Book Debut: An Unlikely Pair by Monya Clayton

Our second book debut today is An Unlikely Pair by Monya Clayton!  Check it out here!

Back Cover




Two people can hardly be more different. Jason Gillet is a ruthless businessman to whom money is the most important thing in the world. Lisa Forrest is a gentle, plain, working girl, president of the local environment committee, and to her trust is the most important thing in the world. She cannot trust this man.

She knows she isnā€™t pretty, so he canā€™t possibly be attracted to her. Then why does he constantly seek her company? Does he want her to compromise her principles, come down on his side when his latest project endangers a virgin wetland?

He learns too much about her for her comfort. Yet she knows nothing about him. And if she does discover the secrets of his past, will the knowledge be too much for a tender hearted woman to bear?

Excerpt




Jason stopped walking and turned to face her. ā€œSo much for trust. Whatā€™s your problem with Finch Creek? Any endangered species?ā€

ā€œNo. None that we know of.ā€ Lisa swallowed and met his eyes, light grey in the darkness. ā€œItā€™s just that the area is one of the few that havenā€™t been touched by farming or development. Itā€™s a water-bird and amphibian habitat.ā€ She drew a deep breath of sea air. ā€œJason, what do you intend to do there?ā€

ā€œDonā€™t worry before you have to. I only bought it because the land was comparatively cheap. Right now I have no plans for it. But down the track I can see a marina. It joins onto the main river.ā€

She shook her head. ā€œBefore you build, a full environmental impact study must be done.ā€

ā€œListen, Lisa. The Coast population is growing all the time. Thereā€™s no way that land will stay untouched.ā€ His voice was hard. Perhaps it was unconsciously that he pressed her fingers more tightly to his arm.

ā€œIt must. It can.ā€ And then, ā€œI ā€“ we are bound to oppose you on that.ā€

ā€œGoing to tell the committee, are you?ā€

She shook her head. ā€œIt doesnā€™t seem right to use information Iā€™ve gained by accident.ā€ She gazed at him, not knowing how large her dark eyes looked in the faint light of the moon. ā€œBut the problem now is that I do know.ā€

ā€œAnd youā€™d use the information against me?ā€ His voice was harsh, yet he still held her arm.

ā€œNot against you personally. But against development when we learn officially what form it will take. Iā€™d have no choice.ā€ Her glasses misted; it must be the sea spray. ā€œItā€™s testing our friendship early, isnā€™t it? Developer against greenie. Can we survive it?ā€

ā€œI said we could, if we acted like mature people.ā€ He patted her arm, again not knowing he did it. ā€œMaybe youā€™re right about trust. Maybe this is where it starts.ā€

Behind him two shadows crept forward, out from the darkness under a she-oak. Lisa, startled, stared at them. They were teenagers, boys in old clothes, one tall and thin, the other stocky. Jason looked at her face then turned slowly around. He freed her fingers from his arm as he moved. He didnā€™t seem surprised.

The lanky one spoke. ā€œCome over here out of the light, mister, or we throw this at your girlfriend.ā€

This was a long bladed kitchen knife. The other boy pointed a shorter model in their direction. Lisa gasped, almost screamed. She pressed both hands to her mouth to choke it back.

Jason seemed to freeze for a second. Then he ordered her softly, ā€œDo nothing, unless I tell you.ā€

She whispered, ā€œDonā€™tā€¦ā€ But he had already taken a step toward them.

He studied them briefly. ā€œI suppose you want my wallet.ā€

ā€œYeah,ā€ snarled the thin boy. ā€œWalk this way slow and chuck it under the tree. Her purse, too.ā€ He swished the knife through the air. ā€œAnd donā€™t yell or nothing.ā€

ā€œShe doesnā€™t have any money in her purse.ā€ Jason sauntered toward them as he spoke, reaching for his hip pocket. Then, before the movement was complete, he suddenly charged forward, turned sideways and thrust his shoulder into the boyā€™s chest.

The impact jarred the knife from the boyā€™s hand and knocked him backward. Even as he toppled, Jason seized his arm and shoved him at his partner. The shorter boy wobbled on his feet, swore, and swiped his knife in Jasonā€™s direction.

Jason dropped to one knee and the knife passed harmlessly over his head. Then he surged back to his feet and deliberately kicked his attacker in the groin. The boy screeched, doubled up, and the knife fell. Jason kicked it away.

The taller one was back on his feet. He scrabbled in the grass and retrieved his own weapon.

Lisa screamed in earnest, but Jason had seen. He stepped up to the boy, lunged sideways, then brought the edge of his hand down on the otherā€™s wrist in a vicious chop. His victim cried out in pain, grabbed at his arm, and the knife hit the ground again.

Jason planted his shoe on the blade. He breathed hard. His voice cut like a whiplash. ā€œGet back to your squat. I wonā€™t call the police this time. But Iā€™ve seen your faces and I wonā€™t forget them.ā€ He moved forward, pushed both boys onto the footpath. ā€œI said, get going!ā€

They did, the thin one stumbling, holding his wrist, and the other still crouched and groaning. Jason watched them until they were only shapes that weaved southward along the esplanade. When theyā€™d disappeared he went back to Lisa.

ā€œYou all right?ā€ he asked curtly.

The whole episode had lasted only a few minutes. Lisa stood shocked for a second, then clenched her fingers on Jasonā€™s forearm. ā€œYou shouldnā€™t have taken such a risk!ā€

ā€œIf thereā€™d been any risk Iā€™d have given them my wallet. But those two were amateurs.ā€ His eyes narrowed as he felt her hands shake. He wrapped his arms loosely around her shoulders. ā€œFrightened? Nothing like that ever happened to you before?ā€

ā€œNo, it hasnā€™t.ā€ Lisaā€™s hands moved up to clutch the front of his shirt. ā€œBut I was more afraid youā€™d be stabbed, hurt, than anything else.ā€ She shivered. ā€œAnd I didnā€™t help. I was useless.ā€

ā€œYouā€™d only have been in the way.ā€ Still, he held her closer.

Lisa dropped her arms to hug his waist and pressed her head into his shoulder. After a few moments she no longer trembled, though she stayed where she was. Jasonā€™s body was solid, comfortable, and his heart beat steadily under her ear. It was nice to be held. She felt safe. Jason, for all his hardness, she could trust not to hurt her. She felt his square hand touch her hair, stroke itā€¦ then lift away.

ā€œThis is very pleasant. But itā€™s for the wrong reasons.ā€ He took her upper arms and held her away from him. ā€œIā€™ll take you home.ā€

She lifted her chin. ā€œI didnā€™t mean to cling.ā€ She straightened her glasses on her nose.

ā€œIt was a natural reaction to fright.ā€ He shrugged. ā€œAnd youā€™re a woman and Iā€™m a man, so it felt good. Thatā€™s all.ā€ He turned away and back-tracked a couple of steps, searched briefly until he found the two knives the boys had dropped. He shoved them into a trouser pocket. Then he cupped her elbow and guided her back along the footpath.

On the esplanade pavement, out from under the palm trees, Lisa blinked at the bright lights and strolling people. She felt disoriented, as if she had been to a foreign place and now returned. Jason pushed the knives into a locked rubbish bin, and she saw his profile. His face was set into its mask.

They walked to the car in silence, and she felt heat rise in her cheeks. Had she disgusted him? First she had acted like a coward and then cuddled him like a child. And holding her lumpy body couldnā€™t really have been pleasant for him. Desperate to defuse the tension, she said the first thing that came into her head.

ā€œThose boysā€”you told them to go back to their squat. Do you know them?ā€

ā€œNo,ā€ he answered shortly. ā€œBut they were street kids.ā€ He unlocked the car and held the door for her.

Lisa climbed in, looked up at him. ā€œHow could you tell?ā€

He stalked around to the driverā€™s side and dropped heavily into his seat. He stared ahead through the windscreen. ā€œI know. Their clothes, their smell, the look in their eyes. Everything.ā€ His hands fisted on the rim of the steering wheel. ā€œI was one of them, once.ā€

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