IF THERE was one thing Jenna prided herself on, it was her ability to cook. Years of long school holidays where she’d been alone and a childhood where her only friends had been servants had driven her into the kitchen of her parents’ various homes and hotels. There she’d met possibly the only kindness she knew. In the process she’d learned fabulous cooking.
She needed all her skills now. To make a decent stir-fry with two fresh(ish) onions and everything else from cans was a skill in itself.
‘Why don’t you just chuck the lot together and stir?’ Riley demanded as she drained and dried every can of vegetables.
‘Because I’d end up with stew.’
‘What’s wrong with stew?’
‘To someone who survives on baked beans, probably nothing. But some of us have taste.’
He smiled, a low, lazy smile that had her curiously unsettled as he watched some more. ‘Why are you putting those vegetables to one side?’
‘I’ll feed Karli the basics. Rice and sauce will be easy to feed her when she’s three-quarters asleep. Then I’ll reheat and stir the crunchy vegetables in just before you and I eat. There’s nothing worse than snow peas that don’t crunch.’
‘I thought there was nothing worse than baked beans.’
‘Baked beans don’t even count in the worse stakes,’ Jenna said darkly. ‘Okay. Done. Stir this while I wake Karli.’
Somewhat to her surprise he did stir. Then, as she carried a dopey, half-asleep little girl back into the kitchen he surprised her further by holding out his arms to take her.
She hesitated. She wasn’t accustomed to receiving help and she half expected Karli to shy away. But Karli settled on Riley’s lap without a murmur, gazed at Jenna with eyes that were barely focussing and let herself be fed like a baby.
If she wasn’t really hungry she wouldn’t have been able to eat at all, Jenna thought, but she managed to get a good few mouthfuls into her before the little girl’s eyes sank closed again.
‘Thank you,’ she whispered to Riley as she gathered Karli up again to take her back to bed.
‘Think nothing of it.’ He smiled again, and once again that strange, unsettled feeling swept over her. She glanced at him uncertainly. But now wasn’t the time to examine why he was making her feel as she was undoubtedly feeling. She had to focus on Karli.
It took her a few minutes to settle the little girl back into bed, and when she returned Riley was scooping the stir-fry onto two plates. He’d added the crunchy vegetables all on his own.
‘I thought you’d never come,’ he told her. ‘I decided that your snow peas would definitely go soggy.’
‘I thought you didn’t care.’
‘I care.’ He gazed down to where every vegetable was clearly delineated in its succulent sauce, and the rice underneath was fluffy and fragrant. He closed his eyes and sniffed in appreciation. ‘Believe me, I care.’
‘What-with your baked beans going to waste in their crate?’
‘I guess I could just try this to be nice,’ he said grudgingly. He sat-and then had to make a wild grab for his plate as Jenna hauled it away. He missed. ‘Hey!’
‘There’s no need to be polite on my account.’ Jenna sat herself down with two plates before her. ‘I’ll nobly eat your share. You go bake your beans, Mr Jackson.’
His gorgeous grin swept back. ‘Miss Svenson, can I have my dinner back?’ His grin deepened as Jenna hauled his plate further away. ‘I really would like to try your dinner-and it’s greedy to eat that much by yourself.’
Jenna eyed him with caution. His grin was magnetic. Wonderful.
She wanted more of it.
‘Say please.’
‘Please,’ Riley said promptly and grabbed-and the first mouthful went down before Jenna even managed to smile. He tasted and his eyes widened in astonishment.
‘Wow!’
‘Don’t you want your beans?’
‘No way.’ He devoured another forkful and then another. ‘I’m thinking I might put a lock on the door and keep you here for ever. Silly girl to get off the train. Now you have a job for life.’
A job for life.
She didn’t answer. Suddenly her laughter died. She forced herself to keep on eating, but his words had hit an exposed nerve. The light-hearted banter she’d been indulging in was a camouflage.
She ate on, but she couldn’t stop thinking. A job for life.
What was she going to do now? How could she cope?
Riley had suggested keeping her here-locking the door-and there was nothing stopping him doing just that. Would Brian look for his daughter? Would her own father care?
No one would.
And Nicole was dead.
She looked up and found Riley’s eyes were on her, gently questioning. His grin had disappeared. ‘I won’t, you know,’ he told her.
‘You won’t?’
‘Keep you here.’ He smiled again, but now his smile was one of disarming gentleness. ‘You know, if I could take you to Adelaide I would. But in four days I’ll put you on the train and you’ll be safe. You’ll be safe while you’re here as well. You can trust me, Jenna.’
It was a totally uncalled-for gesture of reassurance and it floored her. She’d landed herself on this man with her own stupidity, and he was being so…so nice.
There was a lump forming in the back of her throat and she fought it back. She’d last cried…when? She couldn’t remember. She never cried and she wasn’t about to now.
‘This Brian,’ he said, seeing her distress, and leading her away from it. ‘Karli’s father. He was on the train?’
‘Yes.’
‘If he looks at a map he’ll see how much danger you’re in.’
‘He won’t look at a map,’ she said dully. ‘He’s achieved his ends. He won’t be thinking of us at all.’
Riley finished his dinner, looked at his empty plate with regret, and pushed back his chair with an air of a man who had all night to listen. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’
‘Not much.’
‘If I’m to help…’
‘There’s nothing more you can do to help,’ she told him. ‘You’re doing enough.’
He hesitated. ‘Then tell me because I want to know,’ he said softly. ‘You had a reason for getting off that train and I want to know what it was.’
‘We should never have been on it.’
‘So why were you?’
‘Nicole sent us tickets.’ She bit her lip. ‘Or I thought Nicole sent us tickets.’
‘Nicole?’
‘My mother. Karli’s mother.’
His eyes didn’t leave her face. ‘The lady who died yesterday. Are you going to explain?’
She sighed. She hauled his plate towards her and made to get up, but his hand shot across the table and caught her wrist. His hold was strong, yet gentle. Urgent yet patient.
‘Tell me, Jenna.’
There was nothing else to do. She needed this man’s help. She had to tell him.
‘Nicole Razor is…was my mother,’ she said and watched his eyes widen.
‘Nicole Razor. The lead singer for Skyrazor?’
‘That’s the one,’ she said grimly. ‘Ex-singer, ex-model, ex-drug addict, ex-anything else you want to name.’
‘I remember. She used to be married to…’ He hesitated and she saw his eyes widen as he hit memory recall and got the connection. ‘…Charles Svenson.’
