Runaway Bride

‘Why not?’

His voice was cool and dispassionate, as if he didn’t care one way or the other about her answer. Bella had been about to make another flustered protest, but his coolness made her feel foolish.

Why shouldn’t they travel together?

From a purely practical viewpoint, it made good sense to share the costs and to take turns with the driving. On a personal level, they weren’t about to start anything foolish like a fling. She’d just escaped from making a serious mistake, and she had absolutely no intention of hooking up with a new man, especially this man who’d hurt her once before.

Besides, Damon had changed a great deal from the seductive charmer of his youth. These days, he was the perennial nomad. He’d made an art form out of being a loner. And there was something very closed and shut off about him now.

He was looking at her with a thoughtful frown. ‘I know I can handle Violet when I find her, but, to be honest, I’m not so sure about Paddy.’

It was another valid point. They still didn’t know why Paddy and Violet had taken off in such a rush, and two heads might be better than one when it came to dealing with the outcome when they eventually found their grandparents.

‘I guess it does make sense to go together.’ Bella sent him a nervous smile. ‘But you have to admit it’s a very weird situation.’

‘Mad,’ he agreed. ‘Off the planet.’

Even so, it seemed the decision was made.

‘I’ll have to explain to my father. He doesn’t even know the wedding’s off yet.’

‘Will he be okay without you? I heard he’s not well.’

‘He’s been very ill, actually, but he’s on the mend. And there are people to keep an eye on him. I—I think he’ll be fine.’

Damon started the car up again and they continued on down the track, around the final bend that led to the dilapidated Blue Gums homestead with its rusted roof and peeling paint and unkempt garden.

‘As you can see our place has gone downhill since Mum got sick,’ she said rather unnecessarily.

‘I was very sorry to hear that she died.’

Bella nodded. ‘You sent me a lovely card from Dubrovnik.’ His message had been heartfelt and touching and she’d cried buckets. Now, just thinking about how kind he’d been, she blinked away the sudden threat of tears. ‘I’m sorry. I’d like to invite you in, but although Dad’s a lot better, he’s not quite up to playing host.’

‘That’s fine. I’ll wait in the car.’

‘I’ll be as quick as I can.’ She opened the passenger door, and it was then she discovered how shaky her knees were.

Not so surprising, she thought as she headed inside. She could hardly believe the one-eighty degree turn her life had just taken.

CHAPTER TWO

DAMON was grateful for the chance to sit alone in the car while he gathered his thoughts, while he tried, desperately, to come to terms with the craziness of what had just happened.

He still couldn’t quite believe he’d agreed to set out on a road trip with Bella Shaw, that he’d actually been the one who suggested they travel together.

He’d been so determined to stay clear of her. Hell.

He’d assumed that he’d grown wiser in the past few years. He’d seen so much—had witnessed terrible atrocities and disasters. He’d been detained at gunpoint more times than he cared to count.

And yet … here in the town where he’d spent his five years of high school … this sleepy little town set in the middle of golden wheat fields and dusty cow paddocks … he’d stumbled on an entirely new set of dangers. Unexpected traps.

Emotional traps … in the form of his sweet, elderly grandmother, Violet, the only member of his family who communicated with him regularly, and the one person in the world he loved unequivocally. And Bella Shaw …

Bella … of the pale silky hair, wide green eyes and lissom, almost waiflike body.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Damon propped his elbow on the car’s door frame and massaged his aching forehead. He willed himself to relax, to absorb the stillness of the countryside, the muffled buzzing of insects and the distant call of a magpie.

He’d spent the past decade in voluntary exile, first as a journalist in Singapore, then Hong Kong, and in more recent years, as a foreign correspondent. He’d been busy, constantly learning, dealing with danger on a daily basis, and he could have sworn that Bella Shaw no longer had a hold on him. She’d been his high-school crush, for heaven’s sake. Nothing more.

He’d liaised with many women since he left this town. Beautiful women. Wise, wicked and worldly women. And he’d found something to admire in all of them.

These days, he was a totally different person from the boy who’d lived here. In high school he’d still been impressionable, trying for the most part to fit in with the local kids, despite the wars at home.

Since then, he’d discovered his true calling as a loner, an observer always on the fringes, never staying in one place for too long. A man with no ties. A man who was no longer brought to his knees by the merest fleeting smile from one particular girl.

He had been so sure it was safe to come back.

It should have been easy. Dead easy. Bella was marrying Kent Rigby.

Those fateful words: ‘I do!’ A gold band on her finger. In one short ceremony Damon could close the door on his past, could free himself of haunting memories. Forever.

What irony.

Instead of burying his past, he’d dragged it with both hands into his present. Bella was still single, and he was going to be in constant contact with her, up close and personal, for an indefinite period.

Damn. Shoving the car door open, Damon jumped out. Hands plunged deep in his pockets, he paced along the narrow dirt track beside the Blue Gums fence line while the shock of the wedding cancellation reverberated through him like a string of explosives.

What had gone wrong with their wedding plans?

There’d been no sign of a problem at the bucks’ party last night. Thud.

The bucks’ party. He felt a slam of guilt like a fist in the guts. He’d been such a jerk, made a damn fool of himself. He’d fronted up to Kent, intending to congratulate the lucky groom, then he’d lost the plot and more or less questioned Kent’s right to marry Bella.

Remembering it now, Damon groaned so loudly he frightened a flock of finches in a nearby tree. What the hell had he been thinking?

He couldn’t blame the drink—that had come later when he’d realised how very unsmart he’d been.

Talk about uncalled for. He hadn’t seen either Kent or Bella in over a decade, and he’d severely stuffed his chances with her back then. He had no right to question Kent.

And yet he’d been unable to quash his doubts. He’d told himself the doubts were crazy. Unreasonable. Kent was a great bloke, an old mate. There could be no doubt that he and Bella were destined as Willara’s golden couple.

Just the same …

Damon couldn’t get his head around the idea. He couldn’t see how Bella would be happy as a farmer’s wife, couldn’t forget the way she used to joke about it.

‘Shoot me now,’ she used to say if anyone suggested she might live in Willara for the rest of her life.

Last night he’d spoken out of turn. This morning, it seemed his doubts had been spot on and he couldn’t deny a glimmer of smug male satisfaction that he was right.