in a breath and opened the door, but before he could reach for the light switch she had rushed past him and headed straight to the bathroom.
While she was in the shower someone from Housekeeping arrived with a roll-out bed, which, once it was set up, shrank the space to give the room an alarmingly intimate feel.
Matt swung away and looked out of the window, trying not to think of Kellie’s naked body standing under the shower next door. His whole body felt tense, his blood surging to his groin at the thought of spending the night in the same room as her with less than a metre of space to separate them. He was angry at himself, angry that he was allowing sheer animal attraction to override his common sense.
He closed his eyes and tried to think of Madeleine, but her features seemed less defined, blurry almost, as if she was slowly but inexorably moving out of focus. He clenched his fists and tried to recall the scent of her perfume but even that, too, had drifted out of his reach.
‘I’m all done,’ Kellie said as she came out of the bathroom.
Matt slowly turned from the window, his lower belly kicking in reaction at the sight of her in one of the hotel’s fluffy white bathrobes, her wet hair loose about her shoulders, the fresh orange-blossom fragrance of the shampoo and shower gel she had used filling his nostrils.
‘I’ve washed out my things and left them to dry over the shower screen,’ she said. ‘I hope they won’t be in your way while you shower.’
‘Right …’ he said, moving past her. ‘Er … do you want to have a look through the room-service menu? It takes them about forty minutes to deliver it. You can order for me.’
‘What would you like?’ she asked.
Matt wasn’t sure he could even admit that to himself without another pang of shame slicing through him. ‘Anything,’ he said. ‘Surprise me.’
Kellie frowned as the bathroom door closed and locked behind him. After a moment or two she let out a little sigh, reached for the room-service menu and started reading.
Matt told himself he wasn’t even going to look at the tiny pair of black lace knickers hanging over the glass shower screen, but as he blindly reached for the bath gel they fell off and landed at his feet. He waited a beat or two before bending to pick them up, his fingers almost of their own accord squeezing the moisture out of them.
He hung them back up with careful precision and quickly finished his shower, but somehow the thought of Kellie standing where he was standing just minutes before, the water coursing over and caressing her slim form, unsettled him far more than he wanted to admit.
She was sitting with her legs curled underneath her on the roll-out bed, reading a tourist brochure, when he finally came out of the bathroom. She looked up and smiled at him in that totally engaging way of hers and informed him, ‘I’ve ordered you a steak with kipler potatoes and green vegetables. Is that OK?’
His stomach grumbled in anticipation. ‘That’s perfect,’ he said as he rubbed his wet hair with his towel. ‘What are you having?’
‘I couldn’t decide between the barramundi fillets with mango chilli salsa or the chicken with pesto and pine-nut stuffing or the loin of lamb with rosemary and garlic.’
He tried not to stare at the soft plumpness of her mouth. ‘So … what did you decide?’ he asked.
She tilted her head at him. ‘What do you think I chose?’
‘The fish,’ he said, feeling an involuntary smile pull at the corners of his mouth. ‘Definitely the fish.’
Her eyes went wide with surprise. ‘How on earth did you guess that?’
He gave his head another quick rub with the towel. ‘You’re a beach chick,’ he said. ‘You’ve probably grown up with fish bones between your teeth.’
She grinned at him. ‘I did, too,’ she said. ‘My brothers and I were taught to fish when we were still in nappies. I think I still hold the record for the most flathead caught in one outing.’
Matt marvelled yet again at how different their family backgrounds were. His father had taken him fishing once but it had been a disaster from start to finish. If the rain hadn’t been bad enough, the seasickness Matt had felt on the way home across the bay had made it a day to remember for all the wrong reasons. He could still recall his father’s scowling expression, as if Matt had been personally responsible for both the lack of fish and the inclement weather.
‘You sound like you had a very happy childhood,’ he said as he tossed his towel over the back of a chair.
‘I did,’ she said with another little smile. ‘I hope when I get married and have kids, I’ll be able to give them the sort of childhood I had.’
A stretching silence made the room seem ever smaller.
‘I’m sorry….’ Kellie said, biting her lip. ‘I guess that was a bit insensitive of me.’
He gave her an unreadable look. ‘No, not at all.’
Another beat or two of silence passed.
‘Tell me about her,’ Kellie said softly.
‘Tell you about who?’
‘Madeleine. Your fiancée. What was she like?’
Matt felt his chest start to tighten but after a moment’s hesitation he found himself telling her more than he had told anyone. ‘She was beautiful, a bit on the shy side but when she got to know you she would come out of her shell a bit more. She was an only child like me so we had a lot in common right from the start. We both found it hard to make friends easily. It took us time to learn to trust people.’
He took in a breath and continued, ‘She loved music, not that techno modern stuff but mostly classical. She played the piano and the flute like a pro but she couldn’t cook for peanuts.’ He gave a ghost of a smile that barely touched his mouth and went on, ‘I think it was because her mother and father did everything for her. Being their only child, it was understandable she was treated like a princess.’
‘Her parents must miss her dreadfully,’ Kellie said into the small silence.
His eyes met hers. ‘Yes …’ He released a long, rough-around-the-edges sigh. ‘She was their life, their entire focus for living. They’re like empty shells now.’
Kellie moistened her dry lips. ‘It’s nice that you keep in contact with them,’ she said. ‘Not many men in your situation would think to do that.’
He gave a rueful twist of his mouth but it wasn’t anywhere near a smile. ‘I’m not sure if it helps or hinders them, to tell you the truth,’ he confessed. ‘If I don’t call them regularly I feel guilty, but when I do call it sort of stirs it all up again for them, you know?’
She nodded. ‘I do know …’
He ran a hand through his still damp hair and sighed again. ‘It’s been six years and yet it sometimes feels as if it was yesterday.’
‘What happened?’ Kellie asked.
He sat on the end of the
