gaze that she knew was mirrored in her own.
His pupils were wide and dark, and there was a new softness to the way he held himself. Now he was watching her mouth. Her lips parted on a sudden in-breath, her heartbeat quickened and then he released his hold and the moment passed.
It was a relief. She wasn’t prepared for something like this tonight.
‘I m-must get to Mum and Dad’s to pick up Max,’ she stammered. ‘Don’t lose touch now that you’re back.’
Big points for inanity on that one, Hayley!
‘I won’t,’ Byron said. He might have said more, but she was already striding off along the corridor.
He watched her for a moment.
It was visiting hour, and there were knots of people about, some of them looking distinctly uncomfortable in the hospital environment. Hayley took no notice of them, kept her head down and her walk rapid so that her delicate gold and jade earrings swung against her slender neck and caught the light. He’d noticed that before.
Speed seemed to suit Hayley, Byron decided. She had been fast in the pool, she was fast at the wheel of an ambulance and she was fast on her feet. Organised. Efficient.
Escaping.
He knew it. Was deeply glad she felt the same way he did about that little moment of heat in the doorway, and about the way their hands had kept straying together across the restaurant table as they’d talked. He’d always found her very attractive. She was compact yet strong, with gorgeously smooth skin and a constant sparkle of life and warmth in her dark brown eyes.
Of course they’d all been a mass of stimulated hormones at swim club, surrounded by all that slick, wet skin and smoothly honed muscle. He had fancied almost all the girls at one stage or another, even the ones he hadn’t particularly liked.
Perhaps that was how he’d learned so early on that you had to divorce physical attraction from emotional connection. When he’d met Elizabeth during his second year of medicine at Sydney University, their physical response to each other had been just one part of the package—the uniquely precious and complete package he knew he’d never find again. Didn’t even want to find again, in fact.
These days, he didn’t have that scatter-gun, adolescent approach to women. Only during those late teen years had he fancied anything and everything in a skirt. The sit-up-and-howl feeling came much less often, now. There was discrimination involved.
And yet he still found Hayley Kennett...or whatever her surname was now...very attractive indeed. Found that their long-ago kiss was surprisingly vivid in his memory. It unsettled him. Scared him, if he was honest.
No. Definitely. I don’t need it. I don’t want it.
It was an instinctive thing, and not something he wanted to analyse too closely. Wasn’t the reluctance enough? Did he have to work out why?
Yes. Perhaps he did. Take a deep breath and just do it, Byron.
He didn’t fully trust his judgement, or his reactions—that was part of the problem. It would be so easy to numb himself...assuage certain needs...with an affair, kidding himself that it was safe with Hayley because they’d known each other for so long. But what would happen when the affair ended and the numbness wore off? He’d be back to square one, and minus an old friend. Worse, he’d have lanced open the still-not-fully-healed wound of Elizabeth’s loss and the agony would be back.
No, if he was going to launch into any kind of new relationship, now that he was back in Arden, it wouldn’t be with Hayley, he decided firmly. It would be with someone much, much safer.
On that note, feeling relieved, he went in to see his mother.
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