Ch3

LARA sat in the nursery, her feet automatically tipping the rocking chair back and forth in a rhythm that was supposed to soothe, although she knew nothing was going to lift the depression of being imprisoned in this life with Gary. She had to escape it. Had to. But how?

She stared bleakly at the empty cot, the empty pram, the empty everything she’d bought for the baby she didn’t have. Stillborn. She wished she’d died with it. The ultimate escape. Probably the only one. Gary was too watchful of her to let her get away. Watchers everywhere.

All the same, she had to go before he made her pregnant again. She desperately hoped it hadn’t happened last night. That would be unbearable. She’d managed to get a packet of contraceptive pills from a pharmacy in Kings Cross, lying about leaving her prescription at home, promising to bring it in the next day. But she’d only been taking them for two weeks and wasn’t sure they would work yet.

Having a child would trap her in this marriage forever. Impossible to flee. Gary would have the law after her in no time flat, getting custody. Everything within her cringed from the thought of leaving a child in his keeping. That couldn’t be allowed to happen.

Marian Keith appeared at the doorway, holding a large white envelope. She was Gary’s choice of housekeeper, a widow in her fifties who’d run into financial difficulties, having sons who needed helping through university and very grateful for the generous wage she earned here.

All the domestic staff were Gary’s choices and they answered to him, not his wife. Yet occasionally Lara did catch a flash of sympathetic concern in the housekeeper’s eyes. More than anyone else, Marian Keith saw what went on in this house. Not that she saw much. Gary was careful to keep his brand of tyranny private.

‘Excuse me, Mrs. Chappel, there’s a gentleman at the door…’

‘You know I can’t see visitors today, Mrs. Keith,’ she said wearily, rocking on, her gaze drifting to the Walt Disney motifs printed on the wall. Snow White. Lara grimaced. She’d certainly eaten a poisoned apple when she’d married Gary Chappel. And there was no one to rescue her. No one.

‘He was very insistent. A Mister Ric Donato…’

Shock slammed into Lara’s heart. Her gaze jerked back to the housekeeper. ‘Who?’ she asked, not ready to accept what she’d heard.

‘He said his name was Ric Donato.’

Unbelievable after all these years! Her mind spun back to the past. How many times had she looked for him then, hoping he’d turn up, wanting to be with him again, not caring who he was or what he didn’t have. Ric Donato. Ricardo…

A lost dream.

One she’d buried as the years went by with no sight of him, no contact with him. Too late now. Impossible to let him see her like this.

‘He asked me to give this to you.’ Marian Keith came into the nursery, holding out the envelope. ‘He’s waiting at the door. He said you’d want to discuss the contents with him, Mrs. Chappel.’

Lara shook her head but she took the envelope and slit the flap open with her finger, curious to see what was inside. She only half removed the glossy sheet of paper, another more fearful shock hitting her at the sight of the faces printed on it.

Her hand instinctively shoved the sheet back in the envelope to keep it hidden. For several moments her mind froze in sheer terror of the consequences if the photograph was released to any form of the media.

‘What should I tell him, Mrs. Chappel?’

Him… Ric Donato waiting at the door…prepared to discuss the contents…

She had no choice.

It was either see him or…

Her heart fluttered. Her chest was unbearably tight. She sucked in air and made the only decision that might save her from Gary’s rage. ‘Show Mister Donato out to the patio, Mrs. Keith. I’ll see him there.’

Hesitation. Worry. ‘Are you sure, Mrs. Chappel?’

Gary would find out she’d had a visitor. No escaping that. She would have to confess why. Dear God! There was no way out. But better to stop this from going public and take the punishment for causing the scene that had been so graphically captured by someone’s camera.

‘I’m sure, Mrs. Keith,’ she said with far more confidence than she felt.

‘Very well.’ A nod of wary acquiescence and a brisk departure.

Lara couldn’t bring herself to move. The envelope gripped in her hand felt like dynamite, the fuse already lit and nothing was going to stop it burning to a dreadful explosion. Even if she was able to block publication of the photo, Gary would hate anyone knowing about it and Ric Donato knew. She shrank from facing the knowledge in his eyes—dark eyes—like dark brown velvet, she had once thought, caressing her, making her feel…

She shuddered, automatically trying to shake off the memory. No point in it. Too much water under the bridge since then. She’d only been fifteen, Ric sixteen. It had been a wildly romantic fixation…a crazy dream…Romeo and Juliet…ending because it had never had a chance of surviving in the real world.

And surviving was what it was all about, Lara thought grimly.

She pushed herself out of the rocking chair. Mentally bracing herself for the inevitable meeting with Ric Donato, she made a quick trip to the downstairs powder room to check her appearance. Make-up almost hid the discolouration around her eye. Carefully drawn lipstick minimised the puffiness of her mouth. Her long blond hair, as always, was a smooth, shiny fall to her shoulders. Even around the house, Gary expected her to maintain an impeccable appearance.

She wore stone-coloured designer jeans and a long-sleeved brown and white striped shirt. The cuff covered the bruise around her wrist. Nothing showed except…she put on a pair of sunglasses—perfectly reasonable to wear them on the patio, considering the sun glare from the swimming pool.

Probably stupid pride, she mocked herself. Ric Donato was not about to be deceived. He hadn’t come to be fobbed off, either, though why he had come…Lara took a deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm her inner agitation. He had to be faced, regardless of what motivation had brought him here.

She carried the envelope and its too revealing contents out to the patio, trying to quell the fear that was making mincemeat of her stomach. He was already there, standing under the sails that shaded the outdoors dining setting, gazing out at the sparkling blue waters of Sydney Harbour.

She was surprised to see him wearing a suit. The fabric and cut of it sharply reminded her of who Ric Donato was now—a man who could afford as many beautifully designed and tailored suits as he cared to own—a man who had the power to broadcast her private secrets to a gossip-hungry world. Over the years she’d read quite a few articles about him—prize-winning photo-journalist, moving into business with a network of photographic agencies around the world.

Yet she found herself staring at the black curly hair that was still worn long enough to dip over the back of his collar, remembering a much younger Ric Donato, remembering her fingers threading through the tight corkscrew curls…

One kiss.

That’s all there’d been between them.

Just one kiss…

He turned abruptly as though suddenly sensing her presence. She couldn’t look into his eyes—eyes that had to know where she was at now. Shame curled around her heart, squeezing unmercifully. How had her life come down to this hopeless prison of fear? It had been like a slippery slide…once on it, no way back.

‘Hello, Lara.’

The soft deep voice caused her pulse to flutter. Still she couldn’t bring herself to meet his gaze. She stared at his mouth—a full lower lip and an emphatically curved upper one. Sexy and sensual. An oddly compelling contrast to the strong chisel chin and the very masculine Roman nose.

She remembered how he’d kissed her…slowly, and oh so seductively, wooing the romantic soul she’d had then. If only she could go back to the past, make different choices, take different paths…

‘Ric…’ she forced herself to say with an acknowledging nod.

He gestured to the envelope in her hand. ‘It was taken at the airport and sent to my Sydney Agency this morning. For sale to anyone interested in buying.’

‘You haven’t sold it on yet?’ she pleaded in a frantic rush, unable to contain the flooding well of panic.

‘No. And I won’t, Lara,’ he assured her. ‘In fact, I’ve just called my executive assistant who told me she’s secured the copyright.’

‘I’ll pay whatever the price was.’

He shook his head. ‘It’s irrelevant.’

Lara gestured haplessly. ‘I don’t understand. Why have you come if not to…’

‘Make good on my investment?’ His mouth quirked into an ironic grimace. ‘Oddly enough, I came for you.’

‘Me?’ It came out as a squeak. Her throat was almost choked by a huge lump of chaotic emotion. She dragged her gaze up to his. Was it caring in his eyes? They burned with some indefinable purpose which certainly encompassed her, making her feel weirdly skittish.

‘Take your sunglasses off, Lara. You don’t have to hide from me.’

‘I’m not…’ She bit down on the lie, but to show her naked face…it was too humiliating. ‘Can’t you leave me with some pride, Ric?’

‘This isn’t about pride. It’s about truth. Just between you and me,’ he stated quietly, giving a promise she instinctively believed.

Besides, he had the photograph. Which he’d effectively quashed from publication. Didn’t that prove he was keeping her situation under wraps?

With a defeated little shrug of resignation, she removed the glasses, revealing the swelling that reduced one of her eyes to a narrow, bloodshot slit. ‘Black truth,’ she said self-mockingly, fighting back the pricking of tears.

He nodded. ‘I never told you my mother was a battered wife.’

Lara flinched at the brutal labelling of what he was seeing.

‘She died of injuries my father inflicted when I was eight,’ he went on, hammering home what could happen. ‘As many times as I tried to protect her, to get in the way, to deflect his violence, I couldn’t save her.’

‘I’m sorry. I…’ She shook her head, swallowing hard to hold back the threatening tears. ‘No, you never told me,’ she choked out, trying desperately to hang on to some dignity.

‘But I can save you, Lara. If you want me to.’

‘Oh, God!’ Control was beyond her. She moved blindly to the closest chair, dragged it out from the table, collapsed onto it, and covered her face with her hands, propping her elbows on the table for some solid support as she wept over the impossible prospect of being saved from a husband who was never going to let her go.

She was horribly conscious of Ric Donato watching her, waiting. At least he didn’t try to touch her or speak comforting words, which would have been unbearable. He remained on the other side of the table, as still as a statue, saying nothing, doing nothing, just giving her time to get herself together again. Which she did eventually, pride in terrible tatters, but as Ric had already said, this wasn’t about pride.

‘Thank you. But there’s nothing you can do.’ She lifted her head, letting him see that stark truth in her eyes. ‘Except what you’ve done…with the photograph. I’m very grateful to you for…for blocking it, Ric.’

Still that dark burning in his eyes. ‘At the airport…you were running from him?’

‘I failed,’ she admitted wretchedly. ‘Everyone here…they all report to him. I can’t go anywhere…without his knowing.’

‘No support from your family, Lara?’ he asked, frowning over her helplessness.

‘My father suffered a stroke.’ Her eyes mirrored the bleak irony of the situation. ‘He’s in one of the Chappel nursing homes. My mother doesn’t want to hear anything against Gary. It’s too…threatening…’

She didn’t go on. Ric knew she was an only child. No siblings to turn to. As for friends, Gary chose them. She’d lost touch with the girlfriends who’d shared her modelling years.

‘But you do want to leave him,’ he pressed.

‘Oh, yes.’ She flashed him a derisive look. ‘I’m not a masochist, Ric.’

‘How much, Lara?’ he challenged. ‘How far would you be willing to go to have Gary Chappel out of your life?’

She shook her head defeatedly. ‘It’s not possible.’

‘Yes, it is,’ he said with such arrogant confidence it goaded her into a reply that snapped with a mountain of miserable frustration.

‘Do you think I haven’t tested what can and can’t be done?’

‘Would you spend a year on an Outback sheep station, away from everything you’ve known?’

The Outback? She’d never thought of that as an escape route. Had never been there. Knew no one there. Was completely ignorant of how people lived there. But they did live. And she’d be free of the fear—fear she knew all too intimately, ever constant.

‘Yes,’ she said, defying any other judgment he might make from the rich and privileged lifestyle that had always been her environment. Desperation bred desperate measures.

‘Are you prepared to walk out with me now? No baggage. Just you, walking out and leaving all this behind.’

‘With…you?’

Her mind whirled with this further shock. Ric Donato wasn’t posing some theoretical situation. He was actually asking her…and she didn’t know the man he was now. How could she agree to such drastic action when her only personal experience with him had become a teenager’s romantic memory? That had been…eighteen years ago!

‘I’m your safe passage, Lara,’ he stated without so much as a flicker of an eyelash. ‘I can get you to Gundamurra where you’ll be protected from any possible pursuit by your husband. You’ll have safe refuge there for the year it takes to get a divorce.’

Gundamurra…it sounded like the end of the earth…primitive…

‘It’s best if you choose quickly,’ he coolly advised. ‘If what you say is true, and everyone here reports to your husband, he may already know of my visit and be suspicious of it.’

‘How can I trust you to do what you say you’ll do?’ she cried, the fear of consequences paralysing any decision-making process.

‘I’m here. I’m offering. What have you got to lose by trusting me?’

‘If you fail, it will be much, much worse.’

‘I won’t fail.’

‘Gary said he’d have a man watching me. Watching the house. Watching where I go.’

‘My car is parked at your front door. I have the resources to evade anyone who follows us.’

He spoke calmly, with an indomitable self-assurance that actually calmed the surge of panic that was screaming through her mind. In its place came a wild litany of hope. Could he do it? Could he really? Get her away to a safe place where Gary couldn’t reach her?

An Outback sheep station.

Why not?

It had to be more civilised than living like this.

‘It’s your choice, Lara. It will be a different life, but at least a life where you can always breathe easy.’

She took a deep breath. ‘This Gundamurra…it belongs to you?’

‘No. But I have lived there. And you’ll be made welcome. It’s where you can get your head straight…if you want to.’

Freedom was all she could think about, but freedom might also have a price tag.

‘If we do this…and succeed in getting there…I’ll owe you big-time, Ric.’

His mouth softened into a whimsical little smile. ‘This isn’t a money issue.’

Money? She hadn’t even thought of money. Looking at the man he’d become—powerful enough to challenge Gary, and feeling his power reaching out and winding around her…what did he want of her?

Was it only compassion for her situation moving him to offer help? What if he was like Gary, taking without caring what she wanted? No, he couldn’t be like that or he wouldn’t have spoken about his mother. She was letting fear screw up her instincts.

‘You can always pay me back whatever you think you owe me after you get a divorce,’ he dropped into her fretful silence.

‘How will I manage a divorce if I’m…?’

‘I know just the guy who can do that for you. Don’t worry about it, Lara. Mitch will nail Gary Chappel to the wall so there’ll be no comeback from your ex-husband.’

She shook her head incredulously. This was all happening so fast—promises being held out that she desperately wanted to grab. ‘Are you sure about this?’

‘Absolutely.’ His dark eyes glittered with more than determined purpose as he stepped forward and picked up the envelope she’d laid on the table. ‘This photograph will be used to gain fair compensation for what you’ve suffered at Gary Chappel’s hands.’

She stared at him, and the feeling that she’d had about Ric Donato as a teenager came flooding back—a driving, unstoppable force. But he had been stopped then…by the police for stealing a car.

No need for him to steal now. He had the wealth and power to make him unstoppable in any enterprise he chose to take on. With that recognition, hope grew in Lara’s heart. Rightly or wrongly, she did trust him. Whatever the risk, his offer was worth taking. At least she should try it.

She scraped her chair back and stood up, adrenalin shooting new energy through her. ‘I’ll go and get ready.’

Decision made.

He nodded, acknowledging it, approving it. ‘Bring nothing more than an ordinary handbag, Lara. Purse, driver’s licence, what you’d normally carry on an outing. Okay?’

She was acutely aware of the sense in that instruction—nothing to suggest a final departure. ‘I’ll only be a couple of minutes, Ric. Wait here for me?’

‘Yes. You can put your sunglasses on again.’

She did, then amazingly she found herself smiling at him, the heady promise of freedom lifting her heart. ‘Thank you, Ric.’

He smiled back. ‘I always wanted to be a white knight coming to the rescue of a fair damsel in distress. It feels good to be at your service, Lara. That’s enough for me.’

It was a reassurance that she was safe with him.

He wouldn’t demand anything of her.

Maybe fairy stories could happen in real life, Lara thought light-headedly, hurrying off to get a bag. Though she couldn’t see Ric Donato as a white knight. More a dark prince.

But dark was good when it came to hiding.

If he could keep her safe from Gary, he would indeed be a prince.