Her Dom's Secret Past Read online

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2018 Suzy Shearer

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-620-0

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Audrey Bobak

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  I look at you and see the rest of my life in front of my eyes.

  — (Unknown)

  The heart wants what it wants. There’s no logic to these things. You meet someone and you fall in love and that’s that.

  — Woody Allen

  HER DOM’S SECRET PAST

  Suzy Shearer

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  Anabelle

  After I’d unpacked and had a cuppa, it was finally time to do nothing more than relax. I’d come to a nice secluded private beach resort to recharge for a few weeks. The landowner had built seven luxury villas along a one and a half kilometer of beautiful beach shoreline, each villa separated by plenty of trees and shrubs. From every place it was impossible to see another, and it gave the impression of being in the middle of nowhere and all alone. Exactly what I needed. It was mid-May, Monday the fourteenth, to be exact. Two whole weeks of relaxation. When I’d signed in and collected my key, I’d been told two villas had occupants—a couple who would be leaving the next day while the only other villa in use was booked from tomorrow until my last week.

  Perfect!

  These were not the sort of cabins you’d find in a caravan park—these were the epitome of luxury. Each one as large as a two-bedroom house, fitted out with no expense spared. I’d been assured that nothing was too much trouble. The manager had confidently told me if there was anything I wanted, all I needed do was pick up the house phone and it would be delivered—twenty-four hours a day.

  In the online brochure, when I had been searching for somewhere to stay, the villas had looked lovely, but now, in real life, they were even better. Large, discretely hidden among the trees, the whole front open to the beach and a “couples or singles only” policy. I was assured the place was safe and secure. I could confidently leave the building open with no concerns of anything being stolen or of anyone entering.

  Built on the headland, and open to the general public, was also a restaurant tucked at the entrance to the complex.

  I’d parked my car in the undercover garage, gone up the stairs, and walked onto the long, wide, covered patio facing out onto the clean sands of the beach, complete with a table, chairs, sun lounges, and a barbecue. With each step, my body unwound from the tight spring I’d kept it in for over a year. While unlocking the glass front door, I discovered I could push the whole front wall of glass to one side and it folded magically away.

  The entire house was open planned with large, polished off-white floor tiles except for the bedroom and bathroom.

  A split level meant I had to go up three stairs to the kitchen, a sleek masterpiece of dark wood and light marble. A well-appointed pantry was hidden away and a big double-doored fridge was well-stocked with food. When booking, I’d been asked about my food preferences, foods liked and disliked. It meant looking into this pantry and fridge was like looking into my own. Milk, fresh meat if I ate it, and vegetables would be delivered every three days—perfect. Freshly baked breads, cakes, and pastries would be delivered daily—all I needed to do was ring in my order early in the morning.

  A beautiful fruit basket stood on the counter with three bottles of Moscato, my choice, as well as a lovely arrangement of fresh flowers. I put the Moscato in the fridge after picking a tuberose from the vase and tucking it behind my ear.

  One side of the house had sliding doors which opened onto a small tiled patio with a heated lap pool and a Jacuzzi. I’d definitely be taking advantage of them!

  Investigating further, I went up a dozen steps leading into an enormous bedroom with a king-sized bed. A thick, plush, and very soft beige carpet had me scrunching up my toes in delight. I stood with my back to the bed then flopped backward onto it, a huge grin on my face. More gifts—chocolates on the bed bounced across it as I landed on a fluffy bathrobe. The view of the beach took up the whole glass wall which could also be pushed aside. Getting to my feet, I ate one of the chocolates while I discovered another covered patio above the main living areas of the house. Close to the window, two chairs set either side of a low coffee table.

  The whole place was light and airy with high ceilings and simply reeked of opulence.

  The bathroom shone as the final jewel in the crown. Beautiful marble and gleaming glass, with an enormous shower and a free-standing bath which was set in front of a huge window. Again, the wall folded opened. Here, the glass was frosted, and if I was worried someone could see in, I could keep the glass closed. Although being on the second floor of the house, I doubted anyone could.

  The bathroom was on the corner alongside the bedroom. I could imagine myself lying back in the tub, sipping a glass of wine while watching the waves roll onto the sand or studying the wildlife in the forest alongside. The enormous shower had glass walls so I could see all the tree ferns and shrubs. I thought it would give the illusion of showering outside. Unlit candles were scattered on the benches and the sides of the tub.

  The large covered patio stretched across the front of the house, tiled with the same tiles throughout the lower levels of the house. With only four steps down, I would be able to crunch the sand under my toes. I’d certainly be sitting and reading if I didn’t feel like going down onto the beach. In my mind, these few weeks would re-invigorate me. I hoped to recharge my batteries, accept what had been happening over the past few years and move on. I intended to come back a whole new me, one who no longer cowered behind the door or who looked a people with distrust.

  I’d selected the villa on the very end because it butted up to the National Park. I’d been told each morning and evening the local wildlife came out to feed on the grass alongside. It would be wonderful to see later, but now it was time to forget the rest of the world and soak up the atmosphere. It was time to forget the past and relax.

  I changed into a pair of ragged shorts—cut-off jeans, actually, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. After tossing my shoes under a chair on the patio, I headed down to the beach and stood admiring the view for at least ten minutes. It was almost three in the afternoon and the view was spectacular. This private beach had a headland of rocks either end. As I was close to one end, I had a myriad of rock pools, as well as beach front to choose from to investigate. It delighted me to see an enormous rock at the mid-tide point attached to the long rock shelf. It was large enough for at least two dozen people to sit, and on one end it had been worn away enough to have formed a sort of backrest. It would be perfect to sit and read on, providing it didn’t get covered by the incoming tide. I’d have to check.

  Wandering down to the water’s edge, I gingerly let the gentle waves leap about my feet. It was cold but not unbearably. This year the summer in Eastern Australia had been the hottest on record and had lingered through March and April with temperatures in the high twenties and early thirties. Even now in May it was still warm, and I figured it was the reason why the water wasn’t so cold. In fact, I probably could have swam comfortably, even though this beach was on the far south coast of New South Wales.

  Wading along to the start of the rocks, I began poki
ng in rock pools while keeping one eye on the incoming tide. As I clambered about, I found a sun-heated rock pool to sit and paddle my toes in. Tomorrow, if I could remember, I’d bring my camera down and get some shots of the Tasman Sea, the waves, and the rocks, but today was all about exploring.

  I worked my way along and over the headland until I came to a high buff that blocked my way.

  I stretched and began to unwind. I needed this big time. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d truly switched off. My work had been tiring for a great many years. I was thankful I now had excellent staff and could safely leave things in their capable hands. After decades of hard work, I’d made it as a successful high-end bridal designer and dressmaker. My boutique was based in Hornsby, and my staff were generally run off their feet with all our orders.

  At last, I could pick and choose who I designed for and how much I charged. I was in demand. My business had gone from strength to strength, until now—at fifty-five, I had eight on my staff, a home, well, an apartment, actually, in Asquith, no debts, and a decent bank balance. Enough money to splurge on this holiday in such an exclusive place.

  In my mind, it was the perfect place to get away from everything and everyone.

  And one person topped the list—my stalker—Ed Baines.

  Just over a year and a half ago, I had dated Ed for maybe a month. We went out maybe three times, at the most four—and before you ask, no, I didn’t sleep with him. It didn’t take long to discover he was a manipulative, arrogant bastard, and I quickly got out of the relationship before it even got started. Unfortunately, he didn’t like the fact I said no whenever he asked me out again.

  At first it was the odd phone call or email saying ‘hello’, ‘would I like to go out for a meal’. But with each refusal, he got angrier and angrier. The next six months he stalked me in earnest.

  After the first month, I started living on my nerves, waiting, wondering when he’d do something. In the end I went to the police, but not much could be done without proof.

  Ed was interviewed but expressed surprise and sorrow that I was being subjected to stalking.

  Following the advice of the police, I changed my landline phone number and got a new number for my cell phone. Changed all my email addresses, although I did have to keep my business one.

  All those months of continual harassment had made me afraid to go out unless I had someone with me. I had become afraid of my own shadow. Afraid to answer the phone, to check my emails, to even open the door.

  I became withdrawn, rarely leaving the protection of my home. Before all of this, I’d been a confident, single woman with the world at my feet. But that all changed as I became reclusive.

  No one could understand why I was withdrawing. They thought with the threat of Ed gone, I should have been okay, and to be honest, I should have been. But I couldn’t, I couldn’t trust anymore. It was all I could do to live from day to day.

  I tried, I tried hard to push past the terror, to live again, but each time I ended up acknowledging the fear rising up to choke me. I became a loner. Only two couples stuck by me—Becky and Cass Lees, and Charlie Lyton and Justin. I had no idea what I would have done without them. They saved my sanity. They held my hand when the darkness threatened and helped me as I slowly tried to rebuild my life, my confidence. It took me almost a year, but at last I reached a point where I could see people without thinking they might hurt me. Slowly, I rebuilt my trust.

  It was Cass who suggested I get away and recharge. It was him who convinced me I was ready to take this next step. He was the reason I now breathed in the clean salty air. And as I took in that deep breath, I knew he was right.

  Clambering back over the rocks, I reached the edge of the rock shelf and watched the waves crashing against it, the salt spray invigorating.

  I couldn’t help myself, I took a deep breath and shouted, “Okay, Anabelle Rowley, it’s time to get rid of the past and grab life again.”

  Sitting down, I dangled my legs over the edge of the rocks touching the water with my toes. I knew I’d get wet but I didn’t care. I wanted the sea to cleanse me, to make me whole again. Except I didn’t expect the set of waves that followed. Within less than a heartbeat, I was soaked to the skin. After my initial shock, I started to laugh and it was good to be able to. Maybe it was the first real laugh I’d had in many months.

  After getting to my feet, I walked back to the beach, dripping. I still couldn’t wipe the grin off my face. It was as if I were a little kid. Taking a quick glance to make sure no one was around, I did a little dance on the edge of the sand, kicking and splashing the water. I was wet. I figured I may as well go the whole hog and dived in under a wave. It was cold, but as I paddled about, I was sure this was one of the best things I’d done in the last ten years.

  Finally, I thought I better get back to the villa. I’d started shivering a little and needed to put on some dry, warm clothes. Revitalized, I climbed from the water and walked up the beach. A late-afternoon chill was creeping into the air as the sun sank lower. I must have been out for a few hours. I went inside and quickly jumped into the shower after peeling off my wet clothes and throwing them into the bath. I’d chuck them into the washer later. The hot water warmed my chilly skin. I closed my eyes and raised my face, letting the water run all over my body. I washed the salt and sand from my hair then finally got out.

  Wrapping a towel around myself, I padded into the kitchen and was surprised to see it was almost four twenty-five. I went to the fridge, opened the door, and stood staring in. Wasn’t sure what I wanted to eat, but I did know I couldn’t be bothered with cooking despite the large chef cooker. Shutting the refrigerator door, I picked up the menu from the restaurant and studied their room service list.

  Mmm, yum.

  After picking up the house phone, I ordered myself a nice vegetarian lasagna with a mango salad and a Macadamia nut cheesecake to be delivered around six-thirty. After giving my villa number, I hung up, pulled on some underwear, jeans, and a long-sleeved t-shirt. I dragged a pair of fluffy socks on my feet and surveyed the outside view.

  I watched the sun sink behind the distant mountains. It had almost disappeared when the last rays hit the water, turning it golden as I stood on the patio. Although I’d only been here a few hours already, I felt different. I thought I could at last truly free myself from the past.

  ****

  The next morning, I woke early. I’d left the glass wall open and had fallen asleep watching the moonlight play on the water, snuggled under a thick warm comforter. Now the sun just crested the horizon and it was simply stunning. Orange, gold, and yellow streaks hit the wispy purple-edged clouds and bounced across the surf. The wave crests turned gold as they broke. I sat up in bed, mesmerized by the spectacle. I was sad that within ten minutes the morning show was over as the sun slowly rose higher and the day brightened. There were heavy, dark-purple clouds on the horizon and I wondered if that meant we were in for a storm later in the day.

  After getting out of bed, I dressed in a pair of three-quarter jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. In the kitchen, I studied the fridge contents and settled on mushrooms, poached eggs, and multi-grained toast for breakfast with a cup of tea. Once I had it made, I sat on the verandah to eat and watch the world go by.

  All at once, I realized I had a visitor—actually three. Right in front of the entrance were three kangaroos. I sat as quietly as I could. The receptionist had warned me these were wild ’roos and not to feed them. As long as I was careful around them, there shouldn’t be a problem. I would remember not to get between a male and any of his harem. These three were females and two had joeys in their pouches. While I watched them eating the grass, another six bounded in.

  It was obvious who the boss was. A large, well-developed male spied me and stared. I almost buckled under his in-depth gaze and his glare never wavered. The other five were two more females and three youngsters. The big boss decided a closer investigation was warranted. With one bound, he came onto the
patio then proceeded to sniff around, getting closer and closer to me all the while. I held my breath as he reached my side.

  Keeping very still, I murmured softly, “Hello there.”

  This big boy reached maybe around one and three-quarters of a meter, or six feet in the old scale, if he stood straight upright. His muscles would have made a gym junkie very envious. He put a paw on my hand as it lay on the chair arm and studied my face. Leaning forward, he sniffed me. I looked at that paw on my hand with each sharp nail as long as one of my fingers and hoped I’d pass muster. If not, he could inflict serious injuries in less than a heartbeat.

  Still keeping his paw on me, he inspected the table and spied my half-eaten breakfast. A half hop and he pinched a slice of toast. So much for not feeding them. I carefully moved the plate further onto the table—multi-grain toast I didn’t mind, but I didn’t think egg was a good idea for a kangaroo. He finished eating the toast then realized the plate was well out of his reach.

  He glared at me as if to say, “I was going to eat that,” but he sat back on his heels and turned his head to gaze across at his family. I was thankful I obviously passed the test as he casually went back out to his girls and joined them eating grass.

  It was a truly wonderful experience. I’d seen ’roos thousands of times, fed them in local zoos and animal parks, but this was the first time I’d been up close and personal with wild ones. Although I guessed they’d really be considered semi-wild. After finishing my breakfast, I watched my visitors for about a half an hour as they worked their way back into the bush.

  Getting to my feet, I said, “Okay, time to start this holiday properly.”