Yeah, he thought, it cost her to say that. ‘Accepted.’
‘Even if it was true.’
With the evidence in his jeans what could he say that he hadn’t already said? He shrugged, looking away to the low hills in the distance, freeing himself from the spell her eyes seemed to cast over him. ‘So we shared a kiss—no big deal—don’t beat yourself up over it. In fact, forget it, if it makes you feel any better.’
‘I already have. It never happened.’ Liar, Anneliese admitted to herself, her lips still throbbing with Steve’s taste. His scent was imprinted on her brain.
That single solitary kiss would keep her awake and edgy for the next century. Just as he’d said three years ago: You’d just spend the rest of the night awake and restless and wishing for more than just a kiss. Oh, she remembered, word for word. Worse, Steve knew it. She knew he knew it.
‘I’m going back to the car. It’s freezing out here. Are you coming?’ He turned around and began walking.
Anneliese watched him stride away, his shirt flapping in the wind. He hadn’t even checked to see if she was following. How could he be so casual when they’d just shared such a mind-blowing kiss?
Except that was the kind of man he was; he probably had forgotten about it. So she did not want to be some place alone and relive it, she was not going to think about Steve that way at all.
‘Chocolate.’ He broke the last four squares in half—without crushing them—and offered her two. They were back in the relative warmth and comfort of the car. Steve had taken the driver’s side, leaving Anneliese with the edge of the quilt that still held a hint of his residual heat, the lingering scent of his aftershave—not good for her decision not to think about him.
‘I thought that was breakfast,’ she murmured.
‘Take my share—I’ve had more than enough today. Comfort food,’ he reminded her when she made no move to take it.
She nodded, appreciating the simple gesture since there was nothing else till they found a roadhouse, wherever and whenever that might be, and held out her cupped hand. ‘Thank you.’
‘Okay,’ he said slowly, when she’d finished. ‘Have you discussed how you feel about your mum with your dad?’
Dad. The memory of him standing on the veranda this morning, looking smaller, frail, as if he’d shrunk somehow. Dad. The man who saved lives, the man who’d given her every opportunity to experience her own life to its fullest. The father who loved her.
The father who’d lied to her.
Not her father.
‘No.’
‘Don’t you think you should have?’
‘It’s personal. Besides, what would that do to his stress levels?’
He looked at her, his gaze incredulous. ‘You’re going to Surfers Paradise—alone—you don’t think that’s adding to it?’
She sucked in a lungful of air. Her sister lived there. Her biological sister. She’d had a sibling for twenty-four years and had no idea what she looked like, who she was as a person. And, no, she wasn’t going to open up to Steve, no matter how badly she wanted to unburden her secret. Especially not to Steve. She didn’t want to be any more vulnerable to him than she already was.
‘You’re not pregnant, are you?’ His tight voice dragged her back, and she looked into a pair of razor-sharp eyes. Eyes that held definite traces of anger, bitterness and old hurt.
A half-laugh bubbled up, then sobered. Did he have a child out there somewhere from one of his affairs, someone he wondered about? ‘Not that it’s any of your business but, no, I’m not pregnant and I wouldn’t be careless enough to get myself in that situation. There are enough unwanted kids out there,’ she finished with her own bitter thoughts of the mother who hadn’t loved her enough to keep her.
Her life was in such turmoil, how could she bring another life into the world and give it the happiness it deserved? But if she was… Oh, to have someone that came from your own flesh. To belong. And she was travelling halfway across Australia to find that blood connection. Yet she hadn’t replied to the woman called Abigail Seymour she’d found on the Internet adoption site and who worked in a boutique hotel in Surfers Paradise.
And wasn’t that the ultimate irony? She couldn’t bring herself to take that step. To cross the boundary between Anneliese and a girl called Hayley.
She became aware of Steve’s silent scrutiny. And the narrowing of his eyes, the tightness around his mouth. Then he looked past her, his gaze clouded and dark. ‘Are you saying a child of yours would be unwanted? That you’d do whatever it took to be rid of the problem?’
‘I don’t think that’s relevant since I’m not pregnant. This trip’s important,’ she said into the silence. ‘It’s something I have to do.’
His gaze swung back to her. ‘And you’ve chosen to do it away from any kind of support network. Your father loves you and you’re pushing him away.’
At his words, she felt the shivers ripple through her and hugged her arms around her middle, closing her eyes to hide the tears threatening to spill over. ‘Butt out of my business, Steve.’
But Steve heard the desperation behind the tough talk and couldn’t not touch her. He shifted sideways, slipped his arm around her shoulders…and felt an overpowering need to protect. That protective instinct had cost him his happiness once before, but he didn’t let himself think about that now.
For the short time they were here, he cleared his mind of old mistakes and focused instead on Anneliese. On the texture of her hair against his hand, her fragrance, the way she held herself stiff and rigid against his arm. ‘Relax. I’m not going to jump you.’ But that kiss was still smouldering in his mind…and other parts of his anatomy.
‘I know that.’ She rolled her shoulders, leaned a little more loosely against his arm, but her voice came out slightly strangled, as if she was only half convinced.
Her head fell back against his arm, exposing her smooth white throat. ‘I know how you feel…what you think about me.’
Think? Maybe. Feel—that was a different matter altogether. ‘And what do I think?’
‘That I’m a pampered princess like those rich chicks you see in the media, whining because she isn’t above the law when she gets caught drink-driving. Expecting her parents to sort the mess out.’ She made a quick jerky movement with her hand. ‘And now, just when I’m trying to reclaim some control over my life and be independent and take some responsibility for myself you come along and rob me of that chance.’
‘I’m not trying to take anything away from you, Anneliese. Coming with you was Cindy’s idea, remember? There’s independence and there’s independence. And a responsible girl would know the difference.’
‘Are you saying I’m irresponsible?’
‘No. Not intentionally at any rate.’
‘So
