Hero Duty (7 page)

‘Is that all?’ She pushed her drink aside. ‘I hate being stared at. I look like a giantess in fashionable clothes and heels.’

‘A Valkyrie.’

‘Pardon?’

He waved a dismissive hand, but she stayed focussed. ‘Do you really see me as some warrior female? Me?’

‘The potential’s there.’ He assessed her breasts.

They tingled.

She clicked her fingers near her eyes, indicating that he should look up.

He did and grinned. ‘Your stepmother brainwashed you. You’re tall, yeah. So are models. You’re gorgeous, babe. Accept it.’

It was too much to cope with. Too revolutionary. ‘I don’t have time. Shopping takes hours.’

‘I’ve noticed that.’

She grimaced, reminded of his previous girlfriends. They wouldn’t have gone to dinner with him to be lectured on improving their appearance. She pulled herself up. Those women hadn’t hired him as an emotional bodyguard. He was doing his job and thinking more clearly than her. ‘The clothes would be like armour.’

‘Exactly.’

‘Okay, well I guess I could make time.’ She’d stay up late tonight to at least skim the remaining papers. There were a couple of them that had to be signed and returned to Numbat headquarters by the weekend.

‘Your herb bread.’ Their waiter was back.

‘Thanks.’ Brodie offered her the basket, then took a piece himself. ‘Did Derek or Portia call, leave a message?’

She concentrated on the toast, the crisp crust, butter-soaked middle and scattering of parsley, basil, oregano and could it be marjoram? ‘Two missed calls, one each. Both left messages that I should call them. Then Derek texted me. He wants to know where we’re staying. It was a good idea to leave my phone off.’ She’d also missed calls from Joe and a couple of other corporate-types at Numbat. They were all chasing her for decisions and papers to sign now that she was chairperson. It was probably cowardice that she hadn’t responded to those, either. She preferred to think it was courtesy: not intruding in their out-of-office hours.

The pressure on her, though, grew with each contact.

‘Will you call them?’

She wiped her buttery fingers on a serviette. ‘I texted Derek the name of the hotel, then I turned the phone off again.’

‘Sacrificing use of your phone isn’t a long-term strategy,’ Brodie said. ‘Think of it as teaching them that you don’t dance to their tune.’

‘I think they’ll be slow learners. Look, can we not talk about them or my situation? I’d like to eat without indigestion.’

‘Fair enough. More bread?’

‘No, thanks.’

The violin music had changed to Spanish guitar, although she had to strain to hear it through the rising buzz of the busy restaurant.

‘Was it hard?’ she said suddenly.

Brodie leaned forward. ‘Pardon?’

She leaned forward, too. ‘Standing against all your friends in the army to take Sonia’s back. Was it hard?’

His face shut down, expression wiped.

‘Please. I’m not trying to intrude. I…how did you find the strength to stand against everyone?’

‘I wasn’t standing alone.’ He relaxed and emotion showed again: a hint of tiredness and determination. Conviction. ‘The army — hell, all the military — is against sexual harassment, discrimination, whatever form the disrespect and abuse takes. There are plenty of guys serving who hate that rubbish. But the culture remains blokey. You’re training to go into combat and you know that your life is going to depend on being able to trust the guys around you. So you build that bond.’

She nodded. ‘But isn’t there a flipside to that? No, not a flipside. There’s been research...’

‘Your lasagne.’ Served with a flourish.

Brodie waited till the waiter retreated again. ‘Go on.’

She’d had second thoughts. The army had been Brodie’s chosen home. She had to respect his choice, not attack it. ‘The lasagne is good. Hot, but good.’

‘Jessica, it’s all right to speak your mind. Definitely with me. Spit it out.’

So elegant.

She grounded her fork. ‘Okay. I read that when it counts, soldiers don’t fight for their country or because it’s the job they trained for or anything like that. They fight for one another.’

He nodded and kept eating.

‘Which means it’s in the army’s best interest to foster a really strong bond between you. They encourage an us-and-them mentality. I think maybe that spills over, so the
them
isn’t just the enemy, it’s everyone not in the unit. The army wants first loyalty and sometimes I think it becomes a soldier’s only loyalty.’

‘You’ve thought about this.’ He’d stopped eating to study her. ‘Canberra has a lot of officers stationed there. Did you date one?’

‘No. That wasn’t old bitterness at a guy’s other loyalties. I knew you’d get defensive and go on the attack. I should have stayed quiet.’

‘I wasn’t attacking you. I was jealous.’ He smiled ruefully. ‘You’d be wasted on an officer.’

‘Um, why?’ The unexpected compliment thrilled her.

‘They’re ambitious. They set goals and attack till they achieve them. Whereas you look around and would rather enjoy life in the here and now — and maybe in the Hittite past.’

‘You think I enjoy life?’ She was stunned.

‘In your quiet way. I bet you could tell me what herbs are in this lasagne.’

‘Basil, oregano and parsley. Cinnamon, too, I suspect. You can just taste the warm buzz. Chili.’

He grinned widely. ‘See? You take the time to notice things.’

‘Yes, but…’ The idea of herself as a connoisseur was revolutionary. It fitted, though. She was never dissatisfied as so many of her step-mother’s social circle and her own old school friends were. She’d always put it down to be boring, but Brodie’s approval made her reconsider.

Her mum had enjoyed life exuberantly. Maybe that same enjoyment bubbled in Jessica, but she’d contained it. The thought that she had that potential for joy was exhilarating and frightening, as if she were contemplating something wicked — just how buttoned-down was she?

‘We weren’t talking about me,’ she said sternly.

‘No, the army was in the hot seat.’ He sighed. ‘To some extent, you’re right. Loyalty in the services is vital. In battle there’s no time to think about your actions. You have to trust your orders, and it helps if you trust the man — the officer — giving them.’

‘Is that why you left? You no longer trusted the hierarchy?’

‘Yes. No. It got confusing. My gut said I no longer belonged.’

‘Because you’d stood up for Sonia?’

‘They turned on me, Jessica. I get along with people. I never had a problem with commissioned officers. Some are idiots. Some are young and learning. It’s a sergeant’s job to deal.’

She nodded encouragement. The hard way his words were coming, she thought maybe he’d never explained it to anyone. Being a tough guy, he probably hadn’t even put it into words for himself. Emotions were messy.

‘The lieutenant who groped Sonia was third-generation army. A couple of his uncles are still serving. They’re respected in the forces. He has a handful of cousins, all guys, scattered through the ranks. He’s tied in tight.’

‘So when Sonia reported him for assault, she was taking on half the army?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Did she know?’

‘I doubt it. She just saw an idiot, and reported him. Then the jerks crawled out.’

The ugly words. ‘Sonia told me about the things they called her. But others were there for her, believed her. I’m not trashing the army.’

‘There are good people in it. Most of them. Enough that part of me…’

‘You think you should have stayed.’

A long silence as he ate the last of his lasagne. Then he pushed the plate away and looked at her. ‘Tim, Major Folke, and I served in Afghanistan together. We weren’t drinking buddies or anything, but I respected him. I assumed that respect went two ways. I’d have been happy to serve under him again.’

‘Okay.’

‘When it became clear that I wasn’t going to back away from my statement I saw the lieutenant grope Sonia. I saw her knee him in the balls. I also saw her torn shirt.’

Jessica pushed away her own lasagne.

‘I wasn’t going to listen to any of that bullshit, that it was a bit of fun, that she’d asked for it, that she was stuck up.’

‘Blame the victim. It happens all the time.’

He thrust his jaw out. ‘Sonia did the right thing reporting Lieutenant Kale. No way would I leave her out there. When I wouldn’t retract my statement, Major Folke said I was having an affair with her. That my testimony was biased because I was screwing her.’

‘You weren’t.’ Sonia had made that clear talking to Jessica. Sonia was ambitious. She wouldn’t jeopardise her future by having an affair with a non-commissioned officer.

‘He lied, and he lied to destroy me. Backing a fellow officer was more important than the truth.’

‘More important than honour.’

Brodie stared at her, his attention caught.

‘You’re an honourable man, Brodie Carlton. The whole affair revolted your principles; what you believe in, what you fight for.’

‘It was a kick in the gut.’

‘And you kicked back.’ She raised her soda-water glass. ‘More power to you.’

His intensity relaxed. He leaned back as the waiter cleared their plates. They ordered tiramisu and coffees. ‘We wouldn’t have won, you know, if Lieutenant Kale hadn’t been a moron.’

‘Justice. He used the old boy’s network to protect himself. Only fair that it hung him.’

Kale had propositioned, then groped, a cadet while still under investigation for the case Sonia had brought. Except this cadet had a general for a godfather and a good friend quick with a phone camera. A more thorough-going investigation had censured Major Folke for lying under oath. Brodie’s reputation had been restored. The damage couldn’t be.

‘Good tiramisu.’ Jessica let the subject drop. She had her answer.

Standing against his friends, against people he respected, had been hard. Scratch the surface of his discipline and the scars showed. Brodie wouldn’t trust easily again.

Whatever she decided in the next few weeks would have the same lasting effect on her character.

Brodie looked at her. ‘Now you know I wasn’t a hero, just a guy who got caught up in an ugly mess.’

She rested her elbows on the table. ‘An ordinary guy who stands his ground is a hero. I get that you’re not comfortable with the title, but some of us need heroes, so suck it up.’

He grinned. ‘Suck it up?’

‘Or whatever they say in the army.’ She refused to blush at the thoughts the word ‘suck’ and Brodie brought to mind. ‘I think this tiramisu has alcohol in it.’ That was her excuse for her wayward thoughts. She smiled at him.

He frowned. ‘There’s one important point you need to remember about heroes,’ he said. ‘They ride off into the sunset.’

Her smiled faded, the last of it cracking in painful shards as she understood him. Suddenly, the music was too loud, the other diners plain noisy and the tiramisu overly sweet. Carefully, she placed her spoon to the side of the dessert and picked up her cup of coffee.

He was drawing a hard line under the discussion. He’d seen and rejected the emotional closeness of shared confidences. What was between them wasn’t a relationship. It would end.

Jessica understood rejection and how to mask her feelings. She didn’t always manage it, but this time she could be superficial, witty. ‘Don’t forget to wear your sunglasses. Sunsets are bright in Sydney.’

‘I like you, Jessica, but I was a soldier a long time. Men get trapped in the high of being “rescuers” and women…’

‘Like being rescued?’

‘No.’ He reached for her hand, but she pulled away. His mouth was set grimly. ‘Women mistake gratitude for something more. Your stepbrother was right about one thing. You are vulnerable. And I’m not going to take advantage.’

Sydney’s morning peak hour traffic beeped, revved, squealed its brakes and stalled at traffic light after traffic light. Brodie sat behind the wheel of the rental car and contemplated the decisions he’d made yesterday and how, today, they were biting him in the ass.

Not that his decisions were wrong. And as a sergeant he’d gotten used to wearing people’s resentment of sensible but unpopular decisions. This time, though, the consequences sucked.

He glanced at Jessica sitting beside him in the passenger seat.

Her face was turned aside as she gazed in fascination at the latest traffic jam. There was nothing to see, but the view out her window had the advantage of not including him.

Hell.

Last night it had been like touching a snail. One moment she’d been open and smiling. The next, she’d been tucked up tight in her shell.

He’d done that.

Everything he’d said had been the truth, but it might as well have been a lie for all the connection it had to the real truth.

She’d gotten too close.

In the soft lighting and quiet chaos of the restaurant, she’d put aside all the rubbish of a screwed-up day and focussed on him. She’d listened and she’d understood what he’d lost in standing by her friend, Lieutenant Dwyer. He’d told her about Tim Folke and the kick to the guts his lie was. He hadn’t shared that betrayal with anyone else.

A beautiful blonde who showed her emotions in the darkening of soul-searching blue eyes could turn a man inside out.

It wasn’t just Jessica who was vulnerable.

Swap the army fatigues for a medieval knight’s armour and you had Brodie’s reason for being. He lived to serve. Martial-arts training in his teens had taught him the power of disciplining his energy. The army had shown him that he could change the world, make it better. Modern armies didn’t just destroy. They built.

For more than ten years he’d lived with a purpose beyond himself: to serve, to be part of a team. That had been ripped away from him. He knew he was searching for something to take its place.

It would be a devastating mistake to take on the role of Jessica’s rescuer. Bodyguard he could do. As an outsider he could also observe the situation and give her strategies for protecting herself. What he couldn’t do was become emotionally involved.

But it freaking cut that she’d taken his unsubtle hint and retreated into her private-school, rich-girl detachment.