Combatting Fear Page 12

  The pink tip of Neve’s tongue trailed over her lower lip, and every logical thought fled from his mind.

  Chapter 17

  Neve tensed as Micah lowered his head a fraction. How could she so desperately desire a man who stood for everything she detested?

  He paused, asking, their breaths colliding in a fiery stream, and she reached to brush her lips lightly across the warm silk of his. It was just the lightest brush of his lips across hers, but it was enough to set her on fire. His wine-fruity tongue darted out, and solid arms drew her closer. Time slowed as warmth wrapped around her and she kneaded sturdy flesh. She couldn’t help but slide her hands around to the back of his neck and curl her fingers into his thick hair.

  This was where she wanted to be.

  There was a knock on the cabin door, and Neve leapt out of his scorching embrace. His hand reached across the space between them, but there was another knock and he let it drop.

  “Who is it?” he called.

  “It’s Bronwyn Travaglia. My family is having a lamb roast for dinner and thought you might like to join us.”

  Crap! Bronwyn thought Neve was spending the day with Tony. It didn’t relieve the guilt at all pretending it was a kindy matter. Well, Rowan was one of her students, but the tingle on her lips exposed the lie. Neve touched a finger to her mouth. Micah was a muddle of contradictions, and it was messing with her head.

  “Sorry, I’m in the middle of something. Thanks for the offer,” Micah said.

  Neve swallowed the lump in her throat. Tony was mad at her, and now she’d lied to her best friend. This mess just got worse by the minute. Neve stared at the carpet, but Micah’s warmth was close by.

  “Um, I’m sorry about that,” he said. “I shouldn’t have . . .”

  What the—? “Oh what, so kissing the kindy teacher wasn’t part of your grand plan?”

  “Neve, don’t be mad. It’s just that, well, my priority needs to be bringing Rowan home.”

  What a prat. He couldn’t backpedal any faster if he were rolling down a hill. Message received loud and clear. No matter the attraction between them, he belonged to someone else, and that wasn’t any place she was willing to go anyway.

  “I’d better head home,” she said.

  He walked silently beside her. At the car, she thought he was going to open the door, but he paused with a hand on the handle. Then he pulled a wallet from his back pocket.

  “I’d like to at least give you some petrol money for today.”

  “I don’t want your money.”

  He dragged his fingers through his hair.

  “You know, I don’t use my money to get my own way. I’m not like that.”

  “Did you forget I’m only here because you’re buying a child for two million dollars?”

  With a rush he was in her face, pinning her against the car with a hand on either side, his eyes narrowed. “I’m not buying any old child. I’m giving my wife what she wants so I can have my child in my care. It’s not the same thing.”

  “Isn’t it?” She ground her teeth.

  Woah, he was so close that her body wanted him to close the distance and lean against her. No, it wasn’t right or sensible to trust him. Least of all with something as precious as her heart. He’d buy his kid tomorrow, and she’d never see him again. There was nothing in a place like Turners Gully for a man like this.

  “Besides, the key word here is wife, isn’t it?” she added.

  The disgust in his eyes scalded her. Abruptly he growled and stormed to the cabin steps. With his back to her, he took a series of quick breaths.

  “You of all people should know things aren’t always as they seem,” he said. After a few moments, his shoulders relaxed and his balled fists slackened. “You can’t blame me for something that happened to you twenty years ago, but it doesn’t matter, because after tomorrow, you won’t need to see me again.”

  He strode inside, and she heard him slide the chain on the door.

  Chapter 18

  There were no kindy sessions on Mondays, but Neve often helped with playgroup in the morning. For the past two hours, she’d been glancing out the window every few minutes. There was still no sign of Micah.

  Maybe he didn’t want her help after their little tiff last night. Hell, with his resources he might have just decided to pay someone else to do the dirty work. No, that wasn’t fair. It was obvious he cared about Rowan, and Chelsea, too, for that matter. He was either still madly in love with her or just plain crazy, and Neve wasn’t sure which scenario appealed the least.

  Then again, he might have gotten into a sticky situation last night. What if he’d gone looking for Chelsea on his own and found Dave? Various bad scenarios piled up like a clique of darts congregating around a bullseye. It was all she could do to stop herself from phoning him.

  At eleven fifteen, all the kindy mums hustled out the door, and shortly after that, Neve said good-bye to the playgroup coordinator. As she shut down her computer, movement on the footbridge caught her eye. Micah strolled from beneath the willow trees and looked straight through the window at her. In the throng of playgroup traffic, she hadn’t noticed the Bentley parked in the shadows.

  Her stomach flipped with a strange mix of anticipation and anxiety. What a silly reaction. They’d only shared one kiss. It didn’t mean anything, and it wasn’t like she coveted a rich man. Sure, she was lonely sometimes, and he was ridiculously handsome, but it was a conscious choice to stay single. It made her life with Tony simpler. Besides, Micah wasn’t any different from any other bloke, other than those delicious eyes and spicy scent, and then there was the passion and chivalry.

  Okay, he might be a notch or two above anyone she’d ever kissed, but he still put his trousers on one leg at a time. Bugger, thinking about him without trousers was not an image she wanted when she was trying to keep her distance.

  The front door opened before she got there, and Micah was backlit in the frame. His broad shoulders tapered to narrow hips and long legs, presenting a commanding presence that sent a shiver up her spine. He shifted a gift-wrapped box under his arm. The tipper truck they’d bought at the shopping centre.

  Head bowed and voice low, he said, “I’m going to get Rowan now.”

  “Do you still want my help?”

  His shoulders rose and fell. “I’ll manage on my own if I need to. I always do.”

  Being given a way out should make her grateful, but she needed to know Rowan was all right, and if her presence would make him less scared, she had to go. Besides, Micah might be acting unruffled, but no doubt he was nervous as hell about the hand over.

  “But you don’t have to go alone. I said I would come.”

  Micah peeked from under those long lashes, with a miserable expression. “I’m sorry I involved you in this, but once I have Rowan, I promise I won’t bother you again.”

  Neve shut her eyes tight. He was making a break, as she knew he would once he had what he came for. It wasn’t a surprise, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him know how much it hurt to hear it.

  With no more than a nod, Micah turned and headed for the car. Wow, the Kincaid charm had completely vanished. She grabbed her handbag, locked the kindy door, and hurried after him. When he reached the back of his car, his shoulders shrugged up and down with a sigh, and he made his way to the passenger side and opened the door for her.

  “Thanks.”

  They drove through several rural townships, turned left at the Meadows service station, headed towards Echunga, and that’s when she got impatient.

  “Okay, where are we meeting Chelsea?”

  “An obelisk on the corner of Stock Road at Mylor.”

  “That’s nearly to Stirling. Why so far away?”

  “No idea. I’m past the point of asking questions.”

  “Maybe she’s staying in Mylor.”

  Micah grunted. “Maybe she wanted to send me on a wild-goose chase so I won’t know where she is staying.”

  Inside the tow
nship of Mylor, they passed a Care for Our Wildlife sign and slowed to fifty kilometres per hour. There was a Country Fire Service station perched on a rise, a row of early twentieth-century homes with picket fences, and a fodder shop. The front page of the newspaper was propped in a wire cage against a tree, and a tripod blackboard indicated the lunch specials at the general store.

  Micah slowed as they approached a school crossing, and then pulled onto the grassy verge. Across the road was the obelisk. Neve scanned the intersection and squinted at the dense foliage along the creek.

  Nothing.

  When he got out of the car, so did she.

  “What time are they supposed to be here?” she asked.

  He glanced at his watch. “Twelve. We’re five minutes early.”

  There was a constant stream of traffic passing on the main road and a tennis club two hundred metres away. Not a spot she’d choose for a secret rendezvous. Then again, perhaps Dave thought a public place provided Micah with less opportunity to deceive them.

  The monument stood in the centre of a circular, paved area, bordered by squared-off hedges in brick garden beds. She wandered over to it and read the inscription: “Lest we forget 1914 – 1919. In memory of our boys who fell in the Great War.” There was a list of names—local lads who’d given their all for their country. An Australian flag flapped above.

  She wandered along the creek, searching the dappled shadows for hidden figures. With Dave involved, she didn’t want to be caught by surprise again. Honeyeaters flitted through grevillea bushes, raising a cacophony of excited chirps as they feasted on the spidery blooms. It was a couple of minutes past twelve when she sat on a park bench in the sun to wait.

  “Something’s not right,” Micah said.

  “Give them a few minutes.”

  He stood with a rigid back, shifting his weight from foot to foot, looking ready to bolt at any moment. He didn’t deserve to be tortured like this. Even a strong business tycoon needed someone to lean on every now and then. She swallowed her animosity and went to him, laced her fingers with his. Even with her gaze resolutely ahead, his head turn and searching eyes were palpable. A few minutes later, the tension drained from his arm.

  He jerked when his mobile phone rang. “Kincaid.”

  Neve leant closer but couldn’t hear the person on the other end.

  “Where are you?” he barked.

  She tapped Micah on the shoulder and mouthed, “Put it on speaker.”

  He nodded and pressed the button. Chelsea’s familiar, whiny voice was loud and clear.

  “I can’t bring Rowan to you anymore.”

  “You bitch! I’ve transferred the money, now give me my son.” The usual warmth in his eyes warped into something hard and wild. Neve backed up a step as a flush of rage raced across his skin.

  “I can’t,” Chelsea whimpered.

  “You mean you won’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Mikey, I was going to hand him over today, honest I was.” She sounded distressed.

  “Where the hell is my son?” he yelled, pacing. “That’s it, I’m involving the police.”

  There was the sound of a scuffle. A slap.

  “Don’t, Boiler,” Chelsea cried.

  A steely voice growled down the line, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Kincaid.”

  It didn’t sound like Dave. Neve and Micah exchanged a look.

  “Who is this?” Micah asked.

  “What’s really important is that your wife and son are staying with me until I get what I want.”

  The underlying menace in Boiler’s words sunk in slowly, and hairs prickled along Neve’s arms. She gulped in oxygen, but it wasn’t enough to stop her head spinning. Micah fumbled the phone but caught it before it hit the ground.

  “Are you still there?” Boiler asked.

  Micah grimaced. “What do you want?”

  “Anyone can Google what you’re worth, and I got to thinking Chelsea is aiming way too low. What’s the point in asking a multi-billionaire for a couple of mill? You probably throw that kind of cash across the craps table in the casino. So, I want you to transfer ten million dollars into an offshore account. My very creative accountant here has set it up already.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I can’t get my hands on that much.”

  “Shut up,” Boiler yelled. “I’m not asking.”

  “You idiot, my net worth is made up of assets and equities, not cash flow.”

  “Just get it done.”

  “I’m going to hunt you down like the cockroach you are and kill you with my bare hands if you hurt Chelsea or Rowan,” Micah snarled.

  The answering laugh from the other end of the line was chilling.

  “What do you think I’m going to do if you don’t pay up, Kincaid? Knock the little wife around a bit? Let the boys take turns with her?”

  Neve laid a hand on Micah’s arm as he turned beetroot red.

  “If you don’t come through, you’ll need an excavator to dig them up. In fact, if you make me wait too long or even think about calling the cops, I might just send them to you in little pieces. Do we understand each other?”

  Micah nodded, so Neve jabbed his shoulder.

  “We understand each other,” he said.

  “Now, have you got a pen to write down the bank account number?”

  While Micah patted his pockets, Neve produced a pen and pocket diary from her handbag and held them at the ready.

  “Go ahead,” Micah said.

  Neve scrawled the number as nausea slithered through her belly. “What about Rowan?” she mouthed to Micah.

  “I need to know Rowan’s all right.”

  “I thought you might say that.” Boiler’s voice sounded far away as he called, “Get the kid.”

  Shallow breathing came down the line. “Um.”

  “Rowan, is that you?” Micah asked.

  “Hello?”

  The tiny voice reached into Neve’s chest and twisted her heart inside out. Micah swayed beside her, and she reached out a hand to steady him.

  “Rowan, it’s Daddy. Are you all right? Are you hurt?”

  “No.”

  “You’re not all right?”

  His hand squeezed the phone so tightly it creaked.

  “I’m okay, but I don’t really like it here. Mummy’s acting funny—”

  “That’s enough.” Boiler came back on the line. “I’ll call you again tomorrow, when you have a better idea of how long it’s going to take to make the transfer, but I wouldn’t take too long.” The phone went dead.

  Micah threw his mobile, and it skimmed across the dirt like a pebble skipping waves at the beach, leaving a trail of sandy debris in its wake. He punched the nearest tree and let fly a string of curses as he shook his bloodied hand. Then he lurched, braced both hands on his knees, and vomited.

  Neve clapped a hand over her mouth. The amount of money Boiler wanted was unthinkable. She couldn’t even imagine ten million dollars, let alone one man being able to access all of it.

  Rowan was going to die.

  Chapter 19

  With eyes focused on an imagined destination where his wife and child were being held hostage by vicious bikers, Micah dragged in a shuddering breath. What the hell was he going to do?

  A light pressure on his shoulder radiated warmth across his back like a balm. Neve’s hand. He looked down at her furrowed brow.

  She took his face in both of her hands. “Micah, we’ll get him back.”

  He gave a desultory nod, and bent to pick up the shattered remains of his mobile phone. The fury that had ravaged him moments ago had dissipated into numb disbelief.

  Purpose flickered in Neve’s eyes. “We need to talk to Jack before we do anything else.”

  He needed to be doing something. In the business world, he didn’t trust his competition to play fair, and he wouldn’t expect Boiler to keep his part in their deal. Micah’s family was far too precious not to utilise every resource available to him, and if that meant Jack, the
n so be it. He headed for the car with long strides and was in the driver’s seat turning over the engine when Neve hammered on the bonnet.

  “You aren’t in any fit state to drive safely, so get out.”

  “I don’t have time for this.” He glared at her.

  “Getting Rowan home safely means keeping you safe too.”

  After a tense battle of glares, he cuffed the steering wheel, got out and jogged around to the passenger side.

  It was an agonisingly slow journey as Neve stuck to the speed limit. Playing on repeat was the sound of the slap on Chelsea’s cheek, her scream, Rowan’s tiny voice, “I don’t really like it here . . .” He had to get them away from the Mutts, no matter the cost.

  “They’re holding Chelsea against her will.” Micah’s voice was raspy. “They don’t trust her. What does that mean?”

  “It means she’s expendable,” Neve said flatly.

  “Bloody hell, I don’t need to hear that right now.” Once Boiler had the money, Rowan would be expendable too. Crap, it’s not her fault. She was only speaking the truth. “Shit! Chelsea, you’ve really fucked up this time.”

  He reached across the console and placed a hand over Neve’s. Instead of snatching it back, as he’d expected, she threaded her fingers between his.

  Jack appeared in the doorway of the shed as they alighted from the Bentley.

  “What are you doing here in the middle of the day?” he said.

  Neve ushered Jack inside. “Something’s happened and we need your help.”

  “Okaaay.” He sounded cautious.

  “Rowan’s mother was supposed to hand him over to Micah today, but when she phoned, another man came on the line and said he’s holding Rowan and Chelsea until Micah pays ten million dollars.”

  The gravity of the situation hung in the air like a noxious smell.

  Jack rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t know which I believe less, that someone is being held hostage in Turners Gully or that anyone actually has that kind of money.” He eyed Micah.

  “That’s the problem,” Micah said. “I can’t get my hands on it in any hurry. I need to find Rowan and get him out of there. You don’t know what kind of people we’re dealing with.”