The Secretary's Secret

They both promptly stared down at the ground.

‘No ants,’ Kit final y said. ‘C’mon, let’s get this picnic on the road. The fish is nearly done.’

Ten minutes later they were settled in the chairs, plates balanced on knees, eating fish, potatoes, barbecued corncobs drenched in butter and salad.

‘Heck, Kit, for someone who won’t cook you’ve done a damn fine job.’

Kit licked butter from her fingers. ‘I have, haven’t I?’ But when she realized Alex fol owed the way her tongue caught the trickle of butter from the back of her hand, saw the way his eyes darkened, her stomach clenched. She grabbed a serviette and wiped her fingers instead. She left the rest of her corn untouched on her plate. Alex wrenched his gaze back to his plate.

The memory of their kiss burned between them.

That kiss, what did it mean? Alex hadn’t planned on fatherhood, but it had found him anyway. He hadn’t planned on any kind of romantic relationship either, but…

She refused to finish that thought.

She shifted on her chair. Could she blame pregnancy hormones for the way her heart crashed about in her chest whenever she locked eyes with Alex?

Her lips twisted as she speared a slice of cucumber. Not a chance. That was due to hormones she’d had long before she’d ever fal en pregnant.

‘The fishing this afternoon, Kit, it was fun.’

‘Yeah.’ She smiled. ‘I have so many great memories of sitting on my rock—fishing, dreaming, hanging out there with my friends or my mum and grandma. It reminds me of summer holidays and endless afternoons and laughter and al good things.’

He stopped eating to stare at her. ‘I’m honoured you shared it with me.’

Regardless of what happened, she knew this afternoon would always be precious to her. And what she’d just said to Alex, al of that was true. ‘Do you have a place like my rock?’

He cut into a potato, but he didn’t eat it. ‘No,’ he final y said.

His face didn’t shutter closed. She took that as a good sign. ‘What did you like doing with your parents when you were young?’ She swal owed as a different question occurred to her. ‘Are your parents stil alive?’

‘They died when I was twelve. Car accident.’

There was no mistaking the closing up of his face now. Her heart burned. Her fingers shook and she had to lay her cutlery down. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘That must’ve been awful.’

‘Not your fault, Kit.’

His words, his half-shrug…the fact he ate a piece of fish—fish she’d cooked for him—gave her the courage to continue. ‘Who did you live with afterwards?’

‘My grandfather. He was as rich as Croesus and as bitter as battery acid.’

Uttered in a flat tone—fact with no emotion. Kit abandoned the rest of her food. ‘That’s when you moved to Vaucluse?’

He nodded.

The exclusive address hadn’t shielded him from life’s harsher realities. She could sense that much.

‘He’d disowned my mother when she married my father. Apparently a motor mechanic wasn’t good enough for the daughter of one of Australia’s leading politicians.’

She shuddered. Alex’s grandfather sounded control ing and vengeful. It wasn’t the kind of home she’d ever want her child being sent to. ‘If he disowned your mother, why did he take you in?’

‘The papers got hold of the story, and to him appearances were everything.’ His lips twisted into the mockery of a smile that made a chil creep up her arms. ‘He had to at least be seen doing the right thing.’ He threw off his smile with a shrug. ‘I’d have been better off in a foster home.’

This was the man who’d raised Alex throughout his teenage years? More pieces of the puzzle fel into place. Kit wasn’t prepared for the surge of anger that shot through her on Alex’s behalf, though. The people who should’ve looked out for him, loved him

—his grandfather, his ex-wife—they’d betrayed him utterly.

She didn’t blame him for guarding his heart.

Her chest ached; her eyes ached. Did he have to keep guarding it against their baby, though?

‘I left when I was sixteen. I found work as a builder’s labourer.’

builder’s labourer.’

And he’d built an empire on his own. But that empire of his, it wouldn’t have made up for al he’d lost when his parents died. With an effort, she swal owed back the lump in her throat. She was glad he’d given her a glimpse into his past, but she wanted tonight to be about happy memories. ‘When they were alive, what did you like to do with your mum and dad?’

Enough light filtered into her garden for her to see that her question stumped him. She had a feeling that Alex had shut himself off from his past to protect himself from al the bad memories, but in the process he’d shut out al the good memories too.

‘I…’

She could see that he struggled. ‘Did your dad like to kick a bal around the garden with you? Did your mum make the best birthday cakes?’

One corner of his mouth kicked up. ‘Mum couldn’t bake to save her life.’ He sat higher in his chair and grinned. It made him look younger, wiped al the cares from his face for a moment. It stole her breath.

‘We used to play this strange cricket game with a tennis racquet and a bal .’

‘We used to play that game on the beach!’ She clapped her hands, absurdly pleased at this point of connection. ‘We cal ed it French cricket. Though I don’t know how French it was.’

‘On the weekends Dad would tinker with the car and he’d let me help. He taught me al the names of the tools.’

She could imagine a younger version of Alex—

dark-haired and scrawny—handing his father tools, studying engine components in that serious, steady way of his. If they had a son, would he look like Alex?

Share his mannerisms?

‘Mum’s favourite song was by the Bay City Rol ers and she’d sing it al the time. Sometimes Dad and I would join in and…’ he stil ed with his fork halfway to his mouth ‘…we’d end up on the ground laughing.

Mum would tickle me.’ His grin suddenly widened.

‘And Dad would always say that we were in for an early night.’ He glanced at Kit, his eyes dancing. ‘I now know what that was al about.’

‘They sound like fun.’ An ache stretched through her chest. ‘They sound as if they loved each other very much.’

‘I think they did.’

Don’t go fooling yourself into thinking you can get that kind of happy ever after with Alex. If it weren’t for the fact that she was pregnant, Alex would’ve left two weeks ago.

Without a backward glance.

He stil might yet.

The only happy ever after she could hope for was Alex realizing that he could be a good father, that he would be there for her child. Their child.

‘I did have a place!’ He swung to her. ‘A place like your rock. It was a tree in the back garden—a huge tree!’

She could tel he was talking about his garden in the western suburbs and not the one in Vaucluse.

‘There was a particular branch I always sat on. It was the best place. Mum would bring me out drinks and biscuits. You’re right, Kit, food out of doors does taste better.’ He set his now empty plate on the table and glanced around her garden. ‘You know, I like the idea of having a garden.’

Her breath caught. Enough to give up his penthouse apartment with its harbour views? She crossed her fingers. ‘Al kids should have a garden.’

She tried to keep her voice casual, which was nearly impossible when this al mattered so much.

‘Yeah.’ Physical y he was present, but she had a feeling he was a mil ion miles away.

‘Alex?’

‘Hmm?’

‘If you decided that you did want to be an active, involved father, what are the kinds of things you’d like to do with your child? Hypothetical y speaking, of course.’ She added the last in a rush. She didn’t want to scare him off. She didn’t want him clamming up again. She just wanted to plant the idea firmly—

very firmly—into his mind.

‘I…’ He dragged a hand back through his hair, shrugged. ‘The fishing this afternoon was fun.’

‘Nuh-uh, I bags the fishing. You come up with your own activities, buster.’

He chuckled but she heard the strain behind it. He swung to her. ‘Kit, I’ve by no means decided—’

‘I know.’ She refused let him finish, wouldn’t let him talk himself out of the thought of becoming a father. She touched his arm. ‘But wil you promise me to at least consider the possibility? Just to…think about it?’

‘Kit, I—’

‘Kit, I—’

He broke off and dragged a hand back through his hair. ‘I’l think about it. But I’m not making any promises.’

‘Thank you.’

He rose and took her now empty plate. ‘Would you like some more?’

She shook her head.

‘I’l get started on the dishes then.’

Kit watched him take their plates inside, her hand resting across her stomach, her fingers crossed.

Three days later Alex wasn’t any closer to knowing if he could manage the kind of involvement Kit wanted from him.

Whenever he thought of that baby girl at the Rock Pool, though, a surge of longing cracked his chest wide open. Longing that had grown into a persistent ache.

He didn’t know what it meant. He’d discounted children and family for ever.

But Kit was carrying his child. Could he just walk away?

He swal owed, remembering the first moment Chad had been placed in his arms and—

His mind shied away from the memory. Thinking about Chad, he couldn’t do it. It hurt too much.

Thinking about Chad made him want to throw his head back and howl.

He rol ed his shoulders, shoved his thoughts aside. He hadn’t signed up for any of this!

When he half-turned from the house to seize the crowbar Kit appeared at the very edge of his peripheral vision, sitting in her Cape Cod chair.

She’d gone stil , her fingers no longer flying across the keyboard of her laptop and suddenly he realized she’d ceased working to watch him. He swal owed and forced himself back to face the house. He pretended not to have noticed, told himself it didn’t matter, pretended it didn’t affect him.

Impossible! Al the muscles in the lower half of his body bunched and hardened. Her gaze had the physical presence of a warm caress, like a soft finger tracing wil ing flesh.

He gritted his teeth and ordered himself to focus on the job at hand. Several weatherboards on her cottage needed replacing before he could paint.

With crowbar primed, he started prising one off, steadily working his way along its length.

He’d wanted to refit the bathroom before he’d moved to the outside of Kit’s house, but the hardware store was stil awaiting delivery on the shower unit he’d ordered. The supplier was out of stock. He grimaced. He’d have to hide that particular bil from Kit when it arrived. The unit had cost a bomb and Kit would have a pink fit if she ever found out.

He set his jaw. The unit was top-of-the-line, non-slip, non-breakable glass, and easy-clean. The fibreglass base and interior meant no grouting. Kit had heaved a sigh of gratitude when he’d mentioned that particular fact. He figured she’d be busy enough with the baby when it came without adding a high-maintenance bathroom to her list of chores.

He wondered if she’d let him hire her a housekeeper or a cleaner.

She won’t need a cleaner if you’re around to help her.

If…?

The nails, rusted into the timber frame of the house, screeched as he worked the crowbar. Final y the weatherboard came free and he sidestepped it as it clattered to the ground.

If only he could sidestep other issues as easily.

From behind, he heard Kit’s quick intake of breath. He glanced over his shoulder to find her gaze glued to his butt. She licked her lips, her eyes dark.

She leant forward. He went hot, tight and rigid as rock.

He and Kit, they had chemistry. Maybe…

Her gaze lifted with a slowness and thoroughness that had him biting back an oath and fighting the desire to stride over there, drag her mouth up to his and have—

‘Oh!’

He blinked. Kit stared at him, her cheeks a deep, dark pink. She swal owed convulsively and then jammed her canvas hat onto her head.

jammed her canvas hat onto her head.

He swore. He tried to loosen his grip on the crowbar. Hanging out with Kit like this—it was murder! For Pete’s sake, why had she taken to working outside anyway?

She’d said it was to enjoy the sun. He’d told her that she just enjoyed watching him slave away. His teeth ground together. He’d been joking.

It didn’t feel like a joke any more.

He wiped his brow on his sleeve and let loose with another curse—low so she wouldn’t hear it. Who was he kidding? He couldn’t stay here in Tuncurry permanently. Kit deserved something more than he could ever offer. If he stayed here she would never get it.

What about the baby?

Could he…?

Yes!

His lips thinned. Probably not. He knew Kit was getting her hopes up—hopes that he would be some kind of father to her baby, a better father than hers had been. The thought of dashing those hopes made him want to throw up.

He swal owed back the bile. No throwing up.

No hiding from the facts either. Darkness threatened the edges of his consciousness. He let it in to swamp his soul, smother whatever hopes he dared to entertain. The man he’d had to become to survive his grandfather’s rule was not the kind of man who could make marriage and family work. His brief and disastrous marriage had proved that. His grandfather’s tyrannical bitterness had kil ed something essential in him. Something soft that was necessary to make relationships work. That was al there was to it.

If he made promises to Kit—stayed and tried to build a life with her—eventual y she’d come to see him for who he real y was.

And then she’d leave him, divorce him…and she’d take his child away.

He had to stay strong. Damage control—that was al he could do now.

‘You must be ready for a break, Alex. You’ve barely stopped working al day.’ Ice chinked invitingly in the jug on the table beside her. ‘At least have a drink.’

‘Just one more board to go,’ he grunted, working the crowbar again. Tomorrow, with Frank’s help, he’d replace these boards.

That would be one more job done. Kit’s house would be one step closer to being ready.

And he’d be one step closer to leaving here.

He didn’t turn as he spoke. He needed a few more minutes to find his composure, to make sure when he joined her he could resist the spel she threatened to weave around him.

No matter how hard she hoped and wished, she couldn’t make him a better man—the man she needed for her child, the kind of man who could share her life. But the thought of the child growing inside her…

Every day the evidence hit him afresh in the shape of her gently rounded abdomen, her heavy breasts.

Every day. It worried at him until he felt he had a blister on his soul.

Final y, he turned. Kit smiled, but her hand shook as she poured him a glass of fruit juice. He pressed his lips together hard. At certain moments she could make him believe this life could be his. She could make him forget what it had been like living with his grandfather, make him forget Jacqueline’s betrayal.

She could make him forget that his heart had grown as cold and hard as his grandfather’s.

It was dangerous forgetting those things.

It was dangerous believing in fairy tales.

He had to focus on what he had explicitly promised her—to get her house fixed. Nothing more.

Against his wil , his eyes travel ed to her stomach.

How hard would it be to be a part-time father? To see his child three or four times a year and make sure it had everything it needed?

To make sure Kit had what she needed?

He glanced up to find her watching him again. He swal owed and took the glass she held out, moving back a few steps. He didn’t sit in the other chair arranged so cosily next to hers. He didn’t want her sunshine-fresh scent beating at him. He wanted to keep a grasp on reality. He sure as hel didn’t want the torture of being so near and not being al owed to touch her.

Would Kit mind if he did touch her, though?

He backed up another step. Perhaps not, but if he made love to her she’d think he was ready for al this…this domesticity. He didn’t feel any readier for it than he had on the first day he’d stalked into her back garden.

back garden.

That thought almost quel ed his raging libido.

If he made love to Kit, she’d expect the works—

marriage, kids and everything that went along with it.

They couldn’t unmake the baby they’d created, but he could prevent himself from compounding the mistake.

He surveyed her over the rim of his glass. When she realized he’d caught her out staring at him again, she sent him an abashed grin. ‘I don’t get it,’

she confessed.

Al his muscles were primed for flight. ‘Get what?’

‘For the eleven months that I worked for you, Alex, you’d come into the office every day the epitome of the assured businessman…’

He relaxed a fraction. ‘And?’

‘Look, I understand your roots lie in manual labour, but…’

His gut clenched. ‘But?’ Jacqueline had hated that about him.

‘But I don’t understand how you can stil be so comfortable and capable and easy with this kind of work.’

Her admiration—admiration she didn’t even try to hide—made him stand a little tal er. He drained his juice and then shrugged. ‘It’s like riding a bicycle.’

‘Believe me, I’d wobble. I’d stay upright, but I’d wobble.’

She made it so easy to laugh.

‘Top up?’

She held up the jug and, before he knew what he was about, he found himself ensconced in the other chair, sipping more juice. ‘I have had some recent practice,’ he found himself confessing. ‘In Africa.’

She leaned forward. Her lips twitched. ‘Did your cabin fal down or something?’

He tried to warn himself that this was how her enchantments started—teasing, fun, laughter. He promised to bring a halt to it soon and get back to work. ‘How much would you laugh if I said yes?’

Her eyes danced. ‘I’d bray like a hyena, but…’

She suddenly sobered. ‘I understand you did some aid work?’

It was hardly a question, more a statement, but he nodded anyway. ‘How d’you know?’

‘The rumour mil at Hal am’s was ful of it before I left.’

‘I was part of a team that helped to build an orphanage.’ When he’d read the brochure he’d hoped that building an orphanage would help him forget Kit. And that it would help al ay some of the guilt raging through his soul.

She waved a finger at him. ‘You might like to act al hard and self-contained, Alex Hal am, but I have your number, buddy.’

He went to correct her, to tel her he was hard and heartless and that she’d be wise not to forget it, but before he could get the words out she said, ‘You’re nothing but a great big mushroom.’

That threw him. ‘Mushroom?’

She stared back at him in incomprehension for three beats, and then she chuckled. ‘Oops, marshmal ow. I meant to say marshmal ow. Baby brain, I tel you.’

He grinned. ‘Is this where I point out that hyenas don’t bray?’

‘Of course they do.’

She promptly gave her impression of a braying hyena and Alex almost fel out of his chair laughing.

‘That’s not a hyena, it’s a donkey!’

‘No, this is a donkey.’

When she gave her impression of a donkey, he lurched out of his chair to roar at ful -stretch on the ground. When he opened his eyes again he found himself staring up at an elderly lady.

Her lips twitched as she stepped over him on stil spry feet. ‘So kind of you to vacate your chair for me, young man.’

‘Hi, Grandma.’

Kit’s grandmother! Alex shot to his feet and did his best to dust himself off.

‘Alex, this is my grandmother, Patricia Rawlinson.’

‘Pleased to meet you, Mrs Rawlinson.’

‘It’s Patti, dear.’

‘Grandma, this is Alex Hal am.’

‘Ahh…’ Those piercing amber eyes—so like Kit’s

—turned to him again. ‘So you’re Alex. I’ve heard al about you.’

She said it exactly the same way Caro had on his first morning here. The col ar of his polo shirt tightened around his throat. Was she going to threaten him with a meat cleaver too?

‘I hope you mean to do the right thing by my granddaughter and great-grandchild.’

‘I…um…’ Al the fun and laughter Kit had created in the garden bare minutes ago fled now. He had a in the garden bare minutes ago fled now. He had a feeling ‘doing right’ meant more than fixing Kit’s house up.

Those amber eyes gleamed and he didn’t trust them. He didn’t trust them any more than Caro’s spitfire green. ‘I’d eventual y like to see you make an honest woman of my granddaughter.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Kit snorted. ‘The way you let Granddad final y make an honest woman of you on Mum’s twenty-first birthday.’

‘I did say eventual y, dear.’

Kit’s

grandmother

hadn’t

married

Kit’s

grandfather til …

Both Kit and her grandmother laughed at whatever they saw in his face. ‘Relax, Alex,’ Kit ordered, her smile wide enough to ease some of the tension in his shoulders. The woman was a witch!

‘Grandma’s

just

teasing.’

She

tossed

her

grandmother an affectionate grin. ‘Behave, Gran.’

‘You young ones always want to spoil my fun.

Now, Kit, dear, can you explain those extraordinary noises you were making as I came around the side of the house?’

‘I was trying to show Alex the difference between a hyena’s bray and a donkey’s bray.’

‘Hyenas don’t bray, Kit, dear, they laugh. So, how did you get on?’

‘Only Alex can answer that.’

Two sets of identical eyes turned to him for confirmation. His lips final y twitched too. He found himself inclined to warm to Kit’s grandmother for knowing the difference between a laugh and a bray.

And for having eyes identical to Kit’s. ‘She got on perfectly.’

‘Excel ent.’

It struck him that when she’d been a younger woman, Patricia Rawlinson must’ve been very beautiful. She was stil striking now and she had to be at least seventy. Stil , his col ar remained tight around his neck. Hypothetical wal s threatened to close about him. He wanted out of this garden fast.

‘I’l …um…go put the jug on.’ No doubt they had loads to talk about. He edged towards the back door.

‘Hold on a moment, young Alex.’

He almost tripped up a back step. He couldn’t remember anyone ever cal ing him young Alex in his life.

‘I’d like to invite you both to a luncheon next weekend.’

Kit groaned. Alex’s eyebrow lifted. It wasn’t the reaction he’d have expected from her. Images of meat cleavers rose in his mind. Patti might know the difference between brays and laughs, but he’d bet she had a whole lot in common with Caro too.

‘What on earth is this one for?’ Kit asked. ‘And how much wil it cost me?’

‘This one is for breast cancer, dear. A gold coin donation is al that’s required. And I’d appreciate it if you could bring a plate.’

Kit’s eyes danced when they glanced at him. ‘Alex has been threatening to give me cooking lessons.’

‘Oh, darling, if he can cook, why bother learning?’

He’d have laughed if his col ar hadn’t pul ed so tight.

‘I’l definitely come to your luncheon. Alex wil have to be a maybe. It’l depend on whether any deliveries are scheduled for that day. We’ve had a couple of delays.’

His col ar promptly loosened. Kit had given him an out.

A new sick kind of nausea fil ed him then instead.

Maybe she didn’t want him to go to this luncheon.

Why on earth would she? He was going to let her down, wasn’t he? Maybe subconsciously she sensed that?

‘Can I ask Frank and Doreen along? And Caro?’

Of course she’d like to have her friends there. He rol ed his shoulders. Maybe she’d let him tag along too if he helped her bake a cake?

For Pete’s sake! It was only a stupid luncheon.

What did he want with one of those?

‘I saw Frank and Doreen out the front so I’ve invited them already. Caro and co are always welcome.’

Alex thrust himself through the back door, but not before he heard Patti ask, ‘Alex does mean to put your house back together, doesn’t he, dear?’

‘I believe that’s the plan.’

He closed the door and made safe his escape.

That night Alex dreamed he was searching through the endless rooms of that brooding mansion, searching for Chad again, the childish laughter always just out of reach.

And, just like the other times, he jerked awake, drenched in sweat and with Chad’s name on his lips.

CHAPTER TEN

ALEX dunked his paintbrush into the can of paint and set about slapping it on the neatly sanded, newly primed weatherboards of Kit’s cottage. White paint.

One corner of his mouth kicked up. She had chosen white for the main body of the house and blue for the window and door trims. She’d snorted when he’d presented her with an array of colour cards with exotic names like fresh linen, grey gum, desert sand and sage. ‘I don’t want any of that modern nonsense, Alex. I’ve always wanted a white house with a blue trim. Ever since I was a little girl.

I’m not going to change my mind now.’

And she hadn’t.

So he was painting her house white with a blue trim, and found he was enjoying himself.

Next week he’d paint the interior—white ceilings, cream wal s. She wanted her house light and bright and airy. It was her house. He’d paint it any colour she wanted.

The new shower unit was due to arrive at the end of the week and then he could get to work on the bathroom. Once that was done, al that would be left was the nursery.

His gut clenched and his hand slowed. That would mean looking at baby stuff with Kit, wouldn’t it? He could imagine her face going al soft and misty as she looked at cribs and little blankets and changing tables with colourful mobiles. He dunked his paintbrush in the can of paint again and concentrated on transferring it to the weatherboards.

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. Kit had a way of making just about anything fun.

Besides, al that baby stuff could be ridiculously expensive. He slapped paint on with renewed vigour.

He had no intention of letting Kit pick up the tab for that.

Kit. The thought of her had images rising through him. His hand slowed, the paintbrush almost coming to a halt. Last night while he’d cooked dinner—a chore they’d taken in turns since the night of their fish barbecue—she’d laid stretched out ful -length on one of the sofas watching TV. She’d reached for the remote on the table behind and the action had stretched her T-shirt tight, giving him an eyeful of her baby bulge—smal , but unmistakable. And perfect.

He hadn’t been able to look away, even when she’d returned to her former position.

Beneath her shirt she carried his baby.

He’d stumbled back into the kitchen, trying to decipher the emotions tumbling through him.

His first instinct had been denial. He couldn’t get emotional y involved with this baby. He’d lost it al once before. He couldn’t go through that again. His second thought had been…

Hope?

Alex swiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and gave up al pretence of painting for the moment. The longer he stayed here with Kit the more it seemed possible that he could do what she wanted of him, be what she wanted—an involved father. The thought made his heart thud against his ribs again, just like it had last night.

He’d started tel ing himself that this time it would be different. As the child’s biological father, he’d have rights. Besides, Kit had more generosity in her little finger than Jacqueline had in her entire being.

Plans started racing through his mind. He could work in Sydney through the week and then shoot up here to Tuncurry for the weekends.

Better yet, he could relocate here. He set the paintbrush down and rested his hands on his knees, his mind racing even faster. Kit had said the tourism industry was booming. There’d be property development opportunities galore. He could set up an office in Forster that specialised in developing eco-tourist resorts.

And he could be a part of his child’s life.

What about Kit?

Al his plans slammed to a halt. He swal owed. He couldn’t give Kit what she wanted, what she needed.

What happens when she meets someone who can?

Sweat beaded his top lip, gathered at his nape and trickled a path of ice down his back. Eventual y Kit would meet someone and fal in love with them.

She’d marry. And his child would have a stepfather.

He tried to push back the darkness that threatened to swal ow him whole. He rubbed a fist across his brow. Kit deserved to find someone, to be happy, but…

but…

What then? What if she relocated to Perth or…or to America?

Why would this time be any different? Why should it al work out for him now?

Because he wanted it to?

A harsh laugh broke from a throat that ached.

Grabbing the paintbrush, he forced himself back to work. He’d be a fool to get his hopes up.

The back door slammed, jerking him out from beneath the darkness stealing over him.

‘Good to see Kit has you working so hard.’

He glanced down from his position on the scaffolding. Caro. Not holding a meat cleaver. ‘Nice to see you too,’ he drawled.

Kit emerged from the house with a tea tray. At her side trotted a dark-haired child of about four. A boy.

Alex froze.

He didn’t know why the sight of the child rocked him, but it did. To his core. He’d seen other children, of course, since he’d lost Chad, but…

He hadn’t talked to one, touched one.

His hand tightened around the paintbrush. Maybe it was the combination of a pregnant Kit and child.

Kit and child.

Kit and—

Chad would be about this child’s age now.

The thought slammed into him from nowhere and the strength drained from his legs. He braced a hand against a weatherboard. In the back of his mind he was dimly aware that the board was wet. Ignore the paint. Keep breathing.

Paint from his brush dripped onto his trainer. He clenched the paintbrush as if it were his last grip on reality as he tried to push the memories of Chad away, deep down into the unexplored parts of himself where they couldn’t torment him.

It didn’t work. Questions pounded at him.

Would Chad be the same size and shape as the child at Kit’s side? How tal would he be now? Had his hair darkened or grown lighter? The need to see Chad, to hold him, burst the straitjacket he normal y kept it bound to, and for a moment darkness swirled al around him.

‘Look, Mum, I’m helping Auntie Kit and I got the most important job—carrying the biscuits!’

‘Not just any biscuits, but chocolate biscuits,’ Caro said with what he guessed must be the appropriate amount of admiration. Thankful y she turned the child towards the outdoor chairs and table. ‘And you’re al owed to have one just as soon as you set them down.’

‘Alex, that looks great.’

Kit’s voice, her appreciation, pushed some of the darkness away and helped him breathe again. He did his best to ignore the childish patter behind him.

‘Would you like some tea?’

He nodded and final y found his voice. ‘I’l be down in a minute.’

She turned to carry the tea tray to the table, and Alex clenched his eyes shut and tried to control his breathing, tried to block the images that rose up to torment him, taunt him, remind him of al he’d lost.

Tonight he’d have that nightmare—the endless rooms in that mansion, the childish laughter always out of reach. Despair threatened his control. Some days he thought it would take his sanity. With every ounce of strength he possessed, he pushed it back, tamped it down. He couldn’t lose his mind. He had Kit’s house to finish.

He gritted his teeth. The mundane would al ay the nightmare. He opened his eyes, unclasped the paintbrush from fingers that had started to cramp and did his best to wipe the wet paint from his hand with a rag.

‘What are you doing?’

That childish voice came from almost directly beneath him. He stared at the weatherboards. He could do this. He’d wrapped his heart in ice once before. He could halt the thaw that Kit had somehow started and put it in deep freeze once again. He would not think about Chad.

He dragged in a breath. He didn’t turn around. ‘I’m painting your Auntie Kit’s house.’

‘My name is Davey.’

Another deep breath. ‘Mine’s Alex.’

‘Are you Auntie Kit’s boyfriend?’

The voice was even closer now, and the question made Alex blink. In another time, another place, he suspected it would’ve made him laugh. ‘I’m her friend.’

‘I’m going to marry her when I grow up.’

He had to hand it to the kid. He had great taste.

‘Can I help?’

And then Davey’s head appeared and Alex’s heart lurched. Davey had climbed up the side of the heart lurched. Davey had climbed up the side of the scaffolding. What if he fel ? ‘Hold on a minute, Tiger.’

His heart cramped. He’d always cal ed Chad Tiger. Don’t think about Chad!

Alex forced himself to move. He vaulted to the ground and then seized Davey beneath the armpits to swing him down too. ‘Your mum wil come after me with a meat cleaver if you—’

He couldn’t go on. He froze. Davey’s solid weight, his warmth, the trusting way he stared at Alex with dark-fringed eyes that were the same brown as Chad’s. Al of it was imprinted on his memory. A low moan threatened to burst from his chest. Chad would weigh this much now too. He’d stil be chubby-cheeked and chubby-legged like the last time Alex had seen him, held him, but he’d be tal er. He’d probably be asking awkward question and—

Who was letting Chad help paint a house or sand a chair or let him hand them tools while they tuned a car?

Pictures of Chad flashed through his mind. Chad running towards him to welcome him home from work, arms outstretched. Chad with his head thrown back, gurgling with laughter as Alex swung him around and around. Chad nestled against Alex’s chest, his breathing deep and even as he slept.

Alex started to shake.

‘Alex?’

Kit came into view. He barely heard her over the rush in his ears. The cramp in his chest grew until he thought he might crack in two. He wanted to haul this child into his arms and hold him close. He wanted…

He thrust Davey into Kit’s arms. ‘I…I have to go.’

He lurched around the side of the house. He didn’t stop at his car. He kept walking. Chad’s name echoed in his heart with every step. At some point Kit’s started up in there too.

Kit’s heart burned when Alex disappeared around the side of the house. His white-lipped stare, his wild dark eyes, the way his hands had clenched, it had almost made her cry out.

Davey had reminded him of Chad! Oh, why hadn’t she thought? She should have realized.

Her mouth went dry. But…Davey wasn’t Chad. If Alex reacted this way to a child he wasn’t related to, how would he react to his own child?

She swal owed back a sob, not wanting to frighten Davey.

Davey’s bottom lip wobbled. ‘I only wanted to help. Alex doesn’t like me.’

‘Of course he does, honey.’ She pul ed him in close for a hug before moving back towards Caro, unable to meet her friend’s eye. ‘Alex hasn’t been feeling very wel lately. I think he might be coming down with something.’

Caro raised an eyebrow, but Kit was grateful she didn’t snort.

‘Hey there, soldier!’ Frank popped his head up over the fence. ‘Want to come see the baby birds in the nest on my shed?’

Davey’s face lit up. ‘Can I, Mum? Can I go over to Uncle Frank’s?’

‘Okay.’ Caro laughed and pointed a mock-threatening finger at Frank. ‘But mind you don’t feed him more than two biscuits. He’s had two already.’

‘Aye, aye, Captain!’

Caro contemplated Kit as Davey raced across next door. ‘Why are you wasting your time on this man, Kit?’

Was she wasting her time? She folded herself into her chair, hunched down to rest her head against its wooden slats. Nausea and exhaustion pummel ed her.

‘I mean, you had to see the look on his face when he held Davey. Not even Blind Freddy could’ve missed that!’

She had. Shock, wonder and then pain—a dark, searing, tear-the-heart-out-of-your-chest pain.

And she’d wanted to help him. In that moment it hadn’t mattered if he was going to stay or not.

Nobody should be asked to endure that kind of pain on their own.

‘Kit, do you real y believe Alex can change?

Come to terms with fatherhood? Be there for you and the baby?’

Kit moistened her lips and swal owed. ‘I know if our positions were reversed, I’d be asking you these self-same questions. Caro, my head knows what you’re saying. It’s saying the same things.’

‘But?’

But her heart was another matter entirely. It hit her then that she’d been so busy trying to reconcile Alex to the idea of fatherhood that she’d forgotten to protect herself. She’d left herself wide open. She’d fal en in love with him again.

If she’d ever fal en out of love with him in the first place.

What a mess!

She forced herself to state facts. ‘You know he threw up when I told him I was pregnant. Right there in the azalea bushes.’

‘Oh, honey.’ Caro leaned across, clasped her hand. ‘I’m sorry.’

Kit squeezed it back. ‘But he took me to the medical clinic al the same and he looked after me until I was over the kidney infection. He knew he didn’t have to stay, but he did and he never made me feel bad about it. Not once.’

‘Just as wel !’

‘His parents died when he was twelve and he went to live with his mean old grandfather. You and me, we both missed our dads, but our childhoods were great.’

Caro shook her head, but she was smiling. ‘You are such a soft touch.’

‘Every time I’ve just about given up on him, I find out something that gives me hope again. You know, he hasn’t had a proper holiday in nearly five years.

He took leave the month before last and spent it doing aid work in Africa, helping to build an orphanage.’

She’d gril ed him until he’d told her every single detail about it. She could stil remember the way his eyes had shone.

‘Not the actions of a man entirely beyond hope,’

Caro final y agreed. ‘But, honey, I’m so scared you’re going to get hurt.’

Kit pul ed in a breath. It was too late to go back now. ‘I know having him here is a risk, but…’ She now. ‘I know having him here is a risk, but…’ She leant towards her friend. ‘There’s too much at stake to just give up on him. He’l do what he considers his duty—pay child support and whatnot.’ She flattened her hands over her burgeoning stomach and stared at it in wonder and gratitude. ‘I want more than that for my baby, Caro. I love it so much already. If anything I do now can help Alex with his issues and embrace fatherhood, then…’

‘Then you’l do it.’

‘I have to,’ she whispered, her throat thickening and her eyes stinging. ‘I know I might fail. I know the odds aren’t great.’ After what she’d just witnessed, they might wel be non-existent, but… ‘I have to at least try. Otherwise, how wil I ever be able to look my child in the eye when it asks me about its daddy?’

Caro didn’t say anything for a moment. ‘What about what you need, Kit?’

‘The baby has to come first.’

‘Sure it does, but it doesn’t mean you’re not al owed to have hopes and dreams for yourself too.

You know I’d lay my life down for Davey, but it doesn’t stop me hoping my white knight wil turn up.’

With al her heart, Kit hoped that would happen for her friend.

‘You love him, don’t you?’

It was useless trying to hide from the truth. She gave a weary nod. ‘I started fal ing for him the first time I laid eyes on him. If I believed in such things I’d have said we’d known each other in a past life. It just felt that…right.’

And then they’d made love. There had been no going back after that.

‘Do you know how he feels about you?’

‘I know he likes who I am.’ She hesitated. ‘I sometimes think he has me up on some stupid pedestal. And I know he’s stil attracted to me.’ Her heart fluttered up into her throat. There was no denying she was attracted to him.

‘But something is holding him back?’

‘Yes.’ Chad.

‘Honey, if you can’t get to the bottom of it, no one can. If and when you do, he’l be your slave for ever.’

Kit wished she shared her friend’s confidence.

‘And if I fail, you’l be there to help me pick up the pieces.’

‘Just like you’ve always been there for me.’

‘Caro, if Alex can’t be my birth partner, wil you do it?’

Caro leaned over and hugged her. ‘I’d be honoured.’

Kit found Alex on her rock.

She didn’t mean to. She hadn’t gone looking for him. She’d just needed to get out of the house.

She’d needed the fresh air and spring breeze to blow away the fears and worries crowding her mind.

She’d come here to her rock to remind herself of al the good things she’d stil have in her life if Alex did leave. Just the thought of Alex leaving bleached the colour out of al that was good. She swal owed and settled one hand on her stomach. That wasn’t true. If Alex left she’d stil have her baby, and her baby was a very good thing. An amazing thing.

A miracle.

She’d give thanks for her baby every day.

She stared at the rigid lines of Alex’s back and shoulders and clenched her hands. Why was he finding this so hard? Their baby wasn’t Chad. Their situation was different. Sure, the prospect of a new baby was scary, but it was joyful and wonderful too.

Or it would be if only he’d let it.

She blinked hard. She should leave him be. He obviously wanted privacy. Maybe her rock would help him find a measure of peace. She turned to leave, but he swung around as if some sixth sense had told him she was standing there.

‘Oh…’ The words dried in her throat as emotion, yearning, her love for him, al swel ed up through her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she final y choked out. ‘I didn’t know you were here. I didn’t mean to disturb you. I’l go.’

‘No!’ He leapt to his feet. ‘This is your spot. I’ll go.’

His vehemence, his evident desire to put her at her ease and to do what was right, made her smile.

‘I’m happy to share. There’s room enough for two.’

There was room enough for an entire family, but she left that particular thought unsaid.

He shrugged. ‘I’m game if you are.’

He moved forward and offered her his hand, helped her clamber down. He let her go again as soon as it was safe, and she immediately missed his sure strength, his warmth. She tried to make do with the sun-warmed rock instead.

She rested back on her hands and lifted her face to the sun. ‘Summer is nearly here. I love summer.’

When she glanced back at him, she found him staring out to sea. Her heart crashed and ached and burned. Was he wishing himself a mil ion miles away?

Regardless of his sentiments, it couldn’t be denied that this stay here at least agreed with him physical y. His forearms and calves had grown tanned from the sun. His body, if it were possible, had grown harder and leaner.

She’d love to see him naked.

Oh!

She must’ve made some betraying noise

because he turned to her. She waved a hand in front of her face as if shooing a fly.

‘Look, I’m sorry. I know I freaked out back there earlier with Davey.’

That was one way of putting it.

‘But al of a sudden he was up on that scaffolding with me and al I could think was, what if he fel ? It’d be my fault.’

‘No, it wouldn’t. Caro and I should’ve been watching him more closely. I keep forgetting how quick he is.’

When he didn’t say anything else, a weight settled in her stomach. She stared at the water flowing in the channel. If she fel in now she had a feeling she’d sink to the very bottom. ‘Tel me about Chad.’

Every line of him stiffened. ‘Why?’

She lifted one shoulder. ‘Because I know that’s who Davey reminded you of. He’s such a big part of you even though he isn’t in your life any more.’ Alex didn’t say anything. She swal owed. ‘How old was he when he started to sleep through the night? Where did he take his first step?’

did he take his first step?’

Alex’s hands clenched to fists.

‘What was his favourite toy?’

He swung to her, his face twisted. ‘Talking about Chad, remembering him, whatever you think, Kit, it doesn’t help.’

The hairs on her arms lifted and her heart raced.

‘You’re not the only one who is scared, you know?’

she burst out, unable to keep the wobble from her voice.

He frowned then. ‘You’re scared?’

If she had the energy, she’d have smiled at his incredulity, if she could just get over the ache flattening her chest and stretching behind her eyes and pounding at her temples first. ‘Dammit, Alex!

Some days I’m terrified.’

She couldn’t bear to look at him any more, knowing the distance that stretched between them.

She stared down into the strong current that rippled down the channel as the tide came in, at the clean, clear water. Then blinked when a silver-grey shape lifted out of that water. ‘Oh, look!’ She pointed at the myriad of fins that surfaced. ‘Dolphins.’

In the past it had never mattered what it was that she’d brooded about as she’d sat out here; when the dolphins arrived things never looked so bad.

From the way Alex leaned forward to get a better view, from the way his back unbent and his shoulder unhitched, she figured maybe they had the same effect on him.

‘What are you scared about, Kit?’

‘That I’l be a terrible mum. That I’l be impatient and yel a lot and that being home with a baby wil be so intel ectual y and mind-bogglingly boring that I’l lose myself and blame the baby.’

‘Oh.’ The word broke from him softly as if he’d thought her above worrying about such things. As if the thought hadn’t occurred to him that such things could worry her. ‘I think you’l make a great mum. I don’t think you’l get impatient or yel . You never did at work. I know you loved your job, but how much more wil you love your baby?’

He had a point.

‘As for this baby brain you talk about, you’re doing the crossword and playing word games and I know you’l beat it. Maybe you could pick up some part-time work that wil give you some down-time from the baby?’

She eyed him uncertainly. ‘You don’t think it’s a mother’s role to be with her baby twenty-four seven?’

‘Nope.’

She let that idea sink in. ‘I’m scared of other stuff too.’

‘Like?’

‘What if dirty nappies make me puke?’

‘Keep a bucket by the changing table.’

That made her laugh. She sobered a moment later. ‘I wonder how I’l cope with months of broken sleep. I wonder how I’l cope if I get sick again.’

‘You have lots of friends al wil ing to help you out.’

‘I know, but…’ She wanted it to be him she shared al those things with—the difficulties and the joys of adjusting to a new baby.

He’d loved a child once. Didn’t it mean he could love another one?

‘But?’

‘I know al those things, but it doesn’t make the fear go away. I…I mean, the thought of the labour terrifies me.’ She gulped when she realized what she’d said. She hadn’t meant to reveal quite so much.

Turbulence raged in those dark eyes of his. ‘Then why are you going through it?’

‘Because the hope is greater than the fear.’

Something fluttered in her stomach—like a hiccup

—only it didn’t come from her.

‘What is it?’ Alex barked when she held herself suddenly stiff, al his energy focused on her. It almost threw her concentration. She loved watching his muscles bunch like that, his eyes narrow in readiness.

‘Hold on…’ She held up a hand. There! It happened again.

It was the baby!

‘Oh, Alex, look!’ She grabbed his hand and pressed it to her stomach.

‘What am I—?’

She pressed his fingers more firmly to the spot where the hiccup feeling grew. ‘Can you feel that?’

Wonder fil ed her.

‘What is it?’ He frowned. ‘Should I take you to the clinic?’

She laughed for the sheer joy of it. ‘That’s the baby, Alex. That’s the baby kicking.’

For a moment she thought he meant to pul his hand away but, almost as if he couldn’t help it, his hand away but, almost as if he couldn’t help it, his fingers spread across her bel y and gently pressed against her, sending darts of warmth shooting through her. ‘The baby?’ he whispered, almost as if he were afraid of waking it up.

‘Uh-huh.’ She nodded. ‘Isn’t it amazing?’

‘Yes.’ Then he frowned. ‘Does it hurt?’

He would’ve pul ed his hand away only she laid her hand on top of it to keep it there, to maintain this tenuous three-way connection—him, her and their baby. ‘Not a bit. It feels…wonderful! I’ve been dying for this moment.’ Her grin must stretch al the way across the channel to Forster.

His eyes widened. ‘This is the first time?’

She couldn’t get the grin off her face. ‘The very first time.’

Alex’s wonder made him look younger. The grooves either side of his mouth eased, the creases around his eyes relaxed and the darkness in his irises abated, his lips tilted up at the corners, and it al made Kit catch her breath.

Beneath her hand, his hand tensed. She dropped her gaze to stare at their two hands. Neither one of them moved, and in less than a heartbeat desire licked along her veins. She wanted to lift her gaze and memorize every line and feature of his face, the texture of his skin, while she could. Here on her rock.

So she could have this memory for ever.

She didn’t need to look up to do that, though. His every feature was already branded on her brain. She knew that dark stubble peppered his jaw. Alex needed to shave every day, but he’d skipped that chore this morning, eager to get started on the painting instead. Her palm itched to sample that roughness, her tongue burned to trace it, to taste it…

to tease him.

Today he looked more like a disreputable pirate than a civilised businessman and a thril coursed through her at the danger she sensed simmering just beneath the surface.

Final y obeying the silent command she sensed in him, she lifted her gaze to his. At the edge of his right eyebrow was a tiny nick, as if he’d once had a stitch there. She’d always meant to ask him about it, but her breath came in shal ow gulps and her pulse had gone so erratic she didn’t trust her voice not to give her away.

His eyes burned dark and hot as they travel ed over her, and her soul sang at the possessiveness that transformed his features. No longer afraid of revealing her desire for him, she lowered her gaze to his lips. Need, hunger, thirst al speared into her. Her lips parted. Her eyes searched out his again, pleading with him to sate her need. If she couldn’t taste him just one more time she thought she might die.

Something midway between a groan and a growl emerged from his throat. His hand tightened on her stomach. Her hand tightened over his. Yes! Oh, please, yes!

Stil Alex held back, his eyes devouring her face as if he was picturing in vivid detail every caress he meant to place there. He didn’t lift his hand from her abdomen and it felt like a promise. His fingers splayed, sending darts of need right into the core of her, making her tremble with the intensity of her desire.

His other hand came up to cup her face, his thumb traced the outline of her bottom lip, dipped into the moistness of her mouth, traced her lips again, moved back and forth over them as if to sensitize them to the utmost limit of their endurance before taking her to the next level with his lips and mouth and tongue.

She started to pant, wanted to beg him for his lips, his mouth, his tongue, but stil his mouth didn’t descend. With a low growl she flicked her tongue across his thumb. He stiffened as if electrified. She drew his thumb into her mouth, circled it with her tongue, suckled it until his eyes darkened to obsidian.

And then final y, slowly, inexorably, his head lowered and her blood started to sing. His body blocked out the sun and, as he moved closer and closer, al she could see was the light reflected in his eyes. His lips touched hers, moved over hers—

surely, reverently, thoroughly—her eyes fluttered closed and, as the kiss deepened, light burst behind her eyelids. Every wonderful Christmas, every sun-drenched summer and visiting dolphin, every bright and beautiful thing that had ever existed in her life gained a new vitality in that kiss.

The need and the energy, it took her and Alex and merged them into a sparkling, flaming oneness until, body and soul, she didn’t know where she ended and Alex began. It was the kind of kiss to shape and Alex began. It was the kind of kiss to shape worlds and change lives. It shifted the foundations of her world and al she believed about herself.

The hope is greater than the fear.

For the first time where Alex was concerned, her hope was greater than her fear.

Alex eased away from Kit. He didn’t know for how long they’d kissed. He barely knew which way was up. Very slowly he drew his hands away—one from her face, one from her stomach. He tried to stop his legs from jerking in reaction.

‘Are you okay?’

Her voice came out soft and husky, as if he’d kissed al her breath away. Served her right for kissing his breath clean away too.

He nodded and cleared his throat. ‘And you?’

‘Oh, yes.’

She had stars in her eyes! No woman should look at him like that.

An imaginary noose pul ed tight around his neck, and yet for a moment al he could see was the shine on her lips and he ached to sample them again.

‘I’m…’ He cleared his throat again. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘I’m not.’

‘It can’t happen again.’

‘I’l be holding my breath til it does.’

He closed his eyes. He was in way over his head.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THE phone rang. Alex stared at it and then down the hal way towards the bathroom, where he doubted anything could be heard over the blast of Kit’s hairdryer.

The phone rang again.

He opened his mouth to hol er for Kit. He snapped it closed again. She wouldn’t hear him. Or if she did she’d ask him to answer it for her.

He snatched it up, barked, ‘Hel o?’ into the receiver.

He hated answering her phone. There would always be a strategic pause, like now, as the person on the other end of the line—one of the very many of Kit’s community of friends—tried to weigh him up by the sound of his voice.

‘Hel o, I’m hoping to speak with Kit Mercer.’

Female. It wasn’t a voice he recognized, but something about it made his shoulders loosen a fraction. ‘I’l just get her for you. May I ask who’s cal ing?’

‘Candace Woodbury. I’m her mother.’

Kit’s mother! His shoulders immediately clenched up twice as tight. ‘Uh…right.’ He headed down the hal way and knocked on the bathroom door. And then he gulped. He hoped Kit was decent.

‘I’m sorry—’ that pleasant voice purred down the line ‘—but I didn’t catch your name.’

His teeth ground together for a moment. He unclenched them to mutter, ‘Alex Hal am.’

‘Ah…you’re Alex.’

He grimaced and rol ed his shoulders, knocked on the bathroom door again. Louder.

Muffled muttering came from behind it, then it was flung open and Kit stood there in a white terry-towel ing robe that stopped short of her knees, her hair fluffed around her face. She literal y glowed with that golden light he found almost irresistible. He wanted to reach out and cup her cheek, slip the robe from her shoulders and explore her new lush curves.

He wanted to kiss her like he had on the breakwater the other day.

He wanted to please her. Pleasure her.

His jaw clenched. He had to remember al the reasons why that was such a bad idea.

‘Is that for me?’ she said, al sass and fire as if she was aware of the effect she had on him.

She raised an eyebrow and pointed downwards.

Did he have an erection? He’d done his best to quash—

The air left his lungs in a rush. She was pointing at the phone. He shoved it into her hands. ‘It’s your mother.’ And then he fled.

It didn’t prevent him from hearing the start of her conversation. ‘Mum, I see you’ve met Alex. I think you scared him off.’ And then the bathroom door closed and he was out in the living room again and could breathe. After a fashion.

Kit’s mum hadn’t scared him off. He stretched his neck to the right and then to the left. He dropped down onto a sofa. Who was he trying to kid? Al of it

—Kit’s whole life—scared the heck out of him.

Everyone here, they had expectations of him. He’d rather deal with the savage cut and thrust of a boardroom coup than Kit’s family and friends.

He leant his elbows on his knees and rested his head in his hands. He didn’t have a lot of friends to speak of. Loads of acquaintances, but not many friends. He had a couple of mates from his building trade days, another from university and one from school.

He’d been a loner as a kid—his grandfather had made sure of it. In the last two years, since Jacqueline and Chad had gone, he’d shut himself away, had thrown himself into work. It hit him now that he’d neglected those four friends of his. They’d rung, tried to arrange outings. He’d ignored them, cut them off. Kit would never do that to her friends. He lifted his head and steepled his hands beneath his chin. When he returned to Sydney he’d contact each of them and make arrangements to catch up, apologise.

He slumped back against the sofa, his lips twisting. He had more acquaintances, col eagues and associates than he could poke a stick at, but it wasn’t like the community that surrounded Kit. To his untrained eye, it looked as if everyone in town had clamoured to welcome her home. From her old school friends, to her mother and grandmother’s friends, to neighbours old and new and everyone in between. He hadn’t known until he’d come here how important family and friends were to Kit.

She belonged here.

He’d never belonged anywhere.

He’d never belonged anywhere.

But then he remembered sitting in a tree, his mother coming out with milk and biscuits, humming her song, and his father waltzing her around the back garden. He’d belonged once.

Could he belong again?

‘Ready?’

Alex started. He’d been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Kit enter the room. The vision of her stole his breath. She wore a loose cotton sundress that fel to just below her knees, leaving her glorious golden calves on display. The dress—indigo-blue dotted with tiny sprigs of white flowers—made the golden highlights in her hair and eyes gleam.

The dress scooped down in a low vee at the neckline, making him swal ow. He told himself he was grateful she wore a little khaki three-quarter-sleeve jacket with it. He just knew that beneath that jacket the dress would have those tiny shoestring straps. Straps made for being pushed off glorious golden shoulders. Shoulders made for kissing and—

‘Alex?’

High colour stained her cheekbones, but her chin hitched up as he continued to survey her. If he reached for her now she’d let him. They’d make glorious golden love.

And Kit would interpret that as a sign that he meant to stay, that he meant to stay and make a family with her and the baby. She’d give al of herself.

She’d have every right to expect the same in return.

It didn’t matter how much he hungered to lose himself in her softness, her promise; it didn’t matter how much he ached to give her al her heart desired.

The hope is greater than the fear.

He didn’t know if that was true for him. And until he’d worked it out, touching Kit and kissing her, that was off limits.

He shot to his feet and swung away.

‘Alex?’

He heard the frown in her voice and forced himself to take another step away from her and her heavenly, beguiling scent. ‘I was thinking my time might be better spent getting on with the painting than attending a tea party.’

‘You made the cake so you have to come. It’s the rules.’

‘You can pretend you baked it.’

She snorted. ‘Everyone who knows me would see through that lie in a mil isecond. Anyway, my grandmother is expecting you and the luncheon is for charity. It’l only be for an hour or so. Grit your teeth, smile politely, eat cake and then it’l al be over. Oh, and pack your board shorts. I thought we might drop in for a swim at the ocean baths at Forster on our way home. It’s supposed to get hot today.’

The rest of his argument died on his lips. He and Kit swimming together? He wouldn’t risk it if it weren’t in a public place.

But it was in a public place and it was too much to resist.

The retirement vil age was on the outskirts of Forster. It only took them ten minutes to drive there and, although they arrived on the dot at midday, the luncheon was already in ful swing.

Ostensibly the event was supposed to take place in the community hal , but it had spil ed out into the surrounding gardens. Kit dropped a two-dol ar coin into the donation box before he could stop her. He pushed a twenty-dol ar note through the slot. He’d tried to do it unobtrusively, but her gaze had flicked back at him, mouth open as if she meant to say something. She blinked and then she sent him a smile that warmed him to the soles of his feet.

‘That was very generous.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s for charity.’

‘Okay, let’s find Grandma. We’l say hel o, place the cake in her capable hands, make ourselves up plates of goodies and then find some people to talk to.’

He bit back a sigh. It had al sounded great up until that last bit. He’d rather find a cosy corner and settle down to flirt with her. Finding people to talk to, a crowd, was far more sensible. Safer.

There was stil the promise of that swim later.

He’d hold onto that while he gritted his teeth and made smal talk.

‘I’ve been meaning to say,’ Kit said, ‘that I like this new casual look of yours.’

He wore a pair of long, loose cargo shorts and a cotton T-shirt. The simple compliment took him off guard. He didn’t know what to say. ‘Can’t paint in a suit,’ he final y muttered. ‘I’d look a bit stupid.’

Her laugh made him grin. He could do smal talk for an hour or so. For Kit. He could do anything she wanted him to.

Can you be the man she needs you to be? Can you be a father for her baby?

He pushed the thought away. He wasn’t ready to face those questions and al they implied yet.

Well, then, when?

He rol ed his shoulders. Later. When he had her house finished and… He gulped. The house was almost finished. Another week or so and…

Soon. He’d have to answer those questions soon.

‘Alex, it’s lovely to see you again. I’m so glad you could make it.’

He latched onto the distraction. ‘Nice to see you again, Mrs…uh…Patti,’ he corrected at her glare.

‘Thank you for the cake, dear. Now, head on over to the tables and grab yourselves some food before it’s al gone.’

‘No chance of that,’ Alex said. ‘You’l be eating this for a week!’

Patti touched his arm. ‘Make sure my

granddaughter has something with lashings of fresh cream. It’s good for the baby.’

Fresh cream? He frowned. He’d baked a simple sultana pound cake. He wished now that he’d baked something with lashings of cream, like a strawberry shortcake. Tomorrow he’d make Kit one of those.

He liked to watch her eat. He’d like to watch her lick whipped cream from her fingers. He’d like to drop dol ops of whipped cream onto her naked body and slowly lick—

Whoa!

He did his best to banish that image as he fol owed Kit. She pushed an unerring path through the crowd towards laden trestle tables groaning under the weight of luncheon goodies.

She glanced back at him over her shoulder. ‘How d’you learn to bake anyway? I thought you said your mum couldn’t bake to save her life.’

‘I spent a lot of time in the kitchen when I lived at my grandfather’s, watching the housekeeper. Some of it obviously rubbed off.’

She started fil ing two plates with sandwiches, cakes and slices. He scanned the table for something laden with whipped cream. He seized a chocolate éclair and popped it onto one of the plates. ‘Your grandmother’s orders,’ he muttered at her raised eyebrow.

Her laugh made him grin. He couldn’t help it. He Her laugh made him grin. He couldn’t help it. He should be doing his best to keep his distance until he’d worked out how he was going to deal with…

everything. When he was with her, though, that resolution flew out of the window. She made it impossible.

‘Did you like the housekeeper? Was she kind to you?’

He met her gaze and saw hope there—hope that he hadn’t been completely alienated whilst at his grandfather’s. He swal owed. ‘Yes,’ he lied.

He told himself it was only half a lie. The housekeeper had been kind. She’d taught him how to cook and had taken him under her wing. She’d ruffled his hair and wrapped an arm around his shoulders at least once a day—her every caress a treasure to a lonely boy’s soul. Until his grandfather had found out about it and she’d been dismissed.

After that, Alex had been banished from the kitchen.

He hadn’t tried making friends with any of the other staff.

‘Here.’ Kit pressed a laden plate into his hands.

‘Fol ow me.’

He shook off the sombre memory and fol owed her.

The smal talk wasn’t the chore he’d dreaded. He found himself in a circle with four of Kit’s male friends from school talking renovations and home maintenance. He took mental notes when they discussed

the

predominantly

sandy

soil

compositions of the area and the best remedies.

Kit’s lawn could do with some serious TLC.

Eventual y, however, the crowd and the chatter grew too much. He eased himself out of the hal and found a quiet spot in the garden, lowered himself to a rock that bordered a flower bed. The sun beat down overhead. Kit was right, the day would be warm, but a nearby tree fern provided filtered shade and kept him cool.

‘Hel o.’

Alex’s gut clenched. He swal owed and turned.

Davey stood nearby. He moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘Hel o,’ he croaked back.

The little boy took a step closer and frowned.

‘Don’t you like me?’

Heck, where had that come from? Then he remembered his abrupt departure earlier in the week when he’d thrust the little kid into Kit’s arms and had bolted. He hadn’t meant to hurt the little guy’s feelings. ‘Sure I do.’ He held out his stil half-ful plate as a peace offering. ‘Want a cake?’

Davey’s eyes brightened in an instant. He raced over and promptly settled himself on Alex’s left thigh and helped himself to a cupcake. Alex clenched his jaw at the child’s warm weight, the smel of him. He beat back the panic that threatened to rise up and smother him. Panic he couldn’t explain. This little guy—he wasn’t Chad!

Chad. His hand tightened around the plate until he thought it might break as he fought the urge to remove the child from his lap.

Normal. Act normal.

He fought for control, fought to find his voice.

‘Comfortable?’ he drawled.

Davey nodded, oblivious to Alex’s discomfort. ‘I’m not supposed to get dirty,’ he confided. ‘If I sit on the ground I’l get dirty.’

Fair enough. He held the plate out to Davey again once the cupcake was gone. ‘I hear the caramel slice is very good.’

Davey ignored him and reached for a piece of coconut ice instead. Alex considered eating the caramel slice himself—to give him something to do with his hands, in an attempt to occupy his mind with something other than the smel and feel of warm child—but he doubted his stomach would deal with food at the moment.

Given the choice, what would Chad have chosen

—caramel slice or coconut ice? Grief as raw and hard as it had been two years ago sliced through him now. He set the plate on the ground, aghast at how his hand shook.

‘Can I tel you a secret?’

Alex nodded. It was al he was capable of.

‘Auntie Kit is having a baby. Did you know?’

‘Yes.’ The word croaked out of him.

‘Wel , I heard her and Mum talking and if she has a boy she wants to cal him Jacob and Mum thinks that’s a great name but there’s a Jacob at my pre-school and he picks his nose and…’

The rest of the childish patter was lost to him.

The day darkened. He clenched his fingers into the soil of the garden, held on tight with both hands as the earth turned al the way over. He dragged in a breath and fought to remain upright. He would not be sick!

sick!

It came to him then, the answers to the questions he’d so desperately put off answering.

He couldn’t do this.

He wanted to get up and run. Who was he trying to kid? He couldn’t do any of this. He could not be the father Kit so desperately wanted for her child.

Any child, every child, reminded him of Chad, had memories threatening to burst forth—memories and pain. Davey, here, and…and Kit’s baby, would act as constant reminders of his loss, would have panic rising through him…and grief.

Not to mention anger. How could he be a proper father to Kit’s child when he couldn’t see past Chad?

Ice trickled across his scalp and down his spine.

He couldn’t. The bottom line was that he couldn’t.

Was this how his grandfather had felt when Alex’s mother had left? Was that why he hadn’t been able to show softness and love to his grandson? The way Alex now knew he couldn’t show softness and love to his own child?

It would’ve been better for al of them—but especial y for Kit—if he’d left that first day when she’d told him to. It would’ve been better for her if she’d never clapped eyes on him.

‘…anyway, I think it’s a dumb name, don’t you?’

Eyes the same colour as Chad’s lifted to his. It didn’t make any difference tel ing himself that ninety per cent of the population had brown eyes. At this moment in time they were the spitting image of the child’s he’d loved and lost.

‘What would you cal a baby boy?’

Chad. He’d chosen Chad.

Davey frowned. ‘Are you feeling sick again?’

Alex latched onto the excuse. He didn’t know what t he again was about, but… ‘Uh-huh.’ He glanced down at the child in his lap, blinked to clear his vision. ‘Do you think your mum would give Auntie Kit a lift home?’

Davey nodded.

‘Can you tel them that I went home because I was feeling sick?’

Davey nodded and jumped up. He raced off.

With a heart that grew colder with every step, Alex made his way back to the car.

Kit found Alex sitting at the dining table when she let herself into the house. Her heart slowed and relief flooded her. Alex did not look as if he were on his deathbed yet. Davey had exaggerated.

So…something had spooked him? Again?

Davey?

She fought the exhaustion that threatened to settle over her. She recal ed their kiss at the breakwater.

She wasn’t ready to give up on Alex yet. He’d make it. He just needed…

More time?

She swal owed. How much longer did she mean to keep making excuses for him?

He’s worth fighting for, the voice of her secret self whispered.

He was. Her every instinct told her so. He worked hard, he tried to do what was right, and when he kissed her she grew wings.

The expression that stretched through his eyes when he lifted his head to meet her gaze had a lump wel ing in her throat. She couldn’t keep this up, not for much longer. At her last doctor’s visit, her obstetrician had warned her that her blood pressure was creeping up.

Kit knew why. Alex. Her constant worry whether he would accept their baby into his life. Her constant worry whether he could overcome his demons. It was starting to take its tol . He was worth fighting for, but not at the expense of their baby’s health.

Just give him one more week.

For a moment tears made his face blur. She swal owed and blinked hard. She couldn’t find a smile and she didn’t try. ‘I see you’ve made a miraculous recovery.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Kit, I can’t do this. I can’t be what you want me to be. I cannot be a father to your baby.’

Her hands clenched, her stomach tightened. ‘You don’t need to make a decision about that right now.

We can talk about it and—’

‘No!’

The word snarled out of him. Al the hairs on her arms lifted. The skin at her nape and her temples chil ed.

‘Every child reminds me of Chad. Every child is a source of pain. Remembering Chad every single day, remembering what it was like to lose him, it wil drive me insane, Kit.’

His eyes dropped to her stomach and al she could do was stare at the white lines that slashed deep on either side of his mouth. Lines that spoke of grief and pain beyond her understanding.

‘That’s why I can’t be a father to your child.’

For a moment, everything stil ed, hung suspended

—him, her, those words with their awful meaning.

Then her stomach fel and fel and kept fal ing. She couldn’t move, couldn’t speak.

He’d warned her, he’d tried to tel her, he hadn’t made her any promises. For the moment, though, it was his pain that touched her and not her own. She forced herself forward, sat in the chair opposite. ‘Tel me about Chad,’ she pleaded.

The darkness in his eyes didn’t abate. He shook his head. ‘There’s no point.’

She reached out to touch the back of one of his clenched fists. ‘There is a point, Alex, it’s—’

‘I can’t!’ he burst out, pul ing his hand away.

She didn’t know how one moved on after they lost a child, where one found the strength to pick up the pieces. Already she’d do anything to protect her baby and it wasn’t even born yet. Chad might not be dead, but he’d been removed from Alex’s world as surely as if he were.

surely as if he were.

She swal owed. She might not know what Alex was going through, but she did know that bottling it up would only hurt him more.

‘You don’t understand, Kit. This life of yours—the same life my parents led—it can never be my life. I don’t have the openness of heart for it. I don’t have any confidence in its permanence. If I stayed here with you and the baby I would ruin it al . I’m like my grandfather.’

‘No, you’re not!’

How could he believe that? She searched her mind for something that would prove him wrong.

‘Look at how you were with Davey that day you were painting. He brought back memories of Chad, but you weren’t unkind to him. What would your grandfather have done—yel ed at him and frightened him, that’s what.’

Alex shook his head. ‘That doesn’t change the fact that to survive living in my grandfather’s house I had to kil off something in my nature that makes it impossible for me to…to do al this.’ He waved a hand to indicate the interior of her house.

‘You did it with Jacqueline.’

‘If I’d done it successful y, she would never have left!’

For a moment Kit couldn’t catch her breath.

Alex slumped. His eyes turned black. ‘I wil finish the work on your house, Kit. After that, I’l return to Sydney. My solicitors wil arrange child support payments.’

Panic launched through her in a series of half-formed phrases and pulsing nausea. She surged to her feet. ‘You can’t leave just like that, Alex! I’m sorry, more sorry than I can say about Chad, but…’ She gripped the air, searching for the words that would make him see sense. Words that would make him stay. ‘Don’t you see? Our baby deserves a father too.’

Alex rose. He stood wooden and stiff in front of her. He looked like a man who’d been dealt a body blow. ‘I’m sorry, Kit.’

She reeled away from him as comprehension cleared the fog and confusion from her mind. Fear settled in its place. She swung back. ‘You’re doing with Chad what you did with your parents—blocking out every memory, good and bad, in an attempt to block out the pain. You think by avoiding those memories you’re protecting yourself, but you’re wrong. The same goes for love and family and commitment. Doing your best to avoid those things just means you’re going to keep losing and losing.’

Couldn’t he understand that? Her heart ached and ached for him, and it ached for their unborn child.

She lifted her chin. ‘I know you care about me.’

Please, please, don’t let her be wrong about that.

Colour stained his cheekbones a dark, deep red.

Hope washed through her. ‘Walking away from al of this…’ she lifted her arms out in an attempt to encompass the house, the life they could have here

‘…can you honestly tel me that’s going to be easy?’

‘It won’t be easy.’ His voice was pitched low but she caught every word. ‘It won’t be gut-wrenchingly impossible either. It won’t be tear-your-heart-right-out-of-your-chest bad.’

She understood then the pain he’d suffered in missing his son.

‘It wil be for me,’ she whispered.

Alex nearly caved in then. Kit’s admission was a knife to his heart.

He’d never meant to hurt her. He’d do anything to take away her pain, but staying…that was out of the question. It was better to hurt her now than hurt her more later.

He should never have married Jacqueline. He knew that now. He’d worked long hours, driven to provide Jacqui with al the nice things she’d wanted

—the big house, the antique furniture. She’d grown bored and restless, though, in al those long hours he’d spent away from her. She’d become lonely.

She hadn’t been a bad person. She’d lied to him, and it had been a terrible lie, but she’d been too afraid to tel him the truth. If he’d put as much effort and time into his marriage as he had into making a name for himself in the business world…

But he hadn’t. The harsh bitterness he’d suffered at his grandfather’s hands had leached into his own soul. He couldn’t do family. He didn’t know how.

Unbidden, that image of his father waltzing his mother around their back garden rose in his mind.

With a swift shake of his head, he banished it.

That was a lost dream. He wouldn’t hurt Kit by making the same mistake twice.

Kit gulped. He wanted to pul her into his arms and let her sob the worst of her pain into his shoulder. He hardened his heart. She had her family and her friends. She didn’t need him. She would be better off without him.

‘You real y aren’t going to change your mind, are you?’ Her voice wobbled but she held his gaze.

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, Kit, for everything, but I’m not going to change my mind.’

‘Then I was wrong,’ she said slowly. ‘You didn’t love me after al . You don’t real y care about me or the baby. Al this—’ she gestured to the house ‘—

has simply been a salve for your conscience.’

Her eyes suddenly spat fire. ‘Get out, Alex! Just pack your things and get out. It’s not our job to make you feel better for leaving.’

She was right. He should never have stayed here.

‘I’l book into a hotel. I’l be back in the morning to keep working on the house.’ It should only take a couple of days to finish the painting and another week tops to do the bathroom.

‘No.’

She didn’t yel , but the word echoed in his ears as if she had.

‘If you don’t mean to hang around for ever then you needn’t think you can hang around for another week or two.’

But there was stil so much to do! He couldn’t leave her house in this state.

‘In fact I never want to see you again. End of story,’ she added when he opened his mouth.

‘But—’

‘Do you mean to stay for ever?’

He couldn’t!

Kit gathered up her handbag. ‘I’m going out. You have two hours. I want you gone by the time I get back.’

‘Kit!’ He surged forward as she made for the door. ‘Wil you let me know if you need anything or

—?’

‘No.’ Her face had shuttered closed, al her golden goodness shut off from him. ‘If you want to make things as easy as you can for me, you wil go and not come back.’ She paused at the door. ‘Go home, Alex.’ And then she walked through it.

His world split apart then and there. He turned and stumbled for the hal way and the spare bedroom.

‘Alex?’

He turned to find her framed in the doorway again.

He turned to find her framed in the doorway again.

‘Knowing al that you know now, would you give up those two years with Chad?’

He stared at her and didn’t know how to answer.

‘Understand that when you walk away from me and our child, that your answer is yes.’

With that she closed the door. And it was as if the sunshine had been bled out of his life.

CHAPTER TWELVE

WHEN Kit let herself into her house three hours later, she found that Alex hadn’t left behind a single item, not one sign that he’d ever stayed here, ever been here.

She’d given him an extra hour to pack up, just in case.

She’d given herself an extra hour, just because.

Sitting on her rock for two hours, she’d stared out at the sea and had tried to make her mind blank. The cries of the seagul s, the shushing of the waves and the sight of the dolphins frolicking in the channel, none of it had been able to make her smile or had succeeded in unhitching the knot that tangled in her chest.

She dropped her handbag to the floor, lowered herself to the nearer of the two sofas, rested her head on its arm. When her watch had told her it was time to go home, she’d found she couldn’t. She’d gone to a coffee shop and had sat over a pot of ginger and lemongrass tea. But the smel of coffee and cake and the chattering of the clientele, none of that had lifted her spirits or helped her feel connected again.

And now, back home and in the absence of the banging of hammers and the whirring and buzzing of power tools, the enormity of what she’d done sank in. She’d sent Alex away. And although none of his things remained in her house, although his absence was evident in the very stil ness of the air, his presence was alive in every corner. His handiwork, evident in the freshly plastered and primed wal s, mocked her.

And the deep malt scent of the man… She’d take that to her grave.

With a growl, she flew up and flung open every door and window. She seized a cushion and a throw rug and stormed out into the back garden to huddle down in one of the Cape Cod chairs—that Alex had sanded and painted. The day was warm but she was chil ed to the bone. She wrapped the blanket about her and tried to stop her teeth from chattering.

A gulf opened up inside her, too big even for tears. Alex didn’t want their baby. ‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered, rubbing one hand back and forth over her tummy. ‘I’m so sorry.’

She closed her eyes and rested her head against the wooden slats behind. The sun stil shone but it felt as if night had descended around her. Alex didn’t want her. She’d always known that his rejection would hurt. She hadn’t known it would devastate her.

She wrapped the blanket about her more tightly, knotted her hands in it as if it were the only thing anchoring her to this world.

Alex didn’t leave town, he didn’t return to Sydney like Kit had ordered him to. He’d meant to, because he hadn’t known what else to do. Go home, Alex.

Funny, but somewhere in the last few weeks Tuncurry had come to represent home in a way his apartment in Sydney never had.

When he’d reached the sign that said, ‘Thank you for visiting our tidy town’, he’d slammed on the brakes and pul ed over to the verge, rhythmical y pounding the palm of his left hand against the steering wheel.

There was stil the matter of the shower unit. It stil hadn’t arrived. How on earth would Kit be able to pay for it?

He’d turned the car around and had driven back into town, booked into a hotel. Not one of the gorgeous plush ones with glorious ocean or lake views. He didn’t deserve one of those. His hotel was spare and spartan. His room was spare and spartan. His view… Who cared? He didn’t bother looking out of the window.

Without kicking off even his shoes, he’d fal en back onto the bed to stare up at the ceiling.

Would you give up those two years with Chad?

He fisted his hands in the quilt in an attempt to combat the hol owness, the emptiness…and to give himself something to hold onto.

Alex was waiting for Frank at the Rock Pool before lunch the fol owing Monday.

Frank didn’t hesitate when he saw Alex; he trotted right on over and settled himself in the sand beside him. ‘Saw your car was gone Saturday afternoon.

Noticed it didn’t come back Saturday night. Or yesterday. Or this morning.’

Alex was suddenly fiercely glad that Kit had a neighbour who took notice of such things, one who cared for her. It shamed him to think he’d written Frank off as a sil y old duffer.

‘Kit wanted me to leave. She ordered me to go back to Sydney.’

Shrewd eyes surveyed him. ‘You haven’t, though.’

‘No.’

‘You’re going to stay and fight for her?’

Alex knew if he lied and said yes that he’d instantly win the older man’s support, but he was through with those kinds of lies and half-truths and vain reaching for dreams that could never be. He stared out at the water. ‘There isn’t any hope for me and Kit, Frank.’ The words tasted dry and vile in his mouth.

‘Then what are you stil doing here?’

‘I can’t leave her house in that mess. Not when she has a baby on the way.’

‘Your baby.’

‘Yes.’ His baby. The baby he couldn’t face. He pushed the thought away. This wasn’t what he’d come here to discuss. ‘Look, Frank, the short story is that Kit doesn’t want to clap eyes on me again so I can’t finish the work myself. I need someone capable to oversee the rest of what needs doing.’ He hauled in a breath. ‘I was hoping that person might be you.’

Frank pursed his lips. ‘But I’d have to do it behind Kit’s back?’

Alex nodded heavily. He’d known Frank would find the clandestine nature of his plan problematic.

‘I don’t know, Alex. Kit is a proud woman. She won’t accept money or charity from me, and it certainly sounds as if she won’t accept it from you.’

‘Look, in terms of materials most of the stuff is already there. The paint is in the garden shed and the new bathroom tiles are being stored in the laundry cupboard. I’m not stupid enough to offer to cover the costs of the labour. I know Kit can manage that.’

‘So…you just want me to oversee the work, see that they do a good job and don’t rip her off?’

Alex nodded and pul ed a business card from his pocket. ‘The hardware store recommends these guys. Maybe you could point Kit in their direction.’

‘That al seems harmless enough.’ Those shrewd eyes surveyed him again, narrowed. ‘And?’

‘There’s this damn shower unit I ordered.’ Alex flung an arm out. ‘It’s top of the line, but they wouldn’t take my money because they weren’t sure if they could get it in. Now it appears they can and a bil wil be enclosed upon delivery.’

‘Ah…’

Realization dawned in Frank’s eyes and Alex could read the denial forming there. ‘It’s expensive,’

he rushed on. And then he named the price.

Frank’s jaw dropped. ‘You’re spending how much on a shower cubicle?’

‘It’s top of the line—non-slip, safety glass and…

and it’s easy clean, low maintenance.’ He dragged a hand down his face. ‘I wanted Kit and the baby to have the best.’

Frank threw his head back then and started to laugh. Alex shifted on the sand and scowled at the water, at his feet…at a seagul that screeched endlessly nearby. ‘You have to intercept that bil for me, Frank. Kit would never have chosen that unit and her resources won’t stretch to covering it.’

‘I’l see what I can do.’ Frank chuckled before breaking into a fresh gale of laughter. ‘Come on, lad.

Let’s go for a swim.’

Alex waited at the Rock Pool on Tuesday, but Frank didn’t show. He knew Frank’s routine was a swim before lunch on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays, but he waited there on Tuesday just in case Frank needed him for anything. Even though he’d given the older man his mobile phone number. And the address and phone number of his motel.

Frank showed on Wednesday. He told Alex that when he’d offered to organise for someone to finish the work on her house, Kit had accepted.

It should’ve taken a load off his mind. He knew this team would do a good job. But, as he and Frank swam, it was al Alex could do to keep afloat.

On Friday, Frank told him the painting should be finished by the close of business that day.

On the fol owing Monday, Frank handed him the bil for the shower unit. ‘Arrived on Saturday,’ he said gruffly.

Not once did he tel Alex how Kit and the baby were doing—if she was eating wel , if her last doctor’s visit had gone without a hitch…if she was happy. He ached with the need to know, but he didn’t ask. He appreciated al Frank had done and was continuing to do. He would not stretch the older man’s loyalties any more than he already had.

‘Guess once you pay that—’ Frank nodded at the bil ‘—you can head back to Sydney.’

His words punched Alex in the gut. Leave? But…

‘You’ve achieved what you set out to, Alex. Kit’s house is coming along. The bathroom wil be finished by the end of the week.’

So soon? Alex stuck out his jaw. ‘I’m staying til it’s completely finished. In case there are any snags.’

Frank opened his mouth but with a shake of his head he shut it. ‘Let’s go for a swim.’

‘It’s al done. Completely finished.’

Alex stared at Frank, a bal of heaviness growing in his chest. It was Friday. ‘But…they said they didn’t think they’d be finished til tomorrow.’

‘They stayed late yesterday to finish up.’

The older man stretched his legs out in front of him. Alex couldn’t stretch anything. He ground a fist into the sand.

‘It looks grand.’

He was fiercely glad about that. He wanted Kit’s house perfect. But finished…?

Was Frank sure? ‘So the external painting is…?’

‘White with blue trim.’

Just like Kit wanted. ‘The guttering is replaced?’

‘Tick.’

‘The internal painting is al done?’

‘It’s lovely and fresh inside now.’

‘And the bathroom is new and clean and functional?’

‘Complete with that fancy shower unit.’

As each item was ticked off the list, Alex’s heart grew heavier. He wanted to ask what Kit thought of it. Did she like it? ‘What about the nursery?’ He latched onto that as a last straw.

‘She wants to decorate the nursery herself.’

She’d asked him to help her. His shoulders sagged. She didn’t want his help any more. She didn’t want to clap eyes on him ever again.

Not that he could blame her.

‘So your job here is done.’

‘I guess so.’ The words emerged slowly, reluctantly. So why didn’t it feel done?

‘Did you know that Doreen and I lost a child?’

Alex swung around.

‘It was a long time ago. Benji—he was nine. The sweetest little kid. Cancer.’

Alex stared. Final y he shook himself. ‘Frank, I had no idea.’ At least Chad was playing somewhere, happy, with his whole life to look forward to. ‘Mate, I’m real y sorry.’

Frank nodded. ‘That kind of thing, it can tear your life apart, you know?’

He nodded. He knew.

‘I’m ashamed to admit it, but I took to drinking for a while.’

Alex’s lips twisted. ‘They cal it self-medication these days.’

Frank snorted. ‘That’s just rot!’

They both stared out at the golden curve of beach spread out before them, at the clear water in the Rock Pool with its tiny waves breaking right on the shoreline. So calm, so peaceful, belying the swirl of emotions that slugged through Alex. ‘What got you through it?’ he final y asked.

‘I had Doreen and three other kiddies, al who needed me. When I realized I was letting them down, I…’ The older man’s voice broke. Alex found his eyes burning. ‘I suddenly realized that Benji, if he knew how I was behaving, he would’ve been ashamed of me.’

Alex raised his knees, rested his elbows on them and dropped his head to his hands. Sand from his hands ground against his forehead but he didn’t care. He ached for Frank and for al the other man had been through, but their situations were not the same.

‘You going to join me for one last swim, lad?’

Alex nodded and fol owed Frank down to the water. He grimaced at the term Frank had used

— last swim. It sounded like a condemned man’s last supper. When his feet hit the water he had to admit that it felt that way too. He didn’t bother waiting for his body to adjust to the change of temperature. He dived straight in and started slicing through the water, pushing his body harder and faster. No matter how fast he went, his thoughts raced faster.

Kit’s house was finished. There was nothing more he could do here. It was time to return to Sydney, or…

Or what? Stay holed up in his hotel room like some damn hideaway?

He kicked his legs harder, pumped his arms faster, did lap after lap along the net of the Rock Pool until eventual y he thought his lungs would burst.

Pool until eventual y he thought his lungs would burst.

Halting, he shook the water out of his eyes and dragged an agonised breath into his body. Frank stroked up and down not too far away.

Given

Frank

and

Doreen’s

unrelenting

cheerfulness, the way they were always eager for a chat, Alex would never have guessed that they had met with such tragedy in their lives.

Frank’s voice sounded through him. ‘I had Doreen and three other kiddies, all who needed me.’

If his grandfather had taken Frank’s attitude when Alex’s mother had left home and married against his wishes instead of shoring himself up with bitterness and anger, he’d have gained a son-in-law and a grandchild who’d have loved him unconditional y.

Instead, he died with al his wealth, but not a soul at his bedside.

Alex shook his head, turned to rest against the net and stare out towards the channel. He couldn’t see Kit’s rock from here, but—

He froze.

In his mind he’d just given his grandfather a choice. That same choice was open to him too.

His stomach rol ed over and over as if he’d swal owed a gal on of saltwater. In his hurt, his grandfather had turned his back on the people he loved and had cut himself off. Frank had turned towards the people he loved. In providing them with the support and care—the love—that they needed, it had mended his heart.

He glanced at Frank and the message Kit had been trying to impart suddenly hit him. Love made a person stronger, not weaker. He pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose, his mind spinning. Turning away from love was the easy thing to do, but a real man didn’t turn away from the people who needed him.

The knowledge poured into him, making him feel ful er and more real than he had in weeks. Than he had in two years.

Memories of Chad pounded through him—Chad,

hot and grumpy from teething. Chad, tearing the Christmas wrapping from his presents one Christmas morning. Chad, completely absorbed watching a Labrador puppy. His chest cramped, a groan broke from him, but he didn’t push the memories away. He readied himself for crashing waves of grief, but…

The pain didn’t get any worse. It didn’t take him over, bury him or send him mad. It didn’t cover him in despair. And as he fol owed the memories as they flitted through his mind, he even found himself starting to smile. Chad had been a great little kid.

He’d brought laughter and love and tenderness into al the lives he’d touched. Into Alex’s life.

The answer to Kit’s last question came to him bright and shining and ful of promise then. He wouldn’t give back a single moment he’d had with Chad. If he’d known that one day Chad would be whisked away from him, he’d have done al he could to have spent more time with him, not less.

He couldn’t walk away from Kit and their baby.

They needed him. They loved him. Such a gift should be treasured. He should be giving thanks for it every day, not walking away from it. He should be doing everything in his power to make them happy—to make them feel as loved and blessed as he was.

He swore and scrambled for the shore and then swung back to grab Frank. ‘Frank, I’ve gotta go! I’l talk to you later, al right?’

‘Rightio, lad.’

Alex turned and bolted for the shore. When he reached the beach he bolted towards the car park, half-fal ing in the soft sand in his haste. Al he had to do now was convince Kit to take a chance on him.

Again. He swal owed and hoped he hadn’t stretched her love so far that it had snapped.

He hoped she would agree to see him.

‘Kit!’ Caro slammed her hands to her hips. ‘Get down from there at once! Pregnant women should not climb ladders.’

Kit tried to find a grin, but from the expression on her friend’s face it wasn’t a very successful one. ‘It’s only a stepladder. I’m only on the second rung. I’m barely two feet off the ground.’ She was trying to attach the wal paper frieze to the wal . She’d thought decorating the nursery might lift her spirits.

She’d thought wrong.

The wal paper frieze fluttered to the floor.

Decorating a nursery should be a joyous occasion. She hadn’t found much occasion for joy since Alex had left, though.

She pushed the thought away. She’d made a pact with herself to stop thinking about Alex. So she forced herself to grin again at Caro. ‘Ooh, look, pregnant woman on a stepladder! Must mean she’s going to fal .’ She gave a mock wobble, back-pedaling with her arms as if fighting to find her balance.

Caro rol ed her eyes. ‘In al the movies the woman only fal s when the hero storms into the room, so he can catch her in his arms and kiss her.’

‘Yeah, wel , not going to happen here.’ Her socal ed hero had roared out of town so fast they hadn’t seen him for dust. He hadn’t phoned, he hadn’t emailed, he hadn’t nothing! She bit her lip. She had been pretty adamant, though, and for once it seemed that Alex had listened.

She thrust out her chin. Darn man!

‘Jeez, Kit!’ A large shape loomed in the doorway and her heart hammered al the way up into her throat. ‘What the hel are you doing on a stepladder?’

Alex!

This time her wobble wasn’t feigned. She recovered herself and clambered down before she real y did fal . She wouldn’t let him catch her.

She couldn’t let him touch her.

‘What on earth are you doing here?’ She wasn’t dreaming, was she? She hadn’t conjured him up through the sheer force of her longing?

But, as his dark malt scent hit her, she knew she wasn’t dreaming. She wanted to cry. She’d just about rid her house of that scent.

‘Alex?’ She did al she could to make her voice hard and demanding, which was difficult given that she could hardly breathe.

He looked delightful y and deliciously adrift.

No! He wasn’t delightful y and deliciously anything.

‘Find me a meat cleaver,’ Caro muttered.

Decision suddenly stamped itself al over his face.

It took her breath away.

‘Caro—’ his hands descended to her friend’s shoulders ‘—if I can’t make this right I’l meat cleaver myself. You have my word on it. But until then—’ he propel ed Caro out of the door ‘—I need you to give me and Kit ten.’

‘Kit?’

It hurt her to see him. It was wonderful too. ‘It’s okay.’

Caro shrugged and held her right hand up to her ear as if holding a phone. ‘Cal me.’

Kit swal owed and nodded. ‘I wil .’

Caro left before Alex could close the door on her.

‘Leave the door open,’ Kit said as Alex went to close it.

Shadows chased themselves across his face. ‘So you can cal for Caro?’

No, so she could breathe! His scent beat at her, making her light-headed. Not that she had any intention of confessing that.

She cursed her weakness for this man. And then She cursed her weakness for this man. And then had to swal ow at the baby’s sudden activity. As if it too sensed Alex in the room and couldn’t contain its excitement. The thought sent pain shooting through her heart.

She folded her arms and lifted her chin, stared at his throat. ‘What are you doing here, Alex? As you can see, the work on the house is done.’ Except for the nursery. And Alex wasn’t interested in the nursery.

He wasn’t interested in the baby.

He wasn’t interested in her.

Final y, she lifted her eyes to his and her heart started to pound as loud and hard as their baby’s kicks. The expression in his eyes, it said otherwise

—that he was interested. Real y, truly, seriously interested.

She swal owed, stuck out a hip. She’d been wrong about him before.

A ridiculous shyness, a ludicrous nervousness, made her hands shake and tangled her tongue.

‘The house looks great.’

It did.

He suddenly frowned. ‘May I have a look at the bathroom?’

She gestured for him to go right ahead. It was easier than saying anything. It provided her with an opportunity to feast her eyes on him as he surveyed the newly appointed bathroom.

‘Do you like the shower unit?’

That unglued her tongue. She transferred her gaze from him to it and shook her head. ‘It’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever clapped eyes on, Alex.’ Its fibreglass starkness seemed at odds with the rest of the room.

‘What on earth were you thinking?’

‘If it wasn’t for that shower unit I wouldn’t be here.

It’s that shower unit that’s made me come to my senses.’

She pressed a hand to her forehead. The man had gone mad.

‘And you. And Frank.’

She pul ed her hand away, narrowed her eyes.

Frank had been wonderful these past two weeks—

solicitous and caring, offering her practical help but giving her space too when he sensed she needed it.

The turncoat! He’d known Alex was here and he hadn’t—

‘He made me realize that running away from you and our child was the worst thing I could do.’

She promptly lowered the brand new lid of the toilet and sat before she fel . She covered her face with both hands. ‘Alex, please don’t do this to me. I can’t stand it. Me and the baby, we don’t want your guilt and your sense of duty and responsibility.’ She got that, she real y did, but… ‘That’s not what we need.’

‘Tel me what you do need, Kit.’

His voice, its intensity, made her lift her head. ‘We need your joy, Alex. We need your joy and your happiness, and we need your love.’ She dragged in a breath that made her whole frame shake.

She closed her eyes and counted to three. When she opened them again, Alex was stil there. She frowned. ‘I know those things are not on offer. I understand that you don’t have them to give. But please, don’t torture me with consolation prizes. I…I can’t stand it.’

He sat on the side of the bathtub so they were eye to eye. ‘But what if they are on offer, Kit? What if I tel you I’ve found my joy, my happiness and my love?

What if I tel you I’ve found al those things?’ He reached over and flattened his hand against her baby bump. ‘What if I tel you I know those things are here in this room with me? Kit, what if I tel you that you and our baby…’

She blinked. He’d said our baby. Not her baby or the baby but our baby!

‘…that you are my joy and my happiness and my love?’

She gripped her hands together. The only thing keeping her steady was his hand on her baby bump.

‘If you did by some miracle say those things to me, I’d say that you’d have a hard time convincing me of their truth.’

But his eyes, his smile, the light shining in his face and the way his hand curved against her stomach.

Al those things told her that he spoke the truth.

He leaned towards her. ‘Frank told me about Benji.’

Her jaw went slack. That meant Frank trusted Alex. Real y trusted him.

‘And that’s when I realized what you’d been trying to show me al along—that love isn’t a weakness, it’s a strength. And that’s when I could final y answer that last question you asked me.’

He met her gaze—strong and steadfast. ‘I would He met her gaze—strong and steadfast. ‘I would not give up a single moment I had with Chad.’

The truth shone from every inch of his being. Hope lifted through her. She tried to keep it in check while she took in the deeper meaning of his words.

‘I don’t want to waste a single moment of the time I’m given with you and our child either. It’s too precious. I want to treasure it.’

He went down on one knee in front of her. Her hope burst free. ‘Alex! You can’t propose to me when I’m sitting on a toilet!’

His grin when it came was slow and sexy as al get out. ‘Considering I stayed in town because of that darn shower unit, I think the bathroom is the perfect place to propose to you.’

She glanced at the shower unit.

‘I’l explain it to you later,’ he promised, taking her hand. ‘What I have to say now is much more important, believe me.’

Oh, she did. When he looked at her like that she’d believe anything.

‘Kit, what happened with Jacqui and Chad, for a long time I thought that must have been my fault. I figured that if I’d been a better father and husband, they wouldn’t have left like that.’

‘Oh, Alex.’ She cupped his face with her free hand.

‘But I’ve started to realize it doesn’t prove I’m either a bad husband or a bad father. I just wasn’t the right husband for Jacqui. And, if I’m truly honest, she was never the right wife for me. It took a long time for me to realize that because I was so busy counting al the similarities between my grandfather and me. I thought his coldness and bitterness were part of my genetic make-up too. But my mother wasn’t like that.

‘There’s no reason why I have to be like him either. He had choices too. He made the wrong choices.’ His eyes didn’t drop from hers, not once. ‘I don’t have to be like him unless I choose to be. And, Kit—’ his grip tightened about her hand ‘—I’m choosing not to be.’

She stil held his face cupped in her hand and she couldn’t help herself, she leaned forward and pressed her lips to his.

He kissed her back—gently, wonderingly and with the same love that had splintered her mind when he’d kissed her at the breakwater that day.

He gripped her by the shoulders and pul ed back.

‘No way! No more of that.’

Her eyes bugged.

He smiled that slow, sexy grin. ‘Until you tel me that you’l be my wife.’ His expression sobered. ‘Kit, I love you more than I ever dreamt it was possible to love another person. I wil spend every single moment of every single day making you and our children happy. I swear.’

Her breath hitched. ‘Children?’

‘I hope so,’ he murmured. ‘You do want more children, don’t you? We’d want brothers and sisters for junior here.’

Through a blur she desperately tried to blink away, she nodded. She wanted children, she wanted the life he’d described. She wanted him. ‘I love you, Alex. You, this baby, this bathroom—’ she suddenly laughed ‘—it’s al I’ve ever wanted. Yes, I wil marry you!’

With a whoop, Alex swung her up and around and kissed her til she could barely breathe. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back.

She didn’t know how long they stayed like that.

She only knew that it was quite some time—a wonderful, magical, I-can’t-believe-this-is-happening time. Alex rested his forehead against hers. She swore she could stare into those dark eyes of his for al of time. ‘Are you sure this is what you want?’ she whispered. This had been such a hard road for him.

If he needed more time…

‘I’ve never been surer of anything in my life. I’m only sorry it took me so long to come to my senses.

Knowing that I hurt you—’

‘Shh.’ She reached up to brush the frown from his brow. ‘It’s the future we look towards now, not the past.’

He seized her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm. ‘Kit, I don’t have much to offer you. I don’t have any family and I’ve only a few friends…’

She smiled then. ‘Alex, I don’t think there’s another bil ionaire on the planet who would ever say that they didn’t have much to offer.’ She took his hand then and pressed a kiss to his palm. ‘I have enough friends and family for us both. We’l make our own family. Alex, al I want is your heart.’

‘It’s yours.’

She went to kiss him again and then stopped, cocked her head to one side. ‘Can you hear that?’

cocked her head to one side. ‘Can you hear that?’

‘Hear what?’ he said, nuzzling the side of her neck.

Mmm. She wrapped her arms around his neck and…

She cocked her head to the side again.

‘Someone is singing in the back garden.’

He lifted his head. ‘They are?’

She took his hand and led him through the house and al the way out to the back door and then stumbled to a halt as four sets of eyes swung to them

—Caro, Frank, Doreen and Davey, who was singing.

‘Wel ?’ Caro demanded.

‘Speak up, lad,’ Frank ordered. ‘Do we al get to dance at your wedding?’

Alex’s grin threatened to split his face in two. Kit’s breath caught. She’d never seen him look so happy.

If she’d had any doubts left about his feelings for her, they’d be gone now. He glanced at her and she nodded.

He held his arms out. ‘You’re looking at the happiest man on the planet. Kit’s agreed to marry me.’

Frank popped a bottle of champagne as Caro and Doreen swamped them in hugs.

‘Ooh, I shouldn’t,’ Kit said when Doreen pressed a glass of champagne into her hand.

‘Tsk! In my day it was considered healthful to take a glass of beer in the evenings. Never did any of us any harm. A thimbleful won’t hurt you any.’

Doreen was right. Her doctor had said the same.

A sip or two wouldn’t hurt her. It was only right they celebrate the happiest day of her life.

‘To Kit and Alex,’ Frank boomed, raising his glass. ‘Many congratulations!’

They al lifted their glasses—even Davey, who had a champagne flute ful of lemonade—and drank.

Kit snagged Caro’s arm. ‘You wil be my bridesmaid, won’t you?’

‘You bet!’ She slanted a grin at Alex. ‘The meat cleaver gets them every time.’

He laughed and kissed Caro’s cheek. ‘Had me shaking in my boots.’

Caro nearly spluttered champagne al over them.

‘Liar!’

She sobered a moment later. ‘Okay, so when are you going to have the wedding? Before or after the baby is born?’

‘After,’ Kit said at the same moment Alex said,

‘Before.’

Caro grinned. ‘Right, so you’ve discussed it then?’

Kit turned to Alex. ‘I thought you might want some time to get used to the idea.’

‘This isn’t some idea, Kit. This is my life—our life.’

He reached out and touched her face with sure fingers that made her breath quicken. His thumb trailed a path down to the corner of her mouth. ‘I know what I want and that’s you and the baby.’

She’d never seen him look more serious in al the time she’d known him. Her chest expanded and she could’ve sworn the only thing keeping her from floating off into the stratosphere and turning weightless somersaults was his hand on her face, with that maddening thumb brushing back and forth at the corner of her mouth. She reached up and seized it before it tempted her to do something that would make her blush.

‘So…’ She kept her eyes fixed on his. ‘Before the baby, then? We’l get married before the baby is born?’

He nodded, his eyes intent. ‘Yes.’

A smile built through her. ‘In the first weekend Mum can make it down to give me away.’

‘Am I rushing you?’ He suddenly frowned.

‘Weddings traditional y take a long time to organise, don’t they?’

She didn’t want him to frown; she wanted him smiling. ‘I’ve never much cared about al the trappings that go along with a wedding. I’d be happy to have the ceremony here in the garden.’

‘Won’t fit,’ Caro said, sipping her champagne.

‘Lovey, you’d be better off at the community hal in your grandmother’s retirement vil age. She can organise one of her luncheons for you.’

Kit glanced up at Alex. ‘What do you think?’

‘Does it mean you’re going to marry me sooner rather than later?’

She grinned. ‘It does.’

His lips descended to hers. ‘Then it sounds perfect to me.’

‘Mmm,’ she murmured against his lips. Perfect was exactly how it sounded.

ISBN: 978-1-4592-8208-7

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Copyright © 2011 by Michel e Douglas

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