Finding Trust (Centre Games) (5 page)

The crowd was beginning to thin but was no less boisterous than they had been a couple of hours ago. Bray continued on, purposeful in his quest to make it to his car without causing too much attention. He didn’t want to have to handle fans or to go another round with the guys from before. He was finding it harder and harder to keep his senses tuned for danger and threat with Minky snugly in his arms. He wondered whether she realised that she had smooched her cheek in a little closer to the hard plane of his shoulder or that her fingers were lazily tracing little circles at the base of his neck. He didn’t think so. From what he’d learnt, he would have guessed that her actions would embarrass her if he brought them to her attention. So he moved on in silence, his jeans becoming increasingly uncomfortable with every passing second.

His highly attuned ears heard a few, “Isn’t that the guy from Steel?” as he continued on. He purposely kept his eyes down and didn’t slow. He wanted to be out of Surfers now.

Finally, he turned and headed into a parking garage. The bright lights of the garage momentarily hurt her eyes that had become accustomed to the darkened street. He stopped beside a midnight blue Land Cruiser four-wheel drive and gently lowered Rihanna to her feet. Bray stepped slightly away and shoved his right hand into his front pocket, looking for his keys.

Was it her imagination or did his jeans seem a little snugger? The thought of that sent a new array of electricity zooming through her already over-sensitised system. Was he feeling it too?

Removing the key ring, he pressed the button on the remote; the lights flashed and the door locks disengaged. He opened the passenger side door and lifted her easily into the front seat. The dark leather was cool and smooth on the back of her legs. Her short dress offered little barrier against the sudden sensation of the cold leather. It was not unpleasant after her heated thoughts. It zapped her back to the reality of what was happening.

Brayden had closed her door and was already around the big vehicle and in the driver’s side. He had the engine started and was reversing out when he noticed the unease on her face. This had to be tough on her. He couldn’t think of a woman he knew right now that wouldn’t be a howling mess. Here Rihanna sat, obviously upset about what had happened earlier and clearly cautious about what was happening between them, but somehow managing to keep it together. He had to admire that. She was a fighter and they may just be able to pull this off together.

He reached over and took her hand. “It’s okay. You’re safe now and nothing is going to happen that you don’t want to.” With that, she gave him a weak smile and gently squeezed his hand. He smoothly guided the big vehicle through the tight lanes of the parking garage with one hand. He stopped at the pay station and,
seemingly reluctantly, let go of her hand while he retrieved his wallet and the parking ticket.

After paying the attendant, he slightly turned to her and said, “I don’t want to alarm you but I am going to engage the locks on the doors. We’ll have to go through a number of traffic lights to get out of Surfers and I don’t want drunks trying to get in.” He gave her one of those killer smiles and took her hand again as he pressed the switch to engage the locks on the console of his door with the other hand.

Rihanna found herself briefly nodding acceptance of his explanation. She realised then that she trusted him for some reason. When she thought about it, he hadn’t given her any reason to not trust him. He had been her rock through this whole very strange and terrifying evening. He swung the vehicle out onto the road and headed in a southerly direction, which would take them back down past where the crowd had gathered to listen to the band.

“How about we head to my place?” he asked. Hesitation flashed across her face but she pushed it down and continued to chew her bottom lip in her “thinking it over” expression. “You can take a soak in the spa and then sleep late. That should help you settle a little after what’s happened tonight.”

She thought the option through. She didn’t really want to go home. She would be all alone. Her father had gone away for a while just yesterday. The big country farmhouse she loved so much didn’t seem all that attractive without someone else there. Rihanna had to admit she did feel safe in Bray’s company.

“Okay. That sounds good,” she managed.

Bray wasn’t immune to the uncertainty with which Rihanna had made the decision to go with him. “Don’t worry, sweetheart; it will be fine. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

At least he could keep her safe at his place. He didn’t figure she needed the shock of finding her house in a ruin, which he guessed would be highly likely if they returned now. His bet was the guys who had grabbed her would well and truly have trashed her place looking for what they thought she had. Bray needed time to gain a little more trust and information before he would venture back to her place.

The big vehicle eased to a stop at a set of lights just south of Cavil Avenue. Brayden had hold of her hand and was lightly rubbing the back of it with his thumb. It felt good. She was beginning to relax back into the luxurious feel of the leather and the clean smell of the SUV. Her eyelids were feeling particularly heavy. Rihanna was jolted from the peace and tranquillity of the vehicle when, as Bray had previously predicted, a group of young men went crashing into her side of the car. Their hands were groping at the tinted windows of the car. Her heart rate immediately hit turbo and she let out a cry of alarm. Fortunately, the lights chose that moment to turn green and Bray was able to quickly accelerate away.

“Steady, sweetheart. It’s okay. They can’t get in. You’re safe.” He continued to soothe her with his voice, and the steady stroking of his hand on hers was helping return her pulse back down out of the red-lined danger zone.

“How did you know?” she stammered. Had the guys come back? Were they after her again?

“Honey, I’ve made enough late-night escapes from Surfers to know that things can get a little messy late in the night.” He knew what she was thinking. The guys from earlier had returned to finish the job. “I don’t think it was anything to do with earlier tonight.”

The traffic was light as they headed down the Gold Coast Highway, the bright neon lights spelling out the vibe and atmosphere that was uniquely Gold Coast. Nowhere else could ostentatious and downright gaudy mix to create a kind of friendly charm and pizzazz that typified the Gold Coast.

They continued on down the Gold Coast Highway through Broadbeach, Miami, Burleigh, and then Palm Beach. At the intersection just before Currumbin Creek, Bray pulled into the right lane and headed across parallel to the creek, which was really more like an inlet to the Pacific Ocean.

Rihanna thought to ask, “Where do you live?”

She also noticed that somehow her hand had made it over onto his thigh, his large hand still locked over the top of hers. She could feel the heat from his hard thigh radiating up to warm the palm of her hand. A lovely stream of electricity ran up her arm.

“I live towards the end of Currumbin Valley. I have a few acres up there. It’s close enough to everything but still allows me to live in peace.” He purposely let her think that life as a “rock star” required careful planning away from prying eyes. The reality was very different. He was rarely linked to the band at all. His real job was very different from the persona that he had adopted for the evening. His real job required him to be as discreet and anonymous as possible.

“Oh, that sounds nice. Is it much farther?” The road was becoming a little rougher and windier as they moved through the valley.

“Round the next bend, just up ahead.” Bray pulled off to the left and stopped at a set of large but discreet gates that almost appeared part of the scrub and the bank that adjoined the road. He reluctantly released her hand, trailing his fingertips over the coolness of her forearm as he opened the console between them and removed some sort of electronic key. He retracted the window, inserted the key into a panel and punched in a code. The gates soundlessly opened.

Without waiting for them to fully open, Bray slipped the car through with an inch or so to spare on each side. He then paused briefly while he watched the gates return to their closed position. The driveway took a sharp dip and crossed over a causeway before snaking across the flat and up the hill towards the subtly illuminated house. Small, elegant lights in the trimmed shrubs marked the direction of the turns.

He pressed another button on a remote attached to the right of the steering column and the oversized garage door that had come into view as they rounded the corner retracted to reveal three car spaces. At first glance in the range of the headlights, there was an assortment of sporting goods and “boy’s toys” in the middle bay, including a gleaming black and lime green Jet Ski. It wasn’t difficult to imagine Brayden out carving through the Pacific Ocean with the power of that machine under him. The far left bay held what looked like a low-slung black sports car.

Bray drove into the empty bay and bought the 4WD to a halt and turned off the ignition. He must have realised how tense Rihanna was because he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. “Come on. I’ll make you a coffee. You could probably use one after the night you’ve had.”

Taking a deep steadying breath, Rihanna opened the passenger door and joined Bray at the front of the vehicle. He motioned her forward towards a door that obviously led into the house. The door handle was cool to her hot skin as she turned it. She could feel the comforting yet unmistakably dangerous presence of Bray’s hand at the small of her back as she stepped forward on to the highly polished timber of the house’s interior.

“Just head straight down the corridor. Lounge room is off to your left at the end,” he instructed.

Rihanna passed what she assumed must be a series of bedrooms off to her left and right as she made her way down the long corridor. As he had said, the corridor opened out onto an oversize lounge room bordered by several sets of French doors that she figured must open out onto some sort of deck or patio. The room itself was large and airy, the high raked ceiling providing a spaciousness that made the room seem enormous.

In observing the room, Rihanna realised that she had inadvertently stopped in the centre of the room, trying to take in her surrounds. Bray had moved to the French doors and was in the process of opening a central set. The wide set of his shoulders played under the material of his shirt. The first thought that occurred to her was the he was definitely the master of his house and she had a strong suspicion very much the master of his own destiny. It was a personality and will that she sensed would be overwhelming if he put his mind to it. He did everything with a casual assurance that was mesmerising.

He turned and gave her the lazy smile that quirked up at the right-hand corner.

“Why don’t you come out on the veranda and enjoy the view and the night air? I’ll organise some coffee, or something else if you would prefer.”

Was that an underwritten suggestion or her overactive imagination running away yet again? “Tea,” she said, quickly recovering from her thoughts. “I would prefer black tea, if you have it.”

“Tea it is. Go make yourself comfortable and I’ll be out in just a minute.” With that, he turned and moved behind a freestanding wall that she realised must separate the lounge from the kitchen and dining areas. Alone, with her thoughts racing, Rihanna decided to follow his suggestion and enjoy the view of the veranda.

He wasn’t wrong. The night view over the valley was spectacular. The house was sited high enough on the hill to take in the full expanse of the valley unfolding below and in front of the veranda. The black nightscape of the valley opened onto the bustling coast that they had just retreated from. The high-rise buildings continued to provide the neon light show that somehow seemed just for her in the secluded surrounds of the house and grounds.

Rihanna moved to the edge of the veranda and leant her arms on the railing. The slight breeze was tickling her with a subtle chill that was pleasant after the events of the evening. The breeze was also accented with the sweet citrus smell of the mock orange or murraya hedges that are so popular in South East Queensland.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

She jumped slightly at the intrusion of his voice in her thoughts and enjoyment of the
tranquility that the position offered. “I’ve always preferred the country to the hustle and bustle of the coast.” She turned slightly and noticed the confusion in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the coast, the beach and all it has to offer. But I think I like living in the country a little more.”

He walked to a low table that sat between two outdoor lounge chairs. Brayden placed the cups on the table and stretched out on the chair to the right. There was an awkward silence between them. Rihanna did the obvious and settled on the other chair. A lot of experiences had passed between them tonight. Yet they were still very much strangers with an infant bond of trust between them.

Finally, Bray broke the silence.

“So how are you feeling?”

The question was innocent enough, depending upon what level you considered the answer.

How was she feeling?

On one hand, she felt violated, dirty, and extremely anxious about what had happened with the men earlier in the evening. On the other hand, she felt more interest in this guy than she felt in a man in several years, probably ever. But could she trust her instincts or feelings given what had transpired this evening? She did trust him, but why? And was it smart? Probably not.