“Why?”
“Because you’re damaging to my love life,” I replied heading for the door. “That’s why.”
***
I expected that my bin bin plans had gone up in smoke, but Shiloh wasn’t one to give in easily. By the time I got inside she’d already changed out of her work uniform and was plotting our escape.
“There’s just no privacy, Mitchell,” she grumbled. “We need to get out of here for a while.”
“Okay.” I slipped my arm around her middle and hauled her in close. “Where do you want to go?”
“A hotel.”
“There are no hotels here,” I pointed out. “You know that.”
Perhaps she had plans for making the two o’clock bus to Cape Town with the sleek Greeks and the caged chickens. After spending the longest week of my life in bed for non-recreational purposes, I would’ve been on board with that outlandish plan, but Shiloh doesn’t do outlandish.
“I know of one,” she said quietly. “The Fat Cat Four Seasons. The service is terrible, but the rates are cheap.”
“Great.” I leaned, kissing her beautiful mouth. “Let’s do it.”
***
Making use of the Fat Cat facilities should’ve been simple. The problem was, the small house was locked up tighter than a drum. Both front windows had security screens and the front door was dead-bolted. If Shiloh was counting on me to get us in, she was sorely out of luck.
“I could kick the door in,” I joked, glancing at her, “but someone might notice.”
Shiloh stepped up. “I can get us in.”
“Do you want to borrow my shoelace again?”
She flashed me a sly smile that probably matched my own. “Not this time,” she replied, reaching into her pocket. “We’re going to take a more professional approach.”
I had no idea what the two small tools in her hand were for, but I didn’t have to wait long for an explanation. “They’re lock picks.” She waved them at me. “Sexy, right?”
I shook my head. “They’re not doing it for me so far.”
That was a lie. Every now and then, the good girl turned rogue – and it was hotter than hell.
Shiloh took a step closer to me. “This is a tension wrench,” she murmured, holding it out to me. “It’s used to apply pressure to turn the lock cylinder.”
I didn’t even look at it. The hard press of her body against mine was all I could focus on, and when she turned to push the wrench into the lock, I moved with her.
“Apply a little bit of torque to the cylinder, and it turns just a little bit,” she explained.
My arm closed around her as I undid a few buttons on her shirt and slipped my hand inside. “Then what?” I whispered in her ear.
“Then it stops.” Her calm, breathy tone was a crock. I could feel her heart hammering. “You have to feel the firmness of the stop. If you turn it the wrong way, it’ll feel firm and stiff. If you turn it the right way, there’s a little more give.”
With my free hand, I swept her hair off her shoulder. “Stiff and firm,” I murmured against her neck. “Got it.”
She managed to hold the small wrench in place while she pushed the pick into the lock. Clearly the lesson in breaking and entering was over. The commentary ceased too, and after a few sharp moves with the pick, the door opened.
Shiloh hesitated a fraction too long so I stepped inside, pulling her with me before kicking the door shut with my foot. Impatient to feel her skin on mine, I dragged my T-shirt over my head and threw it on the couch behind her.
And then I slowed my roll, taking a long moment to study her beautiful face.
“What do you see?” The shakiness in her voice led me to think it was a deadly serious question that deserved an honest answer.
“Different things, depending on the day.” Her breath quickened at my touch as I combed a wisp of hair from her face. “Sometimes I see vulnerability and little flashes of fear.”
I undid the last few buttons of her shirt and pushed it off her shoulders, closing my eyes for a second as my lips brushed across the warm skin of her chest. “And then you do something fearless and show me kick-arse determination and spark,” I added. “What do you want me to see?”
I wondered if she knew. Shiloh Jenson was by far the most confusing, mystifying woman I had ever known, and I’d never been more intrigued in all my life.
“I want you to see everything,” she softly replied. “Even when I steer you wrong.”
I understood her perfectly. We lived in a dog-eat-dog land, and whether we liked it or not, we all put up barriers to survive.
I raked my fingers through her hair, settling my hand on the back of her neck. “Everything in Kaimte is to the extreme,” I gently explained. “I can’t just pull beers for a living. I have to negotiate with thugs to get the beer – and we both know that doesn’t always end well.” The corner of my mouth lifted, fighting a smile. “I don’t usually have a confrontational bone in my body,” I continued. “But I’m who I have to be to get through the day.”
Her shoulders slumped. “My job is awful, Mitchell.” The words came out in a rush; as if it was a confession she was glad to be rid of. “I don’t belong there.”
From the minute I met her I’d thought she seemed like an odd fit for Jorge Creek Diamond Company, but I’d never questioned it. Now I felt like an utter jerk for not taking more interest. “Do you want to talk about it?” I dipped my head, chasing her eyes. “You can tell me anything.”
“No.” She shook her head. “I can’t tell you a single thing about my job.”
I took no offence. She handled the security of diamonds for a living. It was fair to assume that there were strict policies in place when it came to sharing information with others.
“Just stick it out until your transfer comes through,” I urged, leaning to kiss her forehead.
“Then what?” Her voice was tiny. “What will happen with us?”
“We’ll go home,” I replied matter-of-factly. “And start again in the real world.”
It was an idea I’d been toying with all week. Since my run-in with Louis at the port, paradise was well and truly lost, and the only good thing I had left was a plan to jump ship as soon as her job transfer came through.
Shiloh didn’t look convinced. “You’d really leave this place?”
“Yes.” I focused only on her mouth. “Without you here, I have no reason to stay.”
The bruising kiss that followed was spectacular – fierce yet gentle, and just as confusing as the rest of her.
Determined to have every square inch of her body, I gathered her in my arms and pulled her to the floor. As her body melted against mine, she turned her head and whispered, “I love falling in love with you, Mitchell Tate.” The words floated from her lips like a sigh, touching on my cheek like a soft kiss.
But falling implied that we’d eventually bottom out, and I was going to do everything I could to stop that from happening.
Chez Fat Cat
SHILOH
As the crooked circles that I moved in began to widen, I started to crave some level of normality. Spending the day at Chez Fat Cat helped immensely.
After a blissful few hours on the living room floor, Mitchell and I moved to higher ground, making the most of the wonderfully deep bathtub. My whole body felt like jelly – boneless and weak, which was the exact opposite of the way Mitchell looked. The pent-up tension was gone, but no part of that man’s body could ever have been described as soft.
A few tiny grazes and a slightly swollen nose were the only visual reminders of the horrible state he’d been in a week ago, but I knew he was still sore, and having my legs wedged by his side probably wasn’t helping.
“Thirty-three inches,” I said randomly.
“Huh?”
“That’s my inseam measurement,” I replied. “I am quite literally all legs so no bath can hold me.”
His dark chuckle echoed around the bathroom. “I think this is the perfect posit
ion for you.” Starting at my ankle, he slowly trailed a line up my shin. “And your beautiful legs.”
I clamped my knees together, trapping his hand. “Tell me something random that I don’t know about you.”
I didn’t think it was a difficult question, but he frowned as if coming up with something took effort. “Well,” he began. “I have a twin sister.”
“I know that already.”
“We’re not identical.” He grinned at me. “Random enough?”
Releasing my grip on his hand, I settled back into the water. “I’m sure you’re much prettier.”
He laughed. “Don’t tell Jasmine that.”
My thoughts drifted to a faraway place, imagining how different his life in Tasmania would be compared to the hard-knock life he’d built in Kaimte. Mitchell always spoke fondly of his sisters, but I got the impression that they weren’t particularly close. He once told me that Mimi was a pussycat by comparison, and if that was true he had good reason to keep his distance.
“When you go home, what will you do?” My voice was small, possibly because it was none of my business.
“I’m not sure yet,” he replied. “I have a bit of money saved so I’ll be okay for a while.” His hand wrapped around my foot. “I’m looking forward to reconnecting with my family, but I’m worried that I don’t have a place there any more. I might get lost.”
“I’m sure that’s not true,” I said confidently. “You’ll be fine.”
He smiled, looking more self-assured. “Home is where the heart is, right? And you’ll be with me.”
I tried picturing myself by his side, but couldn’t. Even closing my eyes didn’t help. Our happy ending had been ripped to shreds by the very first lie I’d told him. He just didn’t realise it yet.
“We have a lot to work out,” I mumbled, raising my knees to my chest.
Mitchell hunched forward, showcasing every sculpted muscle on his side. It looked good, but it was a move that hurt. He rested his forehead on my knees and exhaled a long breath before speaking. “I have a confession to make.”
That makes two of us, I didn’t reply.
“I find myself daydreaming about times we’ve never had.” He lifted his head to look at me. “Proper dates – dinners in fancy restaurants and other grown-up things. I’ve never done that before.”
I put my hands on the side of his face, gently swiping my thumb along the faded bruise under his eye. “I can’t believe I found you now – in this place.” The frustrated edge to my tone was lost on him.
“I know, right?” He flashed me a killer smile. “Of all the rotten luck.”
“I hate this town, Mitchell.”
“I know you do,” he murmured.
The conversation had taken an unexpectedly serious turn. My eyes welled with tears that just couldn’t be blinked away. “I never get any peace here.”
The bad guys kept me in a constant state of unease, and the good guys were just as tiring. Living on a knife’s edge was taking a severe toll. The pure exhaustion I felt couldn’t even be cured by sleep any more.
A strong arm wrapped around me, dripping warm water down my back. “I’ll take you somewhere quiet,” he offered, breathing the words against my cheek. “Tonight, after the pub closes.”
“Away from this place?” I sniffled.
He kissed the top of my head. “Away from the whole world.”
Dumb Boy
MITCHELL
Shiloh’s mini-meltdown had been on the cards for a while. No matter how boring and monotonous her desert store detective job might’ve been, a week of working nightshifts had wrecked her. Thankfully she had the next four days off to recover, and I was determined to make it a decent break for her.
With Melito and Vincent whooping it up in Cape Town, life in the cardboard village was bound to be quieter. The only drama I foresaw was Mimi, who was proving even harder to deal now that she’d called off her witch-hunt.
When we arrived at the Crown and Pav that afternoon, she was already hard at work smoking the place out with burning sage.
“At least she’s not waving it at me any more,” mumbled Shiloh from the corner of her mouth.
Considering she’d been covering my shifts all week, I should’ve been bowing at Mimi’s feet, but as soon as Shiloh wandered out of earshot I pulled her aside and read her the riot act. “No craziness tonight, please.”
Mimi shot me a look of pure acid. “My craziness healed your face, dumb boy,” she snapped. “I can break it again.”
“I know you can,” I replied. “Just be nice, okay?”
She answered with a stiff nod and ordered me out of the bar. “Make yourself useful,” she demanded. “Set up the umbrellas.”
Refusing to let her have the win, I mumbled my way out of the door as if I was pissed. Truthfully, my mood bordered on epic. Nothing was going to bring me down – even the realisation that six of the outdoor umbrellas had been nicked while I was away.
Shiloh looked outraged. “Are you going to report them as stolen?”
My reply got caught in a laugh. “Who to?”
Perhaps remembering where we were, she shook her head. “Never mind.”
I looped my arm around her waist. “You’re beautiful when you’re being righteous and civic-minded.”
Finally, she broke a smile. “Suits me, right?”
“Absolutely,” I murmured, dipping her backwards. “You should’ve been a copper.”
***
Now that I was back at work, there wasn’t any need for Mimi to hang around, but just like the burnt sage smell, I couldn’t get rid of her.
“It might get busier,” she claimed. “Then you’ll need me.”
Shiloh pulled up a stool and sat at the end of the bar, which pleased Mimi no end. She leaned across the counter and attempted to whisper to her, which was pointless. The woman couldn’t whisper in a silent room. “I have something for you, girl.”
Looking far too excited by the prospect, Shiloh straightened up on the stool. “You do?”
“Not here.” Mimi glanced at me. “It’s secret business.”
“Go somewhere else then,” I suggested, shooing her away with the cloth in my hand.
For once she didn’t argue. The side door slammed and seconds later, Shiloh was being led away by the elbow.
“Bring her back in one piece,” I called. “I mean it, Mimi.”
Keeping a watchful eye on them as they disappeared on to the dark beach was impossible, but I wasn’t overly worried. Mad Mimi had given up trying to exorcise Shiloh, and Shiloh was more than capable of kicking her arse if she tried.
I had no time to worry anyway. Just as Mimi predicted, business did pick up. Being busy reminded me that I actually missed the place, and for a short while everything was golden.
From what I could tell, the usual crew of locals was happy to have me back – especially those who’d thought I was dead.
“You bring us good juju, Mitchell,” crowed one bloke.
I handed him a bottle. “No, I bring you beer.”
“Same thing,” he replied.
I stood watching as he weaved his way through the tables in a bid to reach his mates, and then the bigger picture caught my attention.
My beloved pub on the beach was rocking, and now that I’d made the decision to leave, that realisation was hugely important.
I had no idea what I was going to do with my life when I got home, but suddenly I realised it didn’t matter. Seven years ago I took on a floundering, rundown business and turned it around. That meant I could do it again.
Secret Business
SHILOH
There were no shades of grey where Mimi Traore was concerned. If she hated you she wished you were dead, but if she liked you she took you under her wing like a fierce mama hen. For the time being I was on her list of beloved.
As soon as we were clear of the bustle of the pub, she marched me out onto the open beach.
When Mitchell talked about Kaimte being par
adise, this was surely what he meant. The bright moon lit the ocean, giving us a perfect view of lazy waves that were barely crawling to shore.
“What a lovely night,” I wistfully declared.
Mimi wasn’t as entranced. “Hold out your hand,” she demanded.
Digging my heels into the cool sand, I did as she asked. Mimi pulled string after string of beads from the front pocket of her dress and dropped them into my palm.
“Bin bin beads?”
A flash of surprise glinted in her eyes. “Who told you?” she barked, snatching them back. “It’s secret business.”
Unwilling to throw Hiatte to the wolves, I kept my answer vague. “A lady at the pub.”
Mimi rattled a fistful of beads at me. “You must never tell.”
I threw both hands up. “I won’t, I swear.”
Seemingly satisfied with the level of terror in my voice, she released me from her iron glare – and then things got weird. “Take off your pants.”
“No!”
Despite my loud protest, the crazy woman lurched forward and tugged at my shorts, managing to drag them only as low as my hips. “That will do.”
“I’m bloody pleased to hear it,” I snapped. “Now what are you doing?”
Showing slightly more consideration for my modesty, she dropped to her knees and draped a string of glass beads around my waist. “These will keep him enchanted,” she assured me. “Purple beads combine the energy of red and the stability of blue.”
I couldn’t see how she fastened it, but within mere seconds she’d moved on to the next string. “White beads for faith and purity.”
As she squinted at the pile in her hand looking for her next string of choice, I asked an important question. “How many will I be wearing?”
“That depends.” Mimi looked up at me. “How long do you want him to love you?”
The answer effortlessly tumbled from my mouth. “Until he can’t.”
She deliberated for a short moment before plucking a yellow string from the pile. “Forgiveness,” she said, draping it around my middle. “Yellow brings the power of mercy and forgiveness, and I think you need plenty.”