Why Resist a Rebel - By Leah Ashton Page 0,42

red carry-on suitcase.

Then minutes later she was sitting beside him in the back seat of Dev’s four-wheel drive, zipping along as Graeme drove them to the airport. And to the mysterious party beyond.

The luxurious Cessna took less than an hour to cover the four hundred and fifty kilometres between the single-runway Lucyville airport—the home of the local aero-club and certainly no commercial airlines or chartered jets—and the private terminal adjacent to Sydney International airport.

Unsurprisingly, Ruby had asked a lot of questions in the drive to the Lucyville airport. Dev had responded carefully with as few words as possible:

Whose party is it? Ros.

And she was? A friend. He’d managed to say this more confidently this time—regardless, Ruby had still raised an eyebrow.

How many people could be there? Fifty? He had no idea.

Where was it? Her house.

Why don’t you want to go alone?

To this, he’d simply shrugged, and by then they’d arrived at the small strip of tarmac amongst the patchwork paddocks—and there was no more time for questions.

Take-off was taken up with a safety demonstration by their stewardess, plus a bit of oohing and aahing by Ruby over their plush leather seats that faced each other and the glossy cabinetry in the little food and beverage galley behind the cockpit.

‘This is completely awesome,’ she’d said at the time. Dev agreed—money made life a lot easier and, at times like this, a lot more fun.

Fortunately, in this instance, it also distracted Ruby from her quest to discover exactly where they were going.

During the short flight she was ensconced in the jet’s tiny bathroom, courtesy of his explanation that they would need to drive direct from the airport to the party. This had earned him yet another glare, and then later another—from freshly made-up eyes—as she’d buckled up next to him for landing, plucking at the fabric of her jeans.

‘I really didn’t have anything suitable to wear.’

‘You look fantastic,’ he’d said—sincerely—running his gaze over her brown leather heeled boots, dark blue jeans, creamish camisole and navy blue velvet blazer.

She’d just rolled her eyes. Which—again—she’d repeated when he’d quickly changed on arrival in Sydney.

‘Two minutes to look like that? Really?’

But she’d smiled, and he’d been stupidly pleased that she’d approved of how he looked.

Now they sat in the back seat of another black four-wheel drive, this time with a new driver, Graeme having been left a little flabbergasted back in Lucyville. But then, he couldn’t do much given Dev hadn’t booked him onto the flight.

Which hadn’t been a difficult decision. No doubt he’d hear all about it from Veronica—sooner rather than later. But right now, it was all about tonight.

Ruby made a few attempts at conversation, but all fell flat. Instead Dev found himself staring at nothing out of the window, Sydney passing him by in a multicoloured blur of lights. As their destination became closer, even the lights failed to register as his eyes completely unfocused.

Then he didn’t know what he was looking at, or thinking about. Nothing he told himself, but of course he wasn’t.

Snatches of voices, bursts of laughter, moments of anger, conspiratorial giggles. Memories. None fully formed, more a collage, a show-reel of moments in time. All set in one place, at one house—at one home.

When the driver pulled into the familiar ornate gates, Dev waited for the crunch of flawlessly raked gravel—but there was none. The tyres rolled across a driveway that had been paved perfectly smooth some time in the past fourteen years.

The driver expertly negotiated the cars parked along the semi-circular curve, pulling to a stop directly before the tiered garden steps that led to the front door.

Ruby opened her own door, stepping out of the car almost the moment the car rolled to a stop. Hands on hips, she stood, surveying the house, the gardens—and the guests who flowed around them, walking up from the street in couples and groups.

Dev sent the driver on his way and joined Ruby, watching her watch what was happening around her.

Up until this moment she’d displayed not one hint of nervousness about the evening. Yes, she’d been a little bothered about the lack of time to prepare, and had sighed loudly at his halfway answers to her questions. That she was frustrated with him, there was no doubt.

But otherwise she’d been typically no-nonsense Ruby. Just as she was on set, she’d been calm, and focused. He’d almost been able to read her thoughts: It’s just a party. No big deal.

Now they were here, however, he could see sudden tension in