“We start with the bride.”

The dean nodded at Tessa, and she hoped her answering smile looked better than it felt.

“You stand in front of me, dear.” He looked up at Isaac expectantly. “Could you stand in as groom for now?”

“Oh, no!” cried Tessa. And everybody looked at her curiously. This twist of fate was just too cruel. Silently she pleaded to Isaac. I can’t bear this. Please refuse. It’s not necessary.

Isaac’s eyes bored into her, full of black heat. “Yes, of course I’ll help out.”

“You won’t find yourself married to the wrong person,” the dean said with a chuckle.

“Although—” and Tessa wondered why he chose to look straight at her as he spoke “—I’m afraid there are many couples who discover too late that they’ve made the wrong choice.”

Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, Australia, educated in Brisbane and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical north Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy.

Books by Barbara Hannay

HARLEQUIN ROMANCE®

3578—OUTBACK WIFE AND MOTHER

The Wedding Countdown

Barbara Hannay

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

EPILOGUE

CHAPTER ONE

FOUR days to go…

‘It’s the most beautiful wedding dress ever!’

Tessa twirled in front of the long, oval mirror, her blue eyes shining as she watched her reflection. She turned and looked over her shoulder to examine the rear view of her elegant, low-backed gown. The exquisite detailing of the silk brocade bodice and the train of fine chiffon, drifting away from clusters of the palest of pale pink roses at her waist, combined to create a gown that was as pretty as a fairy tale.

‘It’s just perfect, darling,’ Rosalind Morrow agreed, her gaze misty as she observed her daughter’s happiness.

Flashing her mother an excited smile, Tessa paraded across the room, delighting in the luxurious rustle and whisper of expensive silk as she moved. ‘It’s going to be a dream wedding,’ she sighed happily.

‘Yes,’ replied Rosalind, but her echoing sigh didn’t sound quite so cheerful.

Tessa looked at her mother sharply. Rosalind’s expression had grown cautious, and she twisted her hands nervously.

‘Is something wrong, Mum?’ Tessa asked.

‘Of course not, darling, all the wedding plans are running like clockwork.’ But then, in contradiction to her reassuring reply, Rosalind turned away. ‘There’s absolutely nothing wrong,’ she went on with a shaky little laugh, ‘but there is one tiny titbit of news.’

‘Oh?’ responded Tessa, suddenly tense, her heart thumping uncomfortably. ‘What’s that?’

Rosalind plucked at an invisible piece of lint on her neat navy linen skirt. ‘You won’t believe this,’ she said, then paused and drew in a deep breath as if gathering courage to broach her news. ‘Isaac’s come home.’

Panic flashed through Tessa. She stared at her mother in silent horror. Her eyes flickered to her reflection in the mirror, and she saw the colour bleach from her face as Rosalind’s words echoed crazily off her bedroom walls.

Isaac’s come home. Isaac’s come home!

From a long way off, she heard her mother’s cry. ‘Tessa, don’t look like that!’

But then her ears filled with the deafening thud of her pounding heartbeat. The room, her mother and the reflection of her wedding gown blurred and swirled before her eyes. A sickening wave of dizziness swamped her.

‘Tessa, for heaven’s sake, you look terrible.’

Reaching behind her, Tessa felt for the edge of her bed, and when her hand touched the quilted cover, she sank gratefully onto it.

‘Are you all right, dear?’ Rosalind whispered, her mouth quivering into a frightened smile. ‘Should I ring your father? How do you feel?’

Tessa struggled to gain composure. ‘I’m fine. I—I forgot to eat any lunch today,’ she said, lying, desperate to cover her panic. ‘And…and you should have warned me about…about Isaac.’

‘Of course I should,’ Rosalind soothed. ‘I guess I thought you were over him after all these years.’

‘Over him, Mum? Of course I’m over him. I was never…’ Tessa stopped abruptly. She quickly tried to change the subject. ‘Help me up, please,’ she said. She stood gingerly, trying to ignore the despair that threatened to engulf her.

Isaac’s come home!

How could her whole world be up-ended so abruptly?

‘Oh, dear. What will your father say? And your poor wedding dress! It is crushed.’ Rosalind dithered as she checked her daughter’s gown.

Mum, forget the dress! Tessa wanted to scream.

But, unaware of her daughter’s consternation, Rosalind continued her inspection. ‘At least there’s no harm done that a steam iron can’t fix,’ she announced with relief as she finished at last. ‘How are you feeling now, dear?’

Tessa tried very hard to smile, but the savage pounding in her chest would not subside, and the light-headedness threatened again. She had to stay on two feet!

‘I’m fine, Mum,’ she managed to reply without her voice cracking.

‘At least you’ve already organised to come home to us for the rest of this week,’ Rosalind added, eying her daughter with concern. ‘You’ve been skipping lunch and now you’re having…what was it? A dizzy spell? Clearly you’re not looking after yourself properly, and I have enough to worry about. There’s still so much to be done before Saturday.’

Tessa muttered something safely submissive while she tried to hide her mounting alarm. Being at home for the last few days before her wedding with her mother fretting and fussing over reception details was one thing, but if Isaac was home, as well!

That was impossible, unthinkable. What was Isaac doing home? Why now? Of all the disastrous luck! He’d stayed away for nine years. Surely he could have waited for a few more days. How could he do this to her?

If only she’d insisted on staying in her own flat until Saturday, she thought with a stab of regret. But it was too late now. She’d already arranged for the new tenants to move in tomorrow.

Despair churned in Tessa’s stomach. ‘Would you mind making me a cup of peppermint tea, Mum? All the mugs and packets of tea and coffee are packed in a box on the kitchen bench.’

‘Of course. That’s just what you need. Let’s get you out of this dress first. There’s just one little rose to be reattached. Now, I’ll undo the back and we’ll have you out of there.’ Rosalind prattled on as Tessa raised her arms and the dress was carefully lifted over her head. ‘Don’t worry, darling. By the end of the week you will be safely married to Paul, and then everything will be all right.’

Another wave of dizziness threatened Tessa.

‘Everything will be fine then, won’t it?’ Rosalind asked.

‘Of course,’ Tessa answered softly.

As Rosalind made a beeline for the kitchen, her high heels tapping a no-nonsense beat across the terracotta tiles of the living area, Tessa mentally submerged that other question, the one that jumped out and startled her when she was least prepared. Sometimes it was there when she woke from restless dreams. Now it threatened her with renewed menace.

Of course she loved Paul!

She was really very happy. At least she was as happy as she could expect to be. She’d lost her chance for the Hollywood dream romance—that giddy once-in-a-lifetime kind of rapture—nine years earlier, when Isaac left. But there was absolutely nothing to be gained from dwelling on what happened to her when she was nineteen. She had a new life ahead of her now.

A good life.

And this unexpected return was not going to spoil it.

It had been a relief, after all the years of emptiness she’d suffered when Isaac left, to discover she was growing fond of Paul. He was so steady and obliging it was impossible not to find him charming. The fact that he had an enviable position in one of Townsville’s top law firms and that his family and hers were old friends were added bonuses.

That was what she must focus on now.

Changed into casual clothes, Tessa appeared in the kitchen minutes later as her mother lifted the kettle and filled a mug with boiling water. ‘Thanks,’ she murmured, accepting the mug and gratefully sniffing the refreshing mint fragrance as she subsided onto a comfortable sofa.

Rosalind added milk to her cup of Earl Grey tea then sat down opposite her daughter, her long, slim legs crossed neatly.

‘This is all very upsetting,’ the older woman stammered. ‘What a day I’ve had. First Isaac appearing out of the blue and now your little, er, spell. What would Paul think if he heard you were wobbly on your feet at the mere mention of another man’s name?’

Tessa sighed and closed her eyes as she leant her head against the back of the sofa. She could feel the slanting rays of afternoon sunshine slipping through the wooden blinds and warming her closed eyelids. ‘It wasn’t just another man’s name, Mum. There’s quite a difference between hearing Isaac mentioned in passing and knowing that he’s actually come home! After nine years, of course it’s a shock. But,’ she added, opening her eyes and forcing her voice to sound as flippant as she could manage, ‘Isaac isn’t really another man—not in the sense I think you’re suggesting, anyhow. He’s only my foster brother.’

‘Oh, come on, Tessa,’ Rosalind said sharply, stirring her tea with unnecessary vigour. ‘I know you’ve always tried to hide your feelings for that foundling your father brought home, but…’

Tessa’s mouth dropped open, and she stared wide-eyed at Rosalind. ‘Mum, what are you talking about?’

Rosalind, her dark eyes fixed on her daughter’s pale face, took an infuriatingly long sip of tea before she spoke. ‘You don’t really think your own mother didn’t know what was going on, do you? My dear girl, from almost the day you turned fourteen, I watched you eat up that boy with your eyes whenever he was in the same room as you. All those hours you two spent away on the hill and down on the boat…’

The room swam. Tessa rubbed her eyes. She knew about the boat? How much did her mother know? Appalled, she took another sip of tea.

Rosalind continued. ‘Then there was the dreadful mess you made of your science degree after Isaac went away.’

‘But that was because…’ Because we were studying marine science together…going to save the world…planning to rescue every dolphin and discover the cure for cancer in some as yet undetected organism on the Great Barrier Reef. ‘…because I was never much good at science anyway! And I was such a child then.’

Now, with an education degree behind her and a satisfying position as a preschool teacher, Tessa considered herself past this kind of parental interrogation and reprimand. An angry telltale pink crept up her neck, and she could feel it warming her cheeks.

‘Of course it was a shock for all of us the way Isaac just disappeared without so much as goodbye,’ Rosalind remarked. ‘It nearly broke your father’s heart, as you well know. After all those years of a good home, education, love, to just disappear without a trace. It was jolly ungrateful. And it’s just too bad of him to come back now and spoil all our lovely plans.’

Tessa sat quiet and cold, listening to her mother’s claims, unable to respond.

‘But we mustn’t let this spoil things, must we, dear?’ Rosalind jumped up and took her cup and saucer to the kitchen. ‘We must get going. You bring your gown and overnight bag. I’ll look after these kitchen things. I think Paul has taken care of everything else, hasn’t he?’

‘Yes.’

‘Let’s get going, then.’

Home. To Isaac.

Under other circumstances, Tessa would have protested at her mother’s domineering interference. Surely there was some alternative to living under the same roof as Isaac for the next four days? But the young couple who were to be the new tenants would never forgive her if she tried to change plans now. Places to rent were hard to find, and they had paid their bond and were so excited about having their own flat at last.

And in reality, given the hectic scattering and disordering of her thoughts since Isaac’s name had first been mentioned, her ability to take any kind of control had completely dissolved.

It was all very well for Rosalind to claim that they mustn’t let his return spoil things, but for Tessa, everything was totally spoiled already. The thought of Isaac home in Townsville sent her delicately rebuilt life teetering precariously, and she had absolutely no idea how much damage would result or how to avoid it.

She was terrified.

‘I don’t think you should drive for the rest of the week,’ Rosalind said as she put her key to the lock of her smart, navy blue sedan. ‘We can’t have you fainting at the wheel.’

Tessa paused in the process of arranging her wedding dress on the back seat. ‘I was nowhere near to fainting, Mum. Don’t exaggerate. Now that I’m over the shock, I’ll be fine. I—I’ve got Paul.’ She slid into the passenger’s seat next to her mother.

Rosalind paused before firing the ignition. ‘Yes, you do have Paul, darling. Don’t forget that. He’s a dear man, and just right for you.’ She steered the car into the late afternoon traffic.

A dear man, thought Tessa.

It was such an appropriate way to describe steady, dependable Paul. A dear man. A good man. No one had ever been tempted to describe Isaac that way. Sexy, sensuous, brooding, exciting, enticing, dangerous—the words that sprang to Tessa’s mind to define Isaac flowed with alarming ease. And as she thought about him, a strange yearning, a shocking, unchecked wildness percolated fiercely along her veins. Hateful! She must always remember the truth about him, she reminded herself swiftly.

But she couldn’t help asking, ‘Where has Isaac been?’

Rosalind took a corner at a quite reckless speed. Then she replied, almost guiltily, ‘To be honest, I’ve hardly spoken to him this afternoon. He did say something about mining over in Western Australia. Started out prospecting with some old fellow and worked his way up in the mining industry, I think. I believe he’s been quite successful. But it’s your father’s afternoon off, and he just greeted Isaac with open arms like the returned prodigal son, opened his last bottle of his favourite vintage claret, and they’ve been chatting for hours. I’m afraid I was too distressed to just sit and listen to them. I have so much still to do, of course, and—well, you know how close they always were.’

The car pulled up with a slight screech as they encountered a line of traffic at an intersection.

Her father had always loved Isaac, Tessa reflected. Bringing the street kid home one night when he found him sick and shivering on the steps of his general practice surgery had been quite out of character for Dr. Morrow, but something in Isaac’s intelligent, haunted face had touched the good man’s heart long before the boy stole Tessa’s. Isaac had lived with them for seven wonderful years after the official fostering papers had been signed.

And he’d been gone for nine after that fateful day.

Tessa quickly clamped down hard on her distracting thoughts and forced her mind to return to the safety of practical wedding plans. ‘I can’t wait to see the marquee when it’s all decorated. Have the bud lights arrived?’

‘Gardeners and Greene delivered all our orders this morning,’ Rosalind replied.

‘Great!’ It was so easy to sound reassuringly interested in other things, but the attempts to keep her thoughts from straying to Isaac were unsuccessful. How could she bear to see him again now? Another alarming thought jumped into her head. ‘Mum, Isaac’s not going to stay for the—for my wedding, is he?’

The car was climbing through the streets of Yarrawonga, which, clinging to the edge of Castle Hill with stunning sea views, was Townsville’s most prestigious suburb. They edged up the last steep incline to the Morrows’ house.

‘I have a strange feeling that might be why he came home,’ said Rosalind, her voice brittle with tension. ‘Of course, he claims he’s here on business with some big Asian mining company. But it is a strange coincidence, isn’t it?’

Tessa’s eyes stung with sudden hot tears. It was indeed very strange. And to have Isaac come back now, to have him present, actually watching her marriage to Paul Hammond, was worse than her most distressing nightmare. After all the long nights she’d lain in bed wondering about him, one minute crying for fear he was hurt or dead, and then wishing he was the next! How many times had her mind elaborated wildly on a bizarre range of horrific accidents?

Then eventually, after too long, she’d been numb enough to be able to force him to the back of her mind. And she had thrown herself into teaching her preschoolers with a passion that had delighted everyone and had brought her a measure of satisfaction. Her life, even if it felt continually at the low water mark, had resumed.

An off-the-road utility truck, black, new and very expensive looking, swathed in red dust, was parked in front of the Morrow house. It had to be Isaac’s. The shock wave that jolted through Tessa hurt to her very fingertips.

She couldn’t go inside, she decided. If seeing his car made her feel like this, how could she possibly face the man?

A blue heeler cattle dog sat in the back of the truck, keen eyes alert, ears pricked and tail wagging.

‘Of course I’ve insisted the dog stays in the truck,’ Rosalind muttered as she swung her car through the gates and swept up the steep drive beside the house. ‘It would make a terrible mess of the garden.’

‘Won’t he—it—get hot?’ asked Tessa lamely, wondering how any part of her mind could still function when she felt so dazed with dread.

‘Isaac’s brought a covered cage for him, and knowing him, he’ll take him for walks all over the hill. He’ll be all right. July is our coolest month, after all,’ replied Rosalind firmly as she wrenched on the handbrake and opened her door.

This was it.

Tessa tried to tell herself it was simply a matter of opening the car door, walking into her home and saying good afternoon to an old family friend. She would have preferred to walk into a creek full of man-eating crocodiles or into a dentist’s surgery to have all her teeth drilled.

Trembling with tension, she followed her mother into the dimmed interior of the house, which was shuttered from the glare of the western sun. They stepped silently through the spotless kitchen and across the carpeted lounge towards the outside deck.

Isaac’s voice, a familiar, deep, rumbling drawl, reached her first. Her heart thudded painfully. But what surprised her as she continued her journey was the sudden fatalistic calm that settled over her, as if the churning blood in her veins was transfused with something as soothing and innocuous as warmed honey.

It was almost as if she’d been sedated. She was able to dump her shoulder bag on the coffee table and walk towards the timber-framed doors that opened onto the deck as easily as she had when she was a thoughtless and carefree girl.

Is this how a fly feels as it enters a spider’s web? she wondered. Perhaps people heading for the guillotine experience this strange kind of peace in their final moments.

All it took was the sound of Isaac’s voice, and she was no longer fearful, but simply glad—overjoyed to be seeing her foster brother again.

And then her eyes found him.

Before she stepped out of the darkened room, she saw Isaac standing, leaning against a railing at the end of the deck. She stayed in the shadows to steady the sudden fillip in her heartbeat. Sun-dappled light filtering through overhead lattice played across his features, highlighting first the aristocratic brow and then the craggy bone structure, which looked for all the world as if it had been sculpted by a passionately impatient hand. Except for the mouth, which was moulded firmly and carefully, with lips full of sensuous promise.

His hair was longer than she remembered. Curling and black, it skimmed his collar, so that more than ever he looked like a dark-skinned Gipsy or a pirate, wickedly adventurous, scorning convention. As he always had, Isaac carried that indefinable air of danger that should have repelled her, but had always drawn her to him—against her better judgment and to her intense regret.

Despite the obvious quality of his clothes, Isaac wore them with elegant negligence. The untidiness was rescued by his erect and handsome figure, the breadth of his shoulders, the leanness of his hips and the length of his legs.

It was totally unforgivable of her to immediately make comparisons, but it hit her at once that a man more different from Paul could hardly be found.

While Paul’s face was round and placid, Isaac’s was rugged and hard. Paul’s eyes were a reflective, gentle grey. Isaac’s were black fire smouldering beneath brooding, dark brows. Just now, his eyes were shaded, but she caught the glint of heated ebony.

Her impulse came in a heartbeat. She rushed forward, hurtling across the deck, a small missile flying into his startled arms.

‘Isaac!’

After the countless hours she had idled away imagining their meeting and Isaac’s response, it was weird that now they were actually together again, her reaction was totally spontaneous, hopelessly unplanned.

And she gave herself no time to think of an aftermath. She simply buried herself into Isaac’s chest and waited for his strong arms to close around her and to hold her tightly to him as they had so often before in happier times.

She felt the violent tremor that shuddered through his lean body as she pressed against it. But no arms descended to enclose her as she waited there. And when she cautiously looked into his face, she caught a momentary flash of agony swiftly replaced by a shield of cold indifference.

He stiffened, as if repelled by her advance, and the tiny, impoverished spark of faith she’d never quite extinguished through all the long years since he’d left was snuffed in an instant.

‘Tessa, for heaven’s sake.’ Rosalind’s choked disapproval clanged in the air behind her.

She drew back, her hands falling lifeless to her sides. ‘Sorry,’ she said softly. ‘How…how are you, Isaac?’

‘I’m fighting fit,’ he replied, his eyes skittering ever so briefly over her hair, blond as ripe corn, her flushed face, simple blouse and slacks, then darting away to blink at the brick red bougainvillea, which hung from the trellis. ‘And how are you, Tessa?’

‘F-fine.’

‘Let me congratulate you.’ His eyes returned to her with lazy amusement, and he took her left hand, paying studious attention to her engagement ring. It was embarrassingly huge. An enormous emerald surrounded by brilliant diamonds. Tessa had always thought it too large and ostentatious for her fine bones, and because of her deep blue eyes, she hardly ever wore green, but Paul had been immensely proud of his selection.

As Isaac’s dark gaze rested on the ring, her pale hand trembled visibly within the heat of his sun-tanned grasp.

‘A fitting rock for the Queen of Castle Hill,’ he said coldly.

Tessa snatched her hand away as if he’d burnt her. Reality with all its glaring, hateful commonsense showed her clearly what she had always known in her heart of hearts. Of course Isaac hadn’t come back for her.

She had heard people throw away clichéd lines about moments of truth, but she had never realised what pain these moments represented.

If Isaac were oh so eager to see her again, he would never have stayed away so long in the first place. The accusations he’d flung at her the day he left were true. He despised her and everything she stood for. The very fact that he could come back now to watch coolly and dispassionately while she bound her heart and body to another man forever until parted by death meant that he felt no emotional ties whatsoever.

She knew it was ridiculous, but even as she stood there, angry at his easy rejection of her and still flushed with shame over her impetuous greeting, she was unable to drag her eyes away. They travelled restlessly, hungrily over his every feature while his gaze remained politely, icily remote.

At closer quarters, she sensed something about Isaac that was both as old and familiar as her memories of him and yet new and strange. It was as if he embodied a living contradiction. His dark, brooding eyes were shadowed by a weary sadness that suggested he’d been weighed down by too many harsh experiences. But beneath the stormy exterior there was something else, something sharp and expectant at his centre, something alert and waiting in his glittering gaze that made her think of the childish excitement of Christmas morning or the very first day of the long summer holidays.

She was startled when her father’s voice broke into her thoughts. ‘Tessa, darling, isn’t this a wonderful surprise?’

She forced her lips to curve into a smile as she acknowledged her father’s presence nearby in a comfortable squatter’s chair. She crossed to him and bent to kiss his cheek. Like her fiancé, Paul Hammond, John Morrow was a kind and gentle man, if a little subservient to his wife. Tessa eyed her father fondly, remembering that it was Paul’s likeness to him that had helped her decide to accept his proposal of marriage. A lifetime with someone like Dad would be very pleasant.

She wanted to concur with her father’s pleasure in Isaac’s return, but the words wouldn’t form. Her mouth opened and then shut again. How could she possibly pretend to be pleased to see Isaac again? The wonderful surprise Dr. Morrow referred to had reverted to nightmare in the blink of a cold, indifferent eye.

But her father didn’t seem to notice her hesitancy. ‘Isaac’s done so well!’ He beamed at her. ‘He’s worked for a degree in mining engineering. He’s slogged away for years out in the Pilbara. And now he manages a huge—’

‘John,’ interrupted Rosalind. ‘Come and I’ll make you a cup of tea. There’s something I need to discuss with you.’

Tessa felt her mother’s eyes linger on her a shade too long. She could imagine the detailed discussion of her dizzy spell. Poor Dad.

But sympathy for her father swiftly evaporated as the Morrows walked into the house, leaving Tessa and Isaac alone on the deck.

CHAPTER TWO

TESSA spun away from Isaac. How on earth could she face him alone? If only she could run after her parents like a frightened child! Her shaking hands gripped the deck’s railing, and she forced her eyes to focus on the vista of rooftops and sea stretching below while she struggled to calm her rising panic. She took deep breaths, trying to think sensibly. Surely she’d faced the worst? Nothing could hurt her more than the monumental indifference of his cold greeting.

She flinched. How could she possibly have been so uncontrolled as to hurl herself at him like some immature groupie at a rock concert? Her ridiculous excitement at seeing Isaac had clearly embarrassed him. Of course he had stopped caring about her years ago.

‘The view is as beautiful as ever.’

His voice brought her swivelling to face him. He was standing some distance away, but to her surprise, his eyes seemed to be exploring every inch of her face, as if they were taking in each fine detail, so that she could have been forgiven for thinking that the view he referred to was of herself. Self-consciously, she brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, and his eyes followed her hand—her left hand with its large emerald. And once more his face grew grim and hard.

A ridiculous urge to slip the ring from her finger seized Tessa, but of course that would be unthinkable for all sorts of reasons. But, with a momentary flash of guilt, she couldn’t resist pushing her hand into the pocket of her slacks, hoping the gesture didn’t look as contrived as it felt.

‘I guess you’ve seen a great many places on your travels since you—you left,’ she offered with a tight smile. ‘How does this view compare with the rest of the world?’

Something resembling a smile flickered briefly at the corners of Isaac’s mouth, revealing a glint of white teeth against his tan. His eyes, smouldering with secret amusement, travelled over her again, very slowly this time, then deliberately held her gaze. ‘Oh, this view most surely holds its own,’ he said softly.

Tessa felt a betraying heat flush her cheeks. Her throat tightened painfully, and goose bumps prickled her arms. Their sudden advent had nothing to do with the brisk sea breeze, which lifted and teased her hair. His gaze unleashed a rush of heady memories. Dangerous memories. This was unbearable! Think of Paul, she urged herself. Focus on the wedding.

‘I—I still haven’t travelled very far,’ she said hoarsely, inching away from him.

Isaac nodded and smiled a little sadly as he looked out to sea. There was another awkward silence, and she wondered desperately what else they could talk about. ‘I guess I should have taken the opportunity to travel widely by now,’ she managed to say at last. ‘Most of my friends have been overseas—to Asia, Europe, the States.’

‘There’s certainly a lot that can be learned from travelling,’ Isaac replied, looking suddenly very serious, ‘but then again, travel isn’t always about distances covered—or sights seen.’ His voice grew unexpectedly husky. He shoved his large hands deep into his trouser pockets and leant against the rail next to her. Tessa’s gasp sounded as frantic as she felt. His voice, when he spoke again, was hardly more than a whisper. ‘The important journeys can be going on inside us even when we appear to be standing still.’

He was looking at her as if his penetrating dark gaze could see right inside her heart. But Tessa knew he would never in a million light-years be able to trace all the miserable emotional journeys she had made in the past nine years—all of them going round and round in circles. Every one of them beginning and ending with her feelings for him.

I would have gone anywhere with you, Isaac, she wanted to cry.

Then, aghast at the insistence of her repeatedly disloyal thoughts, she moved away from the heat of his gaze, her mind boiling. To cover her consternation, she made a desperate stab at flippancy.

‘You’re getting very deep for so early in a conversation. Has your afternoon with Dad left you in a philosophical mood?’

Isaac’s laugh sounded forced.

‘Perhaps.’ He took in a deep breath and stretched. His broad shoulders and chest expanded so that the loose cotton shirt lifted to reveal a tempting glimpse of smooth tanned flesh. Then he released his breath in a slumping sigh, and when Tessa lifted her gaze once more to his face, she wished she hadn’t.

Isaac was looking at her as if she’d fulfilled his worst expectations.

‘Of course,’ he said, his lips twisted in a mirthless smile, ‘I mustn’t forget that when I’m with Queen Tess, deep is dangerous. We must stay comfortably shallow, mustn’t we?’

Dismayed, she watched his face darken and his lips thin with bitterness until he looked as angry with her as he had on that horrible morning when he left. His sudden hostility baffled her now just as much as it had then.

On this very deck on a sultry November morning, over a breakfast neither of them had touched, he’d accused her of being shallow—of having all her middle-class values too firmly in place.

‘Of course you’re too fine a lady for a tramp who’s crawled out of the gutter,’ he’d stormed.

She shuddered as she remembered the accusations he’d hurled at her. In the midst of it all he’d called her a snob, and for the last time he’d labelled her Queen of Castle Hill. But it was the first time he’d made the name sound like an insult instead of a term of endearment.

She closed her eyes to stem the tide of burning tears that threatened. Now was certainly not the time to give in to the indulgence of hurtful indignation. ‘I don’t know about being shallow, but shouldn’t we be aiming for less stress in our lives?’ she asked lightly to cover her discomfort at the memories.

‘Of course.’ His shoulders moved in a scant shrug.

‘You know the way it goes? Don’t worry, be happy.’

‘So you’ve been relaxed and happy?’

‘As if you cared!’ she snapped. ‘You just walked off into the blue without giving me a second thought.’

Isaac’s eyes narrowed. His mouth thinned into another unhappy smile, and he shook his head.

‘You can’t deny it!’ she cried, her eyes bright with anger. Then before her courage drained away, she spoke the question uppermost in her mind. ‘Why have you come back, Isaac?’

But she didn’t get the answer she so desperately needed. The sudden loud, aggressive barking of a dog interrupted them. It was coming from somewhere on the footpath.

‘That sounds like Devil.’ Isaac strode quickly to the far end of the deck and, driven by curiosity, Tessa followed. By leaning over the deck’s railing, they could look down, past the side of the house, to the front footpath.

Isaac’s dog was straining at his leash, snarling and barking madly and trying desperately to leap over the edge of the utility. It seemed he wanted to attack someone on the footpath.

‘Devil, stop that! Down, boy!’ he called.

Devil! What an appropriate name for a hateful man’s dog, Tessa thought. Then she looked more closely at the cowering victim on the footpath.

‘Oh, good heavens. It’s Paul. Your dog’s after my fiancé,’ she cried.

Paul Hammond stood on the footpath, trying manfully to ignore the dog’s fury. At Isaac’s instruction, Devil stopped barking, but he still growled, his lip curled and his teeth bared.

‘Don’t touch Devil, he’s a one man dog,’ barked Isaac in a fierce imitation of the snarling animal.

‘I’ve no intention of touching him,’ Paul called. ‘I simply spoke to him.’

‘He’s trained to be a good watchdog,’ Isaac muttered, glaring at Paul with something close to malice.

Tessa felt compelled to defend her fiancé. ‘Come on up, Paul,’ she said. She turned to Isaac. ‘I hope your dog won’t attack all our visitors. Poor Paul—what an awful introduction for him.’

‘Poor Paul,’ repeated Isaac softly, ‘should know better than to approach strange dogs.’

Paul’s footsteps could be heard at the bottom of the stone steps leading from the side garden onto the deck.

‘I do hope you’ll be civilised and pleasant,’ muttered Tessa swiftly. ‘You remember Paul Hammond, of course. He lives in the split-level house on the corner, and he was a few years ahead of us at school.’

‘Oh, yes. I remember him,’ replied Isaac with a sickly smile. ‘He played the tuba in the school band, didn’t he? Is he still tubby?’

‘No. He certainly is not!’ retorted Tessa as her fiancé, looking only slightly flushed, reached the top of the steps and waved a greeting to them.

‘Darling,’ cried Tessa, running towards him. ‘I’m sorry about the rude reception. Just as well that brute was chained up.’

‘Oh, don’t worry about it.’ Paul smiled bravely before kissing Tessa neatly on the cheek. ‘For some reason the mutt just didn’t fancy me. He started growling when I was still metres away.’

Tessa suppressed any disloyal thoughts about animals and their reputed ability to judge character. ‘He’s obviously very badly trained,’ she retorted, glaring at Isaac and slipping her arm through Paul’s.

Paul looked pleased and patted her hand. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he began gallantly, but Tessa hurried on.

‘Let me introduce you to Isaac. You remember my foster brother.’

‘Isaac Masters? Good heavens! Is that who your visitor is? I couldn’t see from the footpath without my glasses.’

‘Been a long time,’ said Isaac, nodding curtly and stretching his hand in greeting.

‘He’s turned up unexpectedly,’ said Tessa, wishing that there were not so many factors she had to ignore all of a sudden. Paul’s hand looked so very pale and slight as Isaac’s tanned fingers grasped it in a strong grip, and his answering smile looked more like a grimace. But what bothered her especially was that Isaac seemed so relaxed and in control, when she felt as if her entire body was being pushed through a paper shredder.

She hated Isaac for looking so cool and unconcerned—for not caring that the girl he once promised to love forever was about to be married to someone else.

‘How are you, Paul?’ Isaac asked politely.

‘Never better, Zac,’ responded Paul rather loudly. He shot an arm around Tessa’s shoulders and drew her to him. ‘And what do you think of our news, Zac? Tessa’s about to make me the luckiest man in North Queensland.’

A small muscle twitched in Isaac’s cheek, and his eyes seemed to be mesmerised by Paul’s thumb as it stroked Tessa’s shoulder.

‘Well, Tub—sorry, Paul—I’d say you could probably stretch that territory at least as far as the whole east coast of Australia. I’ve been congratulating Tessa already and admiring her superb engagement ring. It’s quite a spectacular rock. I wish you both all the very best, and I’m looking forward to being part of the nuptial celebrations.’

‘You’re staying for the wedding?’ The question sprang from Tessa’s lips like the cry of a startled cockatoo.

‘Of course,’ replied Isaac smoothly. ‘I couldn’t miss out on the big day. Hell, Tess, I’m family. You wouldn’t turn me away, would you?’

Of course I would, her mind screamed.

‘Certainly not,’ answered Paul heartily. ‘The more the merrier. Everyone who’s anyone in Townsville will be there. I’m sure Rosalind’s already included you on our guest list.’ He added this as his future mother-in-law stepped onto the deck.

‘Paul, how lovely.’ Rosalind smiled a warm greeting. Her eyes frosted a little as they moved to Isaac. ‘Did I overhear you saying you intend to come to the wedding, Isaac?’

‘Yes,’ Paul cut in eagerly before Isaac could reply. ‘That’ll be fine, won’t it, Ros?’

Out of the corner of her eye, Tessa glimpsed the upward movement of Isaac’s eyebrow. Ros? Zac? She’d never heard Paul shorten either Rosalind’s or Isaac’s names before. No one ever did. She wondered if Paul was dredging up bonhomie to cover a sudden rush of insecurity. But surely he didn’t know anything that could make him feel threatened by Isaac?

‘Isaac must come if he’d like to,’ Rosalind replied carefully.

‘Thank you,’ said Isaac. ‘I would certainly be honoured to attend Townsville’s wedding of the year.’

‘Wedding of the year? Oh, I don’t know about that, but we’re trying hard.’ Rosalind laughed. ‘We just have to keep both Tessa’s feet on the ground for the rest of the week.’

‘Getting light-headed with excitement?’ queried Isaac, eyeing Tessa darkly.

As she met his penetrating glance, Tessa felt her heart jolt so savagely she feared another wave of dizziness.

‘Take good care of our little girl over the next few days, Paul,’ said Rosalind pointedly. ‘She almost fainted this afternoon.’

‘Good heavens!’ Paul squinted at Tessa, examining her closely. ‘Are you feeling better now, dear?’ he asked.

‘I’m perfectly fine,’ Tessa responded quickly. ‘I just got a nasty shock, that’s all. Nothing at all for you to worry about, Paul. Dad’s keeping a close professional eye on me.’

But Isaac was staring at her with a strange expression, and she quickly turned her back on him. Despite the fresh evening air sweeping in from the Coral Sea, she felt dreadfully claustrophobic.

‘Can I help with dinner, Mum?’ she asked. ‘Paul, you’ll eat with us, won’t you?’ Before he could reply, she rushed on. ‘I’ll leave you folk to get reacquainted. You know how to help yourselves to the bar, don’t you? I’m sure Dad will join you in a moment.’

She knew her rapid withdrawal was cowardly, but suddenly there were too many people, too many issues. If she was to avoid making a complete fool of herself, she had to get away.

She stumbled into the kitchen and slumped against a bench. ‘I can’t do this!’ she cried aloud. ‘I’m going to go mad before this week’s out.’ Her fist slammed onto the bench so fiercely it hurt, but she hardly noticed. The rest of her was already hurting, smarting, bruised.

She took a long, deep breath and then another. There was only one way to cope with this dreadful situation, she decided. She had to keep busily focused on little tasks. After all, when she really thought about it, every day was made up of a string of little tasks. It should be straightforward. Her mission was to get through the next four days. If she gave each separate task her devoted attention, she would find herself at the end of the week in no time at all, and this whole ordeal with Isaac would be over.

She’d be married.

Feeling slightly stronger, Tessa set about the first task, preparing the Thai chicken stir fry that she and her mother had planned. She dragged Rosalind’s huge wok out of the cupboard and began to assemble the ingredients. Chicken strips, capsicum, carrots, snow peas. There was a bottle of sweet chilli sauce in the fridge. Excellent. And some fresh coriander…

She flicked the switch on the transistor radio, and the strains of Ella Fitzgerald crooning ‘Summertime’ filled the room. That was better. The lush swell of the music began to calm her. Tessa kicked off her shoes and padded about the kitchen in her bare feet as she found a chopping board and a suitable knife. Then she began to slice the carrots.

‘Need a hand?’

Tessa swung round, and her sudden movement sent a carrot rolling off the bench. Isaac was standing mere inches behind her.

‘Whoa!’ He ducked and neatly caught the vegetable centimetres from the floor.

‘What are you doing here?’ she snapped, her heart wildly thumping again.

‘Rescuing falling carrots.’ He grinned. ‘And clearly not enjoying the warmth of your welcome.’

‘I’m glad you’ve got the message.’

‘That I’m not welcome?’

‘Exactly. I came in here to get some peace.’

‘But this is a big job, Tess.’ Isaac surveyed the assembled collection of vegetables. ‘You’ll be chopping here for ages. You need another pair of hands.’

‘Mum will be in soon.’

‘I don’t think so. She’s on the phone to some relative of Paul’s having an in-depth conversation about seating arrangements at the reception. Things were getting a touch heated.’

Isaac sauntered across the room and picked up another chopping board before selecting a sharp knife.

‘Give me a job, Tessa.’

She glared at him. ‘If you insist, I’ll need some onions sliced. You can do that. You’ll find them in the bottom of the pantry.’ It would serve him right if the onions made his eyes water, she thought triumphantly as she turned once more to her carrots. Why couldn’t Isaac leave her alone? She offered him her back as she chopped slowly and carefully, angling the knife to produce slim oval slices.

‘Summertime’ finished on the radio, and Ella Fitzgerald began another number. The instant Tessa heard the opening bars of ‘I’m In the Mood for Love,’ her hand shot out to snap the radio off. And in the echoing silence, she heard Isaac’s knife drumming rhythmically against the wooden board. She turned. Isaac was slicing onions with the speed and dexterity of a professional chef. ‘Isaac! Where on earth did you learn to chop onions like that?’

He looked up, feigning innocence. ‘Like what?’

Tessa rolled her eyes. ‘I thought it was mining engineering you’ve been studying, not cooking.’

Isaac slid the pile of finely sliced onions into a bowl and picked up a capsicum. He tossed it lightly then held it out as if studying the smooth, bright red skin. ‘I’ve discovered all sorts of hidden talents in the last nine years, Tess.’

Tessa’s eyes closed automatically as a wave of painful jealousy washed over her. Jealousy for all those years in Isaac’s life she hadn’t shared. What had he been doing? And who had shared all these hidden talents?

Why should she care?

‘I dare say you’ve learned a great deal, too,’ he added and shot her a searching glance. Then his face relaxed into a mocking grin as his gaze rested on her small pile of carrots. ‘But perhaps not in the kitchen.’

‘You grub!’ Tessa yelled. ‘You’ve barged in here when you’re not wanted. You’ve taken over the place, and now you’re making snide remarks about my ability in the kitchen! It’s a pity you didn’t learn some modesty along with all your multi-skilling.’

Isaac ducked as Tessa let fly with the last of her carrots just as Rosalind walked into the kitchen.

‘What’s going on in here?’ she demanded.

‘I’m making a nuisance of myself,’ said Isaac with a grin. ‘So I’ll leave you two in peace.’ He retrieved the carrot from its landing place in the sink and placed it carefully on the bench in front of Tessa. Then he winked at her before walking quietly out of the room.

Of course she couldn’t sleep.

All evening endless questions and haunting memories distracted and tormented her, but once she was in bed, alone in her room, they marched through Tessa’s mind with relentless lucidity. What on earth had possessed Isaac to come back now? What was the real reason for his return? Had he heard about the wedding? Surely, as Rosalind had said, it was too much of a coincidence that his business would bring him to Townsville on this particular week.

He was more self-contained, more confident now than he had been when she knew him before. That had probably come with success. Success in business and in love, most likely.

Tessa flopped onto her stomach and tried to blank out the tormenting thoughts. Just breathe deeply and relax, she told herself. She lay in the dark trying hard to empty her mind. But soon the taunting images came rolling back. She thought of Isaac lying down the hall. Was he snoring blissfully, or was he remembering, too? How had he felt today when he drove up to the house?

For seven years it had been his home.

She pictured him sitting in his truck staring at the house for several moments before he began to climb the curve of smooth sandstone steps bordered by drifts of bright bougainvillea. In her mind’s eye she saw his long legs taking the steps two at a time. Did he encounter, as she so often did when she came home, the ghosts of a laughing, golden-haired girl and a tall, dark, brooding boy?

And when he stepped out onto the deck and saw once again the blue sweep of Cleveland Bay and the mass of tall, straight masts, which delineated the marina, did he remember Antares? She felt her cheeks grow hot. What a fiery couple they had been when she was nineteen and he one year older. Alone on the family yacht, they’d seduced each other with all the excitement and passion of intense, young love.

How special that time had been!

She could still remember the delicious smell of Isaac’s sun-warmed skin as she buried her face in his chest, the taste of his lips on hers and the reassurance of his arms holding her tight. And especially she remembered the way he’d looked at her, his dark eyes smouldering with desire, and how her senses exploded with longing.

Paul Hammond’s serious face flashed into Tessa’s mind, and she knew at once that she had to stop thinking about Isaac. Sleep was going to be impossible. She wondered if Rosalind kept any chamomile tea.

Putting her thoughts into action, Tessa padded down the dark, silent hallway to the kitchen. Luckily Rosalind’s big pantry cupboard was fixed with an internal light, so she could find the herbal tea bags without having to illuminate the whole area. She left the pantry door open and used the glow from its light while she found a mug and boiled the kettle.

She placed two tea bags in a small teapot, filled it, then carried it and a mug onto the moon-washed deck. It was cool outside, and she was glad of her warm pyjamas as she settled into a canvas director’s chair, hoping the silvery bay and the distant lights of Magnetic Island would soothe her.

‘I’ll have whatever you’re having.’

‘Oh, Lord!’

Isaac was sitting in the shadows a few feet away. He was grinning at her. ‘I’ll just duck inside and get myself a mug,’ he said calmly, while Tessa’s heart pounded more painfully than ever.

This was getting ridiculous! Wasn’t there anywhere in her parents’ home where she could have some privacy?

When Isaac returned with a mug, Tessa tried to overlook the vast amount of male body outlined by his black silk boxer shorts and skimpy black T-shirt. ‘So you drink chamomile tea?’ she asked, but how could she think about herbal tea when he was so disturbingly beautiful? Apart from the hidden talents he’d alluded to earlier, Isaac had developed some rather spectacular physical attributes. He must have spent a great deal of the last nine years working his body hard, because his chest and arms were more deeply muscled than ever. And life in the outdoors had tanned his naturally dark complexion. She had to force her eyes away from feasting on him.

‘Chamomile?’ Isaac’s eyebrow arched, and then he grinned. ‘I’ll try anything once.’

Tessa kept her eyes steadily on the task of pouring his tea. ‘I find it helps me to sleep,’ she said as she filled the mugs. ‘I’m into herbal teas these days. I keep quite a range.’

‘Surely there are better ways to make you sleepy, Tess,’ Isaac murmured as he drew a chair next to hers and sat down.

Feeling her cheeks start an annoying blush, Tessa retorted, ‘Aren’t you cold? It’s the middle of winter, you know.’

Isaac chuckled. ‘People who live in the tropics don’t know what winter is.’ His amused eyes took in her sensible pink flannelette pyjamas buttoned to the neck, with long sleeves and long-legged pants. ‘Don’t tell me you’re taking those on your honeymoon.’

She glanced at him sharply. In the moonlight his dark eyes teased her.

‘Of course not,’ she answered swiftly, but the startling image of Isaac viewing her in the elegant lace and silk affair she’d bought for her honeymoon crept traitorously into her mind and sent her cheeks flaming again. Her heart shot around in her rib cage at maniacal speed.

‘I see you haven’t lost that habit,’ Isaac observed, interrupting her dangerous thoughts.

‘Habit?’ Tessa asked wildly.

He reached for her hand as it twisted a lock of hair.

‘You still fiddle with your hair when something’s bothering you,’ he said softly. She snatched her hand from the side of her head. But she was mesmerised by his proximity and by the way he stared at the strand of hair she had loosened, bright yellow against his dark skin. He rolled the lock between supple fingers and thumb.

‘Spun gold,’ he whispered. ‘Remember how I threatened to cut off a lock of your hair if you kept twisting it?’

‘You did cut it off,’ Tessa whispered back. ‘When I was sixteen. And it took ages to grow back.’

‘So I did.’ His face was only inches from hers. He stared again at the lock of hair in his hand, then frowned and dropped it abruptly.

‘I—I think I’ll take my drink to the bedroom,’ she said, stammering. It was going to take more than chamomile tea to help her relax.

‘Speaking of bedrooms,’ Isaac replied quickly, before she could stand up.

‘Which we weren’t,’ Tessa retorted, but Isaac continued as if he hadn’t noticed.

‘I was very surprised to find my old room just as it’s always been. I was certain Rosalind would have totally redecorated it by now.’

Tessa shrugged, wondering if Isaac could guess that she had begged her mother to leave everything untouched. She had known it was illogical, but she’d clung to the superstitious hope that, by changing nothing in his room, she could somehow keep Isaac’s feelings for her intact, as well.

And so the room had stayed the same. The oak desk remained by the window, and lined along the windowsill were fossilised sea creatures embedded in ancient rock. Even Isaac’s dried-out starfish and sea-urchin collections had been retained, although now the ancient white skeletons were tastefully arranged in cane decorator baskets.

‘All those marine creatures,’ she said, twisting the mug in her hands. ‘I don’t suppose they have much relevance in your life any more.’

‘Not really,’ he replied, taking a sip of tea and pulling a wry face. He seemed about to comment on the brew, then shrugged. ‘I’ve virtually turned my back on the sea and diverted my focus to the land—to the very bowels of the earth, I suppose you could say.’

‘And you like it over in Western Australia?’

He let out a brief sigh. ‘I’ve been successful there,’ he replied evasively, then added, ‘if monetary gain counts as success.’ He stared at the contents of his mug. ‘Parts of that state are superb. The Kimberley region fascinates me. It has to be among the best wilderness areas in the world. But the mines of Western Australia are completely different from the North Queensland coast. But, you see, being there made forgetting easier.’

Tessa slumped low in her seat. The mug almost slipped from her limp grasp. ‘Forgetting?’ she managed to whisper, although her throat swelled painfully. ‘You wanted to forget everything here?’

‘It makes sense not to cling to unpleasant memories, doesn’t it?’

Unpleasant memories! How could he say that? She had fretted and pined and made herself sick over someone who’d been doing his damnedest to get her out of his mind.

Tessa sat up straight and lifted her chin even as hot tears sprang in her eyes. ‘It makes perfect sense,’ she told him. ‘I’ve certainly put the past behind me.’

‘Where it belongs,’ he said softly, his face grim. ‘You’ve done well, Tessa. You’ve built a new career, acquired a husband-to-be, and all those fine and fancy wedding presents are piling up.’

How could he make the simple truth sound so insulting? Tessa knew if she stayed another minute, the telltale tears would fall.

She jumped to her feet. ‘When you go away again,’ she said as airily as she could, ‘you should make sure you take that old lamp you made from the bailer shell with you,’ and then she quickly hurried across the deck and into the house before he could reply.

CHAPTER THREE

THREE days to go…

In the early hours, Tessa eventually fell into a deep, troubled sleep and didn’t wake until footsteps in the corridor outside her room stirred her. She woke up slowly and then—slam—she remembered the previous night. And Isaac. She groaned and pulled the pillow over her head.

She didn’t want to face the day.

But, she consoled herself, it was already Wednesday, and there were only three days left till her wedding day. Closing her eyes, she was suddenly grateful for all her mother’s big plans. With so many details to attend to she shouldn’t need to see much of Isaac. Tomorrow the preschool would close for the end of semester holiday, and in the evening a rehearsal of the ceremony had been arranged for the wedding party. Friday would no doubt be spent frantically supervising last-minute preparations. And Saturday was her wedding day.

Tessa hugged the pillow tightly to her chest. She only had to survive for a little longer. Then she would be married to Paul and she could put Isaac out of her mind. Forever.

There was a tap on her door. It opened gently, and her father stepped into the room. ‘I’m off to do some hospital rounds before surgery starts. Just brought you a cuppa.’

‘Oh, Dad, how lovely. Thank you.’

John Morrow placed the cup and saucer carefully on her bedside table. ‘How are you feeling this morning, possum?’

‘Fine,’ she lied.

‘You needed a good night’s sleep.’ Her father leant down and kissed Tessa’s cheek. Then he straightened and looked at her thoughtfully. His eyes, the clear blue that she’d inherited, were narrowed slightly behind his spectacles.

Tessa returned his gaze but could think of nothing to say. Her father loved Isaac, too. He was delighted to have him back—but for him there were no complications.

As if he guessed the direction of her thoughts, Dr. Morrow spoke. ‘Isaac’s been up for hours, roaming with that dog of his on the hill, I think. I’ve told your mother to let him know he’s welcome to go sailing if he wants to. There’s a good south-easterly forecast for today, and Antares needs a run.’

Tessa nodded. ‘He’d like that, I’m sure.’ She was relieved when her father left after giving her hair a quick ruffle. She reminded herself once more of her task for the next three days—to simply survive and to get herself safely married to Paul Hammond.

But there was nothing simple about survival, she realised as, after showering and dressing for work, she discovered Isaac, dressed in a skimpy athletics singlet and shorts, tucking into a huge bowl of tropical fruit and muesli at the breakfast table. Her appetite dwindled at the sight of him sitting there as if he belonged, just as he had through all her teenage years.

It was dangerously like the morning she’d first realised she was in love with him.

It had happened at breakfast one morning when she’d looked up sleepily from her cereal and toast. He’d grinned at her, and then unexpectedly his dark eyes had flared with black heat as they slid to the pale skin of her shoulder and the tops of her ripening breasts, inadvertently exposed when her thin cotton nightdress slipped sideways.

And in a heartbeat, she’d responded to that look, her senses leaping to an entirely new level of awareness. With a sudden clarity of vision, she had understood the secret messages his eyes signalled. And just as suddenly, Tessa realised that this young person she lived with was a magnificent specimen of masculinity. How was it that until then she had never really appreciated the breadth of his shoulders, the sculpted muscles, the strength in his brown hands and the sweet, secretive depths of his eyes?

It was if she’d entered another level of existence. And it was shortly after that morning that Rosalind insisted she must no longer stumble out to breakfast in her nightdress.

‘I’d forgotten the taste of a perfect tropical pawpaw,’ Isaac commented as she edged shakily into a seat at the far side of the table.

‘They’ve been superb lately,’ Tessa muttered, her stomach quaking all over again at his early morning appearance. There was no doubt about it, her impression last night had been quite correct. He was a downright male miracle.

‘What time do you usually leave for work?’ he asked.

‘Oh, er, eight o’clock,’ she stammered.

‘Then you’d better eat up. It’s almost that now.’

‘I don’t think I can face breakfast this morning. I’ll just have a coffee,’ she said, reaching for the pot.

‘Tess, you know that’s very foolish. No wonder people are worried you’ll keel over at the drop of a hat. Here, at least have half my toast.’ He took a slice of wholemeal toast, spread it with marmalade, cut half for himself and held the other half out to her. And he smiled a warm smile that mesmerised her with bewildering ease. ‘That’s better,’ he said as she bit into the crust, her eyes still held by his. Then, flipping a set of car keys onto the table, he told her, ‘I’m to be your chauffeur, so let me know when you’re ready.’

The absurd spell was broken. ‘My chauffeur?’ She shook her head. ‘But that’s ridiculous. I’m perfectly capable of driving myself. It’s totally unnecessary!’

‘I’m afraid it is quite necessary. Rosalind’s busy, John’s already left, and you’re not to drive because of your, er, condition. I’m afraid I’m your only hope.’

‘My condition? What nonsense.’

‘I guess it must be a pain in the neck to be ordered not to drive, but that’s your father’s strict instruction. I’ve heard it from both him and from Rosalind.’ He was smiling as he looked at her, his eyes alight and teasing, but the next minute, Tessa wondered if it were bravado. Quite suddenly Isaac frowned, and his relaxed manner evaporated while his eyes darkened and his face grew taut. ‘Tess,’ he began, and then paused, his throat working as he clenched and unclenched his fists. ‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’

‘For heaven’s sake, Isaac!’ Tessa’s cheeks flared. ‘What on earth makes you ask that?’

‘It’s just that everyone’s treating you like you’re so damned delicate.’

‘Of course I’m not pregnant. That’s impossi—’ She bit her tongue so hard it hurt. There was no way she wanted Isaac to know the intimate secrets of her demure relationship with Paul. Of course, there was nothing wrong with their love life. Surely it was possible for a successful marriage to grow from a relationship that started with limited physical desire. All that came later…when necessary. But she wouldn’t expect Isaac to understand such things. He was an animal when it came to passion. She could never imagine behaving with Paul as she had with Isaac.

And that was just as well! What she needed was a calm, sedate life. She’d had enough turmoil to last her the rest of her days.

But it wasn’t going to get any better just yet.

Isaac was regarding her with a searching stare, his heavy brows drawn low over dark glittering eyes, and a shaft of something like electricity chased around her stomach. He picked up the keys and jingled them in one hand.

‘When you’re ready, m’lady.’

‘This is hopeless,’ she said, fuming. ‘The last person I want to be driving around with all week is you!’

His fist snapped tightly around the keys as his eyes narrowed to black cracks in his hard face. ‘You surprise me, Queen Tess. I thought you’d be pleased to see me put in my place—as your servant.’

There it was again. This snide implication that she was a first-class snob. What had she ever done to make him hate her so fiercely? His contempt for her was obvious in the curl of his lip and the thrust of his jaw. She spun away, blinking back tears, and went to collect her things.

In the seconds before she flounced off, however, her eyes caught a bleak shadow of sadness flickering across his face before it was swiftly replaced by a mocking grimace. When she returned with a bulging carryall ready for work, Isaac’s expression had settled into hard-edged anger. He looked as if he would like to grab her and shake her. Tessa frowned. Why was he so angry? She couldn’t believe he was bothered about the kind of relationship she had with the man she planned to marry.

It wasn’t as if he wanted her for himself.

She pinned her lips into a tight smile. ‘I’m ready, Jeeves.’

He offered her a mock bow, and she knew he was trying to annoy her. The motion conveyed no trace of humility, but he lifted the carryall from her shoulder with athletic grace. She followed him down the short flight of steps to the garage.

‘Do we have far to drive?’ he asked.

‘Not really—only to South Townsville.’ She stopped on the second last step, causing him to turn. ‘Isaac…’ He stared at her speculatively. ‘About staying here till the wedding,’ she said nervously. ‘You don’t have to, you know. I mean, you’ve been gone for so long. Why come back now?’

‘It really bothers you?’

She reached for the iron rail beside her. ‘No, of course it doesn’t bother me. But you don’t like Paul particularly…’

‘What makes you say that?’

Her shoulder lifted in a tiny shrug. ‘I guess it’s just something I’ve sensed.’

Isaac stood very still staring at her. His gaze seemed to read the very depths of her soul. He was silent for the longest time, and Tessa kept a strong grip on the railing.

‘Then you’ve sensed wrongly,’ he replied at last, speaking so softly she could only just hear the words. His voice rose. ‘But I’ll be damned if I’m going to start praising the fellow just to make you feel better.’

‘Of course, I don’t need you to—’

‘Besides, it doesn’t really matter how I feel about your man, does it? I’m not marrying him.’

‘No, I didn’t mean—’ Tessa shook her head desperately.

Isaac swung her bag casually over his shoulder and turned towards the car. ‘You love him, and that’s all that counts. Isn’t that right?’

‘Y-yes. Of course.’

‘So if it doesn’t bother you to have me here, and the sight of your bridegroom doesn’t worry me in the slightest, is there really a problem?’

Tessa shook her head dazedly and stepped towards the car. ‘No problem. Let’s go,’ she muttered and walked quickly to the passenger door, waiting for him to unlock it for her.

They drove through the city in silence, but as they approached South Townsville, Isaac looked at the railway yards and old sheds curiously.

‘I’m surprised you’re not working in one of the newer suburbs,’ he commented. ‘But I suppose gentrification of inner suburbs has reached Townsville as well as the southern cities.’

‘To a certain extent,’ Tessa agreed. ‘Trendy couples are buying old Queenslander cottages and renovating and extending them to look just like the pictures you see in house and garden magazines.’

‘And I guess it’s the offspring of these young and upwardly mobile professionals who attend your admirable preschool,’ he said, shooting her a knowing glance.

‘So what are you implying?’ she asked. She had a fair idea. He considered her a snob at work as well as in her private life.

‘Don’t fret, Tessa. I’m sure you give these smart young fry a flying start in the education rat-race.’ A brief smile illuminated his face.

But the smile evaporated with her next words. ‘My school is over here on the left.’

Isaac applied the brake and changed gears while trying to locate the spot Tessa indicated. He stared at the dilapidated, long, low building of fibro painted a garish yellow trimmed with red, then blinked as he focused on a sign painted near the front entrance—Burrawang Day Care and PreSchool Centre.

‘This is it?’ he asked, as he pulled into the kerb, unable to disguise the surprise in his voice.

‘Yes,’ she replied with a smile, enjoying his shock and already looking forward to the day ahead. She loved her work. ‘Thanks for the lift, Isaac.’

As she opened her door, his hand on her arm stilled her. ‘How about I pick you up and we catch a bite to eat at lunchtime?’

Tessa’s smile froze. ‘Oh, I can’t possibly get away then. I have to supervise the children’s lunches.’

‘Don’t you have any assistants?’

‘Yes, two wonderful women, but…’

‘I’m sure they’d let you off for half an hour or so. I think we need to talk—to set things straight before the big day.’

‘I—I don’t know,’ Tessa demurred. She needed a day free from Isaac—a chance to catch her breath, to refocus on her wedding. ‘Aren’t you going sailing? Dad said you should take Antares for a run.’

‘I think it would be wise if we talk things through,’ he said. ‘I might go for a sail late this afternoon. But we need to lay a few ghosts before you embark on your new life.’

‘Do you really think so?’ she muttered.

‘Damn sure of it.’

‘Won’t it mean going over unpleasant memories?’

Isaac stared at her, and the hand on the steering wheel clenched. For a moment she wondered if he regretted the impulsive invitation. ‘Let’s hope not,’ he said, shifting his gaze to the road ahead. ‘I’m sure we can manage a civilised, adult conversation.’

‘All right then,’ she replied uncertainly. ‘Pick me up at one o’clock.’

She told herself she could do it. She would steer away from dangerously provocative topics—like his reasons for abandoning her. He’d take her to lunch and tell her all about his success in his business. And she would tell him about Paul’s plans to build a house on the hill. After they’d both been through the superficial exercise of fulfilling each other’s expectations, she would feel better. She’d be able to waltz past him down the aisle on Saturday and she wouldn’t feel a thing.

That was the plan.

At one o’clock she met him just inside the door. She was almost getting used to the impact of his spellbinding male elegance, even in jeans and a white polo shirt.

‘I’d like to come in and have a squiz around if I may,’ he surprised her by asking.

Frowning, Tessa stepped back and gestured for him to continue inside.

‘I’ve never been in one of these places. Never went to one myself, of course,’ he said with a self-conscious laugh. ‘My mother was always too…’

‘Of course, Isaac,’ Tessa murmured soothingly. He looked as if his confidence had suddenly deserted him, and Tessa’s heart leapt. ‘Many of these children have mothers like yours….’

She didn’t continue. There was no point in filling in the details about his deserted mother, who’d clung to her drug addiction as an excuse to never recover after his father left them and was later reported killed. He’d shared the horrors of his early childhood with her once, in the days when she thought he trusted her.

‘You can have a look around if you like,’ she replied. ‘It’s all pretty simple.’

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as his eyes took in the building, little more than a galvanised iron shed, no better inside than out. ‘I had a vague idea that preschools were modern airy buildings with large tinted windows and set in landscaped gardens with plenty of shade cover and elaborate play sculptures.’

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.