Heads or Tails (4 page)

The key was not to let him close enough to do that. She shivered, as though she could shake loose his thrall, and pushed him back. ‘Don’t you worry about my hormones, Loveridge. Maybe I will start losing my mind, but I’m not yet. I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.’

But Tristan clearly hadn’t taken heed of her warnings because he shouldered one of her hands out of the way and slipped back into her useless barrier and cupped her face with his warm hands.

‘And I’ll burn it down behind you and you know it.’ His voice was rough, his eyes searing into hers. ‘
That’s
why you’re shaking like a leaf. I made you choose me last time, and I can make you do it again.’ His finger traced a line from her lips, along her jaw and down her neck as he spoke: ‘All you need to do is let me in
once,
and it’s game over.’

Ivyanne breathed in sharply at the sensations his touch created and arched her back, letting her eyes flutter shut. He was too good at this. Without question, the most powerful siren of them all. Ever since he’d pulled her into that closet and into his arms, she’d wanted him, if only as a celebration of his safe return and a way of reassuring him that he counted.

‘You’re thinking about it aren’t you?’ He teased.

Ivyanne narrowed her eyes. Oh yes, he counted all right. But in what way? And to what degree? And for how long?

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Ivyanne snapped out of her stupor, and glanced towards the front of the house, pushing Tristan’s arm down.

‘That’s Lincoln,’ she said dumbly.

Tristan rolled his eyes. ‘Hurray!’ But he laughed and stepped back. That was when Ivyanne noticed that his face was also flushed, his chest moving rapidly with his shallow, excited breathing.

‘I’ll let you get it, and save him the shock of seeing
my
pretty face first.’

Ivyanne turned towards the door, but then Tristan took her by the arm and forced her to look him dead in the eye.

‘Just so you know,’ he said in a low voice, ‘I think about you, and what I long to do to you,
every
night.’ He angled his head, looking at her shoulder, taking the pressure of eye contact out of the equation as though he sensed it would drive her off while invading her personal space as keenly as he always did, and added: ‘You can help me sleep at night if you tell me that you’ve thought about me too...and about what I
should
have done to you when we were locked in that closet together.’

Ivyanne said nothing, but nodded mutely again, face burning. It was so easy to give him a silent admission while his gaze wasn’t raping hers.

Tristan’s head bowed further, eyes closing, a blissful smile smoothing his features into an angelic and relieved expression. ‘Thank you,’ he said softly, then stepped past her, pausing to whisper in her ear: ‘Think about me again at eleven this evening, and we can retrace our steps together, even if we aren’t in the same bed…’

Leaving
that
notion burning through her mind, Tristan turned and swaggered out the rear door once more. Ivyanne gasped out an exhalation and opened the fridge, briefly resting her burning face against the chilled shelf and mentally kicking Garridan’s ass for inviting back the men she couldn’t decide between-and the fantasies that came with them.

*

Lincoln’s mouth fell open the moment the taxi dropped him off at Ivyanne’s door. The property was incredible, blowing his expectations out of the water. From the winding, shadowy driveway that seemed to stretch for a kilometer, to the stone fencing which hugged the manicured lawns-everything screamed ‘Wealth!’

‘Hey Link!’ Garridan Loveridge called out cheerfully from the left corner of the house. He was holding two German Shepherds by the collar. ‘Go right up and ring the bell while I hold these two.’

Lincoln nodded dumbly, waving gratefully to the silver fox (who was uncomfortably bulky and handsome given that in human years, he appeared to be the same age as Lincoln’s dowdy father) and came to a dead stop before the inset entrance doors, gaping at them. They were at least eight feet high and made of dark tinted glass with large aluminum carvings, resembling seaweed artistically welded all over them. He was sure one was the handle, but
which
?

He spotted the doorbell at the same moment a security camera made a buzzing noise above his head. He reached out and pushed the button, looking up at the lens, trying to look cool and composed.

Ivyanne answered the door a moment later, her eyes bright, her face flushed.

‘Hey Link!’ She threw her arms around him. Her skin carried the scent of coconut oil. ‘Welcome.’

‘Hey yourself!’ He returned her embrace, not wanting to let go.

Ivyanne’s hands were crossed behind his shoulders. Now, she pressed them into the muscles above his shoulder blades and pulled back, cocking an eyebrow.
‘You’ve been working out?’

Lincoln shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Just swimming.’

‘Well, it uh, works for you.’ She smiled, and there was a trace of longing in her eyes. Seeing it accelerated his heartbeat. She loved him. That hadn’t changed.

Lincoln didn’t want her to know he’d been in the resort gym for two hours every morning before indulging in a sunrise swim with Marcus. He’d tried including Bane, but the Hawaiian boy didn’t give a wink for his general health beyond eating well. Not that he needed to-he and Grace seemed to have been blessed with Ivyanne’s incredible metabolism.

He gestured past her. ‘This place is-’

‘I know, right?’ she disentangled herself from his arms, but took him by the hand and rolled her eyes as she moved forward. ‘Garridan chose it. I liked the one on the other side of the hill, and it was a bit cheaper, but he said
no
because the guy who built it is apparently well known and the house was in the papers….’ her voice trailed off and she shrugged. ‘Probably for the best, although Pintang and I really wanted to use the helipad for roller skating…’

‘
Helipad
?’ Lincoln looked around as Ivyanne led him down the hall, feeling his insides clench. ‘I know the house you’re talking about Ivyanne and if that was cheaper than this…. wow. I’m afraid to touch anything.’

Ivyanne laughed. ‘Don’t be silly. It’s not like the toilet is made of gold. I think most of the worth is in the land and the security downstairs-bullet proof glass doors, electric block out hurricane shutters, security room, surveillance…’

Lincoln couldn’t get over the opulence of the house as it unfolded before him, and he squeezed Ivyanne’s hand, reminding himself that he did belong there. The floor he was walking on was marble, and as he descended yet another flat flight of stairs, found himself standing on one living space, which overlooked a second, sunken living space that was more
outside
than in, merging both. The entire front wall which was the size of a cinema screen, was open, affording a view of a brilliant blue pool suspended over the ocean beyond. The pool had no edge, it was as though the water simply fell away into the sea. Just beyond it bobbed a large white yacht.

‘This is incredible.’ Lincoln couldn’t take a step further. He gaped at Ivyanne. ‘How rich
are
you?’

Ivyanne looked at him with an innocent, non-plussed expression. ‘I told you we were from old money...’

‘You
said
‘old money’ not
all
the old money!’

Ivyanne cocked her head. ‘Are you weirded out?’

Lincoln’s eyes skipped back to the panoramic view of Funnel Bay beyond the building. The living room they were in held one large L-shaped couch, which he guessed could seat fifteen people easily, the bright red cushions a contrast to the white walls and timber paneled ceilings. Beneath that, the ‘outer’ living space contained a large, round chair the size of a queen-sized bed, stacked with white cushions he knew he would sink into, surrounded by a few smaller, circular swing chairs. The floors were slate there leading to a timber deck that surrounded the pool. Several fountains trickled into the depths at intervals, and the sapphire blue pool water lapped over the edge, the sound it made reminding him of lake water after a boat had taken off, like he’d heard in Tasmania growing up.

It was a magnificent space, the kind of luxury he thought of when he imagined how Middle-Eastern Sheik’s lived, not
his
princess, who had spent the last few months in relatively modest dwellings.

‘I am,’ Lincoln eventually stuttered. He turned to her. ‘My god Ivyanne I had no idea. I’m feeling a little, no
very
, intimidated right now!’

Ivyanne’s brow creased. ‘But Link, you own a
resort
. Your pools are way nicer, you know-there
are
five of them.’ She smiled. ‘And a tennis court. I haven’t got one of
those
, you know.’

‘It’s still probably worth
half
of this,’ he said. ‘And I have to share it with thirty paying guests at a time to afford it.’ He gestured around. ‘This must be worth…’

‘A quarter of,’ Ivyanne said nonchalantly, taking his hand.

‘The fact that you don’t mean ‘million’
terrifies
me.’ He allowed her to pull him down to the second level. ‘I’m starting to see why your parents were dead-set against you making out in the bushes with an accountant’s son and lifeguard.’

Ivyanne laughed. ‘Well, they changed their minds, didn’t they? So you’re obviously worthy.’ She stopped and turned to gaze up at him with cautious green eyes. ‘You’re not going to freak out on me are you?’

‘I didn’t think I was good enough for you before,’ he admitted. ‘Now I’m close to peeing my pants.’

‘Well don’t.’ Ivyanne leaned up and kissed his cheek. ‘I haven’t got a maid yet.’

‘You won’t need one,’ Lincoln followed her as she resumed walking, his senses dulled by the feel of her lips on his skin. ‘It’ll take six months to dirty this floor. It’ll take me a
week
to cross it.’

‘Ha ha,’ Ivyanne led him past a brilliant open fire pit, and motioned for him to take a seat at the table, dropping his hand. It was a natural thing to do, and yet it made him feel cold all over. Garridan, Tristan and Pintang were already seated at the table, smiling at him.

‘Hello Lincoln,’ Garridan said. ‘Sorry I didn’t get a chance to greet you properly outside.’

‘Don’t worry about it,’ Lincoln slid into a chair, noticing that Ivyanne made no move to sit. In fact, she’d gone over to a comfortable looking day bed, and was stepping into a pair of loose white drawstring pants made of crochet. ‘I was more than happy for you to wrangle those, uh, cute doggy’s.’

‘Nothing cute about Flotsam and Jetsam,’ Pintang said. ‘They’ll tear you limb from limb.’

‘I figured as much,’ Lincoln was afraid to smudge the glass top of the cane table with his fingertips, so he crossed his arms uncomfortably. It bothered him that across from him, Tristan looked right at home.
He turned back to Pintang. ‘You’re looking well.’

Her hair was tucked up into a messy-bun, and a few, pink-tipped strands brushed across her face. ‘I’m getting there,’ she said softly. ‘I’ll feel a lot better when mum snaps out of her shock.’

‘She’s
still
in shock?’

Pintang nodded, her blue eyes troubled. ‘Dad’s come to terms with it all, but mum can’t stop crying. Not just over Ardhi, but mainly what he’s done. He’s brought insurmountable shame upon our family name, which has always been a sacred issue with her.’ Pintang licked her lips. ‘In fact,
I’m
changing my name back to Wood.’

‘Really? Why?’

‘Changing our name, crossing the branches... our family hadn’t quite lived that down when Ardhi did what he did. I’m hoping mum and dad agree to it too. It’ll separate us from him. Demonstrate when our allegiance lies.’

Lincoln nodded. ‘It’s a shame that you feel it’s necessary, but it’s admirable that you’re willing to.’ He inclined his head. ‘Still no word?’

Pintang hugged herself, her bright blue eyes troubled.

‘Nothing,’ she whispered. ‘And if he’s smart, he’ll keep it that way.’

‘But we
need
him to be stupid,’ Tristan spoke up, examining his nails. ‘I can barely sleep at night, wondering if he’s just outside my door. In fact, my new apartment in Sydney is on the thirty-eighth floor, and it has two doormen. We’ve even moved the
office
.’

‘Wish it was that simple for me,’ Lincoln said quietly. ‘I feel like The Seaview has a big bullseye on it.’

‘Well it does,’ Garridan spoke up. ‘I’d like us to have the chance to discuss security there later.’

‘How can you possibly expect to secure that many acres?’ Ivyanne was lacing the front of her pants and sitting at the furthermost seat from them all. The distance between them made him ache.

‘We can’t,’ Garridan admitted. ‘But we can make it harder for anyone to sneak in.’

‘Good luck with that,’ Lincoln chuckled, trying not to stare at the shadow between Ivyanne’s breasts as she leaned forward on the table and propped her chin in her hands. He glanced over at Tristan, and was met with a knowing wink. Despite himself, Lincoln returned a covert smile.