for arresting Rick. He was a police officer and it was his duty to uphold the law. And once he’d seen what was happening, Rick had made sure all the evidence had pointed to him. Rick had taken the blame and had sworn her to silence. She couldn’t blame Mitch for any of that. But she would never forgive him for using her to bring about that arrest, for lying to her, for betraying her so completely. For making her think he loved her. All in the line of duty.
‘I only meant that I’d heard he’d been doing some good work with troubled youths down in Melbourne. That’s a tough gig. I admire him for taking it on.’
Back then she’d been utterly clueless.
But not anymore. Seemingly innocuous questions or nicely worded flatteries would never draw her again. ‘Well, maybe you’d like to make a donation to that cause the next time you have your chequebook open, Officer King.’
They didn’t speak again. They drove along in a silence that itched and burned and bristled for another hour. Tash didn’t say a word when he turned onto the freeway and headed north. He didn’t volunteer any information either. Now there was a surprise.
Eventually he turned onto a small sealed road that wound effortlessly through bushland with only the odd farm dotted here and there to show any signs of habitation. Before they reached the road’s end Mitch swung the car onto an obscured bush track.
‘This isn’t the way to a nice resort,’ she growled.
‘What on earth gave you the idea I was taking you to a resort?’
Her nose curled. ‘Wishful thinking.’
He grinned and her heart sped up. Just like that. Idiot heart.
‘Then where on earth are you taking me?’ She made her voice tart. ‘Or do we have to wait for a Cone of Silence to descend before that’s to be revealed?’
‘I’m taking you to a cabin.’
Her lip and nose curled this time. ‘Please tell me it has running water and electricity.’
‘It has both.’
How gullible did he think she was? ‘I don’t see any powerlines.’
‘There’s a generator.’
‘Is there a flushing toilet?’
He flashed her a grimace pregnant with apology.
She huffed back in her seat and folded her arms. ‘Why can’t I go to a resort under an assumed name or something? I’ll pay out of my own pocket.’
‘It’s not a question of money, Tash. It’s a question of keeping you safe. The best way of doing that is to make you disappear, take you out of circulation.’
‘You can’t keep me here against my will.’ Though they both knew that, if he chose to, he could.
‘Do you really want to risk leaving?’
She glared out at the ghost gums and banksia trees.
He parked the car beneath a makeshift shelter that blended into the native Australian landscape. ‘We have to walk the rest of the way.’
Oh, this was getting better and better.
He held his hands up at her glare. ‘I swear it’s only three minutes of easy walking.’
It would’ve been easy if it hadn’t been for the bull ants. She yelped the moment she saw the first one.
Mitch spun around. ‘What’s wrong?’
She pointed.
‘For heaven’s sake, you’re wearing work boots. They’re not going to hurt you.’
‘I hate them.’ She’d sat on a nest of them once when she’d been small and she’d never forgotten it. They’d injected so much venom she’d developed a fever that night and had ended up in the emergency room of the local hospital. Her father had clouted her at the time for being so stupid as to sit on an ant nest. Then he’d clouted her when they’d got home from hospital for the additional inconvenience.
The memory made her stomach churn. She pushed a hand into the small of Mitch’s back. ‘Go faster.’ He felt lean and hard beneath her fingertips. ‘In fact, run.’
‘Tash!’ Exasperation laced his voice. He swung around to her, but whatever he saw in her face cut off the rest of his words. He knew she had demons. And she really hated him for that.
Thankfully, he didn’t say a word. With a shake of his head he started to jog, her suitcase tucked easily under one of his arms as if it weighed nothing. She stayed close at his heels, her handbag bumping at her hip and her feet tingling in abhorrence at the thought of ants.
Mitch slowed to a walk when they emerged into a clearing. Tash checked the ground for signs of bull ants before lifting her head. The clearing of lush grass opened up to a view so unexpectedly elemental and beautiful, so unspoilt, it momentarily robbed her of the ability to speak. She stumbled forward, her jaw sagging.
The curve of land they stood on caught an ocean breeze and below stretched a small beach. What the beach lacked in size it made up for in perfect golden glamour—the sand glittering in the sun and the waves whooshing up on the shore in perfect curls, the water stunningly clear and the whitecaps gloriously white. Beyond the bay the sea glimmered blue and green without a whitecap in sight.
To the left of them lounged a largish cabin, screened on its seaward side by wattle trees. The flowers were long gone, but the delicate green tracery moved in the breeze as if dancing to something slow and dreamy. Behind it stood a forest of ghost gums and banksia trees.
‘Where...where are we?’
Mitch turned from unlocking the cabin’s door. His mouth hooked up when he saw where she’d stopped. ‘Pretty, isn’t it?’
‘Beautiful.’ It might just make up for the rustic amenities. Suddenly, spending a few days in a secret cabin with a private beach didn’t seem such a hardship after all.
She followed Mitch inside. She didn’t bother trying to hide her relief.
He grinned. ‘Not as bad as you were expecting?’
The main room, complete with a rug on the floor and a comfy-looking sofa against one wall, was warm and welcoming. To the left was a fully equipped kitchenette, with a microwave oven and bar fridge. A table with three mismatched chairs stood nearby and a solid wooden bookcase full of books and knick-knacks acted as a kind of divider between kitchen and living areas. There were even pictures on the wall.
He gestured to a doorway and Tash moved aside the blanket tacked to its frame to glance inside. It held a big double bed with a blue-and-white patchwork quilt. A white blanket box sat beneath the window. She shook her head, turning on the spot to take it all in. ‘It’s lovely. Truly lovely.’ If she’d owned a cabin, this was exactly what she’d want it to look like. ‘Who owns it?’
He glanced away. ‘I do.’
Her jaw dropped. ‘This is yours?’
‘I
