Breach of Faith (6 page)

She shook her head and smiled while I glared at Frank, who took one look at my stormy face and scampered away. An obvious attempt at avoidance. I crossed my arms over my chest, hoping I didn’t look quite as deserted as I stupidly felt.

Frank was pumping the other man’s hand. “Stuart! Mate, good to see you again.” He glanced at me and his eyes glazed over, focussing on the wall behind me. He was embarrassed. He was playing along with this farce on purpose.

What the …?

“Kate?” Frank was staring intently at a pot plant and I resisted the urge to turn and look at it too. His cheeks were flushed, his expression strained and uncomfortable. Hesitantly he held out his hand, “I’d like you to meet one of my oldest and dearest friends. This is Stuart Murphy; baker extraordinaire.”

I shuffled forward, confused and irritated by Frank’s obvious deception. Is this why he’d invited me? So he could pretend to have a girlfriend?

Ignoring Frank’s outstretched hand, I smiled tenderly at the middle-aged man. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Stuart looked shocked, “I didn’t know they made bakers quite so pretty these days.”

I heard a chuckle from behind. “Oh no, love.” Paula popped up beside me, scrutinising me with sharp eyes. “Kate is Frank’s
special
friend.”

Now it was Stuart’s turn to examine me like I was a rare specimen in a museum.

“Um … well, I’m not … I mean –”

“Maybe we should all go inside,” Frank interrupted. I’m sure there was desperation in his voice. “It’ll be starting soon.”

Paula dragged her eyes away from my womb and followed Stuart through the door of the conference room. “Coming?”

I smiled sweetly and grabbed Frank’s hand, squeezing his fingers hard. “We won’t be a moment. I just need to speak to Frank.”

Frank squawked, breathlessly, “save us a seat, Paula?”

As soon as we were alone, I rounded on Frank. “What the hell was that about?”

Frank glanced at the open door then dragged me a little way up the corridor. “I’m sorry. I didn’t expect that to happen.”

“Great,” I was still seething, “apology accepted. Now go and tell them the truth.”

“Kate –”

“If you don’t, I will.”

Frank hesitated, “I know it’s a lot to ask but –”

I stared open mouthed at him. “You want to keep lying to them? Why?”

“It’s about to start. Can I tell you later?”

“No.” I stared belligerently at the subject of my recent fantasies and felt a surge of excitement shoot through my body. Shocked, I tore my gaze away from his deep blue eyes and collapsed onto a nearby chair. Bloody hell, now I was getting aroused at the thought of pretending to be Frank’s girlfriend. How old am I? Fourteen?

Defeated, Frank sat down beside me and sighed. “A few years ago I was married. I was young, ambitious and totally head-over-heels in love. Anyway, to cut a long story short, Cassie got sick. She was pregnant at the time and lost the baby.”

“Oh Frank, I’m so sorry.”

Waving my sympathies away, Frank continued. “After that she couldn’t cope. She was depressed, suicidal and in the end, hospitalised. In one of her more rational moments she demanded a divorce and told me she never wanted to see me again. That was two years ago, and I lost it, for a while –”

“I can imagine,” I interjected.

Frank smiled faintly. “Stu and Paula pulled me through using hard work and bloody-mindedness. I moved away, set up the bakery in Rowley and … well, here we are.”

Instinctively, I reached out and clasped Frank’s hand, squeezing his fingers lightly. “I really am sorry, Frank, but what does it have to do with me?”

Frank shifted awkwardly in his seat. “Stu and Paula are great, I couldn’t have got through it without them, but Paula does have a tendency to be a bit pushy –”

“I hadn’t noticed,” I muttered sarcastically.

“—and she keeps trying to set me up.”

“Ah.”

Frank grunted, “she thinks I need love. Look, I didn’t expect this to happen but when I saw Paula and she started on about you … If it’ll stop her setting me up with every female in that room, I’ll do anything.”

I thought quickly. “All right, I’ll help you. But there are conditions. Firstly, if there’s anyone in there I know, then it’ll have to stop.

“Secondly, keep your hands to yourself,” My voice was serious but the smile gave away my returning humour. I was quite looking forward to this.

Frank stood up and helped my to my feet. “Of course,” he agreed demurely then patted me on the bum, making me gasp. “As long as you can do the same.”

He flung his arm across my shoulders. “I think this’ll be fun after all.”

25 September

“Anyway, when we got back, there was Frank up to his eyeballs in flour.” Paula grinned and I giggled helplessly. I had to admit, "half-naked, floured Frank" would have been hilarious.

Hot? Sexy?

“What happened next?” I glanced at Frank, seated beside me at the table and nudged him playfully in the ribs. Frank buried his red face in his coffee.

“Bloody baby photos’ll come out next,” he muttered.

“What was that, my love?” I gazed at him, smiling innocently.

Ignoring this byplay, Paula continued her fascinating delve into Frank’s past. “Well, that was when the chocolate sauce he spilt came back to bite him on the arse.”

“Ladies and gentlemen. If I could have your attention.” The announcement cut through my laughter. “Unfortunately, due to factors beyond our control, the outdoor barbeque demonstration has been cancelled.”

I grimaced at the window where bucket loads of water were drowning the glass and lightning flickered in a prematurely darkened sky. Noah might be needing that Ark pretty soon.

“Damn!” Frank murmured in my ear and I almost jumped out of my chair. “I was really looking forward to my gourmet sausage.” He rested his arm across the back of my chair and I narrowed my eyes at him as his fingers caressed my shoulder.

Remember our deal
, my look said.

Can’t blame a bloke for trying
, he shrugged, a small smile lighting up his face. His arm didn’t budge.

“However,” the announcer continued and the mutterings around the room died down. “We have replaced the washed-out demonstration with a hands-on explanation of the use of milk in baking. This will include –”

“Surely they’re kidding.” Frank was so close I could feel his breath tickling my neck as his lips brushed my ear, forcing a small shiver to run the length of my spine. His fingers massaged my shoulder and I held my breath. If I turned back to face him, only a couple of centimetres of air would separate us; just millimetres between Frank’s lips and mine.

Danger!

“Kidding?” I croaked. His whispering voice filled me, I couldn’t think straight. His fingers were caressing my neck, light as a butterfly, hot as a setting sun. I couldn’t have pulled away, even if I’d tried.

Which I didn’t. I couldn’t.

“The bloody milk thing, they do it every year.”

His fingers crept up the back of my skull seducing my hair, and my head tilted towards him as I closed my eyes, powerless to stop the urges that accompanied his feather-light touches.

Stop him!

I can’t. I can’t stop him.

You have to stop him. Before it goes too far. Open your eyes. NOW.

“I can’t,” I whispered.

His hand stilled then abruptly disappeared, leaving me feeling empty and alone. Opening my eyes, I turned to face him, Frank’s blue eyes pierced straight into my heart.

“I know
you
can’t,” he gently stroked my cheek, “but I sure as hell want to.”

“Look at the love-birds!”

I jumped violently, shocked back to reality.

Did he really say that?

I pulled abruptly out of Frank’s embrace, to be confronted by Paula’s deep green, laughing eyes. Heat filled my cheeks and I threw out my hand in a desperate attempt to grab my coffee. Caffeine, that’s what I needed to sort myself out. Caffeine, and lots of it.

Frank’s groping hand was sliding across the table too, obviously with the same idea. Stuart was sipping his own coffee, a small smile visible behind the Styrofoam cup.

Fumbling desperately along the table, I finally encountered my cup and grabbed it gratefully, heaving a deep sigh of relief. Too late, I realised my hasty mistake as Frank’s strong fingers wrapped themselves around my own. Looking wildly in his direction, I uttered a little shriek, flinched violently and spilt the cup of coffee all over him.

*

The windscreen wipers swished, complementing the splashing of the tyres on the road. I glanced at Frank but his strong, handsome face gave nothing away as he stared out the windscreen, the coffee stain accusing me from his new white shirt.

“I really am sorry.” The apology sounded lame and I looked away before trying again. “I honestly don’t know what happened. I was … well, you know.”

Frank was silent. “No,” he said finally, “I don’t know. Why don’t you tell me.”

I took a deep breath, “I realise you didn’t mean anything by it. I just panicked.” I was talking fast, wanting to get it over and done with. The silence had been grating on my nerves. “And then … your shirt.”

“I don’t care about the shirt. I’m not angry with you, Kate, I just want to know what’s going on.”

I stared out the window. What the hell
was
going on? Buggered if I knew.

He coughed, “your reaction –”

“Reaction? To what?”

“Me.” Frank pulled off the highway, the slip road lit up like a Christmas tree, and trundled to a stop.

“I think we need to talk.”

*

The salad sandwich looked surprisingly good, the coffee mediocre at best but the choice was easy as my hand went instinctively to the white mug. So far I had managed to avoid looking at Frank, his own plate of sandwiches also untouched.

The roadhouse diner was busy as the weather closed in again, and I shivered. Maybe stopping here had been a blessing in disguise, the roads would be treacherous right about now.

“What are you thinking about?”

I kept my eyes on the window, it seemed easier, and sipped my rapidly cooling coffee. “The rain,” I replied, “I was thinking it was a good idea to stop. And alcohol. I wish I had a stiff drink.”

Frank snorted then went silent. Finally he sighed. “I was thinking about
you
. You’re a very beautiful woman, Kate Robson. Very beautiful and just a little bit … strange.”

I frowned. “Strange?”

“Elusive, mysterious.”

Mysterious?

He reached out and gently turned my head to face him. “Why, Kate? Why did you react like that? When I touched you, when I….” He leaned towards me, full of passion. “You wanted me too.”

His gaze was unblinking and I desperately tried to concentrate on a blow-fly washing its legs on his shoulder.

I failed.

“I don’t know,” I was shaking.

Frank’s fingers entwined themselves in mine. He studied my face then smiled, squeezed my fingers and released my hand, severing more than just the physical link between us.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said, a little too brightly. “Let’s forget it ever happened. It was just a game, right? A bit of fun.”

A vague feeling of disappointment flitted through me, but I ignored it. Not important, not now. Easier this way.

Frank grinned, “the storm seems to have passed. Let’s take the chance and go home.”

“Which way you going, mate?” We looked up into the weathered face of the roadhouse owner, a polite smile creasing his features.

Frank was frowning, “towards Rowley.”

“You won’t get there, mate. Coast road’s flooded. Happens every time.”

Frank’s frown deepened.

I thought for a moment, “well, we can take the inland road.” I looked at Frank and his frown fell away.

The owner shook his head, “no go, buddy.”

Frank’s face fell again, “why on earth not?”

“Fallen tree. Just before the
Rowley Road. Storm knocked it right out of the ground. You’ve got just the two choices, mate.”

Frank groaned, “go on.”

The man grinned, “snuggle in your rust-bucket,” he gestured at Frank’s car, “or – “ He gestured vaguely behind himself, “got a motel out there.” He glanced out of the window where the weather had suddenly taken a turn for the worse. “Your choice, buddy.”

Frank pulled a face and looked at me. I shuddered, “I’m not sleeping in your car, not for all the money in the world.”

Hands in the air, Frank surrendered. “How much for two rooms?”

The roadhouse owner looked apologetic. “Sorry, mate, only got the one left.”

I looked at Frank in horror.

He shrugged. “We don’t have a choice. Unless you fancy the back seat of my car after all.”