But already she could feel her brain whirring to fretful life, spinning thoughts…throwing up questions…
About…Seth.
And that kiss…
It was so easy now, in the middle of the night, to let her mind zoom in on the details of that kiss, to live it again in close focus.
She could feel again the intimate brush of his lips against hers, the imprint of his hand at the small of her back, the nerve-tingly pleasure and the rush of delicious heat that had flooded her, the astonishing need, the glorious, overwhelming longing…
Good grief. She was going mad, wasn’t she? She had to be a little crazy to get into such a fever about one kiss.
From the start, she’d sensed she should be wary of Seth Reardon. He was incredibly sexy, despite or perhaps because of his remote, brooding air, but she’d picked up all kinds of signals that he was dangerous, too.
Rachel had been so cagey about him. Even the woman at the Tamundra pub had hinted that he was trouble. And on reflection Amy had to admit she’d had difficulty thinking straight from the moment she’d met him.
Thank heavens she hadn’t thrown herself at him tonight.
The man was a disturbing mystery.
He’d claimed that his heart had been broken, but it hadn’t happened over Rachel.
And yet…he’d made love to Rachel and she’d thought he was The One…and he’d fathered Bella, and now Rachel was dead…but Seth wasn’t particularly upset about it.
None of it made sense. Had the man no feelings?
Was there a cold unemotional side to him that Amy hadn’t seen yet? Had Rachel known that, and sensibly kept her distance?
With a groan Amy rolled over to face the wall and thumped at her pillow. The Seth she’d seen over the past two days had given her the impression that he was warm and vulnerable—and wounded—but that didn’t sit with the alternative image of him as cold and unfeeling.
Would the real Seth Reardon please stand up?
He was a jigsaw puzzle she couldn’t solve unless she found the vital missing pieces.
She’d wanted to ask him about the woman who’d broken his heart, but she didn’t know him well enough to ask such an intimate question. She’d known him for such a short time.
Heavens, had it really only been two days?
Sighing heavily, Amy rolled the other way again and pulled the sheet around her bare shoulders. She thought about Seth’s uncle’s sad story, and she wondered how the poor man had felt when Seth’s mother—the woman he’d loved and lost—had given his name to her son.
And how had he felt years later, when his young nephew had been abandoned by that woman? He’d probably taken care of the younger Seth out of love for his brother, and a sense of duty, but it must have hurt deeply, if he’d still loved the boy’s mother, in spite of her failings.
But fancy there being two Seth Reardons. That was a surprise. That was—
Oh, my God.
Amy shot upright in the bed, her heart racing.
It was a crazy thought, but…
Was it possible…was it even remotely possible that Seth’s uncle had been Rachel’s lover?
When Seth told her that his uncle had died, she’d pictured him as an elderly man, but he needn’t have been that old.
At a guess, she would say that Seth was around thirty, and his uncle was younger than Seth’s father, so he might have been only fifty or so when Rachel met him.
She tried to imagine Rachel falling for a fifty-year-old man. He’d need to have been a well-preserved and decidedly good-looking fifty-year-old man—but he was sure to be handsome if he was related to Seth.
It was possible, wasn’t it?
Her friend had always been a little unconventional in her tastes, and the more Amy thought about it, the more it started to make sense.
Rachel was less likely to burden an older man with the news that he was about to become a father. She’d confided to Amy that her school-days had been blighted by the fact that her parents were so much older than everyone else’s folks. Kids were cruel and their barbed comments had hurt.
And if Seth’s uncle had fathered Bella, the younger Seth’s apparent lack of grief for Rachel made more sense, too.
Slowly Amy sank back onto the pillow.
Wow!
Her head reeled with the thought that the Seth she knew, the Seth who’d kissed her and sent her to the moon, might not be Bella’s father after all. It was ridiculous, but she loved the possibility that he hadn’t been Rachel’s lover.
But hang on, girl. Don’t jump to too many conclusions.
This could be wishful thinking. If Seth wasn’t Bella’s father, why hadn’t he just come out and said so? Was he trying to protect his uncle? His reputation? Was that why he’d been so negative about Rachel’s book?
Or was her new theory total rubbish?
Amy groaned. She wouldn’t be able to get any of these answers until morning, but the questions were going to keep her awake all night.
Seth woke, as he always did, at dawn and he lay very still, with his eyes closed, listening to the silence of the sleeping house and to the warbling songs of the honeyeaters in the rainforest, signalling the start of a new day.
Out of habit, he reached for the wristwatch on his bedside table and squinted at its dial. Yep. Five-twenty a.m. on the dot.
Normally he would leap out of bed. In summer, he liked to get any heavy work out of the way before the day got too hot. But in deference to his houseguests, he stayed put. They were just across the hall and the slightest sound might disturb them. No point in waking them too early.
It had made sense, he’d thought, to put Amy and Bella together in the room across the hall. If the little girl was scared during the night, Amy would be there for her.
But he couldn’t help fantasising about Amy sleeping in a room on her own…
OK, lamebrain, what could you have done? Snuck into her room? Continued on where the kiss left off? Oh, yeah. Brilliant. Then you‘d really make a dog’s breakfast of this tricky situation.
If only he could stop thinking about her. Memories of their brief kiss had haunted him all night, reappearing and expanding out of all proportion in a string of X-rated dreams.
He wasn’t sure that he could survive too many nights with Amy in his house, sleeping in her flimsy white nightdress just across the hallway. He’d be a pile of cinders before the time was up.
Problem was, the wanting wasn’t only about physical desire.
He’d found himself enjoying simply being with Amy…hanging out…talking with her and listening to the warmth in her voice…watching the changing moods in her lovely brown eyes…admiring the sweet and tender way she cared for Bella.
For years, Seth had avoided this level of interest in any one woman, but Amy Ross had slipped quietly under his radar. She was so easy to be with and there was something delightfully refreshing about her. He liked her and he desired her, and he couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Damn it…He had to stop.
He knew he and Amy had no future. Hadn’t he learned anything from Jennifer?
His gaze flickered again to the nightstand and he saw the fancy wristwatch that had been Jennifer’s last gift, the precious farewell gift she given him before she went back to New York.