Hotbed of Scandal: Mistress: At What Price? / Red Wine and Her Sexy Ex / Bedded by Blackmail

Not a problem? Dane gave himself a mental slap on the forehead. They had unfinished business that went back ten years. To a night of youthful passion on a girly patterned quilt, the night-cooled fragrance wafting inside on the moonbeams.

Then a very ugly end outside his father’s garage.

Not a matter that could be sorted out tonight, Dane knew, but he’d taken one look at Brad and some sort of proprietorial instinct had kicked in.

‘But you’ll want to stay, enjoy…’ She waved a carefully manicured hand. ‘Whatever…’

‘I’m ready to leave when you are.’

‘Very well,’ she said with quiet formality, her spine rigid. ‘Thank you. I’d like to leave now, if that’s okay. My body clock’s still on Greenwich Mean Time.’

‘We’ll say our goodbyes, then.’ He placed a hand on the small of her back. He hadn’t counted on the heat that rushed into his palm at that first electrifying contact. Beneath his palm the sensuous fabric of her designer dress shifted against her flesh, making him wonder how she would feel without the silk.

Just smooth, sleek skin.

She flinched as if burned. So she felt it, too, he mused as he steered her towards their hosts. Interesting. Had she and her French lover called it quits? She’d returned alone, and there’d been a definite chill in her reply when Paris had been mentioned.

The paparazzi, eager for their quota of celebrity guest snaps, were milling about the property’s open gates. A security guard waved Dane through. Bulbs flashed and a blur of faces bumped up against the window.

‘You’d be accustomed to this?’ he asked, steering his way through the photographers. ‘I should have asked if you were okay with it.’

‘Yes and yes. But in this case they’re not aimed at me.’

‘That ain’t necessarily so. You’re somewhat of a celebrity yourself these days.’

‘Not so much here. And it’s not as if I’m your date or anything.’

He glanced her way before spinning the car onto the country road, leaving the press behind in a spray of dust. ‘They don’t know that.’

She didn’t reply. In fact she looked serenely ahead, watching the moon-drenched paddocks and stands of gum trees flash by. Every so often a light glinted from a farmhouse behind the regular curtains of foliage.

She wasn’t as calm as she let on, he noted. The grip on her bag was white-knuckled, and her thumbs massaged the strap in tiny jerky movements against her thighs.

Thighs that looked smooth and silky and…very naked.

Eyes on the road. Only on the road. Sweat broke out on his brow. He switched the air-conditioning to full blast. ‘Too cold?’ he asked a moment later, more to fill the silence than anything else. Silence that seemed to throb with the sound of the bass from the stereo speakers.

‘No…no, it’s…cool.’

She changed position, and he didn’t have to look to know she’d stretched those long naked legs out in front of her. Within the Porsche’s confines her roses-and-sin perfume wound around his senses like a long-forgotten dream. He thanked whatever lucky star was out tonight that it was only a short drive over the next ridge of hills.

Through childhood she’d always been his best mate, generous and loyal and stubborn. By seventeen she’d turned into a confident, ambitious young woman who wanted to take on the world. And leave him behind.

He shook off the edgy thought and glanced her way again. At twenty-seven…Well, right now she was all about lusciousness and impact. But how well did he know this grown-up version? ‘You were saying you’re not modelling now?’ he prompted into the silence.

She hesitated. ‘No. My business partner and I parted ways.’

‘Luc?’ She’d carefully avoided mentioning the fact that he’d also been her lover. ‘Phoebe told me all about him.’ Slight emphasis on ‘all’.

‘Yes. Luc. I don’t want to talk about it. Him.’ She waved a disconcerted hand. ‘Any of it.’

‘I’m sorry,’ he said, and hoped he sounded sincere. And why wouldn’t he be? He’d only ever wanted the best for Mariel.

‘How’s your father?’ She spoke suddenly, as if she’d plucked something—anything—out of the ether to switch topics.

‘He was okay when I spoke to him a couple of months ago.’And that was all Dane needed to know, all Mariel needed to know, and all he wanted to say about his old man.

‘And your mother?’

‘Still living in Queensland, last I heard.’ With her man of the moment.

‘So…by that I take it you don’t live at home now?’

Home. Dane scowled at the white line dissecting the road as it curved over a rise. Had the generations-old homestead set amidst acres of rolling Adelaide hills ever been a home? ‘Home’ implied two parents who were committed to each other, their marriage and their offspring. At least it did in Dane’s opinion; it seemed his parents thought differently.

‘I moved out years ago. Soon after you left, in fact. I’ve got my own place in North Adelaide. It’s close to work. Jus and I have an IT business there.’

‘Then I’m taking you out of your way.’

‘Not a problem. I like driving.’ He glanced in the rear-vision mirror, frowned at the car which had been tailing them since they’d left the wedding, and with a sharp twist of the steering wheel pulled over to the edge of the road. ‘Especially when you get a view like that.’

An almost full moon lifted out of the landscape, bleaching the fields and spilling inky shadows beneath the gums. From the corner of his eye Dane watched the car behind slow down, pass, then continue on.

‘Oh…wow.’ Mariel shimmied upright, her face animated in the soft glow. ‘I’ve missed this. It must be the atmosphere here, but the Aussie moon looks so much bigger than the Parisian moon.’ A quick grin danced over her features. ‘And wouldn’t they kill me back there for saying that?’

‘They wouldn’t if they were here,’ Dane murmured, his thoughts tumbling back in time. As a kid, how many evenings had he spent watching possum shadows play amongst the trees against a star-studded sky? Gazing at the moon in all its phases?

Waiting until it felt safe enough to go inside?

He shook his head, edged back onto the empty road. Being with Mariel after all this time was tossing up old memories.

The last time he’d seen her she’d been careening down his father’s driveway, grating gears and spraying gravel as she fishtailed onto the road.

He pressed his foot harder on the accelerator. The sooner he got her home, the better off he’d be.

The better off they’d both be.

A few moments later they approached her parents’ home. Dane checked the road behind him again before turning into the driveway. Since Mariel didn’t have a remote, he climbed out, punched in the code Mariel gave him on the panel set into the stone pillar and the tall gates swung open. They continued down a long drive, where blue agapanthus bordered a healthy lawn on one side, a row of old pines on the other. Ivy climbed the walls and iron lace framed a wide veranda. As they came to a stop three security lights winked on, but no light shone through the front door’s stained glass.

He peered up at the blackened windows. ‘Your parents out?’

‘They left for a Pacific cruise yesterday. Thanks for the lift.’ Her eyes flicked to his. He glimpsed nothing in those dark depths, as if she’d blanked all thought.

He didn’t want her to go in yet. Not this way. Hell, not as this polite and distant stranger.

He reminded himself their childhood friendship had been years ago. She wasn’t the young, innocent girl he remembered, with her fairytale dreams. She was a successful, mature and independent woman.

And what a woman she’d grown into. Those youthful curves had only grown lusher, and if it were possible her face more beautiful.