Munro Family: The Investigator Part 16

She bit her lip, indecision plain on her face. Slightly desperate, he played his final card.

"You wanted to talk to me, right? And you need to eat. If you come with me, you can do both." He offered another smile.

The tiniest grin tugged at her lips and the tension in her shoulders eased. "Okay, I guess. I do really need to talk to you."

Relief rushed through him and he grinned. "Good. Great. We can go in my car."

Another tiny frown appeared between her eyebrows, but she shrugged and pulled the door closed behind her. Riley walked toward his vehicle parked a short distance away and hurried to open her door. She squeezed past him, her coat sliding against his arm.

His breath caught.

Christ, what was going on? He wasn't some callow youth hoping to get to first base. What would she think of him, this woman with the movie-star looks who lived in London and had the posh accent to prove it? This woman with her ethereal beauty and air of worldly sophistication that was so at odds with the sad vulnerability he caught every now and then in her expressive eyes?

Watson's taunt rang in his ears, but he refused to dwell on it. Watson was an a.s.shole and now had zero credibility. Riley wouldn't pay credence to anything that came out of the b.a.s.t.a.r.d's mouth. Besides, Riley was proud of his heritage and the fact that he was bi-racial. His parents had raised him to know the importance of love and of family. He'd learned through their example to discount the small minority of people who wanted to belittle him for who he was and what he stood for and he'd grown up determined not to give them any power over him.

His father was the first aboriginal to be appointed a judge in the New South Wales District Court...and he was Riley's inspiration. His father gave him the courage to stand tall and take charge of his own destiny. Who he became and what he made of his life had nothing to do with narrow-minded att.i.tudes or the color of his skin.

Closing the pa.s.senger door, he moved to the driver's side and climbed in. Kate glanced across at him, a nervous half-smile hovering on her lips. Excitement and antic.i.p.ation surged through him. He gave her his full-wattage grin before switching on the ignition and heading into the quiet night.

The Monday night crowd that mingled in the heated comfort of The Bullet was smaller than it had been on Kate's first visit. Another country tune played on the jukebox, its volume pitched low. She followed Riley as he wended his way through the mostly vacant tables until he found one tucked into a darkened corner at the back.

Sliding into the booth opposite him, she lowered her handbag to the floor and tried to stem the b.u.t.terflies in her belly. He smiled across at her and her stomach flip-flopped, just like it had when he'd done it outside the motel.

He was so s.e.xy he took her breath away. But it wasn't just that. She'd met scores of s.e.xy men in Europe. None of them had made her heart palpitate this way. None of them had made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

The attraction had as much to do with his old-fas.h.i.+oned manners and the depth of emotion and character she sometimes caught in his dark brown eyes; eyes that revealed a keen intelligence, kindness, concern, understanding, and something else. Something that made her feel that if he could see her deepest, darkest secrets, he'd still look at her and want her.

An almost unbearable urge to tell him the truth about everything surged through her: to tell him about her past; to tell him about Watson; to tell him about her mother. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Well, aren't you two looking cozy? What can I get for you? Wait a minute, a chardonnay and a beer, right?"

Kate closed her mouth so abruptly her teeth clicked together. She turned toward the barmaid and sent up a silent prayer of thanks for Sonia's timely interruption. G.o.d, what had she been thinking?

"Sounds good," Riley replied, flas.h.i.+ng the girl a friendly smile. He turned to Kate. "Is that all right with you?"

She swallowed and managed, "Yes, a chardonnay would be fine. Thank you."

Sonia's gaze remained on Riley, her voice clipped, but polite. "Would you like to see the menu? Kitchen closes at eight."

"Yes, thanks."

Sonia walked away. Riley's heated gaze pinned Kate to her seat. "I'm starving," he murmured, his voice heavy with innuendo. "How about you?"

Long seconds pa.s.sed. Breathing became optional. She dragged her gaze from Riley's and tried to still her racing heart. A minute later, Sonia returned with two menus.

"Here you go. The special tonight's lamb curry stew and fresh rolls."

Kate's mouth watered.

"Sounds great," Riley said, handing his menu back to Sonia without looking at it.

"Make that two," Kate added.

Sonia scribbled on her pad and then collected the other menu. "It shouldn't be long. Chef wants to make it home before the snow."

"Snow?" Riley raised an eyebrow. "I didn't realize snow fell this far north."

Sonia nodded, dark curls bouncing around her face. "Well, they're not making any promises-you know how these weathermen are-but there's talk we'll see the first fall tonight."

Kate tried to suppress the shudder that rippled through her. She'd always dreaded winter, the season when night arrived too early and stayed way too long. She'd learned the hard way that safety came only with the daylight.

Sonia wandered away. Riley frowned at her. "What's wrong?"

His expression was soft, caring, kind. Things she craved but couldn't have. Tears threatened at the back of her eyes. She bit her lip and willed them away.

Her fingers seized on the bright red napkin on the table in front of her. Without conscious thought, she folded and unfolded it over and over until Riley's warm, strong hand closed over hers.

"Kate, talk to me. Please."

There it was again. The tone, the gaze, the genuine interest and unexpected kindness. She weakened. Something tore loose from deep inside her and she shuddered again.

She took a ragged breath and eased it out, but her courage failed her. "I guess I just don't like snow," she whispered.

He said nothing, but his eyes darkened-impatience and disappointment evident in their depths. A deep weariness seeped into her bones. She was tired, so tired, of having to be strong, of having to hide her pain and her fear. The urge to confide in him, to share her burden, even for a short time, was overwhelming. The words spilled over.

"I-I didn't have the best of childhoods. In fact, there wasn't much of my childhood I didn't despise."

He didn't flinch. He didn't even move. Just his eyes-they flooded with compa.s.sion and understanding. She could drown in them.

"You're not alone there. I remember many a night crawling under my covers and crying myself to sleep."

His admission surprised her. She shook her head, confusion warring with warmth deep inside her as she absorbed what he'd said. What he'd shared.

"What were you crying about?"

Riley glanced away and she felt oddly bereft with the loss of eye contact. She willed him to look at her again, and when he did, she tensed at the hurt she saw.

He picked up her napkin and smoothed it out. "I was the only bi-racial student in school," he said finally, his voice low, as if the memories still had the power to affect him. "Actually, that's not entirely correct. I was the only one who looked different. I have several brothers and sisters, but they took after my white mother. I took after my father. He's a full-blooded aboriginal."

Kate shook her head, astonished by his admission. "But you're gorgeous," she blurted, unable to fathom how this good-looking man could ever have felt insecure. "You have amazing skin. And eyes. And your body..."

A flush stained his cheeks and he looked away. "Thanks, I'm glad you think so. My parents made sure we all grew up with a healthy self-esteem, but when you're eight and are the object of someone else's cruel prejudice, it takes a little effort to ignore."

"Your parents must be amazing people. I can't imagine what it must have been like to experience the bigotry of such narrow-minded individuals, but look at the man you've become?" she said, amazed at her boldness.

His flush deepened, but she was determined to continue. "You're a detective who's worked hard to get where he is. You haven't let life knock you back. You've met all the roadblocks head on and I bet you haven't once run away."

A shadow pa.s.sed over his face but was quickly gone. His lips tugged upwards, an amused expression replacing the somber one of a moment before. "How can you say all that? You barely know me."

Kate stared at him. "I know it. From the moment I met you, I knew you were the one who would help me-even when you p.i.s.sed me off." She allowed a small smile. "I saw straight away you were bi-racial. I don't have to be Einstein to understand that you've probably felt you had to work at everything just that little bit harder to succeed. I don't mean to trivialize but it's probably like being a woman in some ways. I knew you were the one to do the job. You were exactly what I needed. Someone used to going the extra mile."

"You called me lazy." His eyes challenged her, the heat in them making her heart skip a beat.

"I was angry. I was desperate and I was beginning to think you wouldn't help me, despite my initial impressions."

He leaned forward, his elbows on the table. "I thought you were a stuck-up, spoiled brat."

He'd moved close. So close, she could smell the familiar fresh woodsy scent he exuded. Each time, it tantalized her and played havoc with her pulse. A thousand golden b.u.t.terfly wings flapped against the wall of her belly.

"You used the past tense," she whispered.

His eyes flared in the dimness. "Yes."

Her eyes locked with his. Her heart broke away from its constraints and galloped against her chest. The heat from his chocolate brown eyes drew her in, closer and closer. Deeper and deeper.

"Here we go, two lamb stews, and rolls on the side. And here are your drinks."

Sonia set the food and drinks down in front of them. Kate's mind scrambled for purchase. The delicious aroma of meat and vegetables wafted toward her, making her stomach growl.

After the last few minutes with Riley, she hadn't thought she'd be able to swallow a bite, but the tempting smells of the dish proved hard to resist. Picking up her spoon, she sampled the stew and sighed in rapture.

"Mm, this is to die for, and I mean that in the best possible way."

Riley grinned. "Well, maybe not to die for, but it is pretty good."

Kate smiled around a mouthful of food. "Hey, if you'd been living on microwave dinners, this stew would have you ready to end it all."

He frowned. "Microwave dinners? You've been here over a week. Surely you've eaten something more substantial than that?"

She shook her head and took another mouthful.

"How come?"

She shrugged and kept her gaze fastened on her bowl. "I didn't feel like socializing."

He remained silent. After a few moments, she snuck a peek at him and saw understanding in his eyes.

She didn't need to say anything else. He got it. Mixing with the locals would mean she had to answer questions-questions with answers that had been buried years ago, along with her childhood.

"Now I feel bad for making you mad at me the last time we were here. I derailed your first decent meal in Watervale since your return."

She shrugged again, not wanting to dwell on the reasons they'd hadn't parted amicably. "Tell me about your family."

Riley swallowed a mouthful of food. Picking up his napkin, he wiped his mouth then scrunched the red cloth into a ball before dropping it back on the table.

"My family..." A wry smile tilted his lips. "Are you sure you want to hear this?"

Kate nodded and broke off a piece of still-warm roll. "Yes, I do."

Pus.h.i.+ng away from the table, Riley leaned against the back of the wooden bench seat and laced his fingers across his stomach.

"My family. Well, as you already know, my father's aboriginal. The Honorable Duncan Munro was the first aboriginal judge appointed to the District Court in New South Wales."

Kate's eyebrows rose. "Wow!"

Pride glowed in his face. "Yeah, it is wow. He's still sitting on the bench at Grafton."

"Was that where you were born?"

"Yeah, all seven of us."

"Seven?"

Riley grinned. "Yeah, I have a lot of brothers and sisters."

"How many of each?"

"Two sisters and four brothers. One of my brothers is my twin."

She shook her head, her smile wide. "You have a twin? How fabulous."

"It would have been better if we'd been identical. We could really have had some fun."

"Are you close?" she asked.

"Yeah, we're close. We all are. I usually hear from some member of the family at least once or twice a week."

Yearning flooded her and thoughts of her own lonely childhood weighed heavily. "They sound wonderful," she murmured wistfully.

"You wouldn't say that if you knew them. Sometimes they're a right nuisance, a pain in the neck, especially when my sisters weigh into an argument. They're always so right."

Kate couldn't hold back her smile. "I can't speak for sisters, but as a woman-well, it's because we usually are."

Riley's eyes glinted teasingly. "You women, you're all the same."

"So, tell me about your sisters."

"Chanel's the baby of the family. She's seven years younger than me."

"So that makes her how old?"

Riley s.h.i.+fted in his seat. "Um, early twenties, I suppose."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Shy about your age, Detective?"

He raised a single eyebrow and something fluttered in her belly.