Counterfeit Love (22 page)

Byron was asleep in her bed, still in his black pants from the night before, by the time Lucy staggered back to her apartment late the next morning. She’d left him to clean up while she went back to Yu’s to meet her camera crew. The police were also on their way.

Lucky Byron
. He’d been able to send off his report on the counterfeit drugs shipment without leaving her bedroom.
He must have a team of reporters helping, to make it look that easy.
She’d spent half the night and all morning doing updates from the Peak.

She was on the spot right after the police arrived. Right there when Yu was led from the house in cuffs and the counterfeit drugs were carted off, and she’d crossed to the cargo terminal where police were still going through the shipment on the dock. Thanks to Byron’s information, TVi had a crew down there as well. It had been a massive event.

She was exhausted but still buzzing, partly because her boss had called from home to congratulate her. The Director of News had said
Well done!
to her, at 2 a.m., from his actual house. She’d nearly passed out.

‘Hey sleepyhead.’ Lucy stroked Byron’s bare back. ‘You gonna lie there all day?’

Byron slowly opened his eyes, a spot of dried blood still clinging to his forehead. ‘I feel like shit,’ he groaned. He sat up and put his feet on the floor, his head slumped over his chest. ‘Hell of a weapon you carry.’

Lucy sat down beside him and pressed her face into his shoulder. ‘Sorry.’

Byron winced. ‘Ouch.’

‘I didn’t even touch your face.’

‘It still hurts.’

Lucy pouted. ‘Which bit doesn’t?’

He pointed to his lips. She gently held his face and kissed him. ‘Thank you for coming to Yu’s house. I didn’t really need to be rescued. But it was a gallant gesture.’

Byron raised his eyebrows. ‘A
gallant gesture
? Babe, I saved your ass.’

Lucy smiled. ‘Hardly.’ She was still unsure what would have happened if Byron hadn’t turned up. Maybe he
had
saved her, or maybe she didn’t need to be saved. She’d never know.

‘I see one of your colleagues has taken all the credit for your Cobra story.’

Byron shook his head. ‘Cal wrote it, he deserves the by-line.’

‘Why him? I thought you’d been working on it for a year. It was
your
story.’

‘We were working on it together. But he wrote the story because … I quit last night.’

‘What?’

‘I phoned through all the latest details to Cal. Then I called my boss and quit. I’ve done some dubious things in my career, but the way the guys broke into your apartment was too much.’

‘What did your boss say?’

‘He told me to bugger off and that I couldn’t quit. He ordered me to take a break and come back in a month. But he did say he’d fired the guys who broke into your apartment. It was some jackasses trying to make a name for themselves.’

Lucy flopped back on the bed and studied Byron. ‘So what are you going to do?’

Byron shrugged. ‘I need a break first. I haven’t had a full day off in a year.’

‘You know, they’d love you at TVi, if you ever decided to come out of the shadows.’

‘With a face like this?’ Byron laughed, getting to his feet. ‘All I can think about now is a month on a beach.’ He paused. ‘And a hot shower. Can I borrow a towel?’

Lucy pulled a towel from her cupboard and threw it at him. He caught it and stumbled off to the bathroom. She flopped back on her bed, the past week running in circles around her mind.

She hadn’t even told Byron her big news yet. She’d been asked to do a screen test – a chance for a practice run at reading the news in the studio! It didn’t mean she was going to be asked to present the news right away, but at least she was regarded as anchor material. She hoped, anyway. She closed her eyes and imagined what she might wear to the screen test, but her head just felt like a ball of soggy cotton wool. Nothing was coming together, and before she knew it she was asleep.

‘Hey you, sleeping beauty.’ Byron kissed her on the cheek. ‘How about breakfast?’

Lucy opened her eyes to see Byron standing over her in a towel, water dripping from his hair, his wounds clean, his skin glowing.

‘How dare you look that good?’ Now she was the grubby one, still in her work skirt and crushed silk shirt. She could see mascara on her pillow so she guessed it would be all over her cheeks as well.

Byron lay down beside her and propped his head on his elbow. ‘You want to come with me to Thailand?’

‘What, like on a holiday – together?’

Byron wove his fingers through hers. ‘I want to show you the islands.’

‘On your boat?’

‘It’s my parents’. They’ve got a holiday house on Phuket, too. I can use it any time, but I just haven’t had any time to get there.’

‘Sounds like you’re well looked after.’

Byron shrugged. ‘You think?’

‘They bought you the car, too, didn’t they?’

Byron laughed. ‘No, that was from my match-fixing days.’

Lucy hit him with a pillow, which wasn’t a great thing to do to a guy who’d been recently assaulted with a studded clutch. Byron turned his face, but the pillow caught him on the eyebrow, reopening the gash.

‘Oh, god. I’m sorry. You’re bleeding again.’ Lucy grabbed a tissue from her bedside table. She dabbed at Byron’s eye. ‘I think you’ll need a stitch.’

‘A big breakfast and a bit of love will fix it.’

Lucy dropped her tissue and traced a line with her finger from just below the cut on his eyebrow, down his nose, then pressed her lips to his neck and kissed him all the way down his chest.

‘Hungry?’ she asked quietly.

He breathed deeply, looking into her eyes as he tilted her chin towards his face. ‘Starving.’

‘Have I got time for a shower before breakfast?’ Lucy let her eyes drift over his body, taking in the contour of every muscle as she did.

‘You’ve got all the time you need. I’m not going anywhere.’

Lucy got to her feet, peeled off her shirt, unzipped her skirt and let it drop to the floor. ‘You need another shower?’ she whispered. ‘You’ve still got a bit of blood on your face.’

Byron stood up slowly and followed her to the bathroom, so close that the heat from his body radiated against her bare back. She turned on the hot water and then glanced over her shoulder. He was standing at the doorway, waiting. Steam filled the room, fogging the mirror and obscuring Byron’s face, the air thick between them. She finished undressing and stepped under the shower, closing her eyes as the hot water soaked her hair and pounded her skin, washing away the grime – of Yu, the story, the whole night.

When she opened her eyes Byron was still by the door, watching her silently.

‘There’s room for one more.’

Byron hesitated for a moment and then dropped his towel. He slid into the shower beside her. It was a tiny space, really only made for one, but that wasn’t a problem. Byron pulled her wet body against his smooth bare skin. She watched the water tumble onto his head, washing a trickle of blood from his face, down his body and into the drain. With it seemed to go the lies, the excuses. It was like they had both been cleansed, so all that was left was Lucy and Byron – with nothing left to hide.

Another drop of blood appeared above his eye. ‘You sure you don’t need a stitch on that?’ Lucy asked.

Byron shook his head and kissed her lips.

‘A good breakfast and a bit of love is the answer?’ she smiled.

Byron shook his head again and smiled. ‘No. I’m gonna need a lot of love.’

She closed her eyes and kissed his beautiful mouth. That was definitely what she felt like she needed, too.

Lucy jumped off the back of the boat into the clear sea, adjusted her mask and then dived underwater. A school of tiny fish parted for her as she swam over the coral to Byron. She’d grown up so far from the beach that the sea was still a novelty for her – the colours, the activity – so different from swimming in the muddy Murray. She enviously watched Byron poking around a giant clam. He had a month of this – she’d only managed to wangle a long weekend. But still, it was better than nothing.

‘Race you to the beach,’ he called when they resurfaced for air. She watched as he powered towards the beach, his strong arms pulling him through the water. There was no way she was going to catch him. By the time she dragged herself out of the water, Byron was already reclining on the sand, propped on his elbows with a satisfied smile on his face.

‘You think you’re pretty clever don’t you?’ she mocked.

‘No, I think I’m unbelievably lucky.’ He got to his feet and welcomed her with a kiss. ‘How did I end up with a girl like you?’

‘I think it started with a case of mistaken identity.’

Followed by a series of lies
, she thought,
some deception, a dose of mistrust and some very risky behaviour
. Probably not the best start, but that all seemed a long time ago.

Byron took her hand and they sat together on the sand, looking out at the bay. It was a picture-perfect scene, with fishing boats, coloured ribbons rippling in the wind from their bows, lining one end of the beach, and islands of limestone pillars the only thing interrupting the view of the horizon. Lucy dug her toes into the coarse white sand, enjoying the bright sunshine. The view was amazing, but what she was really loving was the new stress-free Byron. The biggest worry for him, as far as she could tell, was where to eat dinner. The frown had gone from his forehead. He was already looking relaxed.

Byron kissed her hand. ‘I’m gonna miss you when you’re gone.’

She smiled. She’d miss him too. Next weekend would be very different – Saturday and Sunday in the newsroom, cold air-conditioning and hot camera lights, noise and deadlines. She couldn’t wait.

She’d been asked to present a new weekend show – a mix of business, news, gossip and even a bit of sport. She still couldn’t believe it was actually going to happen, and that the boss had chosen her to co-present the show. Rolly, the sports guy, would be sitting at the desk alongside her.

She wished it could be Byron sitting beside her presenting the show. But he was determined to stay out of TV. He was planning to set up something with Cal. A new website where they could set their own agenda. Cal would be arriving after she left, to work on the idea – in between fishing, snorkelling and boating.

‘I’ll miss you, too,’ she smiled, studying his tanned face. ‘You promise you won’t have so much fun here that you’ll forget to come back to Hong Kong?’

Byron lay back in the sand and pulled Lucy on top of him. He smoothed the hair off her face and kissed her. ‘Forget Hong Kong?’ Byron shrugged. ‘Maybe. But forget about coming back to you? Never.’

Counterfeit Love
published in 2014 by
Hardie Grant Egmont
Ground Floor, Building 1, 658 Church Street
Richmond, Victoria 3121, Australia
www.hardiegrantegmont.com.au

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A CiP record for this title is available from the National Library of Australia.

eISBN 9781743582374

Text copyright © Belinda Hosford

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