Dance with the Devil Read online

  'Loving parents, good home - why did he want to take a risk with drugs? Why do any of them?'

  'Lots of reasons, Emma. Reasons we're trying to sort out here at The Centre. Unfortunately we don't have the staff or the funding to do as much as we'd like.'

  'Money's always a problem, isn't it?'

  'And staff,' he reminded her. 'Not everybody's prepared to work in these conditions for basic pay. Diane's a gem - she has a private practice here as a psychologist, but she counsels The Centre kids for free.'

  Before Emma could comment, Chayse walked in and placed four takeaway containers on the table.

  'Chinese, Italian and greasy chips,' he commented. 'That shop next door sure offers good variety.'

  Emma tried hard to suppress a grin, but when she caught the twinkle in Drew's eyes, it escaped as a chuckle.

  Chayse looked at her in mock indignation. 'As a connoisseur of fast food, and having sampled every takeaway between here and Brisbane, Emma, I can assure you you're in for a treat.'

  She smiled, not so much at Chayse's light-hearted attempt at humour, but at the look of approval and acceptance he flashed her.

  By mid afternoon they'd made considerable progress through the files. Drew and Emma looked for cases which involved Drew, Dario and the judge, and Chayse checked up on the whereabouts of those defendants who had been sent to prison. His easy camaraderie with Mick over the phone added to Emma's suspicions that he was tied up with the police force in some capacity.

  The buzzer sounded in the main office. The three of them tensed. As Drew rose to walk to the door, Chayse was faster. He slipped out the door and flattened himself against the hallway wall opposite. Emma watched his rapid assessment of the main office area, then he was signalling Drew to go ahead.

  Within a minute, Drew returned. 'Carly wants to talk to you, Emma.'

  'Me?' Emma was surprised, but she walked out to greet the girl.

  Carly looked acutely embarrassed. She cast timid glances at Emma from under lowered lashes. Emma waited patiently. When the office door closed behind Drew, Carly visibly relaxed.

  'I…I wanted to ask you about having this baby,' she began shyly.

  'Why me, Carly? Surely your own doctor would answer your questions.'

  Carly's fingers linked beneath her stomach, cradling the bulge. 'I don't have a regular doctor. I go to the hospital for check-ups, but it's not always the same doctor. My mum's dead, and my aunty's told me things, and my friends, but…' She bit her lip and frowned, waif-like in the half-urgent, half-reluctant manner in which her body twisted as though undecided whether to flee or not.

  'And you need to talk to a doctor, preferably a woman,' Emma finished for her.

  Carly nodded, a faint sigh of relief puffing her cheeks. 'I know I can trust you - you're Mr J's woman.'

  Startled, Emma dropped into a chair, motioning for Carly to do the same. 'Why…why do you think I'm Drew - Mr J's woman?'

  'You're the only woman he's ever brought in here, and he treats you like you are.' She shrugged as though it was obvious. 'And you look at him like he's something special.'

  'Do I?' Emma muttered under her breath. This conversation was definitely getting onto dangerous ground. Swiftly taking back the initiative, she gently questioned Carly about her pregnancy.

  Half an hour later, Carly rose to leave. 'Thanks, Dr Randall. You're okay. You gonna be staying around here?'

  For some reason, the fervent denial that rose to her lips became difficult for Emma to say. 'I don't think so, Carly,' she finally answered, and was surprised at the disappointment in the girl's eyes.

  'Too bad. We need someone like you here. Sometimes the kids won't go to a doctor or the hospital 'cause they're afraid they'll get dobbed in to the authorities.'

  'Because they've been up to something illegal?'

  Carly shrugged. 'Lots of reasons. Sometimes if they're underage, they're afraid they'll get taken back home.'

  'And that's a bad thing?' Emma thought she already knew the answer, but Carly's reply confirmed it.

  'Yeah. That's where they got hurt in the first place.' She turned towards the door. 'But I guess that's not your problem if you're not gonna stay.'

  Emma sat for some time after Carly left, mulling over what the girl had said. For many years she had concentrated on the desperate plight of people in other countries, and yes, their need was great, but the dull resignation in Carly's eyes as she spoke about her friends had brought home to Emma the need that existed in her own city.

  It was a need that was hard to disregard.

  The phone was ringing as Emma pulled up in front of her mother's house later that evening. No lights broke the darkness and no dog rushed out to greet her. She pushed down a stab of panic as she raced onto the veranda. The headlights of Drew's vehicle driving in illuminated the door as Emma desperately pushed the key into the lock. She flicked on the light and raced for the phone, grabbing it mid ring.

  The sound of Drew running across the veranda and into the house almost drowned out Trish's voice. Emma held up her hand to him, appealing for quiet. For the next few minutes as she spoke to her mother, she watched Drew pace the floor, his dark brows lowered, his anger almost palpable.

  The effort it was costing him to restrain that anger was evident in the tight way he asked her if Trish was all right. Emma explained that Bruno had reacted to a tick bite and Trish had taken him to the vet. He was being kept there overnight so Trish had decided to stay at Kirri's apartment and bring him back in the morning.

  Drew nodded, obviously relieved.

  Then he exploded.

  'What the hell do you think you're doing, running into a dark house! The bloody killer could have been waiting for you! Don't you ever do anything so damned foolish again.'

  Emma was just about to retaliate that it was not his house and she'd do as she damned-well pleased when the memory of Dario hit her. Had he been lured into unlocking his door by something that had seemed perfectly normal at the time?

  Hell, the killer could have been waiting for her to come in to answer the phone. Could even have been calling from a mobile phone to get her into the house!

  Drew's hands shook, and Emma realised the scare she had given him. 'I'm sorry. I didn't think.'

  His shoulders relaxed, his anger visibly dissipating. 'Just try to be more careful, will you?'

  Unwilling to tell him how foolish she felt, she simply nodded. He was staring at her, a kaleidoscope of emotions in his eyes. Lust she could have coped with, rationalised as mutual chemistry to be ignored, but it was the love she read there that pulled at her heart. Reluctantly she allowed it to seep into her bones.

  She knew instinctively that he was a man who would cherish the woman he loved, and the knowledge warmed her, creating a need she had long denied.

  She wanted him. Needed him.

  Not just physically. Although that need was almost overwhelming.

  Emotionally.

  She had to make love with him again. Had to see if what they'd shared that first time was real, or just a heightened sense of pleasure because of her emotional state at the time. And maybe it would be enough, enough that she could return to her work with the memory to sustain her.

  He must have sensed the change in her. He stepped towards her, his eyes questioning, then he stopped.

  She would have to ask. Passionate and strong though he was, she knew he would never take her by force, nor take advantage of their physical attraction to coerce her into making love with him and risk seeing her regret.

  The air between them seemed to shimmer with their unspoken need. The silence grew, lengthened.

  At last Emma spoke.

  'I want to make love with you, Drew.'

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Her words shattered in the air like fine crystal.

  If she'd expected to see joy on his face, she was mistaken. He drew back into himself, a small shimmer of hurt narrowing his eyes.

  'Why, Emma?'

  Suddenly aware
how badly she'd handled the moment, Emma hesitated. She'd begged him to make love with her once, her father's death and her narrow escape from the crocodile splitting open her self-protective cocoon and allowing her to reach out for what she'd so desperately needed. He had given her the warmth and passion and caring her soul had craved.

  And she had rejected him afterwards.

  But what could she tell him now? He deserved her honesty, she couldn't promise him what she couldn't give.

  'I need you.'

  A self-protective wariness glinted in the blue depths of his eyes. The skin over his cheekbones went taut. It brought a harshness to his features that made her heart ache.

  'And I'm afraid.'

  'Afraid of what?'

  'Of hurting you. I've come to admire you, to care about you. Care about you very much. But I don't know if I can love you.' Her voice trembled. 'I…don't know if I can love anyone. And I don't want to let you think there's more between us than that.'

  Relief eased the tension from his face. A wry smile touched his mouth. 'At least it's a start.'

  He closed the gap between them, reached out and gently cupped her face in his hands. 'I'm a patient man.'

  His lips were soft on hers, but within seconds her blood sang in her veins. Their bodies sought each other, pressing closely, their clothes an intolerable barrier. Emma deepened the kiss, tasting the sweet underside of his tongue with hers, revelling in the passion surging between them.

  She had never before known the desperate need that pulsated through her body, making her throb with lust. The urge to touch him was too strong to be denied. She pulled at the buttons on his shirt, ripping them open so her fingers could explore the rich textures of skin, curls and firm muscle.

  It was a shock when he pulled back from her, his face contorted in frustration.

  'Damn! I don't have any protection.'

  Emma gathered her wits, surprised at how easily he had drawn her in to such a deep sensual state. 'I have.'

  She almost laughed at the shock on his face, then sobered as it was replaced by suspicion.

  'Don't look at me like that. I bought them as part of my medical supplies.'

  A dark eyebrow raised.

  Emma did laugh, then. 'In the valley, medical emergencies come in all guises, Drew. I don't condone my patients being sexually active too young but it's better to supply them with contraceptives than have them get some girl pregnant at sixteen.'

  'Or at any age if she doesn't want to be.' The nuances in his tone reminded her of her own situation.

  'That's something I'll deal with if and when the time comes,' she said firmly.

  'We will deal with.'

  Emma froze for a second, torn between independence and desire. 'Okay,' she finally conceded, but had to suppress a tiny shiver of joy at the thought of having Drew's child.

  Drew watched Emma's retreating back for a moment before following her out to the vehicle. A great rock of frustration weighed in his chest. At last he'd gained some ground with her. She wanted him. But not how he needed her to want him.

  When they'd made love before, it had been with passion, with all her barriers down. She had been out of control, and he'd loved her for it. Loved the way she'd reached for him, as though he was everything she'd ever needed out of life.

  But now her control was back in place. That damn control that enabled her to cut him out of her life when it suited her. Well, now it didn't suit him.

  'I don't need any help,' she said as he followed her.

  'With Bruno at the vet's, I'm not taking any chances.' He watched as she took a small box from the carton of supplies. The mere thought of slipping a condom on so he could enter her gave him an arousal of unprecedented proportions. But he made himself breathe deeply, forced his will to dominate his body. This time he would be in control.

  Locking the front door, he took the box from Emma. 'Your bedroom or mine?'

  Suddenly Emma wished she hadn't initiated the situation. The tension between them was almost unbearable. But the need, the desire, the desperate urge to make love with him was equally strong.

  'Mine,' she whispered.

  As she went to turn on the bedroom light, Drew's hand closed over hers. He led her to the double bed and switched on the bedside lamp. Its soft glow illuminated the room, casting gentle shadows across their still figures.

  Emma sensed a subtle shift in the way Drew looked at her now. Before, she thought he would not have used force to get his way with her. Now she realised he didn't have to. His inherently powerful sexuality was enough to cause her to tremble.

  But the sure movements of his hands as he unbuttoned her blouse and slipped it off, and the shudderingly erotic kisses trailing down her neck to the valley between her breasts, warned her the rules had changed.

  She barely noticed her bra slipping to the floor - the sheer ecstasy as he drew her nipple into his mouth spun her senses. For long, beautifully torturous minutes his lips and teeth rasped and suckled one peak then the other. He slid her jeans down and caressed her through the soft lace of her panties.

  Before she was aware of how swiftly it had happened, she was lying naked on the bed, and Drew's clothes had joined hers on the floor. She'd seen his naked body before, but now she caught her breath. In full arousal and his body quivering with barely controlled passion, he was magnificent.

  She reached out, and elicited a jerky groan as his tender flesh quivered beneath her touch.

  She was a helpless victim to the fire in his eyes. And he was ruthless in his determination. His slow, sensuous kisses seemed to cover every portion of her skin, sizzling like fire on ice, while his fingers slipped inside her, moving gently in her soft, moist warmth.

  Just when she felt she couldn't take any more, when her body was screaming out to be filled, she vaguely heard the rip of foil. Then his lips were on hers, tasting, demanding, while he entered her in one long, slow movement.

  It felt so right, so damned unbelievably wonderful, that she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him deeper into her. Then she stopped, savouring the sheer bliss invading her body. Drew, too, was still, and she looked into his eyes and saw a reflection of her own rapture.

  He moved slowly. Long, sure, slow thrusts as he captured her mouth with his, a kiss so erotic and sensual that mind and body melded until she could no longer think, only feel.

  Feel his firm lips weaving magic with her soft ones, the heat of his body covering hers, his thick silky hair between her fingers. Her hands slipped down his neck, teased his flat nipples.

  A deep, pulsing pleasure grew within her. She moved faster against him, desperate to reach its zenith, but he refused to hurry. She almost screamed in frustration at the deliberate slowness of his thrusts. The pleasure grew and grew. The tension arched her body as the little spasms began. Her head thrashed from side to side, fingernails digging into his arms.

  Only then did Drew allow himself the pleasure of matching Emma's need. He pounded into her, giving her what she longed for. And as she cried his name and shuddered beneath him, her womb contracted around him and the fullness in his groin exploded, carrying him to the ecstasy he'd found with her once before.

  Emma barely registered the weight of Drew's body on hers. But his tender kiss, his murmured endearments and gentle caresses, sank into her soul.

  She nuzzled his neck, enjoying the masculine scent of him, hungry still for the touch of his skin on hers. She had promised herself this one night, she'd thought it would suffice her for the long lonely nights when she was back in foreign lands, dealing with the traumas of war and famine. But as Drew's lips found hers and the mindless ecstasy engulfed her again, she wondered if a lifetime with him would ever be enough.

  They made love once more before giving in to a more mundane hunger. Drew showered while Emma cooked a simple stir-fry and rice. Their conversation centred on equally mundane matters, as though by unspoken agreement their relationship was out of bounds.

  While Drew made coffee, Emma had a qu
ick shower. Her fingers flew across her sensitised flesh, not daring to linger. To her amazement, she still wanted him. Twice had not been enough. If she aroused herself now she would not be able to restrain herself long enough to talk. And she had a question that needed answering.

  She wrapped a sarong around her naked body and joined Drew in the living room. He was sitting on the lounge, waiting for her to join him, but she sat on a single chair. She couldn't trust herself to be so close to him without touching him. And she knew where that would lead.

  'Drew, Chayse is involved with the police, isn't he?'

  His startled look was swiftly replaced by withdrawal. 'What gives you that idea?'

  'I'm not a fool, Drew. He knows too much about everything - the judge, police procedures. You never even said he existed, and he's evasive about what he does for a living. So which side of the law is he on?'

  Drew laughed, and the tightness gripping Emma eased.

  'He's a cop, Emma. The reason I don't mention him is he works undercover a lot. He operates out of Brisbane. When he comes home he usually stays with me, but with the house burnt down Mick offered him a bed. In the work he does he has to be careful. I guess trying to protect him is just a habit.'

  'He said something similar.'

  A dark eyebrow raised. 'Discussing family secrets?'

  'Only the good ones,' she smiled. Then she stood up. 'I'm going to bed.' It was an invitation, and he knew it. In one fluid motion he stood before her, his fingers tracing above the sarong across her breasts, then drawing circles around the knot. Emma shivered, his touch more arousing than any erotic thoughts.

  Somewhere, in the deepest recesses of her mind, she hoped she wasn't courting future heartbreak, but for now she ignored logic and gave in to the strongest desire she had ever known.

  Dawn streaked pale gold across rugged green bushland and filtered through Emma's bedroom curtains. Drew propped on one elbow and looked at her. Strands of toffee-coloured hair whispered fine lines across her high cheekbones. Her lips were slightly parted, and his urge to kiss them was great.