‘You did a great job of winning him over, Troy. I don’t think you needed me here at all.’
‘I want the plant to progress. That’s just good business-sense. And don’t underestimate the benefit of your presence.’ Troy gestured to a waiter. As the man approached, he asked Stacie if she’d like coffee and dessert. ‘It’s still early.’
‘I would, actually.’ Stacie gave a half-embarrassed laugh. ‘The tiramisu here is really spectacular.’ It wouldn’t be wrong to stay, to talk a little longer, just the two of them would it? If they simply spoke of work matters, didn’t that mean it was fine?
‘I’d rather let that rain ease off a bit before we drive back.’ Troy’s words seemed to decide the issue, and in a wholly pragmatic manner.
So, you see it was obvious—Troy wasn’t thinking about anything even slightly close to memories of kisses. He probably had production schedules circulating in his head!
Stacie told herself she could relax, and if she felt a spark of something that rather resembled disappointment she didn’t allow herself to admit it.
‘You’re digging in.’ She hadn’t really realised it until just now. ‘You’ve taken the future of the plant to heart, not just to see it keep going, but to make the absolute best of it that you can.’
He was already doing the same with his orchards. ‘You’ll make your enterprises here successful, Troy. It’s in your nature to make that happen.’
‘No matter what the career path …’ He seemed arrested by the thought. And then he looked at her. ‘You’re doing the same. Pushing forward.’
‘Yes. I really want to make a success of the Bow-wow-tique as a full-time business, and I believe, now that I’ve positioned myself here at Tarrula, I’ll be able to.’
He blew over the top of his coffee and sipped. ‘I think you will, too.’
Will … what?
For a moment Stacie couldn’t recall the thread of the conversation. She’d been distracted by lips that she’d thought from the start were made for kisses; now she knew …
‘Tell me about growing up, Troy. Or life in the army. Both.’ Anything to distract her from wanting his kisses again.
Too late.
And how would getting to know him more fix her problem of trying not to desire him as a man?
‘I left my home at seventeen.’ Troy took a spoonful of his dessert. ‘I go back for visits, but my parents are retired and travelling a lot. I can’t say we’re particularly close. Dad’s a quiet man, keeps to himself pretty much, and Mum’s always found me a bit hard to … accept, I think.’
He was giving her a chance to get to know him, to glimpse his past world—where he’d come from and what made him tick.
It felt right to reciprocate, at least to a degree. ‘I had a good childhood, a happy one.’ Maybe that was why, as they had all got older, she hadn’t wanted to notice when men started to gloss over her existence and only see her beautiful sisters.
It had taken Andrew, allowing her to believe he loved her and would eventually marry her—and then falling at Gemma’s feet instead, with an engagement ring in his hand, no less—for Stacie’s hopes to tumble down.
Stacie’s chin came up. ‘My sisters are very beautiful women.’ And that was enough about that.
‘Did you have a fulfilling career in the army, Troy?’ Had he reached his zenith before injury had robbed him of all of that?
‘I don’t know if the climb ever would have ended.’ The colour of Troy’s eyes darkened, as he seemed to consider the question. ‘But, yes, I’d reached a lot of my goals before the injury.’
He went on to explain how he’d moved through the ranks within the armed forces, into special-ops and what he’d achieved there. When Troy told her about the mission that had resulted in his injury, he was guarded about details, but told enough of a story for Stacie to realise the relief he’d felt that the mission had been a success—that no one else on the team had been injured, that they’d all got out alive and accomplished what they had set out to do.
Stacie met his gaze and something in it warned her not to become too sentimental about all that. ‘I’ve lived an easy life in comparison. I have supportive parents and my sisters. Now I have my farmlet to gradually bring up to standard inside and out, and my Bow-wow-tique business to grow. I’d dabbled with it for a couple of years before I moved here. I’m glad I finally got serious about it.’
‘I think you’ve lived more than you realize, or are perhaps letting on.’ His low words were observant. ‘And I think I’d find it interesting to meet your family.’
Too observant; Stacie had been through pain and she didn’t want to carry all of that forward into what her life was now. She wanted to leave it behind her, and he’d just hit on the one topic Stacie didn’t want to explore—how she currently related to her family.
‘I want to live my own life, my own way.’ The words came on a burst of sound, and she turned her attention back to Troy to get away from the emotions they invoked. ‘With a career like yours, would you have planned to marry?’
The moment she asked the words, she shook her head. ‘Sorry. That’s not really my business.’
‘I was engaged to a woman who also had a career in the army.’ Troy’s words held a calm inflection that didn’t quite seem to reach his eyes.
Somewhere in their depths, Stacie saw turbulence: anger at fate, perhaps, for robbing him of his dreams, not only in terms of work, but personally as well?
Why had the engagement ended?
‘Linda couldn’t move forward with me. I’d have held her back.’ Troy spoke the words flatly. ‘If she hadn’t made that decision, I’d have made it for her.’
‘She agreed to this because you were injured?’ Shock made her words sharp; disapproval honed them even more. He didn’t need to confirm it. The truth was in his steady gaze. ‘That’s wrong.’
It hadn’t been love! This Linda should have been at his side, seeing him through!
A deep anger filled Stacie. Hadn’t Troy faced enough, without such a loss being added at a time when he must have been able to accept it least? Yet he was saying he’d have instigated the break up if his fiancée hadn’t!
‘I have no emotion for a second attempt at a relationship.’
His words made it clear that he believed that he had a lack of emotion deep down within himself. Stacie had looked into his eyes; she’d seen the hardness.
But he’d held her gently, kissed her softly as well as with passion.
Had she imagined those emotions in Troy because she wanted them to be there?
Just as you did with Andrew, Stacie? Except in his case those emotions weren’t truly there for you but could be found and handed to your sister.
‘I
