Outback Secrets by Rachael Johns

Chapter Twenty

Did I leave the TV on? Liam wondered as he approached his apartment later that afternoon to hear the sounds of Christmas carols coming from within.

But the moment he stepped inside—Sheila pushing past him, already sniffing the air—he discovered something even more disturbing. There were actual Christmas carols wafting from the kitchen where Henri appeared to be doing some kind of baking, if the flour scattered over every available surface was anything to go by. It almost looked like it had snowed.

What on earth was she doing here in the middle of the afternoon?

Cursing under her breath, Henri’s mood seemed in complete contrast to the cheerful tunes currently torturing his eardrums. Her head was bent and her hands manically kneading some kind of pale brown concoction.

He took a moment just to observe. Just to let the fact she was cooking in his kitchen settle in. He watched Macca cooking all the time, but it never felt like this. This felt so … domestic. A sight he never expected to see. A sight he never wanted to see.

His chest grew tight, and he found himself struggling to breathe. First, she’d hung that bloody wreath on his door, then she’d somehow managed to get him to spill most of his secrets, and now this.

Thiswas too much.

Marching right into the kitchen, he jabbed his finger against Henri’s phone to silence the music. Who in their right mind actually liked Mariah Carey singing about what she wanted for Christmas anyway?

‘What the hell are you doing?’ he demanded.

Henri spun around and Liam got his first proper look at her. He raised his eyebrows, but it was impossible to be angry when someone was standing in front of you looking like that. Her hair was streaked with flour and had all but fallen out of its ponytail, there were stains all over her shorts and T-shirt, a sheen on her brow and even more flour on her face.

She was a total mess and also totally adorable. Something dangerous shifted inside him as Henri’s flour-covered hand flew to her chest.

‘Oh my God! You almost gave me a heart attack. You shouldn’t sneak up on people like that.’

‘Maybe if you weren’t blasting Christmas carols so loudly, you’d have heard me.’

She shrugged. ‘Maybe, but you can’t make gingerbread without Christmas carols. According to my mother, it’s the law.’

He stared past her to the weird-looking shapes scattered throughout the sea of flour. ‘They’re gingerbread cookies?’

‘They’re supposed to be,’ she said despondently as she gazed at the mess on the kitchen bench.

He wasn’t sure whether she was angry, frustrated, upset, or a combination of all three.

‘What are they for?’

‘You,’ she said simply.

This one word squeezed at his heart. ‘You’re making me gingerbread cookies?’ Katie was the last person to cook him anything Christmas-related—eggnog cookies—the day before the shooting.

Henri nodded and wiped her brow with the back of her hand, smearing even more flour across her forehead. ‘Remember? I owe you some, and I always keep my promises. But I also wanted to do something to say thank you … for yesterday, for taking a risk and pushing me to get in that Airvan. As much as I could have killed you at the time, if it wasn’t for you forcing me out of my comfort zone, I’d still be wondering if I’d ever be able to fly again.’

‘That’s really sweet of you.’

‘You might not think so when you taste them. That’s if I can manage to actually get any shapes onto the tray without the dough crumbling. I’m not sure if my mistake was adding too much flour, kneading it too much, or not leaving the dough to rest long enough.’

He smiled. Now she definitely sounded frustrated.

‘It’s not funny!’

Liam glanced around the kitchen again. ‘Oh, that’s where you’re wrong. I think it’s very funny.’

Henri picked up a cookie cutter and hurled it at him. ‘Jerk!’

Luckily, he was a good catch.

She scowled as his fingers closed around her weapon. ‘I’d like to see you do better.’

He took a step towards her. ‘Actually, I’m not a bad baker. When I was a kid, my parents were always busy in the shop right up to Christmas, so my little sister and I used to bake all the cookies and treats for Christmas Day.’

Which meant he could offer to help … but right now, baking was the very last thing on his mind. All the good intentions he’d had regarding Henri flew out the window.

Ignoring the warning voices inside his head that this wasn’t a smart idea, Liam closed the rest of the distance between them, palmed his hands against her floury cheeks and yanked her mouth to his. A low, sweet noise sounded in her throat, before her hands landed in his hair and her tongue pushed into his mouth.

Hello, Henrietta.

He shoved her up against the kitchen counter and they kissed like a couple of savages. It was only when they heard the sound of Sheila’s paws scraping on the benchtop that they finally pulled apart, turning to see the dog getting stuck into the big pile of dough, clearly thinking all her Christmases had come at once.

‘Down, Sheila! Out. On your mat,’ Liam yelled. ‘Now!’

The dog skedaddled out of the kitchen, her head hung low in shame. He felt bad for all of two seconds before he turned back to Henri and all thoughts but having her vanished.

‘I’m not. Sure. If you. Noticed.’ Her words came in short, sharp bursts as her chest heaved up and down rapidly. ‘But we. Don’t actually. Have an audience right now?’

‘Oh, I noticed,’ he growled, his desire kicking up another notch as he gazed at her mouth. Now her lips looked red and deliciously swollen and knowing he’d made them that way had him feeling all primal and powerful. ‘Do you have any objections?’

She shook her head. ‘Absolutely none whatsoever.’

Liam wasn’t really a religious man, but he praised the Lord as he dipped his head, desperate to taste her again. Although this wasn’t in the plan, the last week and a half had felt like the longest game of foreplay in his life. He’d been a fool thinking he’d ever be content being just friends with Henrietta Forward and he was more than ready for this to progress to the next step, but Henri stopped him with a palm against his chest.

‘What about your lip?’ She reached up and swept her finger tenderly across it. His skin buzzed beneath her touch and every last muscle in his body tightened. ‘Does it still hurt?’

Right now, he didn’t give a damn about his lip. ‘No. It’s fine.’

‘In that case …’ She walked her fingers back up his chest and this time it was she who kissed him.

Things got back to hot and heavy pretty damn fast. Their bodies pressed so tightly against each other, it was a miracle their hands managed to get a look in, but Liam’s fingers trailed down her neck and slid between them, skating over the edge of Henri’s breasts before taking each one in the palm of his hands.

The gasp that shot from her mouth into his was like a dart of desire right to his core. He tried to ignore the erection that flared—half of him already desperate to be inside her, the other half wanting to explore every last nook and crevice of her body first. That’s if he could manage to take his hands off her breasts. They felt deliciously full and heavy in his grasp and when he swirled his thumbs around her nipples and then squeezed, her moan almost sent him over the edge.

‘Man, Henrietta, you’re gorgeous,’ he uttered, pulling back slightly as he dragged his gaze down her body, imagining the gift that awaited him once he’d peeled off her clothes. He couldn’t wait to touch and taste her everywhere. When he’d come upstairs less than half an hour ago, he’d been planning on taking a shower and a quick nap before opening the pub, but now he felt anything but tired.

Shower!At that thought he remembered how hot and humid it had been out in his studio. He couldn’t expect her to get naked with him smelling like this.

‘I’m all sweaty and gross,’ he groaned, reluctantly pulling back.

‘You and me both,’ she said, smiling as she gestured to her clothing.

Once again, his gaze skimmed down her beautiful body. ‘Yeah, you’re right. You’re a very dirty girl. Maybe next time you should wear an apron.’

She smirked—‘I’m pretty sure there won’t be a next time’—and he wasn’t sure whether she was talking about the baking or what they were about to do, but in that moment he didn’t care.

‘Just let me take a super quick shower,’ he said, already reaching for the bottom of his shirt.

‘I could join you?’ Henri suggested. ‘As you said, I’m dirty too, and in the interests of saving water and all …’ Her voice drifted off as she walked her fingers up his now-naked torso.

That was all the encouragement Liam needed. The thought of having Henri hot, wet and naked had him grabbing her hand and dragging them both towards the bathroom. They were almost there when a heavy knock sounded on his apartment door.

They both froze. Henri’s eyes widened, a question on her face.

He shrugged. It wasn’t Janet’s day to clean his apartment and aside from her, no one else came up here. Just his luck that someone chose now to stop by.

The urgent knock came again, and this time Lara’s voice joined the cacophony.

‘Liam! Are you in there? Liam?’ she yelled in her strong Welsh accent. ‘This is an emergency!’

Despite the desperate pitch of her voice, he still wanted to ignore her. Frustration coursing through his body, he dropped Henri’s hand, pressed his lips quickly against her forehead and then stalked over to the door.

He hoped Lara had a damn good reason for interrupting. The pub better be on fire or something, because Liam couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this turned on.

‘What is it?’ he shouted as he pulled open the door to see her standing there soaking wet.

‘There’s a burst water main just outside the pub. Water’s coming in through the back door. It’s already flooding the kitchen. Macca’s in a rage.’

Liam swore. Now his cook wasn’t the only one!