Heads or Tails (24 page)

‘I don’t believe it,’ Ivyanne stammered. ‘
Six weeks
?’

‘You say that as though that will make a difference of some sort,’ Tristan said quietly. ‘Are you forgetting the conversation we had last Sunday?’

Ivyanne stood up, her chair scraping against the floor. ‘Are
you
?’ she demanded hotly. ‘You’ve given me a one month window-but you have to
leave
in a month. So if I choose you, I have less than that, don’t I? Two weeks?
Three
at most? I can hardly depart for a one year honeymoon without having the wedding first-’ her flashing eyes landing on Lincoln’s and her voice stopped as suddenly as his heart had.

‘I didn’t realize you would see it that way,’ Tristan said softly. ‘But yes, I guess you’re right. Unless we wed overseas.’

‘Well…. so long as you give me the name of the gift register so my wedding present ends up in the right place!’ Lincoln thundered, getting to his feet. He had never been so blind-sided before in his life.

‘Lincoln don’t!’ Ivyanne’s hand reached for his arm, but he flung it off violently. ‘I didn’t mean it like that!’

‘Then how
did
you mean it?’ Tristan demanded.

‘Both of you leave her alone!’ Lachlan’s voice silenced them as he strode into the room, his usually happy-go-lucky grin gone. ‘Maybe the girls are getting some sort of sick thrill out of watching Ivyanne batted around like a cat toy, but I am sure as hell over it. Lincoln, untwist your knickers! You can’t erupt
every time
she reminds you that yes, she has a choice to make. And Tristan-cool it. You should have known that announcing that would have caused a scene. How about you tell her in private next time?’

Lincoln turned on his heel and stalked off as his heart broke for the umpteenth time. Lachlan was right, but Lincoln had vowed to fight for his love, and he knew that if he stayed in the room, ‘fighting’ would translate to throwing actual punches. Or screaming. And Ivyanne would bear some of his wrath-couldn’t she try a little harder to spare his feelings?

‘Bit hard, when I don’t get a chance to talk to her in private.’ Tristan muttered from his position by the door.

‘Well then don’t broach it in front of Lincoln. You’re smart-act it!’

Lincoln had made it to the front door, and was aware of the sound of bare feet chasing after him. As he opened the door, Ivyanne’s hand encircled his wrist.

‘Link come on! Don’t leave angry! I can’t handle it!’

Lincoln whirled on her. ‘You can’t handle anything! You’re like a bull in a china shop when it comes to
my
feelings, but when it comes to yours, you become a china doll!’ he snapped. ‘I’m sick of having to bite my tongue so I don’t tell you I love you, or that I hate him-and I’m sick of having to stuff my hands in my pockets because they can’t reach for you or wring his neck! You’ve blamed a lot of your iffy behavior on withdrawals, well now
I’m
filing a claim!’ He shook his head as he glared down at her, removing her hand, which seared his flesh and stole his breath as much as it always did, despite his rage. ‘I’m horny and sad and pissed off and I deserve to be! I’m going up to my room to pack and then I’m going back to Seaview, where I’m wanted. Enjoy the reef,
your highness,
because if Tristan gets his way, it might be your last chance to see it for awhile!’

With that, Lincoln strode across the lawn separating the main house from the guest house, feeling steam coming out of his ears. For the first time, he had a genuine reason to be angry with Ivyanne, and he didn’t plan on letting her beautiful face work it out of him. For once
she
could be the one to sweat.

*

Ivyanne put down the pen and shook out her aching hand, cringing, before carefully folding the letter and slipping it into it’s envelope. ‘That’s fifteen,’ she said to Saraya. ‘Have you got that seal?’

Saraya, who was sitting on the other side of the polished mahogany desk, passed the seal and the still warm wax stick to Ivyanne. ‘I’d almost forgotten how to do this,’ she confessed. ‘How bad is that? Your mum and I developed an awful e-mailing habit over those last few months on Bracken, I’m afraid. It’s kind of nice to go back to the old way.’

‘So long as I soak my hand in a bucket of ice soon, yes.’ Ivyanne heated the wax, letting the deep burgundy stuff drip onto the back of letter until there was enough for the seal. She’d preoccupied herself with writing a personal letter to the head of each Marked family, informing them about the amendments to the old laws, to distract herself from thoughts of Tristan’s latest revelation and Lincoln’s outburst. In two hours, she’d been making her way to the reef, removed from all of the drama physically, if not mentally. She just had to hang on until then.

Ivyanne pressed the seal into the wax, held it there for a moment, then removed it. It left the perfect imprint of a crown, with a replica of Ivyanne’s tattoo in the middle-the Court family symbol. She smiled at her handiwork, then blew on the wax. ‘How old is this thing anyway?’

‘Beats me.’ Saraya wiped her hands on her short denim cut-offs. ‘I think it’s from Ivy’s reign…. maybe six hundred years old? Look how brittle the wood is.’

‘Find out for me,’ Ivyanne said, fingering the cracked handle. ‘When you can. I’d like to start cataloguing all of the old heirlooms, just to know for myself.’

‘Sure.’ Saraya took the envelope from Ivyanne’s hand, to address it. ‘By the way, you’ve got an e-mail from the real estate agent. You must have missed it.’

‘Oh?’ Ivyanne had almost completely forgotten about the sale of her house. The profits of which, would go to whoever caught Ardhi. She reached for the computer and went to her mothers inbox, clicking on the link and scanning the contents quickly. ‘No offer for three point five yet,’ Ivyanne said, stopping to loop her hair into a high bun on the crown of her head and securing it with a tie on the desk. ‘Seven people have put in bids-the closest is two point two.’

‘The market sucks right now.’ Saraya agreed. ‘You may have to leave it there for awhile.’

‘Yeah. I’ll remind her that there’s no rush.’ Ivyanne went to click on the ‘Reply’ tab, when an extra paragraph at the bottom of the e-mail caught her eye.

Miss Court, you asked me to let you know if there have been any unusual people inspecting the property, so I should probably mention the young man who came in last Friday morning. He was handsome and dark, but barefoot and quite unkempt in appearance. He introduced himself as Dwayne Reynolds, and explained that he was a neighbor. But the thing is, I’ve already met Mr Dwayne Reynolds, and this was not him.
I may be overreacting, but I thought you should know anyway. If he shows up again-either of them-I will try and glean a little more information.
Sincerely, Rhonda.

Ivyanne sat back, digesting the information with shock, and feeling a prickly heat crawling up her neck. The list of handsome, unkempt and bullshitting young men who took to getting around barefoot and knew enough of the neighborhood to assume a false identity had
one
name on it:
Ardhi
. He was in the region and sniffing around.

He was coming for her.

Ivyanne flexed her muscles, all set to push her chair back and holler out to Garridan, but something made her sit herself back down before she drew the necessary breath to do it. It was the weekend. Tristan was going to Sydney, and Link was going back to The Seaview with most of the guard-but they hadn’t gone yet.

She couldn’t go to the reef
now
, she knew instantly that it was too risky, and though that was a crushing blow-it still wasn’t the worst case scenario. Because if she announced the new development to Garridan before the boys departed, she’d not only be banned from the water all weekend-but stuck with them squabbling over her once more. Probably while shirtless.

No
! She thought, feeling ill at the very idea of continued claustrophobia, or having to stare at the cute indents near the base of Lincoln’s deeply tanned spine for one more minute. It was the same with Tristan’s tattoo. Oh boy she’d lost some sleep over that! Her tongue was constantly pressed to the back of her top teeth as she imagined licking the delicate leaf patterns on his perfect body...

Ivyanne stifled a moan as her body flushed from hair roots to toenails. She couldn’t torture herself, or allow them to torture one another without granting them some respite first.

‘Are you okay Ivyanne?’ Saraya asked.

‘Um...yeah. I just realized that there’s another book I wanted to pack before I go-I might get time to read two. But I’ll finish up here first, we have time...’

‘I’ll remind you.’

‘Thanks.’ Ivyanne felt bad for lying, but knew she had no choice. If Lincoln and Tristan didn’t get some apart time soon, they’d either end up duking it out, if she didn’t beckon them both into her bedroom first- solidifying her theory that she was as monstrous as Ardhi and as weak as any human for good.

So Ardhi’s here
…. she told herself silently, allowing her limbs to fizz with terrified adrenaline at the idea of him skulking around the very neighborhood they’d once roamed together, intent on killing her now. It was a chilling concept, and it mutated any remaining fond memories she had of them as friends. Her eyes went to the window, appraising the line of hedges Tristan had ordered trimmed-now grateful for that decision. No one could hide out there-she was safe, as was Saraya-so long as they stayed out of sight.

I don’t want to know any of this. But that e-mail is almost a week old and he hasn’t shown his face yet and probably won’t-I mean, how could he find me here? Maybe he’s gone elsewhere-Norfolk or New Zealand or New Guinea even. Maybe he came to collect some things and leave forever and never intends to come back!

Ivyanne shut the e-mail program down and glanced at the clock, weighing the risks of silence versus honesty one final time before deciding on a course of action. She was completely torn between two sides of her persona-her natural born independent streak, and the honest, momma’s girl she had been bred to be.

But then she thought of Lincoln’s stricken face and the important deals that Tristan had already risked in order to spend time with her, and it wasn’t long before deception, and the will to do no further harm to the men she cared for, overruled her instinct to hide behind someone’s legs. After all, she was the most important person, right? Target number one?

The further her two lovers were from her when Garridan found this out, the safer they would be.

*

Tristan stood outside the empty restaurant where the sunlight was filtered through the trees and waited expectantly for the airline to answer the phone. His flight was scheduled to leave at one-but Pintang didn’t know that and she’d been in the restaurant for over an hour-chewing into his packing time. Once again, he’d have to reschedule to leave later in the day.

At least it gives me a few more hours with Ivyanne before I go.
He thought.
Alone.
He smiled when he thought of Lincoln’s dramatic exit that morning. That boy had massive buttons which were way too easy to push, and Ivyanne couldn’t seem to stop herself from helping him along. Now Lincoln was going back to The Seaview angry, where a cute little Gracie was waiting to flirt him out of his senses. It was perfect.

As the operators delay message repeated in his ear, Tristan noticed a slightly older man handing out leaflets to people passing by on the footpath. The guy looked up at Tristan, holding out a photocopied sheaf of paper with the words: ‘Dream Fishing Experience!’ emblazoned across the front.

‘Learn to fish like a mariner,’ the guy said, his eyes crinkling with a smile. ‘Only a hundred bucks a head.’

Tristan took the leaflet, thinking of what a waste of paper they were. ‘Thanks man, but I’m a bit of a mariner myself.’

The guys eyes looked him up and down, his expression dubious. ‘
You
fish?’

Tristan didn’t hide his smile of amusement. ‘Like I was
born
in the water.’

‘Hey Tristan!’

Tristan turned around and saw Pintang emerge from the restaurant and shut the door behind her. ‘Yeah?’

‘You may as well lock up now. I already love the place!’

Tristan tossed her the keys which she caught easily. ‘Here you go Pintang.’ He turned back to the guy. ‘Thanks, but no thanks. Good luck though.’

‘Did she say
Tristan
?’

Tristan looked back at the guy, folding the leaflet and putting it into his back pocket so he could recycle it when he got back to Ivyanne’s house. ‘Yeah. Why?’

The guy squinted at him, then shrugged. ‘Just an unusual name.’

‘Forty years ago it was, not anymore.’ Tristan joked, catching the keys as Pintang tossed them back. ‘
No
names are now.’

‘This place is so beautiful,’ Pintang through her arms around Tristan and kissed him on the cheek. ‘I love you, you know that?’

‘Yeah yeah,’ Tristan tickled her ribs. ‘Just don’t say I never buy you anything pretty.’ He waved to the guy. ‘See yah mate. Good luck.’