Falling for Mr. Mysterious

Wincing at the possibilities, she clicked on her message bank and discovered five—count them, five—new text messages from people in Wandabilla.

Normally, she would try to reply, to at least thank these people for their concern, even though they weren’t genuinely close friends but mainly curious gossipers.

Today, however, there were also three voice messages from Michael-slash-Mark, and his first message was full of apologies and entreaties, begging her to ring him back.

Hearing his voice brought a fresh slug of misery and anger, and Emily almost hurled the phone across the room.

She might have done that, actually, if she wasn’t worried that the crash would wake Jude. Her gaze flashed to his novel, Thorn in the Flesh, sitting on the breakfast tray, and she remembered Morgan, Jude’s tough heroine.

Emily needed to be like her. From now on.

Smiling, she picked up the phone and deleted every single message without responding.

It felt good.

Very good, actually.

CHAPTER THREE

Mid-afternoon …

EMILY had been out to a bookshop, where she’d bought two more of Jude’s books, and she was stretched out on the sofa, deeply absorbed in a thrilling mystery set in the wilds of The Kimberley Coast when she heard Jude’s door open. Shortly after, she heard the sound of the shower in the bathroom.

Good. He must be feeling better. She was surprised by how pleased she felt about this. She even found her attention wandering from the book as she waited for Jude to emerge from the bathroom. It was suddenly important to make sure that he really was OK.

When he finally came into the living room, freshly shaved, hair damp from the shower and smelling pleasantly of lemon-scented soap, he was no longer frowning or squinting with pain, and it was almost impossible to tell that he’d been unwell.

‘Feeling better?’ Emily asked with a jolly-nurse smile.

‘Much better, thanks.’ He seemed keen to shrug her concern aside. ‘Actually, I’m heading out now.’

It was crazy to be instantly disappointed. Why should she miss Jude? She’d never been a person who was needy for company.

Annoyed with herself, she held up the book she was reading. ‘I’m really enjoying this, by the way.’

Jude saw the cover and his eyes glinted with amusement. ‘Don’t tell me I’ve acquired a fan?’

‘Perhaps,’ she said airily. ‘You’ve done a good job with Ellie. She has hang-ups like the rest of us, but she wouldn’t dare let them show. I like that about her. She’s classy. And I love that she’s blonde and leggy and carries a pistol in her handbag.’

‘Glad you approve.’ Hands sunk deep in the pockets of his jeans, Jude bowed with mock solemnity, then turned and headed for the door. ‘Don’t worry about dinner,’ he called over his shoulder. ‘It’s my turn to cook tonight.’

Emily was about to remind him that he didn’t like to cook when he looked back and she caught the ghost of a twinkle in his eye.

‘How about I bring home Thai?’ he said, then quickly disappeared before she could answer.

The front door closed behind him, and the apartment felt weirdly empty.

It was quite late, almost dark, when Jude arrived back bearing the promised tubs of takeaway Thai. They ate on the balcony, watching the last of the sunset over distant Mount Coot-tha.

‘I was wondering if you’d like to see a movie tonight,’ he asked as they ate. ‘It’ll cheer us both up.’

‘Do we need cheering up?’

He sent her a measuring glance. ‘Isn’t that why you’re here?’

‘Well, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But I’m not your responsibility, Jude. Don’t feel obliged to entertain me.’

‘I could do with cheering, too. That blasted headache left me feeling a bit out of sorts.’

‘That’s not surprising.’ Emily couldn’t shake off the lingering suspicion that there was something else, something more deeply serious that was troubling him. She didn’t know him well enough to ask, so she said instead, ‘I suppose you’d prefer to see a thriller?’

‘Would you mind?’ He offered her an apologetic shrug. ‘I’ve never been much good with chick flicks.’

‘That surprises me, actually. I thought you must watch them and study them. You write such lovely romantic scenes in your books.’

‘Do I?’ He looked suddenly caught out, almost guilty.

‘But don’t worry,’ Emily assured him. ‘I’m happy to watch a thriller. I’m certainly not in the mood for romance.’

This time when their gazes met, she thought she caught a different expression—a momentary flash in Jude’s handsome grey eyes that caught her completely on the back foot. Not at all what she’d expected from a gay man. For a moment, she’d gained the unlikely impression that he was very much aware of her—as a woman.

Heaven knew she’d read that message in men’s eyes often enough in the past. But surely she was being fanciful now? Of all the guys she’d spent time with, Jude was safe.

To her relief, he said simply, ‘A thriller it is then. There’s a really good one that just came out last week. And it will be my shout. After all, I get to count it as research.’

It was certainly pleasant to get out of the house, to wrap up and walk the frosty streets, and it was nice to know she could enjoy a man’s company without any danger of breaking her heart.

The movie, as Jude had predicted, was an exciting, edge-of-the-seat thriller, and it soon worked its magic. For close to two hours Emily almost stopped thinking about Michael.

Joy.

‘I definitely feel better for having seen that,’ she said as they left the cinema.

Jude raised a questioning eyebrow. ‘Do you want to prolong the fun? Are you in a rush to get home, or would you like to find somewhere for coffee?’

Going back to the apartment would mean returning to her solitary bedroom and her solitary one-track thoughts.

‘I’d love to stay out for a bit longer,’ she admitted. ‘I’m glad you seem to have completely recovered.’

‘So am I.’ He smiled, but the effect was spoiled by the flicker of a shadow in his eyes. ‘I’m fine now.’

Emily wished she hadn’t seen that flicker. For a fanciful second it had looked like the shadow of a falling axe. She wished she could shake off the sense that something was really troubling Jude, and she wondered if he was trying to distract himself, just as she was. It was probably a good thing she’d agreed to stay out.

They found a snug table in the back corner of a crowded coffee shop. Emily ordered hot chocolate, which came with tiny pink and white marshmallows for melting, and Jude ordered tea—Lapsang Souchong, which arrived in a ruby-glass pot, smelling smoky and inexplicably masculine.

‘You drink the same tea as your hero, Raff,’ she teased as she scooped a sticky blob of marshmallow from her mug.

Jude smiled. ‘Strange coincidence, isn’t it?’