Kate. Damon’s heart hammered harder against his chest and he rubbed a hand over his face. If I told you I loved you and asked you not to do this, would it make a difference?
‘Hey, Damo, what’s up? You’re not going soft on us now, are you?’ Rolling his shoulders, Seb eyed him curiously.
Damon clenched and unclenched his hands, did a neck stretch. ‘Right behind you.’
‘Okay, see you guys at the bottom.’ Seb grinned, then stepped up onto the ledge. Brad and Damon followed.
Damon watched Seb, high winds plucking at his shirtsleeves. Seb hurled himself into space, then Brad several seconds later. ‘Too close,’ Damon swore beneath his breath. His palms, his back, itched with sweat as he watched them plummet towards the ground for five seconds…six… He let out a sigh as each guy’s parachute unfurled. Those few seconds of tense waiting were the worst. Kate had had a brother she still mourned who’d died in similar circumstances and right now he understood something of how she felt.
He watched them growing smaller by the second, Brad veering close to the tower’s wall, but managing to steer himself out of trouble.
He grabbed the back of his neck with his hand as voices and bodies swirled behind him. Damn it, why wasn’t he jumping? Any moment they were going to ask him to step off or step aside. Kate. An image of her tumbling down the escalator and landing in a crumpled heap zapped through his mind. He remembered that instant of terror, the feeling of helplessness at not being able to catch her, to absorb her pain as his own.
He blinked the sweat and thoughts away, straightened, swaying slightly on the ledge. The city of Kuala Lumpur sprawled beneath him, the Petronas Towers shimmered in the heat haze in the distance. Another step as the wind whipped around his parachute pack, threatening his balance. Jump before it’s too late. Carpe Diem. Now was what he lived for. Now was all that mattered. Taking risks was his life.
There’s one risk you’re not willing to take. The most important, the most daring risk of all.
Kate’s wisdom.
Kate’s pain.
Kate’s love.
And the blazingly honest truth. It almost blinded him with its clarity, damn near knocked him sideways with its force.
He’d chosen one hell of a moment for an epiphany.
He inched back carefully. Almost too carefully. The instant he was back on the deck, he unclipped his parachute pack, handed it to an astonished jumper and hurried back to the elevator.
There was a future. And for the first time in years he had something worth living for.
Sydney airport teemed with passengers leaving on early morning flights as he exited. He’d showered and changed in the terminal before getting his car out of long-term parking and heading straight to work. His hopes of surprising her at home had been dashed by the aircraft’s late arrival.
He had big plans for the evening. Huge plans. Starting with dinner in one of Sydney’s best-known restaurants, then after he’d wined and dined her…he’d tell her what he should have told her before he left. What he’d been too afraid to admit even to himself, let alone acknowledge aloud.
He felt like a different man. He was a different man.
Right now he was an impatient man who couldn’t wait to make up for the time he’d wasted. He straightened his tie, then glanced at his watch as he entered the office. Kate’s chair was vacant, her computer screen blank. Disappointment stabbed at him. She’d missed work on Friday—his fault—but, knowing Kate’s work ethic, he’d expected her here bright and early.
Sandy was in her favourite spot by the coffee machine. She smiled her million-kilowatt smile at him over her steaming cappuccino. ‘Hi there, Damon.’
‘Good morning, Sandy. Kate not here yet?’
She lifted her mug in the direction of the door. ‘You missed her.’
Was it that obvious? ‘Did she—?’
‘She dropped in for a few moments, then walked out with a bag of stuff. About twenty minutes ago.’
He felt his smile fade and a niggle of doubt crept in just below his breastbone. He wasn’t in the mood for puzzles. Eight hours of flying and no sleep suddenly caught up with him, dulling the morning’s gloss. ‘Did she say where she was going or when she’d be back?’
Sandy gave one of her neat little shoulder lifts. ‘I saw her leave something on Bry—on your desk. Then she just said goodbye.’
‘Okay. Thanks.’ The niggle morphed and kicked and weighed like lead in his gut. He headed to his office.
‘Did you sack her?’
He turned in his doorway to stare at Sandy. ‘Why would you ask that?’
She sipped the froth on her coffee, watching him. ‘It’s just that she took Smiley with her.’