but bad enough, and it’s due to cross the coast between Port Douglas and Cairns some time around midnight.’

  ‘If we’re going to be any help, I guess we’d better get cracking, then.’

  ‘‘Fraid so.’

  ‘What a pity.’ Her lower lip drooped as she contemplated the last pleasurable hour they might have shared.

  Leaning over her, Damon nuzzled her ear. ‘We could always save time by showering together.’

  It wasn’t a bad compromise.

  ‘Are you heading north?’ the young woman in Reception asked as they turned in their keys. ‘You know there’s a cyclone coming?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve heard. Thanks, but we’ll be okay,’ Damon assured her. ‘We have family in Port Douglas.’

  The woman smiled back at him, her expression a mixture of coyness and curiosity. ‘Most tourists are turning around, but I’m sure you know what you’re doing, sir.’ As she waved them off her smile was shrewd. ‘I hope your rooms were comfortable.’

  ‘Very comfortable, thanks,’ Bella responded sweetly. She suspected that the other woman already knew they’d only used one of the rooms they’d paid for.

  On the highway again, they drove through countryside that was noticeably tropical and lush. A fertile coastal plain, covered by farms of bananas, lychees, mangoes and sugar cane, was set against a majestic backdrop of rainforest-clad mountains with peaks wreathed in soft, cloudy mist.

  It was almost like entering another country, Bella thought, and she might have enjoyed the scenery if she hadn’t been so preoccupied with thinking about the night she’d just shared with Damon.

  Last night had been.

  Oh, God, her throat ached with dammed tears just thinking about how p
erfect it had been. From the moment they’d kissed on the beach there’d been no doubt, no question. She and Damon had both known that they were meant to have this—this one perfect night.

  It was almost as if they’d slipped into a parallel universe where they could fulfil their true destiny, to live the life of their most secret desires and heartfelt dreams. One beautiful, passionate, glorious and tender night.

  At least, Bella assumed one night was all she could hope for. Last night, she’d been happy to forego a where-is-this-taking-us conversation, but with the arrival of a new day questions were lining up in her head and she needed to talk.

  News of the cyclone and their scramble to get on the road again hadn’t given them any chance to talk. But now she knew it was time to negotiate her way down from the clouds.

  But how did a girl start this kind of conversation?

  She had no idea how Damon felt about their relationship now. Men, she knew, were notoriously reluctant to analyse their sexual encounters too deeply.

  But as they drove through Tully and then on towards Innisfail, she knew she needed to talk or burst.

  She was just about to broach the tricky topic when Damon turned on the car radio. ‘Should be just about time for the latest weather report,’ he said.

  It gave more or less the same information they’d found on the internet. The cyclone was heading towards the coast and would cross during the night. It was a category two, but would probably intensify. As five was the highest category, it wasn’t terrifying news, but any kind of cyclone caused damage.

  ‘At least the cyclone more or less justifies our coming all this way,’ Bella said. ‘Paddy and Violet have obviously been coping very well, but I’m quite sure we can be helpful this afternoon. It’s really important to be well prepared for a cyclone.’

  ‘Have you ever been through one?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted. ‘Have you?’

  ‘A couple. I covered the aftermath of a very nasty one in Bangladesh.’

  ‘I hope this one doesn’t intensify.’

  Bella had never been to Port Douglas or Cairns, but she knew both places had a reputation for their beauty and were very popular with tourists. She hated to think of them being destroyed. ‘Let’s hope the weather bureau’s right. I don’t think I could bear a natural disaster on top of everything else that’s happened this week.’