No Rescue (3 page)

It helped that she moved naturally into his personal space, and looped her arm around his waist.

The giraffes were friendly and calm, their keeper talking easily about them. Tad took a photo of Miri with his phone as she fed them, showing it to her and enjoying how she leant into him to look at it.

‘Brilliant. Look at his eyelashes. Giraffes are beautiful.'

For beauty, he preferred to look at her with her jacket off and her green shirt open at the collar, lipstick worn off so that her mouth was naked as it curved in a smile.

She glanced up at him, saw something in his expression and her own gaze dropped to his mouth. Her breath came faster.

‘Peng-wins!'

She jumped, and laughed.

The same terrible toddler of the morning hadn't lost his fascination with penguins. His mother appeared defeated. Without a word she turned the pram away from the giraffes and headed back to the birds' enclosure.

‘The boy will be a marine biologist,' Miri said.

‘That or a drill sergeant.' The kid was loud and he'd spoiled the moment. But there'd be other moments.

They caught the ferry back to Balmain just ahead of the rush of schoolkids and commuters. It meant that there were still hours of the afternoon and the whole evening ahead of them.

Tad stood beside Miri at the ferry railing, his back to the view and his attention on her. ‘Phone number?' He entered hers into his phone and watched her save his. He could ask her out for dinner. He wanted to. ‘You look tired.' He pushed hair blown by the wind away from her eyes. It was an excuse to touch her.

‘I am. But it's a happy tired. Thank you.'

He'd ask her out to dinner, tomorrow. For now he shifted so that they stood with her back to his front, his arms around her, the slight movement of the water rocking them together. The Sydney Harbour Bridge loomed up and passed over them.

She put her hand over his and leaned back.

It was a good way to travel home.

***

Despite the warmth of the late afternoon sun, Miri missed Tad's heat as he released her and they walked off the ferry. ‘I owe that pelican.'

He caught on, not needing an explanation that she was referring to the morning's pelican that had made her laugh and revealed her presence. ‘I'd have asked you sooner or later. He just gave me the excuse.'

They were holding hands, something that felt incredibly right, and now she pulled him to a stop. ‘You knew I was there on the balcony?'

‘Babe.' Half-joke, fully serious. ‘I'm a trained policeman. I notice beautiful women.'

‘Smooth.'

They stopped at the entrance to her borrowed apartment. After the ease between them, she was suddenly uncertain.

‘I'll call you,' he said as they faced each other. In the shaded entry, they'd both taken off their sunglasses. His eyes were the clear grey-blue of the sea, intent and honest. A woman could rely on his strength.

‘Okay,' she said absently. Her focus was more immediate than a future phone call. Would he kiss her? She was humming with curiosity and anticipation. Would the kiss live up to the awareness that had zipped between them all day? Could any kiss? If he didn't make a move, she'd initiate things. No way was he walking away without this important point settled.

He touched his mouth to hers. The lightest pressure. She breathed in the scent of him as they played the game of ‘let's pretend we're in total control'. Only their mouths touched, teased, and they woke a deeper need, one that tingled through her. She slipped her tongue past his lips to flick the tip of his.

He sucked her in, even as he changed the rules. His hand cupped the back of her head, fingers threading through her hair, massaging. The kiss went wild. He walked her backward till there was only the solidity of the wall behind her and the potent hardness of his body in front.

She kind of forgot that although the apartment block's entry was shaded, it was still visible from the road.

‘They can't see.' Tad's voice was raw and husky, responding to the inarticulate noise she made at the feel of his hand on her breast. He'd mistaken her murmur for a protest. ‘My body's between you and the street. I just had to feel…'

Her nipple jutted against her bra, the soft cotton not hiding her arousal, even through her shirt.

He slipped his hand inside her shirt. Inside her bra. They both sighed at the contact. Then he frowned.

She couldn't understand his frown. It felt good, so good. His rough, calloused hand gentle against her skin.

He scissored his fingers, squeezing her nipple. ‘Either we stop, or we take this inside.'

Her choice.

With his hand inside her shirt, intimately possessive, she craved more. All of him. Twenty-six years of good behaviour fought flash-fire desire. She had never jumped into the flames before. She'd always known her lovers. ‘I…'

The stern line of his mouth relaxed a fraction. ‘Not on a first date?'

She nodded, defeated by her own confusion. If only she could trust this instantaneous passion, but for the last seven weeks nothing had been normal. She couldn't add another regret. ‘I wish I could.' She really did as his hand left her breast and rebuttoned her shirt. The thoughtful gesture, the caring, had its own power.

‘Dinner, tomorrow.'

‘Not tonight?' Her question escaped, flaunting her desperation.

‘Don't tempt me. Take the time. Think about what you want.'

She shivered at the low growl of his voice. She shivered more as he continued.

‘I know I want you.'

Miri had her instructions. Not from Tad, but from her sister, Anna. The photo of Tad had impressed Anna. The story of the zoo date had thrilled her. News that Miri was going out for dinner with a handsome police sergeant had galvanised her. ‘You have to get back here and pick up your Audrey Hepburn dress.' The two sisters shared a townhouse in Bankstown. Miri's photographic studio was around the corner, Anna's hair salon two streets over.

Just as soon as Miri had had her morning cup of tea and her fix of watching Tad run past, she'd head home. Work waited her in the studio. She'd pick up her little black dress and her highest heels while she was there. She was looking forward to dressing up for Tad and seeing his reaction. Yesterday he'd seen her as an emotional wreck. Today she wanted to wow him.

The balcony was cool, still clothed in shadows this early in the day. The rising sun cast a golden light across the harbour. The pelican stood on the shore again, beside a metal bench. It turned its head, and Miri looked, too.

Tad ran into view.

Her heartbeat picked up.

He was energy and life, outlined against the waking harbour and city backdrop. He looked for her immediately, and smiled, running up to stand beneath the balcony. ‘Morning.'

‘Good morning.'

They stared at one another.

Had he dreamed of her last night, as she'd dreamed of him?

‘I don't think I can wait for dinner,' he said. ‘Meet me for lunch.'

‘Yes.' She thought of all she had to do at the studio and added in driving time. ‘One o'clock?' She could do the computer work here on her laptop.

‘One o'clock. Here.'

They stared some more, then he shook his head at some private thought and ran off, past the sleepy pelican. Released from the spell of wanting to jump his sweaty, muscled body, she gulped the rest of her tea and headed out, hoping to beat the worst of the traffic. She made a mental note to pick up her sexiest lingerie while she was home.

***

Miri brought her favourite camera back with her, but left it in the apartment as she walked down to meet Tad at the pelican bench. She had egg and bacon mini-pies from her parents' bakery, along with two of the giant cream and jam doughnuts the bakery was famous for. Her mum had insisted on adding those. Apparently, Anna had been talking.

The bag of doughnuts almost met an ignominious end, dropped onto the ground, when Miri saw Tad approaching.

He was in uniform: dark blue shirt and trousers, black boots, hat off. He looked all male, and capable of arresting a zillion bank robbers by himself. His kiss was short, forceful and possessive. Staking a claim.

Her knees melted and when he released her, she sat down abruptly. The paper bags rustled. She held them up, an inadequate offering to a sex god. ‘I brought lunch.'

‘Great. I've only got half an hour. I thought I'd have longer.' He sat beside her, thighs and shoulders touching.

She felt crowded in the best kind of way. ‘Egg and bacon pie. Eat. They're from my parents' bakery.'

He looked at her, pie frozen halfway to his mouth.

She'd seen the exact same look in every boyfriend's eyes since she was fourteen. Bakery. Nirvana. ‘Mum packed you a jam and cream doughnut, too. The other one's mine.'

‘Do I already have maternal approval?' He was teasing, but there was intent behind the question.

‘My sister has a big mouth,' she explained, noting that he hadn't freaked at the news her parents knew about him.

Then again, Sergeant Thaddeus Robertson didn't freak.

She'd never dated a guy in uniform, but every time she glanced sideways at him, she saw the appeal.

A couple of seagulls flew in and strutted around the bench, indicating that a few crumbs would be appreciated.

‘No chance,' Tad told them. He finished his first mini-pie and accepted a second. ‘These are excellent.'

They watched a ferry travelling to Circular Quay. The harbour scene was a busy one. Controlled chaos. Looking sideways, Miri considered the fact that Tad was part of the authority that controlled it.

‘I've booked a table at Sinbad's Inn. Turkish seafood. It looks like a stage setting for the
Arabian Nights
, but the food is good. It looks over the bay.'

‘Dressy?' She thought of the little black dress and its 1960s-style elegance.

‘Yeah.' He smiled at her. ‘I'd like to see you all glammed up.'

She smiled back. ‘I can do that.'

He stretched out his legs, one boot crossed on top of the other, obviously pleased with life.

So was she, if somewhat more cautiously. It felt great to actually be looking forward to something. The sun shone brighter and she basked in it; her nerves, that had been hyper-vigilant for weeks, relaxed. Tad was a reassuring as well as sexy presence.

‘I have to go.'

He caught her with a mouth full of doughnut.

She chewed frantically. Oh, so glamorous.

Amusement indented the not-quite dimples in his tanned face. ‘Don't choke.'

She swallowed. ‘I'll walk back with you.'

There was a fleeting pause. Just the slightest hesitation. ‘Stay and finish your doughnut.'

It was sensible, even thoughtful. It chilled her. ‘Good idea.' Her smile was fake; her appetite gone.

He stooped and kissed her lightly. ‘Sweeter than strawberry jam. I'll see you tonight. Seven okay with you?'

He didn't want the people at his work to see her.

‘Seven's fine.'

Watching him walk away — confident and self-disciplined, breathtaking in his uniform — she found herself squeezing the cream filling from the doughnut. ‘Ick.' She wiped the mess on a paper bag.

She was being absurdly over-sensitive, imagining he wanted to hide her away like a shameful secret. Could she even be looking for ways to sabotage her own happiness? After all, why would he care if other officers saw her?

***

The strength of his instinctive refusal to introduce Miri to his workmates rattled Tod. He'd never judged himself a jealous man. But all of his reactions to her were exaggerated. She had the power to pull emotion from him, right from that first moment when he'd seen her alone on the balcony and couldn't forget her.

If they'd had sex last night, would he have been more sure of her, more in control of his own feelings and willing to introduce her to the guys?

Or would a more intimate connection just ramp up his jealousy?

He shrugged, trying to shake off his mood. He preferred being out on the water, doing things, but today had been a day of personnel issues and paperwork, and the afternoon promised more of the same. Sometimes the job just wouldn't cooperate. He needed action to stop him thinking.

***

Miri leaned into the mirror, checking that the smoky eye-shadow effect worked and that her make-up was flawless. Her mouth shimmered pink, a match to the rose-pink and gold-threaded black bolero knit she'd wear over the black dress. The neckline hinted at the fullness of her breasts without her having to worry she'd flash Tad if she leaned forward at dinner. She stepped back to view the whole effect of the black dress that finished significantly above the knee and the high, high heels that she hoped made her legs appear endless.

Good. She looked really good, and the gold and rose quartz crystal earrings were the final touch.

She shrugged on the bolero, checked the mirror again, drew a deep breath and walked out onto the balcony to try and calm down. Sydney Harbour looked magical. She felt its sparkle and hope. But there was also a dose of anxiety adding to the fast pulse of her blood. Her sister's text, ‘just have fun', didn't help. Miri couldn't stop her mind racing on, those absurd self-doubting thoughts that had haunted her last few weeks still whirling.

If she'd met Tad at a different time, she'd have known whether to trust her instant attraction. He was smart, funny, good-humoured, hot — what wasn't to like? But she couldn't relax and enjoy the ride. She kept expecting everything to go wrong.

Post-traumatic stress. She'd been offered counselling and had gone to a couple of sessions. The counsellor had spoken of survivor guilt. Her gran had provided more helpful advice. ‘You're mourning the boy, and facing your own mortality. We all learn painfully, slowly, that there are limits to what we can do, who we can save. Your lesson was harder than most,
ma cherie
.'