In Bed With...Collection

She turned and walked back to the elevator where another group of people had gathered, waiting for its return. She could go now, having righted the wrong she had done Jake. And she did wish him well. He was a good man.

She didn’t hate him!

The steel guard Jake had put around his feelings for Laura Costarella cracked wide open at this stunning realisation. He was in instant tumult over her apology, wanting to know more, but she had already turned away and was heading for the elevator, not waiting for any response from him. What did that mean? She didn’t want one? Didn’t expect one?

How long had she known about her father’s lie? If it was before this hearing, she wouldn’t have attended it to support him. Was it simply curiosity that had drawn her here, a need to know everything that had limited their relationship and made it so impossible to sustain? But surely she wouldn’t have bothered unless…she still had feelings for him.

I wish you well…?.

It was a goodbye line.

He didn’t want it to be. He wanted…

The elevator doors opened. Laura was following the group of people into it. She was going and everything within him violently rebelled against letting her go.

Without any conscious thought at all he lifted two fingers to his lips and whistled the most piercing whistle he’d ever produced in his life.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN (#ud535c0fb-8216-5cc4-a273-7d8e9771b73f)

THE whistle startled everyone who heard it. Conversations were momentarily cut off. Feet stopped moving. Heads turned. Laura’s heart felt as though it had been kicked. Her mind instantly recalled the kiss-off line she’d written to Jake.

As for any future meeting between us, you can whistle for me.

Had he done it?

Please…let it be him wanting a meeting with her.

A meeting with a future in mind.

The other people resumed their movement into the elevator. Laura didn’t. She had to turn around, had to see. If it was Jake who had whistled, he’d be looking at her, perhaps holding out a hand in an appeal for her to stay where she was, wait a minute.

A chance to nothing, she told herself, her heart hammering as she acted on her need to know, throwing a quick glance over her shoulder. Jake had left his barrister’s side and was striding towards her, determined purpose burning in the eyes that locked onto hers, holding her still until he could reach her.

The elevator doors closed. Laura was the only person left behind. But Jake was coming to her. They hadn’t talked to each other for almost a year. She had no idea what was on his mind, yet the leap of hope in hers was so strong, it was impossible to put a guard of caution around it. He could probably see it in her eyes, the wanting, the needing. Pride couldn’t hide it. She had none where he was concerned.

He stopped about a metre away from her, tension emanating from him, making her nerves even tighter.

‘It’s been a long time,’ he said.

‘Yes,’ she agreed, the word coming out huskily. Her throat was choked up with a mountain of tumultuous emotions.

‘There’s a good coffee shop on the corner of the next block. Can I buy you a cappuccino?’

She swallowed hard to get rid of the lump. He was offering time together, wanting time together. A meeting. ‘I’d like that very much,’ she answered, her voice still furred with feelings that were totally uncontrollable.

‘Good!’ he said and stepped around her to press the elevator button, summoning it to this floor again.

Third time lucky, Laura thought giddily.

Jake flashed her a smile. ‘I wish you well, too, Laura. I always have.’

She nodded, yearning for far more than well-wishing from him.

‘Are you still living with your father?’ he asked.

‘No. I have a full-time job now. Landscape designer for a firm of architects. I can afford my own apartment.’

‘What about your mother?’

‘She moved out the same time I did. She’s okay. Much happier.’

‘Sharing your apartment?’

‘No. Nick Jeffries, our former handyman/gardener, carried her off to his home. He’s a widower and they’re very much in love.’

‘Wow!’ Jake grinned, surprised and seemingly delighted by this turn of events. ‘I guess you don’t have to worry about her anymore.’

‘No, I don’t. Having nothing to fear from Nick, she’s already blooming into a far more positive person.’

‘That’s good. Great!’

He really did look pleased—pleased because he didn’t want anyone to be her father’s victim, or pleased because she was completely free and clear of any continuing connection with her father? Was he checking to see if he could reasonably resume a relationship with her with no negative fallout from it? Did he want to? She was still her father’s daughter. Nothing could change that.

The elevator arrived and Jake waved an invitation to precede him into it. They were the only people occupying the small compartment on this ride. Jake stood silently beside her on the way down. Laura was too conscious of his close presence to think of anything to say. She had been intensely intimate with this man and the memories of it were flooding through her mind—the passionate kisses, the exquisite sensitivity of his touch. She had to press her thighs tightly together to contain the hot, searing need to have him again.

As they walked out to the street she was fiercely wishing he would take hold of her hand but he didn’t attempt even that simple physical link with her. The evening rush hour hadn’t quite started. The sidewalk wasn’t crowded. There was no reason for Jake to take her arm to keep them together and he didn’t. They reached the coffee shop without touching at all and Jake led her to a booth, waiting for her to slide in on one bench seat before seating himself across the table from her.

‘Like old times,’ she remarked, managing an ironic smile to cover the sick feeling that this might be the last time she shared a table with Jake.

He returned the smile. ‘A lot of water has passed under the bridge since then. Are you happy with the career you’ve chosen?’

She nodded. ‘It’s very challenging but I’m loving it. What about you, Jake? Have you moved on to renovating another house?’

‘Yes. I sold the last one.’

‘I know.’

He looked quizzically at her and she flushed, realising she had given away the fact that she had tried to visit him. Too late to take back those revealing words. She heaved a sigh to relieve the tightness in her chest and plunged into telling the truth. What point was there in holding back?

‘On the day we left Mosman—it was just before last Christmas—Mum found a bunch of other photographs of you in Dad’s safe. They made me realise he’d set you up, then spun a false story to make me believe…’ She hesitated, inwardly recoiling from repeating the horribly demeaning picture her father had drawn.

‘That I was a liar and a cheat,’ Jake finished for her with a wry grimace. ‘I didn’t blame you for believing him, Laura. It was my fault. I should never have touched you. It put you in a rotten position when I made my move against him.’

His use of the past tense hurt. If he regretted their relationship, what hope was there for a future one? But she was halfway through her explanation and she wanted to finish it.

‘Anyhow, it made me feel really bad about how I’d completely written you off, so I went to your house at Woollahra, wanting to apologise, except you were gone and other people had moved in. I had no means of contact with you unless I came to the hearing, and I’m glad I did. Listening to everything being laid out made me understand why you had to take my father down. You were right to do it. And I do wish you well, Jake.’

There!