Melissa James - Who Do You Trust?

The dream of forever love had stumbled when Mitch left her, then died during her marriage to Tim.

“Yes, Dad,” Luke said softly.

Lissa’s eyes snapped open to see Mitch mock-slap Luke’s bottom. “Then off you go, matey, and have fun. Mum will make sure I don’t leave—won’t you, Mum?”

Neatly boxed into a corner, she could only nod; but she couldn’t hold on to the anger when she saw the soft light filling Luke’s dark eyes. The first sign of healing, with the security he so desperately needed. Someone to call his own. A family.

Like father like son.

Within a minute all three kids dashed past on their way to the pool. “Take clean towels,” she yelled, knowing that, as usual, she’d have to bring them out later.

Mitch stood watching her in silence.

She turned and washed the coffee cups, wishing Mitch’s plan wasn’t so damned perfect for everyone except her—or Jenny, who still dreamed of her daddy coming back to live with them forever.

Another dream she could never make come true.

You’re so perfect I feel like slime for even thinking about leaving you, Lissa, but I have to get away…

Would she always make everyone she cared for so unhappy? No matter how hard she tried, it wasn’t enough. She wasn’t enough—except for housecleaning or minding kids, that is.

Melissa the perfect daughter, giving up dreams of university to help her parents run the farm when her sister Alice took off for Sydney with Brad. Melissa the picture-perfect wife, allowing Tim to open his gym while she worked at the local store to pay the bills. Melissa the wonderful mother. Melissa, the woman everyone in town loved and admired, so loving and giving. Hiding secrets beneath. Pushing the darkness down deep inside.

Melissa the dream slayer.

“It’s all right, Lissa. I’m not going to jump on you.”

Startled, she whirled around to find Mitch watching her, his face shuttered and cold. “Wh-what?”

“You’re right. Changes happen, even in Breckerville.” He shrugged as if he didn’t care, but the twist to his lips and flatness in his eyes told her he cared like hell. “You’re not the girl I knew if you get so damn angry about a stupid pizza or that I wanted a family celebration to let the kids know I’m thrilled to be back with them. If your eyes turn to ice because I ask you to reassure my scared and damaged kid I’ll still be around in half an hour. God, Lissa, do you think I’m so bloody desperate to have you I’d blackmail you into marrying me through the kids?”

She felt a rising wave of color slap into her face. “Not me. I don’t flatter myself that it’s me you want. Just the family you always dreamed of. Good old reliable Lissa will take my kids—and me. It’s not like she’s got anyone else who wants her!” Then she gasped when she realized what she’d said. Darn it, did she always have to make an idiot of herself with men? Her runaway mouth, saying things she shouldn’t think or feel—

Then Mitch riled her with his quiet “Is that what you think? Is that what you believe, Lissa? That I don’t want you?”

On the defensive, it was her turn to shrug. “Oh, sure. For cooking. For cleaning. To be there for your kids. Sure you want me. I get the picture.”

She nearly fell over when he burst into huge gusts of hard-edged laughter. “That’s so bloody funny,” he gasped. “Uh-huh. I don’t want you. I don’t want you!”

He almost doubled over he was laughing so hard.

Tears sprang to her eyes. She turned away, determined not to dash at her face until she was alone. “I said I get the picture. You don’t have to laugh at the idea of wanting me! Is it so hard to believe any man could look at me?”

But at her dramatic intensity, he only laughed harder. “Hard to believe—oh sheesh, this is a farce!” Then as she tried to stalk past him he reached out, grabbing her, halting her stormy exit. “Oh, no, you don’t, Miller. You’re not cheating me of the chance to—”

She struggled against him, terrified of making a complete twit of herself by breaking down. “To what? Humiliate me some more? News flash, McCluskey—I don’t do humiliation. I don’t go in for the masochistic side of S&M. Go find another sucker, you—you loser!” she yelled, coining Matt’s favorite expression, trying to pull herself free from his hand.

“News flash, Miller—I might be a loser, but the only sadism—no, masochism—I’ve indulged in in the past seventeen years has been staying away from you!” But far from angry, his eyes were bright with fun—the sweet cascade of happiness only Mitch showed so simply and clearly. She hadn’t seen it in so long she ached just watching him. Wishing she could feel what she saw in his eyes. He was having a great ol’ time, teasing her, riling her.

But she wasn’t in the mood for games; his light, mocking attitude sparked a fury inside she hadn’t known she was capable of. “So why did you do it? Why did you stay away from me so long?” she shouted, driven past endurance.

“Damned if I know.” He grinned wider and pulled her against him, close, so close she could feel— “So come here and end my misery, will ya?”

She gasped and wiggled, shocked and scared and thrilled by the discovery she’d made: a hard bulge nudging her through his jeans. Was that really—? Could he be—? “Don’t order me around, McCluskey,” she said, but it was little more than a breathless rush of sound. “I’ll be damned if I—”

“Lissa, honey, I’ve waited for this moment for seventeen years. Can we fight later? For now, just shut up and kiss me.”

She stared up at him, her lips parted in numb surprise. He sighed again, but it was a soft, sexy sound; the whispering sound lovers make in the night. “Okay, I’ll forgive you, but just this once.” He bent to her, touching her mouth with his tongue.

Then he groaned with that first touch—with the gentle moan, the shudder of need Lissa could no longer help or hide. She wanted him so badly, oh, how she needed this to be real….

And then he shuddered. “Lissa, oh, Lissa, I can’t wait anymore.”

And finally, at long last, her sweetest girlhood fantasy came to life: Mitch McCluskey, her first and secret love, the man whose shadowy form still came to her bed in the darkness of her dreams, held her in his arms, not as a friend, but a lover. Caressing her skin. Touching her hair. Lifting her face—

And he kissed her.

“I’m in.” The tired man hunched over the computer tapped the keys one final time, and, like magic, the database opened to his bleary eyes. After a few more minutes of searching, he spoke to the other man, young and intense, standing in the shadows of deep night behind him. “Yeah, Damon, you were right. It’s your boy.”

“You’re sure?” The young man’s eyes blazed, as bright as the other’s were weary; but then, he’d woken the former data operator at 2:00 am. Lucky he had a liking for money and a grudge against the Air Force for dishonorable dismissal. “Confirm it’s Squadron Leader Mitchell McCluskey of the Royal Australian Air Force?”

The long-haired hacker, as slovenly and unkempt now as he’d once been clean-cut and meticulous, punched more keys. “Here’s the list of his career. It’s Ex-Squadron Leader McCluskey now. He quit a couple of years ago.”

The younger man started. “What? He left the force two years ago?” He frowned and paced the room. “Then why the hell was he in Tumah-ra on recon? Why would the brass let a civilian check out a war zone? Something’s not right—something stinks in all this.” He chewed the inside of his lip, looking thoughtful. “Or was he there without orders—without official orders?”

The hacker shrugged. “Final mission or something? A Joan Sutherland command performance for the brass? I dunno. I’m just a computer geek. Anyway, it’s the guy you’re after. He brought the kid in illegally all right. Here’s the printout from DIMA. Careful with them. It’s classified.” He tossed the sheets over.