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Her heart was still racing and the frantic pounding almost drowned out the sound of the footsteps. That made her pause. This had to be the world’s noisiest burglar. She hadn’t had much experience with burglars but surely they would generally try to be quiet? This one was making absolutely no attempt to be silent. Plus he had turned the lights on. Definitely not stealthy.
He was a terrible burglar, possibly one of the worst ever.
But maybe he thought the house was empty? Perhaps she should make some noise? Enough noise for two people.
She heard the soft pop as the seal on the fridge door was broken. She frowned. Now he was looking in the fridge? Making himself at home. She was positive it wasn’t Callum. Luci had spoken to Flick earlier in the day. Callum had well and truly arrived in Vickers Hill and according to her friend he was creating a bit of a stir. Luci hoped he wasn’t going to prove difficult—he was supposed to be making things easier for her dad, not harder, but she couldn’t do much about it. All it meant to her was that it wasn’t Callum in the apartment. And she was pretty sure by now that it wasn’t a burglar either, but that still meant a stranger was in the house.
She needed to get dressed.
She switched on the bedside light and was halfway out of bed when she heard the footsteps moving along the passage. While she was debating her options she saw the bedroom door handle moving.
OMG, they were coming in.
‘You’d better get out of here. I’ve called the police,’ she yelled, not knowing what else to do.
The door handle continued to turn and a voice said, ‘You’ve done what?’
When it became obvious that the person who belonged to the voice was intent on entering her room she jumped back into bed and pulled the covers up to her chin, grabbing her phone just in case she did need to call the cops.
‘I’ll scream,’ she added for good measure.
But the door continued to open and a vision appeared. Luci wondered briefly if she was dreaming. Her heart was racing at a million miles an hour but now she had no clue whether it was due to nerves, fear, panic or simple lust. This intruder might just be the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on. Surely someone this gorgeous couldn’t be evil?
But then Ted Bundy sprang to mind. He was a good-looking, charming, educated man who just happened to be a serial killer. ‘Don’t come any closer,’ she said.
He stopped and held his hands out to his sides. ‘I’m not going to hurt you, but who the hell are you and what are you doing in my room?’ he said.
‘Your room?’
Was this Callum? She was certain she’d chosen the guest bedroom but, anyway, what was he doing here? He couldn’t have got back to Sydney that quickly. He was supposed to be a thousand miles away, staying in her house. That was how a house swap worked. ‘Why aren’t you in Vickers Hill?’
‘What the heck is Vickers Hill?’
Luci frowned. ‘Who are you?’
He couldn’t be Callum. So whose room was she in exactly?
‘Seb. Seb Hollingsworth.’
Seb.
‘You’re not Callum?’
A crease appeared between his superb blue eyes as he frowned. ‘No. I’m his brother.’
Luci almost missed his answer, distracted as she was by the thick, dark eyelashes that framed his eyes.
‘Brother!’ Why hadn’t Callum warned her? She sat up in the bed, taking care to make sure the sheets prevented any sort of indecent exposure. ‘Callum didn’t mention you.’
‘So you do know Cal, then?’
‘Sort of.’
He lifted one eyebrow but said nothing.
Luci could play that game too. And she used the silent seconds to examine the vision a little more closely.
He truly was gorgeous. Tall, really tall, with thick dark hair, chestnut she’d call it. He had eyebrows to match that shaded piercing blue eyes and a nose that may or may not have been broken once upon a time. His lips were full and pink, and a two-day growth of beard darkened his jaw.
His torso was bare but he held what appeared to be a black T-shirt in his hand. Just what had he been planning on doing? she wondered, before she was distracted again by his broad shoulders and smooth chest. He reminded her of someone, she thought as her eyes roamed over his body.
The statue of David, she thought, brought to life. He was made of warm flesh instead of cool marble but had the same, startling level of perfection.
Her heart was still beating a rapid tattoo. Adrenaline was still coursing through her system but not out of fear. Now it was a simple chemical, or maybe hormonal, reaction.
‘I think you have some explaining to do,’ said the living, breathing statue.
In Luci’s opinion so did Callum, Seb’s absent brother, and she was blowed if she was going to explain herself while she lay in bed naked. She clutched the sheet a little more tightly across her breasts. ‘Let me get dressed and then we can talk.’
The corner of Seb’s mouth lifted in a wry smile and there was a wicked gleam in his blue eyes. Luci felt a burst of heat explode in her belly and she knew that the heat would taint her body with a blush of pink. She could feel the warmth spreading up over her chest and neck as Seb continued to stand in the doorway. Did he know the effect he was having on her? She had to get rid of him.
‘Can you give me a minute?’ she asked.
‘Sure, sorry,’ he replied, looking anything but sorry. ‘And while you’re at it,’ he added, glancing at the phone that was still clutched in her hand along with the sheet, ‘do you think you could ring the police and tell them it was just a misunderstanding? I don’t want the neighbours getting the wrong idea.’
‘I didn’t actually ring the police,’ Luci admitted.
He turned and left the room, pulling the door closed behind him, and she could hear him laughing, a deep, cheerful sound that lifted her spirits.
Luci waited to hear his footsteps retreat before she was brave enough to throw off the sheets once more. She climbed out of bed on shaky legs and pulled on a T-shirt and a pair of shorts. She padded down the hallway to the open-plan lounge and kitchen to find Seb with his head in the fridge, giving her a very nice view of a tidy rear covered in denim. His bare feet poked out of the bottom of his jeans.
She stepped around a pile of luggage that had been dumped beside the couch. A brown leather jacket was draped over a duffel bag and a motorbike helmet sat on the floor beside a pair of sturdy boots, the boots that had been stomping down the passage. There was a thick layer of reddish-brown dust covering everything.
She ducked through the kitchen and into the dining area, where she stood on the far side of the table, putting some distance between them. Despite the fact that he looked like something created by Michelangelo and appeared to be related to the owner of the house, she wasn’t prepared to take his word for it just yet. Until she’d decided he wasn’t a serial killer she wasn’t taking any chances.
He stood up and turned to face her. His chest was now covered by his black T-shirt—that was a pity—and he had two small bottles of beer in his hand.
‘Beer?’ he asked as he raised his hand.
Luci shook her head.
He put one bottle back in the fridge, closed the door and then twisted the top off the other bottle and took a swig. He watched her as she watched him but he didn’t seem as nervous as her. Not nearly.
He stepped over to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down. He pushed the chair back and stretched his legs out. He was tall. His legs were long. He was fiddling with the beer bottle and she couldn’t help but notice that his fingers were long and slender too.
He lifted his eyes up to meet her gaze. ‘So, sleeping beauty, do you have a name?’
‘Luci.’
‘Luci,’ he repeated, stretching out the two syllables, and the way the ‘u’ rolled off his tongue did funny things to her insides.
‘So where’s my big brother? And why are you in my bed?’
Luci swallowed nervously. His bed? Of course, his room, his bed. That warmth in her belly spread lower now, threatening to melt her already wobbly legs just a little bit more.
‘I didn’t know it was your bed. I didn’t know anyone else lived here.’
Callum hadn’t said anything but she’d never actually spoken to Callum. Not that she was about to divulge that bit of information. That would just come across as odd. Her dad’s practice manager had organised the whole house-swap thing. Luci had exchanged emails with Callum and had been intending on meeting to swap keys but he had messaged her to say his plans had changed. He’d left Sydney a day earlier than they had discussed so he’d left a key under a flowerpot for her, but she was certain he hadn’t mentioned a brother. Not at any stage.
So what did this mean for her house-sitting plans? Would Seb ask her to leave? Would Callum?
‘So where is he?’ Seb wanted to know. ‘Should I be checking the rest of the house? You haven’t done away with him, have you? Did he treat you badly and you’ve sneaked in here to have your revenge?’
Luci laughed and wondered about the type of women Seb associated with if that was the direction his thoughts took him. ‘He’s in Vickers Hill.’
‘Ah, Vickers Hill. You mentioned it before. Where is that exactly?’ Seb arched his right eyebrow again and Luci found herself wondering if he could also do that with the left one. The idea distracted her and she almost forgot his question.
‘In South Australia. In the Clare Valley,’ she explained as she stepped into the kitchen. She needed to put some distance between them. To give herself something to do, she switched the kettle on, taking a mug and a green tea bag from the cupboard.
Seb took another pull of his beer. ‘What is he doing there?’
‘He’s gone to work in a general practice. It’s part of his studies.’ She didn’t mention that he was working with her father. If Callum wanted his brother to know what he was up to, he could tell him the finer details. But Seb not knowing Callum’s movements only led to more questions. Where had Seb been? Why didn’t he know what was happening? His room certainly didn’t look inhabited. It had looked exactly like a guest room, which was what Luci had expected. There had been no sign of his presence other than a few clothes in the wardrobe, which she had assumed was the overflow from Callum’s room. But perhaps those clothes belonged to Seb.
‘So, if Cal’s in Vickers Hill, what are you doing here?’
‘We’ve done a house swap,’ she replied as she poured boiled water into her mug.
‘A house swap?’ he repeated. ‘How long are you staying?’
‘Eight weeks. Until Christmas.’ Please, don’t ask me to leave tonight, she thought. She was half-resigned to the fact that her plans were about to change but she really didn’t want to pack her bags and find somewhere else to stay in the middle of the night. This was her first trip to Sydney. ‘If that’s all right,’ she added, pleading desperately. She had no idea where she’d go if he asked her to leave. Back to Bondi, she supposed, but the prospect of doing that at this late hour was not at all appealing.
Seb shrugged. ‘It’s Cal’s house, whatever plans you’ve made with him stick. I just crash here when I’m in town. I called it my room but, I guess, technically it’s not.’
Luci wondered where he’d been. Where he’d come from. But she was too tired to think about that now.
‘I’ll stay in Callum’s room,’ he added.
‘Thank you.’ She threw her tea bag in the bin and picked up her mug. ‘I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then.’
She took her tea and retreated. Seb looked interesting and she was certainly intrigued. He was giving her more questions than answers and she needed, wanted, to find out more, but it would have to wait. She had to get some sleep.
But sleep eluded her. She tossed and turned and wondered about Seb. Maybe she should have just stayed up and got all the answers tonight. Instead she lay in bed and made up stories in her head, filling in all the blank spaces about the handsome stranger with imagined details.
It wasn’t often she got to meet a stranger. And a gorgeous, fascinating one to boot. In Vickers Hill everyone knew everyone else and their business. Meeting someone new was quite thrilling compared to what she was used to. Excitement bubbled in her chest. A whole new world of possibilities might open up to her.
She smiled to herself as she rolled over.
Things had just become interesting.
CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_4e91cce1-10cb-5ccb-b5b2-50804ec7aab0)
SEB PUT HIS empty beer bottle down on the kitchen table and stared out at the dark ocean through the branches of the eucalyptus. He could hear the waves lapping on the shore and could see the lights of the yachts rising and falling on the water. He’d missed the sound of the ocean but he wasn’t thinking about the water or the boats or the lights now. He was thinking about the woman he’d found in his bed. The absolutely stunning, and very naked, woman.
It had been a surprise, to put it mildly. He detested surprises normally—experience had taught him that they were generally unpleasant—but he couldn’t complain about this one. He’d found women in his bed unexpectedly before but he couldn’t recall any of them being quite as attractive as Luci.
He closed his eyes but his mind was restless and he couldn’t settle. He should be exhausted. He’d had a long and dusty eight-hour ride from Deniliquin and he’d been looking forward to a shower, something to eat and then bed. In that order. That had been his plan until he’d discovered Luci in his bed. His plan had been delightfully disrupted by a gorgeous naked woman.
He wasn’t sure that he really understood why she was here. Or why Cal wasn’t. He hadn’t spoken to his brother for several weeks. They didn’t have that sort of relationship. Seb wasn’t even in the habit of calling ahead to let Callum know he would be in town. They were close but unless there was a reason for a call neither of them picked up the phone. And when they did their conversations were brief, borne out of necessity only and usually avoided if possible.
Seb had tried to talk to Cal after Cal had been injured in a cricketing accident, an accident that had almost cost him his left eye, but even then they had never got to the heart of the problem. Neither of them were much good at discussing their feelings.
But despite their lack of communication they still shared a brotherly bond. They had relied on each other growing up. The sons of high-achieving surgeons, they had spent a lot of time by themselves, supervised only by nannies. Perhaps that was why they had never learned to discuss their feelings—the nannies certainly hadn’t encouraged it and Seb couldn’t remember many family dinners or even much support in times of crisis. Not that there had been many crises, just one big one for each of them in their adult lives. They’d been lucky really.
But their childhood bonds had remained strong and Cal had always had a bed for him. Until now. Which brought him back to the question of what Luci was really doing here. And what did it mean for him?
He ran his hands through his hair. It was thick with dust and sweat from hours encased in a helmet. He still needed a shower. The sea breeze wafted through the balcony doors, carrying with it the fresh scent of salt. Perhaps he should go for a swim instead. The cool water of Sydney Harbour might be just what he needed to stop his brain from turning in circles.
There was no light coming from under Luci’s door so he stripped off his jeans in the living room and pulled a pair of swimming shorts from his duffel bag. He left his house key under the flowerpot on the back balcony and jogged barefooted down the stairs and crossed the road to the beach. The sand was cool and damp under his feet and the water was fresh.
He didn’t hesitate. He took three steps into the sea and dived under the water. He surfaced several metres offshore but the water was shallow enough that he could still stand. The sea was calm and gentle and refreshing but it wasn’t enough to stop his head from spinning with unanswered questions.
Vickers Hill, South Australia. He’d never heard of Vickers Hill. How the hell had Callum ever found it? But if the girls there looked like Luci, he couldn’t blame him for wanting to visit.
He turned and looked back across the beach to the apartment block. It was a small complex, only three floors, and Callum’s apartment took up the top floor, but there was nothing to see as it was all in darkness. But he could imagine Luci, sleeping in his bed. The image of her, at the moment he’d first seen her, filled his mind.
In his bed with the sheets pulled up to her chin, her blue-grey eyes huge with apprehension. He’d got just as much of a shock as she had but at least he’d been semi-clothed. He’d been unable to see anything but he’d known that beneath those sheets, his sheets, she had been as naked as the day she was born.
As she had sat up in bed the covers had slipped down, exposing the swell of her breasts, before she’d clutched the sheet tightly, pulling it firmly across her chest. He’d had his T-shirt in his hand, halfway to the shower when he’d discovered her, and he’d had to surreptitiously move his hand so the T-shirt had covered his groin and his reaction. It had been pure and primal. Lust, desire.
He knew he’d let his eyes linger on her for a few seconds too long to be considered polite. Had she noticed?
Her eyes had watched him carefully. Her face was round with a heart-shaped chin and she had lips like a ripe peach. She was thin but not skinny and she had firm, round breasts that it was impossible not to notice. He’d seen them rise and fall under the sheet as she’d panicked. He could have happily watched her breathing all night.
His eyes had been drawn to four small, dark freckles that made a diamond shape against the pale skin on her chest. One sat about an inch below her collarbone, another on the swell of her right breast with a matching one on the left, and the fourth one, the one that formed the bottom of the diamond, was tucked into her cleavage. The pattern was stamped on his memory.
He should have given her some privacy, backed out of the room, but he’d been transfixed.
He closed his eyes now and floated on his back but he could still see Luci’s pale skin decorated with the perfect diamond imprinted on the backs of his eyelids. It was late and he was physically exhausted but he knew there was no way he’d be able to sleep. Not yet.
He flipped onto his front and swam further into the harbour. In the pale starlight he could see the outline of his boat tied to its mooring. With long, fluid strokes he passed several other boats floating on the water as he swam out to his cabin cruiser.
His hands gripped the ladder at the stern and he pulled himself up onto the small ledge at the rear. He ran his hand over the smooth, sleek lines of the cabin as he made his way round to the large, flat bow. He stretched, resting his back against the windscreen. This boat was his sanctuary. He’d bought it almost three years ago as a project. It had good lines and plenty of potential and had been advertised as needing some TLC or a handyman’s touch. He was no builder but he was good with his hands and he’d figured the learning curve would keep his mind occupied, which was just what he’d needed at the time. He had needed a project, a focus, something to keep him busy, so he could avoid dealing with his alternate reality.
Three years down the track he had made good progress emotionally but he couldn’t say the same about the boat. It was still far from finished, although he had managed to get it to the stage where he could enjoy a day out. The engine worked, as did the toilet, but the kitchen and sleeping berths still needed serious attention. That was his current project, one he intended to finish while he was back in Sydney this time. He had an appointment scheduled for tomorrow evening to meet a cabinet-maker who was, hopefully, going to make new cupboards for the kitchen. While it was far from perfect, it didn’t matter. It was perfect for him.
The boat represented freedom.
Seb didn’t want to be tied down and the boat gave him a sense of having a place in the world without commitment. Eventually, when the renovation was completed, he planned to live aboard. Having a boat as his place of residence appealed immensely as he could close it up and leave or take it with him. It would be a fluid living arrangement, transient enough that he didn’t have to think of living aboard as settling down. It wasn’t a big commitment.
