well…’
‘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
