Black Ice Page 2

  His handshake had been a shock. Skin meeting skin with … her mind finally admitted the words … surprising familiarity. Her interest had flared at the sound of his accent, and she'd chided herself at her disappointment as she'd studied his face. There was no familiarity in the features, even the colour of his eyes wasn't the same. Would she ever get over this compelling need to know! Heaven help her, it was two years! Surely -

  She shook her head, turned her attention to the sales docket she was writing. But her mind still churned. She asked herself again why she'd opened this second gallery in another of Queensland's top tourist spots. Had it really been to promote her and Trish's names in the market, or to place herself in a position where she might meet someone who recognised her?

  With a smile she knew didn't reach her eyes Kirri handed the docket to the customer while Jenny finished taping cardboard over the protective bubble-wrap surrounding the paintings.

  Further down, on the other side of Hastings Street, a surfer lounging in a sidewalk cafe chair paused in raising a beer can to his mouth. He watched Daniel Brand emerging from the art gallery. As the American stepped onto the pavement, the surfer's vision was obscured by a Pajero four-wheel drive pulling into a "No Standing" zone in front of his table. The surfer jumped to his feet, almost colliding with the Pajero's driver hurrying from the vehicle.

  Brand was almost at the pavement's edge, and the surfer relaxed when he spotted him again. Then the sound of the Pajero's engine still running caught his attention. A smile lit his face. He dashed around to the driver's side, tossing the can into the gutter as he went. In seconds he was in the driver's seat, gunning the accelerator.

  Kirri's gaze was drawn to the display window, to the tall figure of Daniel Brand stepping off the pavement between two parked cars. He glanced around briefly and began walking across the street. Halfway across he hesitated, then spun on his heel and looked back at the gallery. His white T-shirt formed ripples as his muscles bunched in tension, and he stepped back in her direction.

  Kirri saw the four-wheel drive, saw the way it veered from the other side of the road, tyres howling; saw the bullbar slam into the American as he tried to leap to safety. She saw his body spin forward and sideways; heard the thud as his head thumped into the windscreen of a stationery BMW.

  His unconscious body slid off the bonnet to the bitumen.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Daniel opened his eyes as consciousness returned. Light shafted pain through his head and spun nausea through his stomach. He closed them again.

  'Doctor, he opened his eyes.'

  The soft voice stirred his senses. Kirri! What was she doing here? The smell of antiseptic and squeak of rubber soled shoes on vinyl floors told him here must be a hospital. He moved, just enough to let him know that nothing was encased in plaster and all of his limbs still functioned. It was also enough to tell him he had massive bruising on his right side and a headache he'd be lucky to lose in a week. Asking Kirri her motives for coming to the hospital might be better left until he could think properly.

  Fingers pulled up his right eyelid. A light shone into his eye. The procedure was repeated with his left eye. This was followed by a series of tests and questions before the doctor gave a grunt of satisfaction. 'You must have a remarkably hard skull, Mr Brand.'

  The doctor picked up a clipboard, made a few notes. 'You appear to be showing no signs of severe head trauma, but you definitely have concussion. We'll still do some x-rays. We would have done them by now but with Schoolies Week both Emergency and X-ray are chockers. And apart from bruising and a few cuts you've escaped rather lightly. A wardsman will wheel you around to X-ray in a minute.' He placed the clipboard on the end of the bed and walked out between the curtains that had been pulled around the bed for privacy.

  'Chockers?' Daniel repeated, not sure if his hearing had been affected.

  Kirri chuckled. 'Chock-a-block. Full. Over-flowing.'

  The idiosyncrasies of Australian slang had been a source of amusement for Daniel when Kirri had first explained them, but it was obvious she had missed a few. Or perhaps he'd forgotten in the two years since he'd seen her. Cautiously, he turned his head to look at her. She was sitting beside the bed, close enough to his head that he could see the darker flecks in the clear blue of her eyes and the pale freckles dusted across her nose. 'Schoolies Week?'

  'One of the reasons the Police think you're in here,' she answered dryly. 'The Pajero that hit you had been stolen. The owner left the engine running to dash in and buy a newspaper and when he came out the vehicle was gone. He saw it speeding down the street and swipe you. The police think it might have been joyriding teenagers. Noosa is one of the beaches teenagers converge on for a week of celebrating the end of High School.' She smiled. 'Sort of a rite of passage, I think you'd call it. Kick up your heels before you look for work or go to university.'

  'And stealing cars is part of this rite?'

  'No. But you'll always find some idiot who drinks too much and does something stupid. And it's not just the schoolies. A lot of older people join in the revelries and act even worse than the teenagers.'

  Daniel ran his hand over the woven cotton blanket covering his body and winced as his fingers probed too deeply at his hip and thigh. 'What about you? How did you celebrate your rite of passage?'

  'Well, I lived in Cairns with Mum but my father lived in Sydney, so as soon as the holidays started I flew down there.'

  Daniel's head was beginning to pound, but he was intrigued by Kirri's relaxed manner and her willingness to talk to him. It was in such contrast to her behaviour at the gallery. 'Weren't you happy at home?'

  Kirri hesitated, torn between a natural reticence to divulge such private memories and the surprising need to share exactly that with this man. 'Oh, yes. It's just that Dad had offered to introduce me to the art world in Sydney. He's an artist and that's all I'd ever wanted to be. Mum wasn't happy about it.' A smile curled Kirri's lips, and her eyes twinkled in memory. 'She made sure I had a return air ticket. Then I was accepted to do Art at Uni in Cairns so I was only gone two months.'

  'Did she want to keep you from your father?' Daniel knew there was anger in his voice, and sensed her tensing away from him.

  'No.' Kirri realised she'd answered sharply, but she was surprised by the personal nature of the question. She looked closely at Daniel. The pain in his eyes now seemed more emotional than physical, and she wondered if his anger had come from a childhood hurt. Still, she felt obliged to defend her mother's actions. 'My father had made my mother's life miserable when they were married and she didn't want me to get caught up in his way of life.'

  'But you still shouldn't keep a child from her father,' Daniel persisted, and watched the hurt tighten Kirri's face.

  'Sometimes …' she murmured, the rest of her words stilled by a nurse pulling the curtain aside and a trolley wheeled in by a wardsman.

  As a nurse pulled the blanket aside Daniel muttered, 'I can walk to X-ray.'

  'No you can't, mate,' a burly wardsman grinned, 'hospital rules. But if you'd like to slide across to the trolley while we help, we'd appreciate it. You don't look like you'd be easy to lift.'

  Daniel looked at Kirri, watched her lose the battle to suppress a grin, and sighed his defeat.

  'We won't be long,' the wardsman said to Kirri as Daniel settled gingerly on the trolley, 'there are magazines in the waiting room if you want to read while you wait. They're pretty old, but you might find something interesting if you're lucky.'

  As they sped down the corridor the wardsman casually remarked to Daniel how attractive his friend was, and as he continued to drop none-too-subtle hints about Kirri, Daniel's temper began to fray. It was a relief when they finally reached the X-ray department and the wardsman's chatter was replaced by the quiet professionalism of the radiologist.

  Kirri had studied Daniel's face as she'd sat beside his bed in the Emergency Ward. In his unconscious state he no longer looked troubled, and even, for such a big man, strangely vulnerable. She had begun to relax then, no longer wary of him.

  But as the trolley rumbled back towards her now she could see the American looked decidedly irritable. He eased his bruised body back onto the bed, and she realised the reason for his mood. The wardsman was still talking, and with Daniel's concussion it must have been a bit hard to tolerate.

  The wardsman moved away and a sigh of relief rumbled through Daniel's chest. Kirri tried hard not to grin. But as Daniel looked at her, his mouth curved in a slow smile that made her throat constrict. It was the smile of a man to whom laughter didn't come easily, and she suddenly realised how badly she wanted to make him laugh.

  'It's a wonder they don't have to vaccinate the patients against him,' she said, nodding to the wardsman's retreating back. Again that slow smile lifted Daniel's lips, and Kirri felt a surge of desire that shocked her with its force. Daniel's eyes suddenly narrowed as though he'd picked up on her reaction. Heat flushed her cheeks as she read an answering desire in his eyes. Then his brows squeezed together in pain and he slumped back on the bed.

  'Are you all right?'

  He started to nod, changed his mind. 'Yes. I just need something for my headache and then I'm getting out of here.'

  'Tomorrow, perhaps, Mr Brand.' The doctor stepped up beside Kirri. 'I've just had a look at your x-rays and nothing appears to be broken, but you were unconscious for at least twenty minutes. We'd like to keep you overnight for observation.'

  'I'm sure you have more urgent cases than me needing your bed space, Doctor. If you'll just give me some painkillers, my friend might take me home.' He looked quizzically at Kirri. 'How did you get here, anyway?'

  'I drove.'

  'Good. I'm staying not far from your gallery. Would you mind dropping me off on your wa
y back?'

  'But the police wanted to interview you as soon as you were conscious.'

  A stubborn scowl marked his forehead. 'I'll phone and tell them where I'm staying. They can come there. Or I'll go to them.'

  'Thanks for the lift back, Kirri.'

  Daniel shifted awkwardly in the van's hard seat and tried to make his next words sound casual, but he studied Kirri's face as she concentrated on negotiating the traffic in the busy thoroughfare. 'Why did you come to the hospital?'

  If he missed the flare of annoyance in her eyes, her response soon let him know she'd been offended by his question.

  'Wouldn't you have done the same?'

  Once he would have followed her to the other side of the world, he had loved her so much. But her betrayal had hurt him badly. She slipped him a sideways glance, a slight frown crinkling her forehead, and he wondered again if she truly had forgotten him. If she had, then coming to his aid like this was a remarkably kind gesture. The thought warmed him, and coloured his reply.

  'If I thought you needed my help, yes.'

  The inflection in Daniel's voice made Kirri hesitate slightly before she explained. 'You'd said you were alone. I didn't know how badly you were hurt.' She shrugged, suddenly anxious to dispel the idea that she was overly interested in him. 'I couldn't leave a visitor to fend for himself when he'd been injured. It's bad for our tourist image.'

  Her flippant remark annoyed him. His head felt as though his skull was being compressed and it did little for his mood. Suspicion nagged at him. By nature he was a quiet, even-tempered man, but the past two years had tested his patience to its limits.

  'Was that the only reason?'

  She was silent for so long he thought she wasn't going to answer. When she did he was surprised by the seriousness of her voice. 'I know what it's like to be alone in a strange town and be in need of help.'

  His interest quickened. 'What sort of help?'

  'It doesn't matter now. It was a long time ago.' She flashed him a brilliant smile and the fun-loving spirit that had first attracted him to her was there in full. 'We're nearly back at Noosa. You'd better direct me to where you're staying.'

  'I bet you have a great view from here.' Kirri swung into the driveway Daniel had indicated and switched off the ignition. She gazed at the timber house perched on the side of the steep hill overlooking Laguna Bay. 'Are you renting?'

  'No. A business associate owns it. He'll be joining me in a few days.' He turned his head carefully, pleased that the nausea was slowly ebbing. Kirri's old van would have had trouble with fast acceleration, but even so he could tell she had deliberately driven with great care not to cause him too much movement. 'Come in and have a look at the view.'

  Wariness crept into her clear eyes. For a moment he thought she was going to refuse, then her expression brightened. 'I guess I can get you a cup of coffee and make sure you're going to be okay.'

  He reached for the door handle. 'I'd appreciate that.'

  He'd appreciate it all right. It would save him having to walk back to her art gallery the next day. He'd hired a car after flying up from Sydney, but trying to find an empty parking space in the Sunshine Coast's most popular street was guaranteed to end in frustration, and he'd felt enough of that today. And if his head was no better tomorrow he knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate enough on driving on what to him was the 'wrong' side of the road.

  As she walked ahead of Daniel into the living room, Kirri softly whistled her admiration. Colourful sea print cushions scattered across a white leather lounge contrasted beautifully with the polished timber floor and timber railings separating the dining area. She ran an appreciative hand over a large wooden carving silhouetted against the white wall. It was a set of three reef fish swimming through coral, all carved from the one piece of timber, fine details of eyes and scales etched into the smooth wood.

  'It's a Nobby Clark,' she spoke almost reverently. 'The man's a genius with timber.' And this little beauty would have cost a few thousand dollars, she thought. She looked around. 'Where's the kitchen?'

  The house was rectangular in design, with an open plan living area that took advantage of the hillside position by leading out onto a wide, covered verandah. Daniel led the way into the kitchen, and Kirri saw the verandah also fronted those windows. Although tall eucalyptus trees grew up from the yard below, they didn't obstruct the view out across the clear water of the bay.

  'Coffee's in the pantry.'

  Daniel's voice so close to her sent a quiver through her body. Damn the man, he was far too disturbing, and she still hadn't figured out just what about him was so appealing. He filled the electric jug, took two mugs from a cupboard, placed them on the bench. Kirri took the coffee tin from the pantry, and spooned some into the drip-filter unit next to the jug. Then she placed a teabag in one of the mugs.

  Within minutes the aroma of freshly brewing coffee filled the kitchen. Kirri added hot water to her teabag, took milk from the refrigerator, poured a little into her mug, and raised an eyebrow at Daniel. He nodded, and she poured some into the second mug. Daniel placed one spoonful of sugar in her mug, and one and a half in the other.

  She was returning the milk to the refrigerator when the significance of his action hit her. 'How do you know how much sugar I like?'

  The smile that touched his lips didn't reach his eyes. 'Just a guess.'

  She smiled back, but a tendril of apprehension curled in her stomach.

  They sat on the verandah and gazed out at the calm waters of the bay. The coffee's heat eased the tension in Daniel's stomach, but did little for his throbbing head. He hoped the painkillers the doctor had given him would kick in soon or he'd have a lot of trouble formulating the questions he wanted to ask Kirri. Finally he spoke.

  'Tell me about your daughter.' His gaze had shifted slightly, so he caught the tiny tremor she quickly concealed. She tucked her flyaway curls behind one ear and took a sip from her mug before she replied.

  'Catelyn? She's a terror.' Kirri couldn't seem to help the smile that lit her face. 'She's impatient, inquisitive. She's also the sweetest little girl I've ever known. She charms the socks off everyone she meets and has her grandparents wrapped around her dainty little finger.'

  'How old is she?'

  'Fifteen months.'

  Daniel's fingers tightened on his mug, but his body stayed relaxed in the canvas director's chair. His mind raced, figures tumbling, and he almost groaned aloud as they added up to what he suspected. If he'd wondered before how Kirri could have forgotten him, it was nothing compared to the horrible sense of betrayal that swept him now. But she genuinely appeared not to remember him. Was it an act? Was she playing him for a fool?

  He fought to keep his tone casual. 'Does her father dote on her too?'

  She flinched as though he had struck her. The mug in her hand shook as she stood abruptly. As she turned towards him her smile was bright. Too bright.

  'I'd better get back to the gallery. Jenny's on her own.'

  It seemed to Daniel that she took great care not to come too close to him as she walked past. He hated to see the stiffness in her body, as though she were fighting to control some inner demon. It was such a contrast to the easy, sensual grace he remembered.

  With great care he eased his long body out of the chair. A wave of dizziness hit him, and he reached out for the verandah rail. Just as his left hand touched it, Kirri's arm slid around his waist and steadied him. He closed his eyes. Her warmth, her scent invaded his body. For a moment he was swept back, to a balmy Fall day, a riverboat's engines throbbing through the deck beneath his feet, and Kirri … Kirri with her long red hair teased by a fickle New Orleans' breeze, her clear blue eyes misted by love and desire as she pressed herself against him …

  'Daniel, are you all right?' She was shaking his arm. He opened his eyes, suddenly realising he was pulling her closer, his head bent as though to kiss her, to taste once more the sweetness he knew he would find.

  He dropped his hand, gripped the railing tighter with the other, and drew in a shuddering breath. Between the pounding in his head and the pain in his leg he wouldn't have thought it possible to become aroused, but the rush of heat to his groin was evidence to the contrary.