Fatal Flaw. Sandy Curtis
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smiled at him. 'Sometimes I get him to help me cook dinner. He doesn't have quite the flair you had, but you were always such a perfectionist.'
'I didn't want to starve.' The words had hardly left his mouth when memories came surging into Mark's mind. Reading his mother's recipe books while his father poured another Scotch. Peeling vegetables and cooking meat. Gordon slumping in front of the television with his glass slipping through his fingers. Putting his father's meal in the oven in the hope he would eat before he went to bed.
Then Claire had come into their lives. For the first time since Mark's mother had died, Gordon Talbert had started taking an interest in life again. His drinking had slowed, then stopped. On his tenth birthday, Mark had received a new bicycle and the news that Gordon and Claire were to marry. On their wedding day, Mark had felt he might, just might, believe in miracles.
The rainforest broke the sun's scorching rays as Ruth moved into its hushed shadows. Although no rain had fallen for weeks, the ground still carried the dank smell of plant mould and friable soil. A wallaby, startled by her approach, hopped further into the undergrowth. Ruth's sandals padded over the gnarled roots and leaf litter, and her skirt made a pleasant swishing sound between her striding legs. She smiled. It felt so wonderful to be herself, to not care who saw her, or worry that she might give herself away by a thoughtless word. She began to hum in rhythm with her footsteps.
The track narrowed as it began its descent down the mountainside, and finally petered out. Ruth slowed her pace, careful now, wary of the rocks that might topple under her weight and the fallen trees that might shelter snakes. A few minutes later she negotiated a bend and stopped. Over the years rain had funnelled into the boulder-strewn rift before her and collected in a pool a few metres below. During storms the pool would overflow down the mountain, but now it lay, clear and cool, an irresistible invitation to her hot skin.
The backyard of her house ended at the edge of the rainforest, but her nearest neighbour was hundreds of metres away and she had never found evidence that anyone else knew of the pool. She scrambled down the rocks to the water's edge, glanced around to reassure herself that she was truly alone, took off her sandals, dress and underwear, and slipped into the coolness.
For many minutes she let the water soak away the stresses of the past week. Gordon had been a disappointment. She had counted on him taking action as soon as he had received the letter. When this didn't happen, she had decided to accelerate her timeline and push his death forward a few months. Now that he was buried, they would begin to remove his personal effects from his office. Ruth was sure he would have kept the letter in a private place in his office. Which meant that when it was given to Claire, she would turn it over to the authorities. Claire's disdain for Ray Galloway was something Ruth knew she could rely on.
A rock moved beneath Ruth's foot, and she stepped back quickly. She had never learned to swim, and the pool was deep in the centre. She sat down, her back against a boulder, the water lapping her chin. Yes, the next stage of her plan should proceed nicely.
'Did you have anything planned for the rest of the day?' Mark asked Julie as she waved Andy off to join his mates.
'Only some gardening. The side yard is starting to look like a jungle. But it can wait.'
'I'll give you a hand with it.'
Julie smiled. 'You're hardly dressed for pruning and weeding.'
Mark looked down at his shirt and jeans. 'That's easily fixed.' He undid the buttons on his shirt, pulled it from his jeans, and tossed it onto the chair. 'Do you have a spare hat and some sunscreen, or will we be in the shade?'
'Shade… no, well, a little.' Julie felt her wits had deserted her. She was used to seeing most men her age with an almost obligatory beer gut. Mark might have been solidly built, but it was all muscle. Very attractive muscle. 'Do you go to the gym a lot?'
'I try to keep fit.'
Although there was no inference to be drawn from his tone, Julie said, 'I guess you have to, in your line of work.'
A shadow flitted across Mark's face but he made no comment. Julie picked up the tray of glasses and plates. 'I'll find a hat for you.'
As she rummaged around in Andy's bedroom for some kind of headgear that might fit Mark, she berated herself for the tangent her mind was taking. As a teenager she'd harboured dreams of Mark seeing her as more than a friend, but she'd gradually come to accept that he didn't feel the same way. Now that long-suppressed hope had reignited, and she was afraid it would be dashed once again. Since she'd seen him at the funeral yesterday, she'd had trouble controlling the fantasies that had hyped up her libido to the point that she'd practically salivated at the sight of his tightly muscled chest and those dark hairs trailing down to the jeans moulded around his hips.
An hour and a half later she stripped off her gardening gloves, pushed her hat to the back of her head, and wiped her face. Weeds and branches littered the lawn, but at least the garden was now almost under control. She watched as the mattock Mark was swinging bit deep into the gnarled root of an overgrown shrub. He levered the root from the ground, his body glistening with sweat, his muscles cording with the exertion. The effect was so blatantly male, so evocative of how he might look holding himself up while he positioned himself over her naked, willing body, that she quivered with the need shooting through her.
They'd worked together well, talking little, and Julie realised how much she'd missed his companionship. She'd had to work at her relationship with Luke, but with Mark it was easy. And so was the attraction she felt. She'd spent the past hour getting hotter than the sun could be blamed for. The feel of his skin as she'd rubbed the sunscreen on his back lingered in her memory. For one absurd moment, she wished she had the courage to beg him to make love to her. But she knew one session of hot, steamy sex wouldn't be enough. She'd be damned if she'd risk losing him by chasing him like a horny teenager.
'Let's have lunch,' she said as he began raking the rubbish into a pile. He nodded, and she walked over to the hose, picked it up and turned on the tap. She sluiced water across her face and flicked it away. Mark pulled off his gloves and laid them on the mattock.
Before she could stop the mischievous thought that popped into her mind, Julie acted on it. She turned the tap on full and blasted Mark in the chest. The astounded look on his face was so comical that laughter bubbled up in Julie's throat. She turned the hose on harder. The grin that split Mark's face transformed it so much that Julie's laughter died. Her heart clenched with the recognition that she had always loved this man.
Suddenly he charged at her, tossing her across his shoulder and grabbing the hose in one swift move. Water sprayed over her back, knocked off her hat, and poured through her hair. She laughed, and pretended to hit him with her fists. He swung her to the ground, his own laughter rippling up from deep in his chest. There was a sexy, daredevil gleam in his eyes that she had never seen before. He held her against him, aiming the hose so it showered over the two of them, sluicing off dirt and sweat.
'I've wanted to do that for a long time, Mark Talbert,' Julie said, when he aimed the water towards the garden.
'What? Hose me?'
'No. Make you laugh. You were always such a serious child. Then you were a serious teenager who turned into a serious adult. You'd smile, but I always wondered what it would be like when you laughed, really laughed.'
'And how was it?'
His tone intimated it wasn't a casual question, and Julie saw something in his eyes that needed more than a flippant reply. 'Worth waiting all these years for.'
She kissed him. A light, almost hesitant, touch of lips. Soft as a butterfly's wing. She felt the sudden stillness in his body, the tension in his big hands where they held her. Heart pounding, apprehensive about his reaction, she eased slightly away.
He dropped the hose.
She saw a tentative acknowledgment in his eyes, saw her own nervousness mirrored, then disappear. As his lips lowered to hers, she recognised the inevitability of the moment, as though it had always been meant for them to be together. She felt the sun's heat on his skin, savoured the hot masculine taste and smell of him, and tried