Rescuing Rudi Page 3

  Without waiting for a response, he picked up the dressing gown she’d dropped on the floor by the bed and pulled back the covers. Wrapping the warm robe around her shoulders, he lifted her into his arms and carried her out of the bedroom to the open-plan kitchen and family room.

  Here, he’d set up an invalid’s haven with cushions and a warm doona to make the couch more comfortable. One jug of freshly squeezed orange juice and one of water, a bowl of fruit and another of nuts, and a box of tissues were on a coffee table next to it. For entertainment, he’d left her a pile of magazines and some books, and, after settling her down, he showed her how to use the remote control to find whatever she wanted to watch on the giant screen.

  “I’m working in my outside office, but I’ll be back in a couple of hours to get us some lunch. In the meantime, make yourself comfortable and just rest, okay?”

  She nodded, not allowing the deep pleasure she was feeling to show on her face. Life was just getting better and better, and she meant to wring it for all it was worth!

  After he’d tidied up her breakfast things, made fresh coffee, and gone back to his office, she looked around the enormous room flooded with light from a wall of windows looking out onto a valley of green trees, bushes and farms all the way north to the distant Yarra Ranges.

  A set of French doors led out onto a wrap-around balcony, custom made for morning coffee, listening to the birds and looking at the perfect view. She could get very used to that.

  Sipping her coffee and nibbling a handful of nuts, she put on a movie and settled back feeling very satisfied with herself and life.

  * * *

  Three days later, Saturday, she figured it must be, Rudi woke to find no tray of breakfast waiting for her. That was odd. Something must be wrong. She looked at the clock; it was 9:55. In five minutes, Denver should come through the door and carry her to the couch. That’s what he’d been doing every morning so far. If he didn’t show up, she wasn’t sure what she’d do. If she went looking for him, he’d realise she was quite capable of walking by herself and then might he throw her out?

  Ten o’clock came and went with no sign of him. She was hungry. She’d become very used to having a steady supply of delicious food.

  Ten-thirty. Something must be wrong. Slipping out of bed, she peeked out the door. Everything was quiet. She made her way down the hall to the living room. The couch was there, but the doona was missing as were the jugs and plates of food and drink. Odder and odder!

  She went to her room, pulled the doona off her bed and took it back to the couch. After organising that, she hunted around the kitchen, managing to make herself a breakfast of cereal, toast and jam and coffee, which she took back to the couch to eat in front of the television.

  A short time later she heard a car, and looking out the kitchen window she saw the BMW coming up the drive.

  Hurrying back to the couch, she lay down and pulled the doona over her. Throwing one arm up behind her in what she hoped was a dramatic pose of suffering, she waited for Denver to come and apologise for his absence and for leaving her to fend for herself.

  “You’re up then. You were still asleep when I checked earlier, so I didn’t disturb you,” she heard him say as he put some things down on the kitchen counter and then came through to the couch carrying more bags. He picked up the control and turned off the TV.

  “What…” Rudi began to protest, but he stopped her.

  “Come on,” he said, pulling the doona off her and throwing it over his shoulder. “Hop up and come with me.”

  “But…” She spoke as feebly as possible and draped her arm weakly over the side of the couch. He chuckled.

  “Come on. You got here; you can get back. Now do as you’re told. Hop up and follow me. I don’t expect to have to tell you again.”

  Rudi was shocked. She’d been thoroughly enjoying the routine so far: him bringing her a tray of breakfast, then carrying her to the couch where she spent the day. Him coming in at lunch and dinner to provide her with delicious meals and a little chat.

  They hadn’t talked much even when they’d been together. She’d thought it better to pretend to be too weak to do anything, even talk. Firstly, she didn’t want him getting any ideas about her being well enough to leave and, secondly, she didn’t want him to start asking any personal questions that she didn’t want to answer. And so far, at least, he seemed to be the strong silent type.

  He’d also been carrying her back to her room each evening after dinner, even though he must know she could walk as she’d been getting herself to and from the bathroom and showering with no problem, but neither of them had mentioned that.

  Damn, she thought to herself crossly. She’d blown her cover with the breakfast and the doona; she should have been more patient and stayed in bed. Too late now. She’d have to find an excuse to have a relapse as soon as she could. In the meantime—

  Groaning, she struggled to her feet and stumbled after him. In her room, she fell on top of the doona he’d put on the bed. He ignored her.

  “I’ve decided it’s time you started getting dressed. I don’t think it’s healthy lying around in a nightdress all day. I’ve brought you some clothes: five skirts and blouses to wear on weekdays with tights and shoes, and a jacket if it’s cold, jeans and jumpers which you can wear around the house and in the garden on the weekends, a pair of warm pyjamas and some extra underwear.

  “As it’s Saturday today, you would normally wear jeans but I’m not sure they would be comfortable on your bruised hip, so you can wear this skirt today.” He handed her a short black pleated skirt. “And instead of a blouse, put these on.” He handed her a lightweight, grey knitted woollen jumper with a white collar, a burgundy cardigan, and a pair of black tights. “There’s more underwear here too. Take some and go into the bathroom and change now so I can check that the clothes fit.”

  “I don’t feel well. I want to go back to bed.” Rudi scrambled the doona over herself and curled into the foetal position.

  “I spoke to your doctor before we left the hospital,” he said firmly. “She said a couple of days of bed rest would be all you should need, and then it would be better for you to be up and moving around. You’ve had three days in bed; that should be more than enough. You can leave the sling on for now, but it should be off soon, too. It wasn’t a bad sprain. The doctor said a week. Your follow-up appointment is on Wednesday, so we’ll find out for sure then. Now get up and get dressed.”

  As tragically as possible, Rudi stumbled out of bed, glared at him as she snatched the clothes and bag he held out for her, and limped pitifully to the bathroom to dress.

  Closing the door behind her, she sat on the platform on which stood the bath and choked back angry tears. She didn’t like this unexpected turn of events at all. She needed to think and plan her strategy. Did she want to leave here? No! That much she was absolutely sure of. She neither wanted to leave of her own volition or be asked to leave, so she couldn’t afford to annoy Denver or make him angry.

  If he wasn’t going to buy her invalid routine any longer, she was going to have to change tactics. Time for seduction. She smiled a little smile, slipped her arm out of its sling and got dressed.

  The clothes fitted perfectly, but looking at herself in the mirror once dressed, she grimaced. Never in her wildest dreams or nightmares would she wear clothes like this. She felt like a young mother on her way to church; nothing wrong with that, of course, but definitely not her style, and definitely not her preferred choice if she was going to seduce this guy either.

  She brushed what little hair she had, slipped her arm back into its sling and emerged from the bathroom, dumped her nightie on her bed and turned around in front of him in a parody of a catwalk model. She saw him grit his teeth and for a moment thought she might have gone too far, but then he gave a cursory nod.

  “They seem to fit. The seams on your tights are crooked. Straighten them, please.”

  “Who cares?” Rudi shrugged. “No one is going to see
me anyway.”

  “I am going to see you, but more importantly you are going to see yourself, Rudi. Pride in yourself is the point. You seem to be somewhat short of that.”

  Rudi sighed and fiddled with the seams on her tights. She’d never worn seamed tights before, and it wasn’t easy unscrunching them and getting the seam to run in a straight line down the back of her leg, especially with only one hand.

  It was ridiculous, but his own always impeccable dress should have warned her that he was a bit obsessive about neatness, and it was a small price to pay to buy some time. Once she had him under her spell, she’d quickly have him buying her the clothes she wanted, instead of her having to wear these boring clothes he’d chosen.

  The seams as neat as she could get them, she turned her back to him.

  “Straight enough for you?” She looked at him over her shoulder, stuck her bottom out and wiggled it at him.

  His neck tensed and his fists clenched. Oops, he didn’t look happy. She needed to be more careful if she didn’t want to be tossed onto the streets. She smiled what she hoped was a suitably coquettish smile. He didn’t respond, just stood looking at her.

  Her heart flopped. In immaculate blue jeans, a pale-grey, crew-necked jumper and black, zip-through warm jacket, his silver and iron-grey hair impeccably styled and gelled into a wave on top with one wayward curl hanging down onto his forehead, his stubble carefully cut back to a shadow and his moustache trimmed, he looked nothing short of sensational.

  Be patient, she told herself. She’d bring him around. She turned back to face him.

  “Well?” he asked, cocking one eyebrow.

  “Yeah, they’re fine. Pretty ugly but they fit okay.”

  “I wasn’t asking for a review of the clothes. Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

  She looked at him blankly.

  “Yeah, you look very nice too,” she tried with a ‘come hither’ smile, but he didn’t smile back.

  “I meant ‘thank you for the clothes’.”

  “Oh.” She mentally kicked herself again. “Yeah, cheers, hey.”

  “No.” He folded his arms. “Try again.”

  “Thanks?”

  “Thank you for the clothes, Denver.”

  She sighed exaggeratedly and spoke slowly and exaggeratedly, her voice going up and down. “Thank you for the clothes, Denver.”

  He tipped his head sideways, giving it a little shake, raised both eyebrows, and pursed his lips.

  She shrugged nervously. Had she called his wrath down on her head this time? She wasn’t sure how far she could push him… yet.

  “Okay,” he said briskly. Rudi felt a wave of relief. She’d got away with it. “I’m going to show you around the rest of the house, and then we’re going for a short walk outside. I shan’t wear you out, but I don’t think it’s good for you being cooped up on the couch all day. There’re some shoes by your bed. I think they’ll fit.”

  “These?” Using one finger and a thumb for each shoe and her other fingers spread upward, Rudi picked up a pair of flat, black, lace-up shoes as though they had both stepped in something unpleasant, and held them up to him in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? What am I? Ten years old or sixty?” She opened her fingers and let the shoes drop to the floor.

  Denver’s eyes narrowed ominously, and his hands twitched.

  “Put them on.”

  Rudi shrugged and decided to just do as she was told, for the moment. How, though, was she going to sway provocatively when she walked without the high-heels she’d always worn before she’d wound up on the streets in her runners which, it now appeared, had gone in the bin with the rest of her clothes.

  The shoes fit perfectly and were unbelievably comfortable, although she wasn’t going to tell him that.

  “Well?” he said.

  “Yeah, they fit.”

  He didn’t say anything, just stood looking at her. Feeling uncomfortable under his relentless scrutiny, she wriggled and shrugged her shoulders.

  “Look, I’m wearing these ugly shoes, this silly skirt, these horrible tights,” she said crossly. “Even the horrible ugly knickers. What more do you want?”

  His eyes narrowed, and he slowly rubbed his hands together.

  “Rudi by name, rude by nature,” he murmured. “If you weren’t covered in bruises, I’d be very tempted to lift up that ‘silly skirt’ and take down those ‘horrible tights and horrible ugly knickers’ and spank your bottom.”

  Rudi’s eyes shot open wide and her hands flew to protectively cover her behind. Had she heard right? Spank her? Would he seriously do that? Certainly no one had ever done it to her in the past. Her mouth was dry and her heart beating way too fast, and not from fear she realised; it was something else. It was excitement.

  The moment passed, the tension eased. Denver relaxed.

  “I don’t know anything about your past, Rudi, and I promised not to pry, but I do know this: living dirty on the streets and guzzling bourbon from a bottle, not to mention throwing yourself under cars, is not a good present if you want a future. That filthy state, the drinking, and your lack of manners show no respect for yourself or anybody else. You are still not well enough to leave, so you will stay here, but you will obey my rules.”

  “Like what?” Rudi tossed her head dismissively, but her heart was pounding as she wiped her damp palms on her skirt.

  “Nothing too onerous or weird,” he smiled. “Number one is that you will be up and dressed as you are now in a skirt, blouse, stockings and shoes and in the kitchen at 7:15 each morning to help with breakfast. Eight o’clock is early enough on the weekend. Number two is that you will keep yourself tidy and clean, your room tidy and clean, and that you will tidy and clean up after yourself around the house. Number three is that you will be polite, and that includes ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and no swearing. I don’t swear and I won’t allow you to. I think that will do for now.”

  He smiled, and Rudi’s breath caught in her still dry throat making speech impossible.

  “It’s okay,” he went on. “There’s no need for you to say anything. The rules are not negotiable. As long as you are under my roof, you will obey them. And you will be here for a bit longer yet, that is also not negotiable. When I think you are fully recovered, we will sort out where you will go; until then you will do as I say. Now tidy up in here and put all these new clothes away properly in the wardrobe. Then clean up the mess you left in the kitchen, and don’t ever let me find anything like that again. I’ve left an apron for you on the counter. Don’t get your clothes wet or dirty.”

  He watched her tidy her room and helped her hang her clothes in the walk-in wardrobe and make her bed, and then stood by the door and waited for her to leave. Her knees wobbled as she squeezed past, and it had nothing to do with any lingering injuries. He oversaw her again while she put away the milk, cereal, bread and butter, and showed her how to stack her dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and what sponge to use to wipe down the kitchen counters.

  When it was all done to his satisfaction, he held out his hand.

  “Good. Don’t ever let me find a mess like that again. Come on now. I’ll show you around.” Rudi looked at his extended hand in surprise, and then up at him. His mouth was smiling, but his eyes were serious. Not feeling like getting herself into a confrontation there was really no way she could benefit from, Rudi took a couple of steps forward and placed her hand shyly in his, her stomach contracting into a tight ball as his big hand closed tightly over hers.

  “Come on, then,” he chuckled.

  Despite her intense awareness of his holding her hand the whole time, the tour of the house and surrounds was fun. As curious as she’d been, she’d not poked around while he’d been at work for fear of being caught and shown the door, so it was exciting to finally have a good look at his and, for the moment, her home.

  Built on the side of the hill, the front door opened into the hall that ran the length of the house. The first door to the left was the laundry
leading to the backyard, while the first door to the right opened into the kitchen. The kitchen joined the living area, which also had its own doorway from the hall, and in which was the couch and television she’d been using during her days here so far. At the other end, slightly closed off was a formal dining room and formal lounge leading on to the veranda.

  On the other side of the hall, was her bedroom and en suite, another room with a closed door which he walked her past without commenting on, a stairway leading to the downstairs and the master bedroom at the end.

  “That’s my room,” he said casually as she peeked through the half-open door and gasped. It was huge, with three walls of glass allowing a panoramic view. Double doors led onto the semi-enclosed balcony, on which there was a small table, two chairs and a big double day bed.

  In the moment he allowed her to peek in, she also saw a large walk-in wardrobe and the door that she assumed led into his private bathroom, but before she could see further into his private life, he had closed the door and pulled her by the hand back to the staircase that they then went down.

  As they stepped off the last step, she felt his hand tighten, gripping hers so hard it almost hurt. She looked up at him, but his face was turned away and all she could see was the tendon in his neck standing rigidly to attention.

  They were in another large living space, furnished with a variety of chairs and tables suggesting it could be used as a second living space for a family, if a family lived in the house, or for casual entertaining or a party, especially as there was a kitchenette and refrigerator at one end. Opposite the kitchen area were another two bedrooms and a bathroom, but the whole area seemed oddly lifeless.

  “I don’t often come down here,” he said crisply.

  “What’s through that door?”

  The room they were in had one corner chopped off by walls enclosing another space. It was the door to the sealed section to which Rudi was pointing.