I’m sure he is,’ she said unhappily.
Seth opened his mouth to apologise, but swiftly changed his mind. He wasn’t about to apologise for kissing a lovely girl in the moonlight.
And he wasn’t prepared to admit that the kiss might have been a mistake, even though it was almost certainly a huge error of judgement. He’d let his desire for Amy complicate a situation that was already thorny enough. He would have to tell her the truth sooner rather than later, but he couldn’t face it now. The painful story was still raw inside him. I’ll do it soon, he thought. When I’ve had more time to prepare.
For now, he decided, it was better to simply change the subject.
‘Are you ready for dessert?’ Before Amy could object, Seth added, quickly, ‘You have to try Ming’s watermelon balls in green ginger wine.’
The ghost of a smile flickered. ‘That does sound tempting.’
‘Take a seat. I’ll be back in a sec—as soon as I collect the desserts from the kitchen.’
As Seth headed off Amy let out her breath on a shuddering sigh. She felt as if she’d been holding her breath ever since he’d kissed her, and now she was grateful for this moment alone, for this chance to close her eyes while she relived that astonishing experience.
It was too bad that Ming had seen them, but she wasn’t nearly as worried as she’d made out.
What she wondered now was how she’d lived so long, and dated so many guys, without discovering that one kiss could be a phenomenal, life-changing moment.
Gently, with a sense of wonderment, she traced the soft skin on her lips as she remembered the hot, out-of-this-world thrill that had jolted through her body as Seth’s mouth settled against hers.
She’d give anything to experience that sensation again—everything: her job, her life in Melbourne, the close contact with her family.
She’d never felt anything remotely as exciting when Dominic had kissed her. Small wonder their relationship hadn’t survived. There’d been no real chemistry.
Chemistry. That was the secret ingredient in tonight’s kiss, wasn’t it? Mysterious, magical, astonishing chemistry.
But chemical reactions could also be dangerous and she had to remember that now as she heard Seth’s footsteps returning.
She had to remember that Seth was potentially dangerous. Chances were, every woman reacted that way when he kissed them. Especially that one woman who’d broken his heart.
And Rachel.
A thud of disappointment brought Amy back to earth. What on earth had she been thinking? She couldn’t afford to forget, even for a moment, why she was here. Clearly, this man was indeed dangerous. He had seduced her best friend and made her pregnant and here she was getting into a flap over a tiny kiss that probably meant nothing more to him than yet another woman falling at his feet.
‘I think you’ll find this dessert is the perfect second course after curry,’ Seth said as he reached her.
‘Thank you,’ she said primly.
He set a green glass bowl in front of her and she caught the sweet scent of watermelon mingled with the deeper spiciness of the green ginger wine.
‘That smell reminds me of Christmas,’ she said, determined to steer her thoughts onto a safer track.
‘It certainly reminds me of summer. Tuck in.’
She watched as Seth slipped a marble-sized ball of lush pink fruit from his spoon to his mouth.
Oh, for heaven’s sake! Already she was thinking about his mouth, about his kiss—so perfect.
‘What’s Christmas like here?’ she asked, trying again for a distraction. ‘Do you usually have a big party?’
‘Not any more. We used to throw parties, but they’re not really my scene.’
‘That’s a pity.’ She looked around her at the open-plan living spaces on the veranda, and she pictured paper lanterns in the garden. ‘This is a perfect house for a party, and with Ming to help with catering it would be a breeze, and so much fun.’
‘So you like parties, do you?’
‘Most parties,’ she said. ‘I sometimes have to organise them as part of my job—to help clients with networking, or to launch new products.’
As she said this Amy was hit by memories of the launch party on the night Rachel died and she felt another sickening thud, deep inside, as if her heart had crashed from a great height.
‘Amy, are you all right?’
She reached for her water glass and took a deep sip. ‘I’m OK,’ she said. ‘It just catches me every so often—the pain, you know—when I think about Rachel.’
‘Yeah,’ he said softly. ‘I do know what you mean. And it lasts a long time, I’m afraid. I still miss my dad after all these years, and it’s been worse since my uncle died.’
She was surprised that Seth hadn’t mentioned mourning for Rachel, too. Surely he must feel some degree of grief for Bella’s mother?
For Amy the smallest memory of Rachel could trigger pain—Rachel’s habit of flicking her long, pale hair over her shoulders. Her deep, throaty laugh. A punchline from the zany jokes she loved to tell.
But she wasn’t prepared to share these memories with Seth. It was far safer to leave the intimate details of his history with Rachel where they belonged—firmly in the past.
Unhappily, she scooped up a spoonful of wine-drenched fruit. ‘Can you tell me more about your uncle? Did he always live here?’
Seth shook his head. ‘He started off in Sydney like the rest of my family. Moved to Cape York in his late twenties.’
‘To be a cattleman?’
‘Yeah.’ Seth smiled. ‘Left a thriving family business to become a struggling grazier.’
‘That’s intriguing.’ She dipped her spoon into the bowl. These watermelon balls were amazing. ‘What was the family business?’
‘Have you ever heard of Reardon and Grace?’
She shook her head.
‘It’s a very old importing and exporting business. My great-great-grandfather started it way back, and he owned one of the first warehouses in Sydney.’
‘Wow.’
‘All the men in my family have played a role in the firm, including my father. Seth was the first to leave.’
‘Seth? Was that your uncle’s name, too?’
‘Yes. He was my father’s younger brother.’
Amy frowned. Somehow, this information seemed significant, but she was too caught
