Page 41 of Masquerade

“Well, hallelujah!” Anna rummaged in the bag and pulled out the nightdress. “Take it.”

“I thought you didn’t like him?” Kate caught the nightdress thrown at her, its silky softness falling down her arm.

“I’ve been reserving judgement, but making up with Niall gives him brownie points. Niall is honourable to his core.” Anna did a happy dance. “Honey, you’re the person spending time with him. If kissing him hasn’t scared you back into your burrow, I’d say it’s time to get back on the horse.”

“You’re mangling your metaphors.”

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At ten thirty on Sundaymorning, Kate waited outside her apartment. She’d convinced herself greeting Liam in a public place put the focus on the business side of their relationship, not the lip-locking truce they’d shared after dinner with George.

A car pulled into the curb, and Liam climbed out. The rough-sea roll of Kate’s stomach told her managing her reaction to him was trickier than public and private spaces. She was on alert near him. Microscopic pulses of electricity sparked between them, a steady throb of conscious connection.

“Your car?” She noted his quick swoop towards her and retreat with her bag.

“A rental. A hybrid, electric-petrol engine. Because not every town up the coast has installed charging stations yet.” He stowed her bag in the boot.

Impossible to ignore his fresh scent when she was seated beside him in the front of the car. Like her, he didn’t mix and match but wore the same distinctive cologne. Different this early in the day, the lavender was slightly stronger and a touch of mint enhanced the spicy sweetness. She remembered reading somewhere that in Ancient Rome mint had been an aphrodisiac. She stifled a moan and switched her attention to where his hands rested on the steering wheel. Capable, strong and seeing them stirred memories of how sure his hold had been last night when he’d kissed her.

Stop it, Kate. You’re supposed to be working.

“I usually listen to music on long drives. Do you mind?” A coded question implying he wanted music rather than conversation for this part of the journey. They were back to being business colleagues this morning, and Liam was better at compartmentalising work and kisses than she was.

Kate couldn’t fault his caution. Their last conversation had moved perilously off topic. They’d agreed they enjoyed kissing. Each other. For the next five nights, they were sleeping with only a flimsy apartment wall between them. “Any particular style?”

“You choose.” He gestured to his phone already plugged into the car’s system. “There’s some of everything. A lot from my teens, some for my mother—at least, that’s how I’m explaining Dolly Parton and Johnny Cash—probably more country than pop rock.”

“How did David Campbell slip in?” She scrolled through the playlist.

“I went for swing at one stage, tried to cultivate a cool, suave image.” He glanced at her before steering them into traffic, his face a mask of debonair sophistication.

She chuckled. “Maybe some of The Chicks.Taking the Long Wayseems fitting.”

For the next few hours, he navigated them north via back roads, while she kept her remarks largely to the music that ebbed and soared and rocked around them. They took turns choosing and moved from The Chicks to Keith Urban to Sara Storer, with some Johnny Cash thrown in. She found it endearing to discover the songs he knew every word to, and the beats he tapped out on the steering wheel while his off-key bass baritone belted out “you say you’re lookin’ for someone”.

“Reading and singing,” he said. “Mum’s idea of a classical education. I’ve got a plan for lunch, if that suits?”

“Fine by me.”

His choice was a country-village treasure; a small café with a veranda overlooking a garden rolling gently to a creek. At two o’clock, dogs and small children outnumbered the adults. The break marked a shift in mood. He still drove, but as if by unspoken consent they wound down the windows so, on these meandering country roads, the car filled with snatches of birdsong and distant farm machinery rather than Keith Urban.

Rounding a steep corner, a panoramic feast was suddenly spread before them. He pulled into the layby as if he’d planned this stop, climbed out of the car and stood on the edge of the ridge. Motionless, absorbing the peace. She joined him in time to hear his long, slow release of breath, as if he’d shed some enormous weight.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” His voice was mellow with satisfaction.

A deep valley opened below her. A river threaded through it with afternoon sunlight glinting off the water. Farmland, but with occasional clusters of old-growth forest keeping company with the trees hugging the banks of the river. A few high stratus clouds raced across a radiant blue sky, and a bellbird’s tinkling chime provided the soundtrack. Kate gulped in the crystal taste of country air and cool climates. Grazing fields, macadamia plantations and a mix of other crops were in the near distance. Wind eddied around her, light enough for her not to need a coat.

“I don’t drive this road often.” Her gaze followed the path of a pair of barred cuckoo shrikes. “You knew this place was here.”

“We used to stop here on trips up and down the coast.”

“Your mum’s family property. You said it was sold,” Kate recalled. “Why?”

“Mum and Dad farmed it, but like a lot of farms these days, inheritance meant it had to be sold, and the proceeds split between the siblings.” He was matter of fact, leaving her to imagine the heartbreak behind the decision.

“Your parents couldn’t afford to buy it.”

“The town had been growing. The farm wasn’t far out.” He rolled his shoulders, perhaps to ease the tension in his throat. “It was worth more to a developer than my parents could raise.”

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