After Ariel: It started as a game by Diana Hockley Read Free Book Online Page A

a rapist. If she was willing, well...He smiled as he read the message in her eyes.  
    He had no intention of following up with Ariel. He’d play around tonight and then head home to his unit in the morning.  He had rehearsals next day, the concert that night. The new young conductor leading could be interesting. He didn’t know Lancelot McPherson, son of the mighty Sir James, but from all accounts, a bit of a ‘Jack the Lad’ underneath his sophisticated exterior. Could be fun!
    He glanced around for a serviette and Ariel, flushing, dived for the paper ones her mother kept in a drawer and held out the box. He took a couple and leaned back in the chair. ‘What are you doing at college?’
    Ariel almost rested her elbows on the table, but laid her arms along it instead. ‘I’m going to study Animal Care next year at Tafe. I always wanted to be a vet. My uncle was a vet, but he was, like, doing horses and cows, big animals, like, you know?’ She laughed. ‘He ended up working at Taronga Zoo and he did everything.’
    Dingo realised an apparent absence in the household. ‘You haven’t got a pet?’
    Ariel swallowed hard. ‘Our dog died a couple of weeks ago. He was sixteen and mum won’t get another one. I had pet rats a few years ago, but after they died, I wasn’t allowed to have anymore.’ She pouted. ‘I always looked after them and everything, but I had to keep them away from everyone else.’ Memories chased Ariel’s play-girl persona away, revealing the thirteen year old she’d been once and deep down, remained.
    Turned on by her gorgeous complexion, soft expression and full lips, Dingo speculated how far he could go with his plans. Long dark eyelashes swept her cheeks, hiding the tears he guessed were pooling in her eyes. His eyes swept over her full breasts, then up to her face. The scent of her perfume drowned his senses; he fought the urge to pounce. It was too soon. Perhaps later they could play a game... ‘Your food will get cold.’
    She flushed, and forgetting to use her utensils, picked up a piece of fish and held it between her hands. He pushed down the surge of anger, reminding himself that it was not his place to correct her. He looked down at the remaining fish and chips on his plate and flicked the chips around with his fork, panicking. Odd number! Seven chips left... Surreptitiously, he cut one in half. Phew, now eight. ‘Can you bung this in the microwave, love?’
    Her dimples flashed as she picked up his plate and flitted across the room. ‘Only be a minute. So tell me about yourself? Like, what about the muso stuff?’
    He paused, remembering the screaming, the wooden spoon slapping around his head and shoulders, the whiff of rum and bared teeth. Practice. You’ll practice eight hours a day or you know what’ll happen! A locked door, no food or water for as long as she felt like it. School lessons into the night. Anger surged through him. He fisted his hands under the table, willing himself to calm down. One, two, three... as he reached ten, something pinged behind him. He came to and realised Ariel was staring at him, eyes wide, as she brought his plate back to the table.
    ‘Sorry.’ He reached out and rubbed her arm gently. ‘Bad memories.’ He smiled despite his pain, as she put the plate on the table and picked up his fork to spear the last of his chips.
    ‘She was strict then, your mum?’ Ariel carefully placed her utensils together and rested her chin on her hands, gazing at him sympathetically.
    ‘Yeah, you could say that. I got a beating if I didn’t practice long enough.’
    ‘That’s sad. So where do you live?’
    ‘In Sydney,’ he lied. ‘I’m only up here for a short time, so I’ll stay at the pub for now.’ He dabbed his lips with the serviette, folded it and placed it on his empty plate. Ariel leaped to her feet, swept their plates up and carried them to the sink, where she rinsed them and put them into the dishwasher, before examining the contents of