The Dare Collection: March 2018. Nicola Marsh

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I had one.

      ‘Honestly, I’m not fussed where we eat.’ She patted my forearm and removed her hand. ‘It’s been a long day, so I’d be happy with fast food and an early night.’

      ‘You just want to get me naked as soon as humanly possible,’ I said, grinning when she blushed. ‘You’re so predictable.’

      ‘Am not,’ she said, with a defiant tilt of her head. Her nonchalant act would’ve worked too, if I hadn’t glimpsed the naughty gleam in her eyes. ‘I am hungry, but if you want to grab something and head back to my place...’

      Best invitation I’d heard all day but this date was about proving a point and that was exactly what I’d do. Our strong sexual connection wasn’t conducive to showing her how different we were outside the bedroom and how we could never be anything more than bonking buddies.

      ‘How about fish and chips on Manly beach?’

      If my subtle change of subject surprised her, she didn’t show it. Instead, she nodded. ‘It’s a long way from the Cross to Manly by car.’

      ‘We’ll take the ferry.’

      Her eyes lit up. ‘Would you believe I’ve lived in Sydney my whole life and never been on the Manly ferry?’

      ‘Never?’

      She glanced away, her shoulders slumping a little. ‘I got chauffeured everywhere. By Dad, our chauffeur and later Bardley’s driver.’

      ‘Bardley. I still think it’s such a bullshit name,’ I snarled, hating the stab of jealousy at her casual use of her ex’s name.

      ‘Totally.’ She laughed and slipped her hand into mine. ‘I’ve never eaten fish and chips on the beach either, so I’m in.’

      Wouldn’t her family have a fit if they knew their little princess was being taken on a no-frills date involving simple food and a ferry? It made me wonder, did she miss her old life at all?

      She might hate her ex but it had to be tough living a life of luxury, then leaving it all behind. Considering how hard we’d worked today filling that urgent order, she must do that all the time with Remy. Throw in the small apartment, and it had to be a big comedown from her previous life. I admired her all the more.

      ‘Do you miss your old life?’

      She stiffened as we strolled back to the car. ‘Where did that come from?’

      ‘Curiosity.’ I opened the car door for her and waited until she sat before closing it and getting in the driver side. ‘Bit of a comedown, switching from chauffeurs to ferries.’

      She took an eternity to answer, as if formulating an acceptable answer. ‘I miss my family. And some of my friends. But that lifestyle was never important to me.’

      That was where we differed. Every luxury I could afford now was testament to how far I’d come. How far I’d proved Father wrong.

      Not that I took my wealth for granted or flaunted it, but I revelled in my hard-earned success. And thanked the old bastard every day for spurring me on to become the man he never thought I could be.

      ‘So you’re not in touch with anyone from your old life?’

      We stopped at a traffic light and I shot her a glance. Her lips were compressed and her arms folded, protecting herself from...what? Memories? Sadness? Me?

      ‘No.’

      A short, sharp response that clearly meant she didn’t want to talk, so I remained silent until we reached Circular Quay, bought tickets and boarded the ferry.

      But I couldn’t let it go. Gaining an insight into her past would make it easier for me when this thing between us ended. I liked Abby. I didn’t want to hurt her. Knowing what made her tick beyond the superficial would ensure I could let her down gently. ‘Have you ever thought about getting in touch with your family?’

      I expected her to shoot me down again with a death glare. Instead, she stared at the Opera House, lost in thought.

      ‘Yeah, I think about getting in touch with Mum. I miss her.’ She dragged her gaze away from the white sails and focussed on me. ‘You’ll think I’m an idiot, but I even drove past a day spa we used to go to together the other day, hoping for a glimpse of her.’

      ‘You miss her. That’s not stupid.’ I slung an arm over her shoulder and cradled her close. ‘I miss Remy when I’m overseas. It’s normal. Family has a way of getting under our skin.’

      Though not always in a good way. Dad had been testament to that.

      ‘I can’t believe she hasn’t reached out after a year, you know?’ She rested a hand on my thigh, a comfortable, intimate gesture that secretly thrilled me.

      She trusted me. Trusted me enough to talk about her past. But was I worthy of that trust?

      ‘A whole year without so much as a phone call.’ She shook her head. ‘What kind of a mother does that?’

      I didn’t have a clue, considering I had nothing but good memories of mine and our happy times in the kitchen. But I had to offer some comfort, otherwise this date was heading south fast.

      ‘I’m guessing your father rules the roost, so maybe she’s doing the best she can, trying to keep the peace in her marriage and not piss him off?’

      Respect shimmered in her eyes as she gazed up at me from beneath long lashes. ‘Dad is the boss and what he says goes, but she wouldn’t have to tell him.’

      ‘If she’s anything like you, I can’t see her sneaking behind his back. You’re far too principled for that and she probably is too.’

      ‘Stop sounding so logical,’ she said, her admonishment tempered with a smile. ‘Anyway, enough of my depressing family.’ Her smile faded and she squirmed a little, appearing uncomfortable. ‘I don’t know much about your family beyond the fact your parents died when you were young.’

      I stiffened, my thigh flexing involuntarily beneath her palm, and she stroked my leg, offering comfort. If she only knew...it would take a lifetime of placating to ease the pain any thought of my parents elicited.

      ‘Is that all Remy told you?’

      She nodded. ‘Said your mum died when he was fifteen, your dad when he was twenty.’ Pity darkened her eyes. ‘That means you would’ve been ten when you lost your mum...must’ve been tough.’

      ‘You have no idea.’

      Mum had been my champion, my rock, my buffer. She kept Dad away from me, sensing his hatred even though he never did anything overt towards me in front of her.

      And I blamed the old prick every day for ultimately driving her to her death. Because of me.

      ‘Tell me about her.’ Abby spoke softly, her tone laced with gentle persuasion, like discovering more about my family background would somehow give her a handle on me.

      Yeah, like that would happen.

      But

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