an anguished sigh.
He’d totally lost it, lost himself in the sexy sweetness of Amy’s kiss. He’d come within a hair’s breadth of dragging her into that pool and taking things beyond the point of no return.
Kissing Amy was fast becoming a dangerous addiction.
But it was madness.
He should never have started this. He should have been stronger, should have had the sense to remember Bella before he made a move on Amy.
He’d set out this morning with the best of intentions, but he’d lost his perspective at some point during the conversation about Rachel and his uncle. He’d kept the details of their story to himself for so long, and it had been damned difficult to talk about what had happened, but Amy had been so incredibly sympathetic, so understanding.
She really did understand. She’d experienced the same black hole of grief. She’d been living there, in that same painful, guilty place.
She knew.
He’d felt a soul-deep connection, and when he’d told her she was lovely, he hadn’t only been talking about her dark chocolate eyes, or her lovely smile, or her exceptionally lovely legs. Looking at Amy was a source of constant delight, but he couldn’t ignore her warmth and sympathy, or her courage for taking on the responsibility of Bella.
The fact that these qualities all came wrapped in such a sweet, sexy package was a miracle.
Amy had looked so right standing there beside the rock pool and he’d almost hoodwinked himself into thinking that she belonged there.
Fool.
He shouldn’t have started another kiss; should have been stronger. Amy hadn’t been flirting. Hell, if she’d been flirting, the kiss could have been excused. But she’d been deadly serious when she’d turned to him.
She’d been asking him to take a leap of faith.
And Seth had no faith.
He’d lost his faith years ago in hard and bitter lessons, and he knew damn well that no amount of loving could overcome the problems posed by this remote lifestyle.
All faith in such rosy dreams had been shattered by his mother, by Jennifer, and by what had happened when Rachel turned up…
Seth’s die had been cast then, just as Amy’s had. They had separate responsibilities now. He had no choice but to keep Serenity going. He owed it to his uncle to stay here, and Amy had no choice but to return to Melbourne and to raise Rachel’s daughter there, surrounded by family, schools, playgroups, ballet classes—everything a little girl needed.
He had no right to dally in kisses, or to toy with Amy’s emotions.
For the rest of her stay, he had to remember that. Her sweetness and softness were out of bounds.
Hell, he’d already kissed her twice.
Twice.
Two mistakes.
He couldn’t afford a third.
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