‘You will?’ Her heart missed a beat. ‘Holiday?’ The question slipped out. She hadn’t meant to show an interest, to encourage him in any way.
‘Partly work, partly pleasure. I have business interests in Melbourne. And a wedding to attend. I also own a sheep station in the Western District of Victoria, about three hours from Melbourne. I’ll be looking after the property while my manager’s on his honeymoon.’
She had the strangest sinking feeling. A sense of fate, inevitability... almost impending doom. As she gulped, fretfully trying to dismiss it, he asked her, ‘Whereabouts in Australia do you live?’
Heat prickled along her cheeks. ‘Melbourne.’ She grimaced inwardly as she heard the husky tightness in her voice. She’d meant to toss off the answer with a careless air of unconcern, showing him that it was neither here nor there to her that they were both heading in the same direction.
‘Well, what do you know?’ She could feel his eyes boring into her averted profile, feel the wheels turning over in his mind, sense the glow of self-satisfied speculation in his eyes.
She felt an overwhelming urge to cut him off at the knees. If he imagined she was going to give him her address...agree to see him back in Australia...
‘I’m needed back home urgently.’ Her eyes were cool, her tone brusque. ‘I’m going to have my time cut out for me when I get back.’
‘Er...family problems? Illness?’ he ventured.
‘It’s my—’ She broke off with a frown. Her sister wouldn’t relish having her personal affairs discussed with a complete stranger. She’d hate it.
Poor Sally hadn’t even wanted to discuss her marital woes with her—her own sister. For months she’d denied even having any problems, making all the excuses in the world for her husband’s wild, selfish excesses. Until they’d become too difficult to hide or to bear. And by then Claire had been half a world away, working in London, only able to help by sending money—enough to save the power and phone being cut off—and offering support from a distance.
‘Do you mind if we talk about something else?’ Or not talk at all, her eyes told him with a frosty glare.
‘By all means.’ He didn’t even miss a beat. ‘You’ll also be looking for a new job when you get home...you said? An accounting job.’ He paused. ‘You can’t go back to your old firm?’
She drew in a deep, quivering breath. ‘No.’ Nigel had made that impossible. Even though based in London, Nigel, as a partner of the prestigious international firm, would be visiting the Melbourne office from time to time. He could even be transferred there for a spell, as she had been to London. Only she hadn’t lasted in the London office for her planned six months... thanks to Nigel.
‘I don’t know what I’m going to do yet,’ she said rather snappily. It might be hard to find another job with a major accounting firm in Melbourne. Especially if Nigel got nasty and spread the word around that she wasn’t reliable—couldn’t hold down a job. He was capable of it. He saw himself as a suitor scorned. Closing his mind to the fact that he’d been unfaithful to her. ‘The girl didn’t mean a thing to me,’ had been his pathetic defence. It was obvious that neither had his brand-new fiancée.
She was relieved when the hotel came into view at last. Never had the deep pink walls and canvas awnings looked more welcome.
‘Have a good trip back,’ she said carelessly as she bundled Holly through the glass doors, which Adam Tate sprang forward to hold open for her. She didn’t mention his visit to Melbourne, hoping he’d take the hint that she had no wish to see him again.
He was far too full of himself. Far too good-looking. Too sexy. Too charming. Too disgustingly complacent. He was just like Nigel. He thought himself irresistible.
The baby was crying in earnest now. If Adam Tate had an answering comment, she didn’t hear it as she dashed across the hotel lobby and up the stairs, not wanting to wait around for the lift and give him a chance to catch up with her.
She had absolutely no wish in the world to see him ever again.
It was that same night that everything blew up in her face.
After putting Holly and the baby to bed and waiting for a while until both were sleeping peacefully, she seized her chance to slip up to the rooftop garden to breathe in some fresh evening air before returning to her own room next door to theirs.
There was a stunning sunset. The graceful spires and domes of Venice rose in stark black outline against the blood-red sky. It reminded her of what the dark-eyed Englishman, Adam Tate, had said—You should be watching the sunset with a man...
She stirred restlessly. And wished suddenly that she’d never come up here...wished in the next breath that she’d never met him. He was everything she despised in a man. And yet—
She heard a sound behind her. The hairs at her nape lifted. It couldn’t be...him?
‘Claire! I thought I might find you up here.’
A familiar English voice...but not his. She swung round, her lips parting in surprise as she saw a bulky figure take shape in the gathering dusk.
It was Holly’s father, Hugo Dann. Her employer. Still dressed as he’d been when he and his wife had sallied off earlier to a cocktail party and dinner at the Gritti Palace. Except for his jacket, which he’d discarded somewhere on the way up.
She flicked her tongue over her lips. ‘Mr Dann! Did—did you forget something? The children are asleep,’ she added quickly, in case he thought she was neglecting her duties.
‘I know—I just looked in on them.’ He sauntered closer. ‘I decided not to stay for the dinner because I wanted to go through some notes before tomorrow. My wife’s coming back later with friends.’
Her skin prickled. She had the feeling that he was telling her about his wife for a reason. To let her know they weren’t likely to be disturbed? She swallowed. All men are not like Nigel, you fool. But the way he was looking at her...and she could smell whisky on his breath.
‘I’d better get back to my room,’ she said a trifle breathlessly. He’d never try anything there—her room was right next door to the children’s room. And she could lock her door.
‘Wait! Don’t go...’ He caught her arm as she tried to slip past him. ‘Don’t let me frighten you away, Claire. Stay and enjoy this glorious sunset.’
She had a fleeting vision of Adam Tate’s face nodding sagely, his eyes glinting with laughter... mocking her. It piqued her no end.
‘I—I’ve seen it! It—it was much better earlier...’ She looked pointedly down at his hand. Why didn’t he let her go? She tried to pull away. ‘Please, Mr Dann,’ she begged, when his grip tightened. ‘I want to go.’
‘You’re a very sexy woman, Claire.’ His voice, she noted in dismay, had thickened. ‘You shouldn’t tempt a man by being so...alluring.’
She gasped. He was blaming her for his pathetic weakness? How like Nigel he was! ‘I couldn’t help it, Claire. She was such a seductive little witch. Any man would have been tempted. It didn’t mean a thing...honestly. A moment’s stupid weakness, darling. It won’t happen again.’ Until the next time. She hadn’t given him the chance.
‘Would you kindly let go of my arm?’ She grated the words, her face twisting in contempt, to show him that she was deadly serious.
‘Just one kiss, Claire, love.’ His whisky-tinged breath assailed her nostrils, causing her to catch her breath in repulsion. ‘It won’t hurt anyone. Venice is the city of romance, remember...and you’re here all alone. It’s not fair. I can’t let you go home without at least a—’
‘No! Please, Mr Dann...’ She was angry—disgusted—rather