Driving Her Crazy (3 page)

‘I don’t feel the need,’ she dismissed irritably. ‘It’s just, you know...conversational. Polite.’

Kent shoved the camera back in its soft-sided bag. ‘I can handle rude.’

That she could believe. But she doubted she could. ‘So...we’re just going to...not talk? For three thousand kilometres?’

‘Well, I’m sure we’ll need to say the odd word or two. Like, “
We need petrol
,” and, “
How about here for lunch
?” But let’s try and keep it to a minimum, huh?’

Sadie blinked at his hard profile. His arrogance that she’d just fall in with his imperious command irked. He might be used to women falling over themselves to do as he said, but she just wasn’t built that way.

And his insistence on silence only piqued her curiosity. The shadows in his eyes told her there was stuff he didn’t want to talk about. And she was pretty sure his refusal to fly was just scratching the surface. Just looking at his guarded exterior made her want to know more.

She wanted to ask about the picture. She wanted to know about that day.

Probably best not to start there though...

She waited a few minutes to lull him into a false sense of security. They were heading for Mudgee on a relatively straight stretch of highway, the scenery fairly standard Australian bush fare. Lots of gums and low, scrubby vegetation.

Fairly uninspiring really.

Especially compared to the story she knew he must be harbouring deep down where the shadows lived.

He’d just opened the map when she said, ‘It could be fun.’ She waited a beat. ‘Getting to know each other.’

Kent didn’t look up from the map. ‘I doubt it.’

He already knew too much about her. Curves that wouldn’t quit. A mouth that was made to be kissed. A weak constitution and a penchant for five-star living.

Trouble.

A real pain in his butt.

Sadie took his blunt rejection on the chin and was pleased she didn’t insult easily. Nor did she dissuade. ‘Oh, come on,’ Sadie goaded. ‘It’s really easy when you try. See, I ask something about you. We discuss it. Then you ask something about me.’

He kept his nose in the map and Sadie felt a peculiar desperation. Why, she wasn’t sure.

‘Easy,’ she added as the silence built.

It built some more.

‘Oh, come on, there must be something you want to know about me.’

Kent looked up at her, regarding her steadily. She’d obviously been to the terrier school of journalism.

Excellent. Chatty and dogged.

Two more black marks.

He suddenly remembered wondering yesterday why Leonard Pinto had requested a rookie journo for his feature.

‘Why did Leonard Pinto want you?’

Sadie almost choked on her own spit as the question caught her unawares. She certainly hadn’t been prepared for his first question to skip so much of the preliminary stuff that was the norm in these situations. Where were you born? How old are you? Where’d you go to school?

Or even the ruder ones that people tended to just come straight out and ask her no matter how inappropriate.

Is that your real name?

Are those your real boobs?

Do you have silicone in those lips?

‘Jeez,’ she said lightly, letting her sarcastic nature run free. ‘Cutting straight to the chase. No name, rank and serial number? No opening pleasantries? I hope you’re more subtle than this on dates.’

Kent raised his eyebrows at her deliberate sidestep, but he hadn’t missed the whitening of her knuckles on the steering wheel.

‘I’m rusty.’

Sadie snorted. The man looked utterly well oiled. In one hundred per cent working order. Even his limp didn’t seem to impede him. ‘You don’t say?’

Kent watched her for a moment or two as she kept her gaze firmly on the road ahead. Her profile was as striking as the rest of her, from her wavy hair to her pouty lips to the thrust of her breasts.

And he really, really didn’t want to be noticing her breasts. ‘Why does Pinto want you?’ he repeated.

Sadie flicked a quick glance his way. ‘Why don’t you fly?’

Kent blinked. He hadn’t expected her to push back so quickly. Or for her salvo to hit its target quite so effectively. ‘Is he a relative?’ he persisted.

Sadie didn’t even let a beat go by. ‘Is it because of the chopper accident?’ she replied.

Kent narrowed his gaze as he looked at her and she turned and shot him a
two-can-play-at-this-game
look before returning her attention to the road. ‘Or maybe he saw your picture on the magazine website and just wants to get into your pants?’ he parried.

It might only be a head shot, but a man who painted nudes for a living had to appreciate the perfect pout of that mouth.

The air in Sadie’s lungs stuttered to a halt as she forgot to breathe in for a few seconds. Her fingers tightened on the steering wheel. She wasn’t about to tell him that Leonard Pinto had been in her pants plenty.

And that there was no way he’d want to go there again. Not with her carrying so much weight.

‘You’re right,’ she said, slamming the car into a lower gear as she slowed for some roadworks. ‘Silence
is
golden.’

Kent shot her a sardonic smile. ‘I knew you’d see it my way.’

Half
an hour later Sadie was pretty bored with the scenery. Kent had the buds of his MP3 player in his ears and was intermittently flipping through a travel book or gazing out at the scenery flashing by. Occasionally she could see those fascinating lips moving—presumably to the music she couldn’t hear.

Or he hadn’t taken his meds today.

He sure hadn’t taken his chatty pill.

He seemed to be having a little party for one in his seat—perfectly content—and it irritated her. If he seriously thought he could ignore her for three thousand kilometres, then he truly did need those meds.

It should have been refreshing to be ignored by a man for a change. But it was strangely off-putting. Attention she could deal with. She could deflect. But inattention, lack of interest even, that wasn’t in her repertoire.

She was going to get him talking if it killed her.

She reached across and yanked on the closest ear bud. ‘How about a game, instead?’ she suggested as he fixed her with a steady glare.

Kent waited a beat of two before replying.
She wanted to play games?
He notched up another black mark as he held out his hand for the bud. ‘No.’

‘Come on,’ she cajoled undeterred. ‘This is supposed to be a road trip, right? You play games on road trips. It’s in all the movies.’

Kent refused to think about the kind of games he could play with Sadie Bliss. He was not going to think about strip anything. He wasn’t going there. ‘I don’t do games,’ he said bluntly as he relieved her of his ear bud.

She quirked an eyebrow. ‘What, not even I Spy?’

Kent regarded her for a moment, all perky and pushy. He needed to nip that in the bud or this trip was going to be interminable. ‘How about truth or dare?’

Sadie’s pulse spiked at the silky note in his voice and the way his gaze seemed to flick, ever so briefly, to her mouth. It was tempting but she doubted he’d go for truth. And she was damned if she was going to dare this man to do anything.

‘Maybe once we’ve got to know each other a little better?’ she retreated.

Kent pulled his gaze away from her, startled at the thought. He didn’t want to know Sadie Bliss. A sign flashed by and he grabbed a mental hold. ‘I spy with my little eye,’ he said, ‘something beginning with petrol station.’

Sadie kept her eyes firmly on the indicated services ahead. She scrunched her brow. ‘You know you’re only supposed to say the first letter, right?’

He ignored her sarcasm. ‘Pull in, I’m starving. Breakfast seems a very long time ago.’

Sadie had been starving for the last three days. ‘We’ve only been in the car for three hours,’ she pointed out.

‘I need snacks,’ he said. ‘And you can use the facilities.’

‘Gee, thanks,’ Sadie said rolling her eyes as she indicated left. ‘But my days of enforced toileting ended a long, long time ago. You may have women in your life with weak bladders but, I can assure you, mine is made of cast iron.’

‘So it’s just your stomach that’s weak?’ he enquired drily.

Sadie shot him a look as she prepared to park. ‘Really? You want to annoy me now? As I’m parking
your
tank in this itty-bitty car space?’

Kent assessed the one remaining, very narrow car space. She made a good point. ‘Nope.’

Sadie turned back to the job at hand as she nervously pulled the car into the middle of three parking bays. The heavy steering was fine for wide open spaces but it felt as if she was trying to grapple a huge metallic beast into a matchbox as she centred the vehicle.

It was gratifying to get a grunt of respect from Kent.

He flung his door open as soon as she killed the engine. ‘You coming?’

Sadie shook her head. ‘I’m good.’

‘You want something?’

She shook it again. ‘I brought some snacks with me.’

Sadie watched him stride to the sliding doors of the service station, pleased to be released from his company for a few minutes. His jeans gently hugged his bottom and the backs of his thighs without being skin tight. His T-shirt was loose enough for the breeze to blow it against the broad contours of his back. And his limp, barely discernible, added an extra edge to his rugged appeal.

A blonde woman with a baby on her hip coming out of the sliding door as Kent went in actually stood for a moment admiring the view. She seemed perplexed for a second after the closing glass doors snatched him away. As if she couldn’t remember why she was standing in the car park gawping at a closed door.

I hear ya, honey.

He was back in a few minutes loaded down with enough carbohydrates to exceed his recommended daily intake from now until the end of his days. She felt hyperglycaemic just looking at them.

‘Here,’ he said as he passed her a packet of Twisties. ‘I got one for you, too.’

Twisties? Dear God, he was going to eat Twisties—her one weakness—right in front of her. She passed them back.

‘Thanks, I’ve got these,’ she said, waving a celery stick at him.

Kent grimaced as he opened his packet. ‘You’re going to eat
celery
? On a road trip.’

He had a way of emphasising celery as if it were suet or tripe. ‘It’s healthy,’ she said defensively, and was about to launch into a spiel about the amazing properties of the wonder food when the aroma of carbohydrates wafted out to greet her like an old friend and she momentarily lost her train of thought.

How could that special blend of additives and preservatives smell so damn good? Her stomach growled.

Loudly.

Kent raised an eyebrow. ‘I think your stomach wants a say.’

Sadie stuffed the celery into her mouth and started the car to stop her from reaching over and lifting a lurid orange piece out and devouring it like the Cookie Monster. ‘It’s because I listen to my stomach too damn often that I’m as big as I am,’ she muttered testily as she reversed.

Kent eyed her critically as he buckled up, thinking she looked pretty damn good to him. He shook his head. Women in the western world amazed him. Their lives were so privileged they had nothing but trivialities to worry about. He really didn’t have the patience for it.

‘Please tell me you’re not going to eat celery for three days.’

Sadie gave him an exasperated glare. ‘What’s it matter to you?’

He bugged his eyes at her. To think less than two years ago he had been in the thick of a combat zone and now he was talking to a madwoman with a weak constitution but an apparently strong bladder about
celery
of all things.

‘I think it’s making you cranky.’

Sadie flicked her gaze to the road, then back at him. He had orange Twistie dust on the tips of his fingers and his lips, which just went to show perfection could be improved upon. She wondered what he’d taste like beneath the flavours of salt and cheese.

Her stomach growled again and she started to salivate.

And not for celery.

Maybe not even for Twisties.

‘No,’ she denied, looking back to the road. ‘You and your damn Twisties are making me cranky.’

‘I guess that means you won’t want any M&M’s either?’ he enquired.

Sadie almost groaned out loud. How on earth did he keep in such magnificent shape? She could feel the fat cells on her butt multiplying just by looking at the familiar chocolate snacks.

‘Thank you,’ she denied primly. ‘I’ll stick with my celery.’

Kent shrugged. ‘Suit yourself,’ he said as he threw a Twistie into the air near his face and caught it in his mouth.

The crunch thankfully drowned out another resounding growl from her belly.

By
the time they’d crossed the state border and arrived in Cunnamulla, Sadie was definitely ready to call it a day. She was tired and over her strong, silent travelling companion, who had snacked all day, read, slept, listened to music and devoured two pies and a large carton of iced-coffee for lunch, whilst disparaging her pumpkin and feta salad with a Diet Coke.

All with only the barest minimum of conversation.

She wanted a shower. Then a bed.

The welcome glow of a vacancy sign cheered her enormously. ‘This okay?’ she asked him.

Kent nodded. ‘As good as any, I guess.’

Sadie parked the car in front of the reception and she and Kent went inside, the night air already starting to cool.

‘Two rooms, please,’ Sadie said to the middle-aged woman behind the desk.

‘I’m sorry, we only have one left,’ she apologised.

‘Oh,’ Sadie murmured, her shoulders sagging.

The woman looked from Sadie to Kent, then back to Sadie, and brightened. ‘It has two doubles, though?’

Kent opened his mouth to tell the woman they’d go elsewhere but Sadie, standing tall again, butted in. ‘We’ll take it.’

He blinked at her. ‘I’m sure there are other hotels here that will have two separate rooms,’ he said to her.

‘I’m sure there are,’ Sadie agreed wearily. ‘And if you want to go and track them down I’ll wish you luck. But I’m exhausted. My butt is numb. The thought of getting back in the car again makes me want to cry. So I’m going to stay right here, if it’s all the same to you.’