Part 1 (1/2)

Hide Your Heart.

Far North.

Tracey Alvarez.

For Toni...my best friend in 'Bounty Bay.'

You've always had my back and cheered me on.

Thank you. Love you, hun. xx.

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Chapter 1.

Lauren Taylor smacked the steering wheel. ”Right. It'd better work this time, or I'll kick the b.u.mper so hard it'll pop out the exhaust pipe.”

Giggles erupted from the pa.s.senger seat and she shot her four-year-old son, Drew, a weary smile. Her station wagon had skidded off the gravel road in the rain, and the front wheels were wedged in a muddy ditch. After stuffing branches under the tires for traction, Lauren had returned to the driver's seat cold, wet and gritting her teeth at her own stupidity. Raised in New Zealand's subtropical Far North, she knew better than to trust the unpredictable summer weather.

She turned the ignition key, and the engine coughed to life. ”Please, please work this time.”

Remembering Todd's instructions, Lauren trod on the clutch and slotted the gearstick into reverse. ”C'mon, old girl, you can do it.”

The steady pressure on the gas pedal as she teased the clutch pulled the car backward over the branches in jerky hops. Mud-slicked tires. .h.i.t another slippery patch, and one wheel rotated with a high-pitched hum. Lauren kept her foot down, as if sheer will alone could drag them from the ditch. Black smoke poured from the tail pipe. The motor stalled, the station wagon sliding back into the thick mud.

She leaned her head against the seat. Tears p.r.i.c.kled in the corners of her eyes.

Drew patted her arm. ”Don't cry, Mummy. We can stay in the car tonight and have a 'venture. I'll be okay without my nightlight.” His voice quavered on the last word.

Ever since they'd fled their Manhattan apartment two years ago, Drew needed his nightlight to keep the multi-limbed monsters in his head at bay. But better his imaginary monsters than the one on two legs who still stalked Lauren's nightmares.

She squeezed her son's hand. ”Don't worry. It'll take more than mud to stop me from tucking you up in bed tonight.”

Java jumped over the stack of luggage in the back seat, and a warm tongue licked the back of her neck.

”Back you go, boy.” Lauren pushed the dog's black and tan head away from her shoulder.

Java whined but returned to the rear of the car.

Lauren ruffled the spill of dark curls across Drew's forehead and undid his safety belt. ”Mummy'll get out again and have another go. Taylors never give up the fight, do they?”

Drew shook his head and grinned. ”Never, ever.”

No. Never, ever again. ”I won't be long.”

Rain pounded the roof, a relentless roar drowning all other outside sound. With a bracing breath, Lauren opened the door and lowered a foot straight into ankle-deep mud.

”Why don't you move back to Bounty Bay with us?” She mimicked her brother's cheerful voice. ”You'll have privacy galore, surrounded by native bush seething with history.”

History? More like prehistory. Even the cellphone coverage up here was spotty at best.

Great idea, Todd.

Lauren climbed out and slammed the door before the wind could s.n.a.t.c.h it from her hand. A howling gust hurled a volley of raindrops at her face. She smoothed her hair and swiped rain, like cool tears, from her eyes. Fists on hips, she sloshed around to the hood to consider her predicament. Though her first attempt hadn't worked, it wasn't too shabby an effort. For a city girl.

Except she was no longer a city girl.

She grimaced at her watery reflection in the winds.h.i.+eld. A clump of mud inched down her cheek, and her tee s.h.i.+rt clung in sodden wrinkles. Oh, if the tabloids could see her now.

With an unladylike snort, Lauren smeared the mud off her face. Back to business-more manuka branches ought to do it. She braced her knee to climb out of the ditch, but a chunk of dirt s.h.i.+fted and collapsed beneath her foot, wrenching her ankle to the side as it slid backward. Lauren sprawled on the road and her startled cry flushed a family of quail from the bush.

”Mummy? Mummy!” Drew's m.u.f.fled shouts were followed by a frantic knocking on the car's window.

She rolled over to wave at him and sent him a shaky thumbs up.

Lauren used her s.h.i.+rt to blot the blossoming specks of blood on her palms. G.o.ddammit that stung! Teeth clenched, she tested weight on her ankle, but jolts of agony arrowed up her left leg. Walking home was not an option.

She crawled onto the road and using the car's hood, hauled herself upright.

Drew wound down the window, his nose peeping through the small gap. ”Mummy, are you okay?”

Stuck on a little-used road in the rain with daylight fading? She was anything but okay.

Lauren forced a breezy note into her voice. ”I'm fine, sweetie, just a little ouchy.”

The unmistakable rumble of an approaching engine catapulted her heart into her ribs. Teeth mas.h.i.+ng her lower lip each time her left foot touched the ground, Lauren hobbled to the center of the road. A black Range Rover crested the hill. Caught in the beams of the headlights, she raised a hand and squinted at the vehicle.

Too expensive, too fancy, and too clean for a local's.

The pitch of the motor dropped as the Range Rover coasted to a halt a dozen feet behind her station wagon. Wipers swept rhythmically across the gla.s.s, blurring her view of the driver.

The engine died, and Lauren's stomach twisted into macrame-tight knots. She debated the wisdom of letting Java out to stand beside her. Injured and facing a stranger on a deserted road, she figured the dog's stocky body and wicked incisors would be rea.s.suring.

Drew's nose and palms pressed against the misted windows, as he no doubt watched her move farther away from their car. No...Better if Java stayed with her son. n.o.body would hurt Drew with a hundred pounds of Rottweiler protecting his family.

n.o.body would hurt Drew, period.

A huge blue and white umbrella unfolded out of the vehicle, followed by two legs clad in a masculine-sized pair of gumboots. The driver nudged the door shut and ploughed through the downpour like a striped galleon, only his oilskin coat and denim-clad calves showing. He stopped in front of her and lifted the umbrella so it covered them both. Wiping rain from her eyes, Lauren glanced up-way up-into startling green eyes.

”Looks like your car is well and truly stuck. Do you need a hand?” His gaze travelled down, and his brow creased. ”Wait a sec-are you hurt?”

”W-What?” Lauren's thoughts leaped to the raised scar on her cheek, the first thing most people noticed. But no, the man's gaze didn't s.h.i.+ft above her legs. Of course he was talking about her injuries. One vertebra at a time stiffened as she transferred her weight onto her good leg. ”It's not that bad.”

”You've grazed your knees, and your ankle's starting to swell.” His tone was that of a teacher explaining a difficult concept to a child.

He stared down at her, and his advantage of at least three inches made her feel dainty at five-foot-ten. The suggestion of broad shoulders under the oilskin caused a pearl of sweat to gather on her top lip.