All the same, he was aware that spending time with Fliss was probably not the most sensible thing he’d done in his life. She disturbed him in ways Diane never had, and, although she was not conventionally beautiful, her creamy features had a warmth and sensuality that was far sexier than mere good looks could ever be.
Strictly speaking, he supposed, trying to downplay his attraction, she was slightly overweight. Her breasts were full, possibly too full, and the generous swell of her hips gave a distinctly provocative curve to her bottom. Yet in low-rise pink cut-offs, with white daisies hand-embroidered along the seams, and a matching cropped T-shirt that exposed her navel, she reminded him of things that, in his condition, were better forgotten.
‘What’s wrong?’
Predictably, Amy broke the uneasy silence that had fallen, and Matt realised that it was up to him to rescue the situation.
‘Nothing’s wrong,’ he assured her lightly. ‘I’ll get my shoes.’
Although he thought about changing his shorts for jeans, it seemed a pointless exercise. It wasn’t as if by changing his clothes he was going to change his feelings towards Fliss, and she was unlikely to be impressed by his judgement, either way.
By the time he came back downstairs, Fliss had washed up Amy’s glass and his breakfast dishes, but he still couldn’t say how she really felt about this outing. It was obvious she hadn’t wanted to disappoint Amy, but taking him along…
That had definitely been an afterthought.
He backed the four-by-four out of the garage and indicated that they should get in while he locked up the house. But, as he was closing the front door, the phone rang.
Cursing, he opened the door again and was about to answer it when it occurred to him that it might be Diane. It was the weekend, after all. Perhaps she’d expected him to invite her down for a visit.
He closed the door again, inserting his key in the lock with grim determination. He didn’t have time to talk to her, he told himself firmly, ignoring the fact that he owed her a call. Then, picking up the sports bag containing a towel and a six-pack of diet cola, he ran down the steps to where the Land Cruiser was waiting.
He’d half expected Fliss to put Amy in the front. Anything to avoid another loaded conversation with him. But common sense had prevailed, and Amy was seated in the back of the vehicle, her seat-belt fastened firmly across her lap.
Fliss glanced at him curiously as he got into the driving seat beside her. ‘Wasn’t that your phone?’
He didn’t look at her as he started the car. ‘So?’
‘So—oughtn’t you to have answered it?’
Matt’s mouth compressed. ‘Probably,’ he agreed carelessly, putting the heavy vehicle into gear and turning down the drive. ‘Where are we going?’
He was aware of Fliss giving him a studied look, but it was Amy who answered him. ‘We usually go to Cobbleton,’ she said, leaning forward to tap her mother on the shoulder. ‘Isn’t that right, Mum?’
Fliss shrugged. ‘Maybe Mr Quinn would prefer to go somewhere else,’ she replied, that prim note of disapproval Matt found most challenging in her voice.
‘I don’t know this area at all,’ he declared, glancing over his shoulder at his other passenger. ‘But Cobbleton sounds good to me. You’ll have to give me directions how to get there.’
‘Oh—’ Amy put a finger to her lips. ‘Well, I know it’s not that far.’ She paused. ‘Perhaps Mummy could tell you which way to go. She knows, don’t you, Mum?’
He heard Fliss give a small sigh. ‘I’m sure Mr Quinn would rather go somewhere he knows,’ she said stiffly. ‘He’s not that unfamiliar with the area. His fianceée’s parents live in the village.’
‘What’s a fianceée?’ asked Amy innocently before Matt could reply, and Fliss turned to give her daughter a tight smile.
‘That needn’t concern you—’
‘I don’t have a fianceée,’ Matt overrode her grimly, and then, as they reached the crossroads on the outskirts of the village, ‘Which way?’
‘Cobbleton is that way.’
Fliss waved a dismissive hand in the direction she wanted him to take, but he could feel the censure oozing from her pores. It annoyed the hell out of him. Dammit, the reason why he hadn’t answered his phone was nothing to do with her. Because that was what this was all about. He just knew it. Did she suspect it might have been Diane? Of course she did. But why the hell did she care what Diane thought when the other woman clearly had no such inhibitions about her?
For a while they travelled in silence. A signpost at the next junction offered the information that Lyme Regis and Honiton were in one direction, while Brightsea and Cobbleton were in the other, so there was no argument over which road to take. Even Amy had subsided into silence, and he guessed his angry outburst had frightened her a little.
That annoyed him more than it should. He and Amy had got along so well up to that point, and he didn’t like to think that she blamed herself for his attitude towards her mother.
Taking a deep breath, he glanced over his shoulder again and said pleasantly, ‘Tell me about Cobbleton. I’ve never heard of it. I guess it isn’t a big place.’
Amy hesitated, but shyness was not her strong suit. ‘No, it’s just small,’ she agreed. ‘But we like it, don’t we, Mum? We’ve been lots of times.’
‘Sounds good.’ Matt concentrated on the road, determinedly not looking at Fliss. If she wanted to sulk, that was her problem. ‘Does it get many visitors?’
‘Some,’ said Amy thoughtfully. ‘But we don’t bother with them. We use’ly just go down to the beach, don’t we, Mum?’
Fliss gave a noncommittal shrug and Matt stifled an oath. This was going to be some outing if she refused to speak unless she was spoken to. Dammit, couldn’t she see that he was making an effort here?
‘Do you swim?’ he asked now, looking deliberately at her, and Fliss was obliged to acknowledge his question.
‘You can, if you want to.’
‘That’s not what I asked.’
She shifted a little uncomfortably in her seat. ‘Not if Amy and I are on our own,’ she replied unwillingly. ‘She can swim, but the beach drops away quite steeply once you’re in the water. I’d be afraid she’d get into difficulties and I couldn’t get to her.’
‘Right.’ Matt was grateful to have got more than a monosyllabic answer at last. ‘So—are there no lifeguards?’
Fliss gave him an incredulous look. ‘At Cobbleton? It’s a fishing village, Mr Quinn. Not Bondi Beach!’
‘It’s Matt,’ he said evenly. Then, ‘There are lifeguards all over the place, not just on Bondi Beach.’
‘Which I suppose you know all about,’ said Fliss shortly, and he raised a modest eyebrow.
‘That there are lifeguards all over the place?’ he asked innocently. ‘Oh, yeah, I—’
‘I meant Bondi Beach,’ she corrected him, even though Matt was fairly sure she’d known exactly what he was doing. ‘I expect you’ve travelled all over the world.’
‘Well, not all,’ he said mildly. ‘But I have been to Oz. Have you?’
Fliss snorted in disbelief, but once again it was Amy who intervened. ‘What’s Oz?’
‘Australia,’ said Matt and Fliss in unison, and then she exchanged a reluctant smile with him. ‘People call it Oz because it’s easier to say than Australia,’ he added for the child’s benefit, giving her mother a conciliatory look. ‘Bondi Beach is a famous