Six Australian Heroes

‘You told me to buy them.’

‘That was before I worked out what the guy was really up to.’

‘I hate to mention this, Alison, but it takes two to tango. And I have no intention of sleeping with Ryan Armstrong, even if he wanted me to.’

Which he didn’t. But Laura could see where Alison was coming from. Her friend’s view of Ryan’s character had been tainted by what Laura had said about him in the past. If she met him, Alison would see that he wasn’t some kind of sleaze bag who couldn’t go a weekend without sex. As much as it pained Laura to admit it, he’d shown her another side yesterday, one which had both surprised and impressed her.

‘He’s just being kind,’ Laura stated firmly. ‘Now, I have to get going. Ryan’s picking me up at one. Thanks a bunch for coming with me, Alison. I would never have found that dress without you.’

‘Don’t thank me yet,’ Alison said dryly. ‘That is not any old dress. Even if he doesn’t fancy you yet, he will when he sees you in it.’

Laura worried about Alison’s last words all the way home on the ferry. It was a sexy dress. But not over-the-top sexy, she decided once she had the opportunity to have a second look at it in the privacy of her bedroom.

Of course the scarlet colour was a bit in your face. As was the wide, black patent-leather belt which was decorated with rows of silver studs. Still, the fashion world seemed to have become addicted to glamour and glitz during the last few years so it was hard to buy a cocktail dress which wasn’t shiny or didn’t have some bling on it. The same applied to shoes. The black patent high-heels Alison had talked her into buying had the same silver studs decorating the straps which ran up the front of her foot to the wide ankle strap.

Laura winced when she looked at the shoes again. Perhaps it would be wise to wear another pair of shoes, one which was less provocative, and decidedly less dominatrix-inspired. But when she rummaged through her wardrobe in search of something else Laura soon saw that there was absolutely nothing there that wouldn’t look positively dreary. After her break-up with Mario, she’d thrown away all the sexy clothes and shoes that she’d happily worn for him, replacing them with a wardrobe which wouldn’t have stirred a single hormone in any man.

Whilst Laura didn’t actually want to stir Ryan Armstrong’s hormones this weekend, she did want her family to think she was capable of doing so. If a by-product of this was that Ryan might look at her temporarily with different eyes, then so be it. She couldn’t imagine that he would actually make a pass. Why would he when he already had a girlfriend who was no doubt providing him with plenty of sex? Whilst Ryan had a reputation for trading in his girlfriends with monotonous regularity, he did not have a reputation for two-timing. As perverse as it might seem, he was well thought of around Sydney as a man of integrity.

Up until yesterday, Laura had taken that opinion of her esteemed client with a grain of salt. But, now that she’d had more to do with him, she was beginning to feel that he could be trusted, which was a very odd thing for her to think about any man, let alone a swinging-bachelor type like Ryan.

Whatever, she didn’t have time to worry about such matters right at that moment. It was getting on for twelve-thirty, leaving her only half an hour to finish getting ready then have a bite to eat before Ryan arrived. At least she was already dressed in decent clothes, even if they were just jeans and a simple white shirt. Overnight, she’d considered buying herself something else to wear for the drive up there—a skirt and sweater, perhaps. But it had taken all her time this morning to find the red dress. And, really, jeans were sensible for wearing on a country weekend.

Neither was she going to leave her hair down. She hated having it hang around her face all day; It was bad enough that she had to wear it down for dinner tonight. But she would compromise by putting it up into a ponytail which was a little more feminine than her usual style. Plus she would wear lipstick. Not red lipstick, however; the red-lipstick-wearing could wait until tonight.

Tonight …

Laura shuddered at the thought of tonight.

Then don’t think about it, Laura, she lectured herself. Thinking about it won’t help. It will only make you more nervous. The deed is done now and there’s no backing out.

Think of Gran if you have to think of anything. Think of making her happy. Think of all those good intentions you had when you first told her that Ryan Armstrong was your Mr Right.

Laura couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. Ryan was so spot on. It really was rather funny, his being cast as her Mr Right, because if anyone was the perfect Mr Wrong for her it was him.

But her gran wouldn’t know that, Laura conceded as she began to pack. She would only see what she wanted to see, a handsome, successful, charming, mature man.

What she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

Hopefully.

Laura groaned. Somehow she couldn’t get past the niggly feeling that this weekend wasn’t going to go exactly as planned—that before this day was out, it was going to be a colossal disaster!

CHAPTER EIGHT

RYAN glanced at the digital clock on the dash as he neared the street where Laura lived. Only a quarter to one; he was a little early. Not a good idea to be too early; he pulled over to the kerb to let a few minutes pass before proceeding.

Time ticked slowly by, during which his thoughts inevitably returned to what had happened when he’d rung Erica last night and told her his revised plans for this weekend.

Ryan shook his head at the memory of her reaction. Laura had been so right; maybe he didn’t know women as well as he thought he did. Because Erica had not been happy. Not only that, she’d been decidedly jealous!

Being on the end of jealousy was something which brought out the worst in Ryan. When Erica started accusing him of also having fancied Laura and that this was just a ploy to sleep with her, Ryan had told her in no uncertain terms that if that was what she thought then it was time they went their separate ways. After which he had hung up.

The fact that Erica subsequently sent him several grovel-ling—then abusive—text messages over the next hour had only confirmed his opinion that he’d done the right thing in breaking up with her. But the episode had bothered him all the same. He’d turned his phone off in the end, but he suspected that more messages would be there if and when he turned it back on again. Though what she had left to say he had no idea. He’d already been called every derogatory name in the dictionary from a filthy louse to a ‘something’ libertine.

He hadn’t been quite sure what a libertine was, so he’d looked it up and discovered that a libertine was a licentious and lascivious man who did as he pleased—which he thought was a bit harsh, though not entirely inaccurate. He did do as he pleased in the main. And it pleased him not to continue a relationship with a female who was hypocritical as well as foul-mouthed. It also pleased him to pretend to be Laura’s Mr Right this weekend and make an old lady’s last days happy.

The clock on the dash showed it was now twelve-fifty-three.

Time to arrive.

The house at the address Laura had given him came as a surprise. Not because it was grand, or large—it had possibly only three bedrooms. Federation cottages in good condition, however, were still worth a mint, especially when positioned high on a hill overlooking Manly Beach. He wondered if she owned it or was just renting.

It seemed an odd choice for a rental, he decided as he climbed out from behind the wheel and made his way through the front gate and up the flagged front path. The garden on either side was well tended, he noted, and the green paintwork around the front windows looked freshly done.

Not a rental, he concluded by the time he stepped up onto the ivy-covered front patio and rang the polished brass doorbell. Laura owned this lovely little house. He was sure of it.

Ryan was about to ring the bell again when the front door was swept open and Laura stood there, looking a darned sight better than she usually did. Gone was the funereal black suit; in its place were nicely fitted dark-blue jeans, black ankle-boots and a crisp white shirt with rolled-up sleeves and a turned-up collar. Her hair was swept back up into a ponytail and she’d put on some pink lipstick. All in all she looked five years younger than she had yesterday, and a good deal more fanciable.

Not that he fancied her. Not really; Erica was quite wrong about that. He would never have put himself in this position with a woman he seriously fancied. He was not that much of a fool.

‘You’re early,’ she said, almost accusingly.

Some things, Ryan realised, could not be changed as easily as appearances. She should have been grateful, not irritated. He always liked it when people were on time.

Except at three on a Friday afternoon …

Now why did he have to think of that?

Ryan shrugged in an effort to rid himself of the annoying thought that something was eluding him here. ‘Only five minutes. You’re looking good,’ he complimented her.

‘Thank you. So do you,’ she returned, if a little grudgingly.

‘We aim to please,’ he said with a smile.

She didn’t smile back, though something flickered in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what—more irritation, probably. Man, but he had his work cut out for him this weekend. It wasn’t going to be easy pretending to be in love with Miss Prickly.

‘I won’t be long,’ she said, whirling and walking quickly back down the hallway. ‘The bathroom’s in there,’ she said over her shoulder, indicating a door halfway up the hall on the right. ‘That’s if you want to go before we leave.’

‘I’m fine,’ he called back.

She was as quick as she said she would be, dragging a small black travel-case in one hand and carrying a plastic suit-cover in the other. Ryan stepped forward to take the bag, leaving her with the coat hanger.

‘I presume that’s a dress you’ve got in there,’ he said as they made their way out onto the front porch.

‘Yes,’ came her brusque reply. ‘Here. Hold it while I lock up.’

He was standing there, both hands full, when a cat suddenly curled around his right ankle, a sleek brown-coated feline who had ‘show cat’ written all over him. Until it peered up at Ryan.

‘Good God!’ he exclaimed in shock. ‘Is this your cat?’

‘What? Oh yes.’

‘He’s only got one eye!’

‘Hmm, yes,’ Laura agreed dryly. ‘I had noticed that, Ryan.’

‘What happened to him? Was he in a fight?’

‘No. He had a run-in with a car about a year ago. Didn’t you, sweetie?’ she said, her voice turning soft as she scooped the cat up into her arms. ‘Cost me a small fortune at the vet. Over three-thousand dollars.’

Ryan just stared at her. Over three-thousand dollars on a cat?

‘Yes, I know,’ she said, back to her droll tone. ‘Not what you might have expected from hard-hearted Laura.’

‘You’re certainly proving to be more sentimental than I imagined.’

‘Sorry to disappoint you.’

‘I’m not at all disappointed. You should never apologise for having a softer side, Laura. It’s what makes a woman a woman.’

‘It’s what makes fools of them,’ she retorted sharply. ‘Especially where men are concerned.’

‘I can’t see any man making a fool of you.’

‘As I said last night, Ryan, you don’t know women as well as you think you do. Which reminds me, what did your girlfriend say about your pretending to be my boyfriend for this weekend? Or didn’t you tell her?’

Ryan realised straight away that the truth would complicate things unnecessarily. Far better Laura not know how badly Erica had reacted, or that they were no longer a couple.

‘Of course I told her,’ he lied. ‘And she was fine with it.’

Laura shook her head. ‘Amazing.’ She bent down to drop the cat gently at her feet. ‘Be a good boy, Rambo, and don’t go on the road whilst I’m away.’

‘He’ll be fine being home alone?’ Ryan asked as they made their way out to the car.

‘It’s only for one night. He has plenty of food and water and his own cat slap. I’ve asked one of the neighbours to keep an eye on him as well.’

‘What breed is he?’ Ryan asked as he laid the suit-cover down on the back seat then placed the bag alongside his in the boot.

‘Abyssinian.’

‘Ah. I thought he was a pedigree cat. Have you had him long?’

She shot him one of her impatient looks. ‘What is this, twenty questions?’

Ryan decided to ignore her stroppiness. ‘I’m just collecting some basic facts about you. After all, a genuine boyfriend would know about your cat, wouldn’t he?’

Laura sighed. ‘I suppose so. In that case, his name is Rambo and he’s almost five. I bought him after I …’ She broke off abruptly, her mouth tightening.

‘After you what?’

‘After I broke up with Mario,’ she went on at last, her voice as bleak as her face.

‘I see,’ he said, wondering what exactly dear old Mario had done to turn Laura into such a man-hater. Had she caught him with another woman? Or was it the classic deceit of his having been a married man? His behaviour must have been pretty bad to devastate Laura the way it obviously had. Most women would have moved on by now. Five years ago, she’d said. Wow. Did that mean she’d gone without sex for the last five years? Ryan couldn’t imagine a life without regular sex. It was as necessary to him as eating and drinking. Still, he supposed women were different to men in that regard. At least, some obviously were.

‘Enough of the third degree for now,’ he went on, deciding to forget the awkward questions for a while. ‘So, what do you think of my car? Impressive enough for you?’

CHAPTER NINE

LAURA looked at the car and wished that she didn’t find being in Ryan’s company such a struggle. But from the moment she’d opened the door to him, she’d been thrown off-kilter.

She’d thought she was used to his good looks. After all, she’d seen him every Friday for two years and had never been rendered weak at the knees. But that was exactly how she’d felt a few minutes ago.

Perhaps it was the way he was dressed—all in black. Black jeans, black T-shirt and a black leather jacket. It was not the kind bikers wore but a softer, sleeker kind of jacket. It still gave him a distinctly macho edge. In it, he looked not just handsome but drop-dead gorgeous.

It had taken all of her composure not to stare. But she’d been rattled all the same, even more rattled when he had smiled and said how good she looked.

Thankfully, she hadn’t done anything humiliating like blush. Unfortunately, however, she’d become defensive and uptight and, yes, downright bitchy. Which was the last thing she wanted to be with him today. If she was going to convince Gran and the rest of the family that Ryan was her real boyfriend, she’d have to stop being her usual sarcastic self and start being nice. Seriously nice.

To compliment his car would be a good idea, but she refused to gush. Gushing was going way too far.

‘It’s very nice,’ she said. ‘I like the dark-blue colour.’

‘Get in,’ he said, coming round to open the passenger door for her.

She did so, sighing with undeniable pleasure as she sank into the soft, cream leather seats.

‘Comfy?’ he asked.

‘Very,’ she said, and glanced up at him.

Bad idea. He was smiling at her again. God, but he was just so gorgeous when he smiled like that!

‘You can’t beat leather, can you?’ he said, still smiling.

When her stomach actually fluttered, she gritted her teeth, put on her seat belt then turned her eyes straight ahead.

Unfortunately after he closed the door he strode round the front of the car, right past her line of vision.

Even the way he walked was sexy, she realised, his legs moving with long, jaunty strides and his broad shoulders rocking slightly from side to side. It was a confident walk. Confident and cocky.

Laura sighed with relief when he moved out of view. But her relief only lasted until he opened the driver’s door and slid in behind the wheel.

‘I think under the circumstances,’ he said as he gunned the engine, ‘That we should put the top down.’

Instant panic sent her eyes jerking in his direction. She wanted to tell him not to do that, but already the roof was retracting and, really, what could she say? It wasn’t as though it was a cold day. There was absolutely no wind and there wasn’t a cloud in the clear, blue sky. There was no logical reason why she should be alarmed. But she was.

‘You’ll enjoy it,’ he added, his eyes meeting hers. ‘Trust me.’

Laura gave him a tight little smile. It wasn’t him she didn’t trust, she realised with a jab of dismay. It was herself.

Where had this sudden mad attraction come from?

Admittedly, Ryan was a very attractive man in a physical sense; as cynical as she was about the male sex, Laura wasn’t blind. Okay, so he wasn’t her usual type. Unlike her gran, she’d always gone for elegantly built males of average height who didn’t tower over her. Big, broad-shouldered, macho men had always made her feel uncomfortable.

Ryan was certainly making her feel uncomfortable right at this moment, but in a disturbingly delicious and insidiously corrupting way. It was as well that he didn’t fancy her, Laura realised. A blessing, too, that he had a girlfriend, otherwise she just might have been tempted to make a fool of herself this weekend.

Her stomach churned at the development of this highly unexpected situation. There she’d been, thinking she’d have trouble pretending to be Ryan’s girlfriend. Now she was faced with having to control the urge to seduce the man!

Not that she would know how to seduce a man. She’d only had two lovers in her life, both of whom had done the seducing. She had absolutely no confidence in bedroom matters, and not a lot of interest these days, either.

Until this moment …

Perhaps her years of celibacy had finally caught up with her. It was the only reason Laura could find for the way she was feeling, so horribly aware of the man sitting next to her. Her sudden vulnerability to him brought a peculiar tension to her body which she could not remember experiencing before. Her shoulders stiffened, then pressed back hard against the seat, her hands twisting together in her lap.

‘Relax, Laura,’ he commanded as the car accelerated away from the kerb and hurtled off down the street. ‘Everything’s going to be fine.’

She wasn’t so sure about that. Even if she got through this weekend with her pride intact she’d have to give Ryan up as a client. She could not bear the thought of going to his office every Friday afternoon with the same kind of feelings running through her that were running through her now.

It wasn’t long, however, before she forgot about her pride and succumbed to the exhilarating and highly seductive experience of riding along in a convertible. Lord, but it was fun, whizzing through the city streets with the sun beating down on her face and the wind in her hair. It was impossible to remain uptight. Soon she relaxed back into the seat, thoroughly enjoying the envious looks on people’s faces as they passed them by. Perhaps it was silly of her to feel pleasure at the misconception that Ryan was her boyfriend, but she couldn’t seem to help it.

‘See?’ Ryan said after a few minutes. ‘I told you you’d enjoy it. Want me to put some music on?’

‘If you like,’ she replied, having to work very hard to keep her voice cool and in no way flirtatious.

‘Tell me what you like,’ he countered. ‘Music wise. I should know your taste in music, don’t you think? And vice versa.’

Laura shrugged. ‘I like just about anything which has a melody, a good beat and interesting words. I’m not into hard metal, or rap. I don’t have a favourite artist or a band. I never was the sort of teenager who went ape over some singer. Unlike Alison who was—and is—simply crazy about Robbie Williams.’

‘Who’s Alison?’

‘My best friend. We went to boarding-school together.’

‘Ah. Perhaps we should leave the music off for now whilst you give me a quick update on your life so far. You don’t have to tell me everything. Just the things you think I should know.’

‘I’m certainly not going to tell you everything,’ she retorted, thinking of Brad and Mario.

And she certainly didn’t mention those two humiliating relationships. But she did tell Ryan about her mother running away from home to Sydney and eventually marrying her father, who’d been a runaway of another kind. Carmelo Ferrugia had been a lawyer, a refugee from Columbia whose first wife and children had been murdered by some very bad people. Carmelo had been twenty years older than her mother, a kind, compassionate man who’d spent the rest of his life helping people in difficulty.

She also told him about their tragic death in a small-plane crash when she’d been only eleven, about her years living up in the Hunter Valley with her grandparents and her time at a Sydney boarding-school.

‘I always knew that I would stay in Sydney as soon as I finished school,’ she added. ‘And that I would become a lawyer, like my dad. I actually worked for legal aid for a while, like he did. But I didn’t like it all that much. I found it a bit … boring.’

‘So you moved on to Harvey, Michaels and Associates.’

‘No, I joined another legal firm first, one which specialised in criminal defence.’

‘You couldn’t have found that boring.’

‘No, I loved it. But I … um …’

‘You what?’

Too late Laura realised where this conversation was heading.

She winced. She hated talking about Mario. Brad had hurt her, but Mario had cut very deep.

‘I had a relationship with a client that ended badly,’ she finally admitted.

‘I see.’

‘I doubt it.’

‘No, I do see. I had a relationship with a client once. That ended badly too. It almost destroyed my business.’

Laura was shocked. ‘What happened?’

‘In a nutshell I had a brief fling with a client. When I broke up with her she did her very libellous best to bring my company—and me—to our knees. It was a close call, I can tell you. Makes you damned careful in future. I’ve never dated a client since. I dare say you feel the same way.’

‘You could say that.’

‘Just as well this isn’t a real date, then. Still, I don’t think I have to worry about your ever getting obsessed with me, Laura.’

Oh, the irony of that remark, she thought as she turned droll eyes his way. ‘I think you’re reasonably safe.’ Provided you don’t do anything stupid like make a pass at me.

His laugh carried real amusement. ‘You know, it’s quite refreshing being in the company of a woman whom you can entirely trust.’

‘Meaning?’ she said a bit more tartly that she meant to.

‘Meaning I would never have offered to pretend to be your boyfriend if I thought you liked me at all. Because let’s face it, Laura, if that was the case this weekend could have complicated our working relationship.’

‘I don’t see how. Even if I liked you, you don’t like me.’

‘Not true, sweetheart. How could I possibly continue to dislike a woman who spent three-thousand dollars saving the life of her poor little puddy-tat?’

‘Oh,’ she said, and then did the unthinkable.

She blushed.

CHAPTER TEN

RYAN could not believe it when Laura’s cheeks flushed a bright red. For a second or two, he was troubled by her reaction. But then he saw it for what it was: a natural response to the unexpected occurence of a man saying something genuinely nice about her.

Ryan suspected that Laura had been short of male compliments over the past few years, particularly with the way she dressed and acted. Clearly, she’d shut down after that disastrous affair she’d had with her client. He would have liked to know a few more details about that affair but knew better than to ask right now.