tantalising contact with his own. Frankly, he was a bundle of nerves by the time they reached St Stephen’s station and couldn’t wait to alight. Being that close to Leanne had tested his self-control beyond any reasonable limits, but he couldn’t afford to forget the rules by which he’d lived for the past ten years.
It was a depressing thought but he tried not to show how much it upset him as they stepped off the escalator into the station’s concourse. Nick paused and looked round, wondering what he should do. He had left home early with the express intention of having breakfast at one of the station’s numerous cafés, and it had suddenly occurred to him how rude it would be not to invite Leanne along.
‘I was going to stop for coffee and something to eat,’ he explained, turning to her. He felt his heart bump painfully when she looked around and he saw the concern in her beautiful grey eyes.
Had she guessed how upset he always felt whenever he spoke about Matt? he thought wonderingly. Was that why she looked so sad all of a sudden, because she cared that he was hurting?
He sensed it was so and it was both a pleasure and a pain to realise it because he couldn’t afford to wallow in the comfort she could offer him. He had to stick to the decision he’d made all those years ago. He could never ask a woman to commit herself to him when he had nothing to offer her.
‘How do you fancy joining me for breakfast? My treat.’ It was an effort to behave naturally when his mind was suddenly awash with desires which he had thought he’d put behind him a long time ago.
‘Oh, that’s very kind—’ she began, and he found himself interrupting when he sensed that she was going to refuse. Maybe he was playing with fire, but the thought of spending a little more time on his own with her was too tempting to resist.
‘Say that you’ll come,’ he coaxed. ‘Just a quick cup of coffee and maybe a roll if you’re not very hungry? I hate eating on my own so you will be doing me a favour.’ He smiled appealingly at her, watching the rapid play of emotions that crossed her face before she shrugged.
‘Why not? A cup of coffee might help to warm me up.’ She gave an exaggerated shiver. ‘I still haven’t acclimatised to the British weather.’
‘Even we British haven’t acclimatised to our weather, which is why it’s such an endlessly fascinating topic of conversation!’
He quirked a brow when she chuckled, trying to disguise how pleased he felt that she had accepted his invitation. Frankly, he couldn’t understand why it should mean so much to him. All they were going to do was share coffee and a snack, hardly an earth-shattering moment in anyone’s life.
‘I’m not kidding. Put two Brits together and they’ll spend most of their time discussing the vagaries of the weather. You’ll never be at a loss for something to say if you stick to the weather as a topic.’
She burst out laughing. ‘If I’d said that you would claim I was being racist!’
‘Probably. But the one thing we British are good at is not taking ourselves too seriously. Right, two large cups of coffee coming up. And how about some bacon sandwiches to go with them?’
‘No way! Think of all that cholesterol.’ She shook her head so vigorously that a wisp of dark red hair broke free from its restraining pins.
Nick’s hands clenched because he wasn’t sure that he would be able to resist smoothing it back into place if he didn’t get a grip on himself. How would she feel about that? he wondered, then cut short the answer because he didn’t want to hear it. Even allowing himself to imagine that Leanne might not be averse to him touching her hair—or other parts of her beautiful body—was too big a test of his self-control.
‘All right, then, no bacon. The sausage is pretty good, though, especially if you add lots of brown sauce…That’s a thought. Do you Aussies appreciate the finer points of brown sauce? If not, your taste buds are in for a treat.’
He breathed a sigh of relief when she laughed. All things considered, he hadn’t handled things too badly, he decided as they made their way to the nearest café. He’d kept his cool and hadn’t made a complete idiot of himself. Great! Now all he had to do was keep it up for the next three months while Leanne worked at the clinic and he was home and dry.
Is that all? a small voice whispered. A mere twelve weeks of pretending that Leanne doesn’t have the power to turn your life inside out? You have nothing to worry about, then, do you?
Nick swallowed a groan. Who was he kidding? Nothing about this situation was going to be easy. All he could do was pray that he had the strength of mind to stick to what he knew was right. No matter how much he liked Leanne, nothing could ever come of it.
‘Just coffee and one of those rolls, please.’
Leanne pointed to a tray of sugary rolls at the back of the counter, nodding when the assistant asked if she wanted jam with it. ‘Please.’
She took the plate and followed Nick to the checkout. Even at this early hour of the day, the café was crowded, but she spotted a couple getting up from a table in the corner and pointed towards it. ‘I’ll snag that table for us. OK?’
‘Fine.’ Nick gave her a quick smile then hunted some money out of his pocket to pay the cashier.
Leanne made her way to the table, edging aside the debris left by the previous diners so that she could put her tray down. She unloaded her cup and plate then piled the dirty dishes onto the tray and handed them to the young man who had arrived to clear up. By the time Nick arrived, the table had been wiped clean and she had managed to find paper napkins and silverware.
‘How very organised you are, Miss Russell. I usually end up bobbing up and down, fetching all the things I’ve forgotten.’ He unloaded his tray then grinned when he spotted the small packets of brown sauce propped against the salt cellar.
‘You get extra points for those!’ he said, laughing at her. ‘Were you a Guide, by any chance? You seem to be very well prepared.’
‘It comes from waiting on tables at my parents’ restaurant, although brown sauce isn’t something my dad normally offers his clientele,’ she explained with a grin.
Nick’s brows rose. ‘Clientele, eh? I take it that your dad doesn’t run a greasy-spoon café, then?’
‘You take it right.’ She ripped open a packet of sugar and poured it onto the frothy white bubbles floating on the surface of her cup of cappuccino. ‘Dad caters for the top end of the market. The restaurant overlooks Sydney harbour and the people who go there expect—and get—the very best cuisine.’
‘Sounds a great spot to dine,’ he observed, cutting his sandwich in half. ‘I spent six months in Sydney a few years back and fell in love with the place. The waterfront is stunning.’
‘Melanie told me that you’ve travelled extensively,’ she said, breaking off a piece of roll and liberally spreading it with strawberry conserve.
‘I have.’ He ate some of his bacon sandwich then wiped his mouth on a paper napkin before continuing. ‘India, Africa, Australia and New Zealand, plus all kinds of places in between too numerous to mention.’
‘Really? I’d never been out of Australia before I came to England,’ she said. ‘Did you always want to travel from way back when you were young?’
‘Not
