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‘The honeymoon couple were a bit much for you, were they?’ Her eyes danced in sympathy, demanding that he smile in return.
‘You know my father and Daisy?’
‘I certainly do.’ She grinned. ‘Until she met your father, Daisy had her name down here as a potential resident.’
‘Oh, yeah.’ Right.
‘They’re very happy,’ she said—and waited.
And out it came. ‘They’re always happy.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘My father’s been married four times.’ It was impossible to keep the bitterness from his voice.
She thought about that. Looking at his face, she saw the layers of pain behind the bald fact.
‘Divorce?’
‘Death. Every time.’
That made it so much worse. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘Yeah.’ He gave a laugh that came out harsher than he’d intended. ‘You’d think he’d learn.’
‘That people die?’
‘Yes.’
‘You can be unlucky,’ Amy said softly. ‘Or you can be lucky. I guess your dad has had rotten luck.’
‘He keeps trying to replace…’
‘Your mother?’
He caught himself. What was he saying? He was talking as if she was really interested. As if he wanted to share…
She was a nurse. A medical colleague. He didn’t get close to medical colleagues.
He didn’t get close to anyone.
But she’d seen the expression on his face. She knew he needed to move on.
‘But you do have two weeks’ holiday, right?’ she probed. ‘Being stuck here isn’t a disaster.’
‘I’ll get out.’
‘How?’
That stymied him. ‘I guess…when it stops raining…’
‘If it stops raining.’
‘There’s no need to sound like a prophet of doom,’ he snapped. ‘It’ll rain for forty days and forty nights so collect your cats and dogs and unicorns and build a boat…’
She chuckled. ‘OK. When it stops raining. But it’ll take some time to get the bridge repaired. Maybe we can get a ferry working.’
‘I could get out by helicopter.’ But he sounded dubious and for good reason.
‘Even when it stops raining I doubt you’ll persuade one to land here unless it’s an emergency. Being weary of watching your father and his new wife cuddle each other might not fit into the category of emergency.’
‘The sea…’
‘Have you seen the harbour? There’s no way a boat’s putting to sea until this weather dies.’ She shrugged. ‘Sure, there are boats which will bring supplies when the weather backs off but until then… I’m afraid you’re stuck with us, Joss.’
He liked the way she said his name, he decided. It was sort of lilting. Different.
But he had more important things to think of than lilting voices. His own voice took on a hint of desperation. ‘I can’t go back to stay with Dad and Daisy. I’m going around the twist!’
‘That bad?’
‘They hold hands. Over the breakfast table!’
Amy choked on laughter. ‘So you’re not a romantic, Dr Braden. Well, I never. And you with that T-shirt.’
He had the grace to grin. ‘OK. Despite the T-shirt, I’m not a romantic. Is there a hotel in town?’
‘Nope.’
Sigh. ‘I don’t suppose there’s a room available here.’
‘You don’t suppose your father would be mortally offended if you stayed in a nursing home rather than with him?’
He would. Damn.
But she was thinking for him. ‘What excuse did you give—when you left so suddenly?’
‘That I had to prepare a talk for a conference. It was worrying me so I thought I’d get back early to Sydney to do some preparation.’ Then, at her look, Joss gave an exasperated sigh. ‘It’s the truth. I do.’
‘I believe you.’ Another chuckle. ‘Though thousands wouldn’t. But you’ve solved your own problem.’
‘I have?’
She hesitated, and then said slowly, as if she wasn’t sure she was doing the right thing but wanted to anyway, ‘If you need privacy then maybe you can stay at my place. It’s a great isolated spot for writing conference material.’
‘Don’t you live here?’
‘Are you kidding?’ She smiled, and he thought suddenly she shed years when she smiled. She really was extraordinarily lovely. ‘Give me a break. I’m twenty-eight years old. I’m not quite ready to live in a retirement home full time.’
Twenty-eight… What was a twenty-eight-year-old incredibly skilled theatre nurse doing in a place like Iluka?
Caring for a husband? For parents? Unconsciously he found his eyes drifting to the third finger of her left hand. Which was tucked in the folds of her dress. Damn.
‘Um…so where do you live?’
‘Millionaire’s Row.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Didn’t your father show you round the town?’
‘Yes…’ He thought back and then his eyes widened. ‘Don’t tell me you live in one of those.’
There could be no mistaking his meaning. Amy chuckled again and shrugged. ‘Of course. I live in the biggest and the most ostentatious mansion of them all, and I do so all on my lonesome. I have nine spare bedrooms and three whole spas you can choose from. You can have one and your dog another. You can tell your father that you need to be alone to write—and you can be. You can sit and write conference notes to your heart’s content and we need never see each other. If that’s what you want.’
Of course it was what he wanted. Wasn’t it? But…that smile…
Damn, there was so much here that he didn’t understand.
‘Tell you what,’ she said. ‘I have heaps to do and you have a baby and a dog to check, and maybe you need to see Sergeant Packer about your car—or what’s left of it. Lunch is at twelve and you’re very welcome to eat with us. I’m off at two. If you can keep yourself amused until then, I’ll take you home.’
‘You make me sound like a stray puppy,’ he complained, and her smile widened.
‘That’s how you sound.’
‘Hey…’
Her grey eyes twinkled. ‘I know. Nurse subordination to doctors has never been my strong point. Dreadful, isn’t it? Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider?’
But Joss was sure. He definitely didn’t want to spend any more time with his father and Daisy.
And the more he saw of Amy Freye, the more he thought a few days in the same house wouldn’t be such a bad idea.
Was he mad? What on earth was he thinking?
‘Um…no, I won’t reconsider,’ he told her, and she laughed. It was as if she knew what he was thinking, and the feeling was distinctly disconcerting.
‘Until two o’clock,’ she told him—and left him to make of her what he would.
CHAPTER THREE
THE house was stunning.
Amy drove Joss and Bertram out to Millionaire’s Row and turned her car off the road into a driveway leading to a mansion. As she had said, it was the most ostentatious house on Millionaire’s Row. Which left him more confused than ever. Amy’s car looked as if her next date was with the wrecker. Her dress was faded and shabby. She looked as if she hadn’t a penny to bless herself with, yet the house she lived in was extraordinary.
Or maybe extraordinary was an understatement.
It was set back from the beach but it had maybe a quarter of a mile of beachfront all of its own. The house was two storeys high and huge. It was built of something like white marble and the entire edifice glistened in the rain like some sort of miniature palace.
Or maybe not so miniature…
‘Wow,’ he said, stunned, and Amy looked across at him and smiled.
‘Welcome to my humble abode.’ Her smile was mocking.
‘It’s…’
‘Ostentatious? Over the top? Don’t I know it.’ She pulled into one bay of what appeared to be an eight-or ten-car garage and switched off the engine. The car spluttered to a halt, and a puff of black smoke spat out from under the bonnet.
‘Um…about your priorities…’
‘Yes?’
‘You don’t think you might do with one bedroom less and get yourself a new car?’
She appeared offended. ‘What’s wrong with my car?’
‘Er…nothing.’ He hesitated and then decided on honesty. ‘Well, actually—everything.’
‘Bertram likes it.’ She swung herself out of the car and opened the rear door for Bertram. She ran a hand under the silky velvet of his ears as he nosed his way out of his comfortable back seat, and the big dog shivered with pleasure. Amy grinned. ‘If your dog likes it, who are you to quibble? He’s a gentleman of taste if ever I saw one.’
Joss smiled in return. Her grin was infectious. Gorgeous! ‘Bertram likes smells and there’d be enough smells in your car to last a dog a lifetime. I reckon there are four or five generations of smells in that back seat.’
But she wasn’t listening to criticisms of her ancient car. She was intent on Bertram’s wonderful ears. ‘He’s lovely.’
‘You don’t have ten dogs of your own?’
‘No.’ Her voice clipped off short at that, as if collecting herself, and Joss gave her a strange look. There were so many things here that he didn’t understand.
‘Come through.’ She flicked a switch and the garage doors slid shut behind them, and then she walked up the wide steps into the house. ‘Welcome to my world.’
It grew more astonishing by the minute.
The house was vast but it contained barely a scrap of furniture. Joss walked through a wide passage leading to room after room, and each door led to a barren space. ‘What the…?’
‘I only live in the back section of the house,’ she told him over her shoulder as she walked. ‘Don’t worry. There’s a spare bed.’
He was staring around him and he was stunned. ‘You own this whole house?’
‘Sort of.’ She was leading the way into a vast kitchen-living area. Here was a simple table and two chairs, two armchairs which had seen better days and a television set. Black and white. Nothing else.
It grew curiouser and curiouser. He grew curiouser and curiouser.
‘You’ll have to explain.’
‘Why?’
Why? Of course she didn’t need to explain anything. He was her guest. She was doing him a favour by putting him up. But…
