Echoes Page 3

  The memory of him, his taste, his touch, his masculine, clean, male scent as he’d pulled her into his arms, laughed softly in her ear as he skimmed the clothes from her body, all those hard, muscled planes pressed so firmly against her, the skill, the tenderness…

  The rejection.

  The hurt and pain.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Yeah, she had to remember the pain. Sweet, hot memories were all very well and good, but they were shattered, torn apart, shoved so very far down in a well of despair and humiliation that she could never afford to forget it. Had vowed never to have her heart broken again.

  Another long swallow of Diet Coke, her fingers trembling just a little. No, she couldn’t forget, wouldn’t forget. It was lousy luck that he was here now but it didn’t mean she had to see him. God knew how long they’d both been in the same city without knowing the other was present.

  Her mobile rang softly but she didn’t bother to pick it up, letting it go to message bank.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

  Glancing up, she smiled at the woman who worked at the real estate office beside the service station. “Hey, Shelly.”

  “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?”

  “Soon.”

  “Something wrong?”

  “Not at all.” Welcoming the chance to change her train of thought, Ella gestured with the can. “Day off?”

  “Still on holidays. Back to work on Monday, worse luck.”

  “How’d the camping trip go?”

  “Dead loss. All I got was a cold arse and something bit me.”

  “On the arse? It was a decrepit old camping ground with no real toilet. Maybe you sat on an old dunny and got bitten by a Redback spider, ever think of that?”

  “I squatted out in the grass, you ever think of that?”

  “Too much information.” Ella laughed.

  “I was bitten on the arm, wise guy. I think it was a mozzie.” Shelly rubbed her arm under the jumper sleeve. “Man, can you believe how chilly it is today? Way too chilly for the beginning of autumn.”

  “Is that what we’re being relegated to? Talk of the weather?”

  “Up yours. So you’re not working tonight?”

  “Actually, I am.”

  “So shouldn’t you be getting some beauty sleep? ‘Cause I hate to be mean, but you look like crap.”

  “I feel so much better, thanks.”

  “My pleasure.” Shelly grew serious. “So why are you here instead of bed?”

  “Trouble sleeping.”

  “Problem?”

  “No.” Yes.

  The mobile rang again, Shelly looking questioningly at her when she didn’t pick it up.

  “Can’t be bothered.” Without looking, Ella drained the contents of the can before tossing it with unerring accuracy into a nearby rubbish bin. “I’m just having a touch of insomnia.”

  “Sucks.” Shelly brightened. “Hey, I know this girl who sells herbs and stuff, why don’t you go see if she’s got something to help you sleep?”

  “It’s all good, mother hen, I promise you.” Ella faked a yawn and stretched leisurely. “I think sitting here has helped lull me a little, I’m actually starting to feel tired. Think I’ll head for home and bed after all.”

  Shelly glanced at her wrist watch. “I’m heading off, too. Got some shopping to do then I’ve a date with the vacuum cleaner.”

  “Your son didn’t do the housework while you were away?”

  “Man has no concept of what a vacuum cleaner is for unless it’s to clean his car.” Flashing a grin, Shelly stood. “Catch you later. Sleep well.”

  Ella watched her go before getting slowly to her feet. Sitting here all day wasn’t going to do any good. She had work tonight and needed to get some sleep in regardless of her chaotic thoughts.

  No, she thought sternly, not chaotic. He’s not worth getting churned up about.

  Driving home, she forced herself to focus on the radio, even singing along to the songs, so determined to put Ryan from her thoughts that she’d do practically anything.

  Pulling into the driveway, she eyed the red paint on the white wall of the house. Hell, she’d even paint the wall right now if she could muster the energy. Now, however, she really was feeling a little tired. Time to hit the sack and be done with it. She had two days off starting tomorrow and could repaint the wall then.

  Counting her lucky stars that Mrs Featherstone hadn’t seen her arrive, she shut the garage door, hoping that would prevent her neighbour from coming over to nag her about ringing Tom. The man would moan and groan and she really didn’t have the patience for it right now.

  Fifteen minutes later she was showered and fast sleep.

  Five hours later she was woken by knocking on the door.

  Trying to ignore it, she pulled the pillow over her head and curled up under the Doona, Boof giving a disgruntled meow of protest at her feet. The knocking continued, however, this time at the back door.

  Flinging back the Doona, she swore. “This had better be bloody worth it.” Then, just to give the unwanted guest the shits and time to leave, and yes, a little bit of vanity in not wanting morning breath - or afternoon breath, take your pick - to greet them in case it was Tom, she yelled out ‘Just a minute!”, gave her teeth a quick brush, gargled water, swallowed several mouthfuls and checked her hair. The braid was a little messy but so sad, too bad.

  The knocking had stopped, so maybe whoever it was had left. Even better.

  Muttering to herself, she dragged a thin dressing gown over her nightie as she strode into the kitchen and yanked open the back door. At the sight of the man standing on the edge of the veranda with his back toward her, her mouth went dry.

  She didn’t need to see his face to know who it was. One look at those broad shoulders under the blue polo shirt, the dark brown hair, was enough. More than enough.

  At the sound of the door he took his sunglasses off and looked around - right as she shut it in his face.

  It was a move that wasn’t going to work, she just knew it. Sure enough, he knocked. Folding her arms beneath her breasts as she unknowingly curled inward a little, she stared at the door.

  “Ella.” Ryan’s quiet voice came through the door. “Open up.”

  She swallowed.

  “Open up.” There was a resolute firmness about his tone.

  Involuntarily, her fingers clenched in the thin material of the dressing gown.

  “Ella.”

  If she ignored him, stayed quiet, he’d go away and-

  “I’m not leaving.”

  What? Could he read her mind or something? Wait… She bit her lip. Yes, he probably could. He’d always known what she thought, what she felt. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath.

  “I’m not leaving,” Ryan restated.

  Straightening her shoulders, she scowled. She wasn’t the same person he’d left behind, she could stand on her own two feet and that included standing against the one who’d hurt her the most. Yanking open the wooden door, she snapped, “Go away.”

  His face remained calm. “Open up.”

  “I’ll call the police if you don’t get off my freakin’ property!”

  Those brown eyes were locked onto hers, the intensity in them a quiet burn. “Open up.”

  “We can talk through the door. If I wanted to talk,” she added, “which I don’t.”

  “Open up.”

  “Do you know any other words? Such as ‘goodbye’?”

  This time he didn’t answer, just continued to gaze through the security screen at her.

  He wasn’t going to leave, she just knew it. It was either let him in or have him still standing there tonight when she left. And then he’d get her.

  Calling herself all kinds of an idiot, she flipped the lock on the door and swung away to cross to the sink, filling a glass of water so she’d have something to do with her hands. Okay, and allow her to watch in the reflection of the kitchen window as he entered. />
  It was as though his presence suddenly filled the room, pressing in upon her, which was just ridiculous. Taking sip of water, she schooled her features before turning to eye him coolly.

  Ryan looked good, damned good. Tall, broad-shouldered, tanned skin, dark-eyed and dark-haired. Muscular under the short-sleeved, navy polo shirt bearing the Wells Security logo in pale blue stitching on the breast pocket. The navy blue pants skimmed his legs but she knew full-well muscular thighs were hidden beneath. Lace-up black boots shod his feet, no doubt steel-capped for kicking the shit out of anyone who dared cross him, because hell, his face also had something it had never possessed back in the day. A hint of cruelty.

  Her fingers tightened a little on the glass as she took in his air. Yeah, it was there, his handsome face a little older, so serious, so grim, with a hint of cruelty in the features, the watchfulness of a predator. His eyes that once laughed and sparkled with life now assessed her kitchen as he swept it with a narrow-eyed gaze right before that assessing gaze stopped on her.

  He watched her with an almost dark, brooding air and now she could feel it, a subtle shift of danger around him, the way he held himself seemingly relaxed but so alert, so ready to spring into action, a stillness about him as he dissected her with his gaze, those brown eyes making her squirm inside with the sheer intensity of it.

  Like a predator assessing prey.

  Her knees practically knocked together, a rush of anger and desire rushing through her at breakneck speed before her lips tightened. Damn it, she wasn’t prey. Not anymore. And she didn’t have to worry about hurting his feelings - if the bastard even had any left.

  “So,” she said coolly when it appeared he wasn’t going to speak first, “now you’ve gotten what you wanted, what is it?” Before he could reply, she raised a finger. “Wait. Let me guess. You’re running me out of town?”

  If anything, that had the intensity in his eyes sharpening.

  “Or maybe you’re here to warn me off the business? Maybe because I’ll - oh, I don’t know, cause you a problem?”

  Oh boy, if she’d thought the air of danger around him was subtle, it was way off from there now. It practically seeped from him like invisible tendrils.

  Looked like Ryan Hargreaves was getting a little miffed.

  Ella couldn’t help but feel a little savage satisfaction. “Or maybe you’re shacked up now with some sheila and you’re worried that I’ll influence her with my presence? Or tell her that we were once a couple?” She shook her head, tsked. “I promise I won’t taint your reputation, Ryan. I’m hands-off your girlfriend - wife, family, whatever. So you can take your little threatening air and skedaddle out of here.” She waved her fingers toward the door. “Nice meeting you again and all that polite crap.”

  Oh yeah, that cracked his composure a little. His lips tightened, his eyes narrowed, and that danger practically thickened the atmosphere.

  With a smirk, she drained the glass of water, placed it on the sink and proceeded to stride from the room. “So if you’ll be so kind as to shut the door on the way out - and oh, what’s the saying? Don’t let it hit you on the arse? Although, you know, I don’t really care about that last bi-”

  Her triumphant exit was marred by a big hand wrapping around her upper arm as Ryan jerked her to a halt. She half expected to be shoved against a wall, instead he held her still, stepping closer so that her upper arm brushed his chest as he held her side-on to him.

  If silence could be loud, this was it. They stood, Ella’s heart rate picking up alarmingly as she felt the heat of his body seep into her, the feel of his hand wrapped around her arm, his muscled forearm pressed against her side, his very closeness eliciting all kinds of disturbing sensations.

  His scent filled her, every inhale sucking clean male and a faint hint of soap into her lungs. That big hand wrapped around her upper arm felt like it could burn through the thin material of her dressing gown, warmth emanating to spread through her arm.

  Swallowing down the nerves that sprinkled through her, she lifted her chin, so very aware of his gaze fastened on her as he waited for her to make the next move.

  Or maybe he was planning his own.

  Lifting her chin, she forced herself to turn her head unhurriedly and look down at his hand before slowly travelling her gaze up his chest to that rock-hard jaw, those unsmiling lips, that straight nose to finally meet brown eyes that were locked onto her with an intensity that was almost frightening.

  Still he didn’t speak, just held her before him.

  There was no doubting the nerves dancing under her skin, but she refused to show it. Or hoped she didn’t show it, because this lethal man could probably see it in her eyes.

  “I’m not here to hunt you away, Ella,” Ryan said quietly, “I don’t have a girlfriend, family or wife. I’m not shacked up with any sheila. You won’t taint my reputation or that of Aaron’s company. You will be getting security cameras installed by Wells Security.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes.”

  “I’ve news for you, mate, and it’s all bad.” She lifted her chin. “I’m not having Wells Security, I’ve cancelled it. Now let me go and get out of my house.” When not an eyebrow twitched nor a muscle jumped on that damned, hard, handsome face, she looked down at his hand still wrapped firmly around her upper arm. “Do you need that in writing?”

  In reply, he released her.

  Inwardly relieved, she pulled away from him and walked out the room, more than conscious of his gaze following her. Her heart beat a rapid tattoo but she kept her head up and back straight, exiting with as much dignity as she could muster. Let him find his own way out.

  Resisting the temptation to go to the lounge room and peek through the window to watch him leave, she instead entered the bathroom. There was no way she could sleep now so she might as well shower early and get a few things done.

  It was only when the water was beating down and she picked up the soap that she noticed the tremble of her hand. Looked like his turning up had disturbed her more than it should have done.

  There was no point denying it, just as there was no point dwelling on it. Time was better spent on finding another security firm to put up cameras. It was a shame, Wells Security had the best reputation around, but beggars couldn’t be choosers and no way did she want to be connected in anyway with a company for which Ryan worked.

  In the middle of shaving her legs, she paused. As a matter of fact, just why was Ryan working for a security company? The last she’d seen of him, she’d been watching through a haze of tears as he’d walked away without a backward glance to resume his Commando duties in the Army.

  Even as she wondered, she pushed the thought away. Didn’t matter, he wasn’t registering on her radar anymore. She’d flicked him off long ago and now had a new life. True, it wasn’t the great life she’d expected and planned but it was still her life. Give her lemons and she’d make lemon- ah bugger it, she’d give the sour shit to someone else to make damned lemonade. She had bigger fish to fry.

  In fact, she’d thrown those fish right into the middle of the frypan.

  With that thought, she smiled and finished shaving her legs.

  Feeling better, she finished her shower and dressed in shorts and a button-up blouse, slid on a pair of thongs and surveyed her toe nails. Pretty pink polish, still unchipped. Not bad. Bundling her hair into a careless bun, she returned to the bedroom to slip the nightie under the pillow and make the bed. Opening the window, she let the fresh breeze blow the curtains back into the room and inhaled. The chill rain was gone, the sunny afternoon pleasantly warm. Autumn was around the corner but the days were still nice.

  Maybe she’d amble down to the paint shop and get a few things ready for the paint job tomorrow on the front of the house. Tom need never know what had happened, a slap of paint and no worries. While out she’d call in to another security business. Time to check out the phone book before she left.

  Walking down the small hall, she sl
owed when she heard a voice.

  A male voice.

  A very familiar male voice of someone who had no right to be there.

  In her bloody kitchen.

  Temper flaring, she swung into the kitchen to find Ryan bent over her kitchen bench, his mobile beside his hand and an open notebook before him that - Goddamn it! - had a hand-drawn picture of her bloody house on it!

  As she entered practically breathing fire, his face remained impassive while his gaze slid over her before returning to the paper.

  “Cameras set at strategic places will cover all areas,” he was saying.

  “What the hell are you-” Ella began furiously, only to have him hold up one finger.

  One finger. At her. A gesture to be silent.

  “You arrogant-”

  “Ella?” Tom’s voice came from the mobile which was obviously on speaker. “Wells Security is putting cameras up.”

  “What? No.” Bracing her palms on the bench, Ella stood opposite Ryan, glaring daggers at him. “I’m not hiring them.”

  “No, you’re not. I am.”

  “Look, Tom, you’re my landlord not my babysitter.”

  “Vandalism costs me money, Ella.”

  “I don’t want that company.”

  “I do.”

  Ryan scrutinized her face with a cool look before returning to jotting on the diagram of her freakin’ house.

  Protesting, she made to snatch the notebook away. “I’m paying the damned rent!”

  Ryan caught her wrist. When she tried to wrench away, his fingers merely tightened firmly.

  “Your point?” Tom demanded.

  “Cameras don’t come under the rent agreement.” Glaring at Ryan, Ella mouthed let go.

  He released her. “Tom, I’ll have the quote to you within the hour.” Angry and frustrated, she opened her mouth only to be completely flummoxed when he quietly ordered, “Behave yourself. Tom, I need to get things moving.”

  “You do that.”

  Behave herself? Had he actually dared to say that as though she was a misbehaving child? Prepared to give him a verbal blasting, she was blindsided by her landlord.