tell a girl he’s not cut out for marriage and wants his freedom,’ Natasha sneered, ‘than to admit he wants to be free to play around with other women!’ No need to tell her father that Tom had already found someone else before he’d broken off their engagement. She didn’t want Charlie to start feeling sorry for her all over again.
‘Well? Why did he stay for so long?’ she pressed. ‘What did you talk about?’ She wasn’t quite sure why she had to know.
‘Tom just wanted to have a look around the gallery, that’s all.’ Was Charlie avoiding her eye? He’d bowed his head over the frame he was working on and was frowning heavily, as if in concentration. ‘As a matter of fact, he bought a painting,’ he muttered, almost as an afterthought.
She blinked. So Tom had been serious about buying a painting. ‘Which painting?’ They didn’t only hang her own paintings in the gallery. They displayed the paintings of several promising young Brisbane artists as well. Some of them were very good, yet their prices were still reasonable. Far cheaper than her own.
‘One of yours.’ Her father didn’t look up. ‘The one of the cherry blossom trees in the Botanical Gardens.’
Her jaw dropped. Why on earth would Tom Scanlon want to buy that particular painting? They’d once strolled arm in arm through the Gardens, admiring the spring blossom. They’d even kissed under those very same trees! Why in the world would he want to be reminded of it? It had been hard enough for her to go back to the Gardens last spring and paint there!
The painting for sale in the gallery had been one of her smaller works, a delicate watercolour, priced more reasonably than her larger oil paintings. Perhaps it had been the only painting of hers within Tom’s means. But why buy one of her paintings at all?
Maybe because it was pretty, and he’d wanted a romantic coming-home gift for his lover back in Sydney. But would Tom be that insensitive—to give his girlfriend a sentimental painting done by his ex-fiancée?
If he’d told her he had an ex-fiancée.
Her brow darkened. Nothing Tom Scanlon did made sense any more. He was no longer the man she’d known…or thought she’d known. Not that she cared what he did any more, or why he did any of the things he did. He was out of her life now.
‘That’s all? He just wanted to buy a painting? You didn’t talk about anything else?’ Damn it, Natasha, you don’t care, so why ask?
Her father glanced up, his eyes bemused. ‘If you had any questions for him, Nat, you had your chance to ask him face to face. It’s not my business to ask him.’
‘No, of course not.’ Her chin lifted. ‘And don’t be silly, of course I don’t have any questions I’d want to ask Tom Scanlon! I couldn’t get rid of him quick enough—as you saw.’ She realised she was shaking, not just her hands, but her whole body. Just as well she wasn’t still trying to paint!
‘Nat—’ Charlie began, and seemed to hesitate. ‘The very fact that he came back to see you shows that he must still care about you…that he’s been thinking about you,’ he amended, as pained eyes flew to his. ‘He’s had his freedom…eighteen months of it. He most likely has it out of his system by now. If you still care about him yourself—’
‘I don’t!’ she cried, and bit her lip. ‘Dad, you don’t understand.’ She was calling him Dad again, a sign of growing distress. She folded her arms to hide her trembling hands. ‘He hurt me. I’m not going to let him hurt me again. I’m over him now and I don’t ever want to see him again.’
Her father gave her a long searching look. ‘Maybe I know you, Nat, better than you know yourself.’
‘Oh, yes?’ She glared at him indignantly But she could feel her lip wobbling.
‘I think you do care, deep down. And I think he still cares too. Time’s a great healer, Nat.’
‘Dad…’ She heaved a shuddering sigh. ‘Forget it. There’s not going to be a happy ending, so don’t start dreaming of one. It’s not going to happen. What we had once is dead and buried. He killed it. He—’ She flicked her tongue over her lips. She would have to tell him. It was the only way he’d understand. ‘He dumped me for someone else!’
It was out. Finally.
Her father’s head shot up. She flinched at the rush of sympathy in his eyes. But the anger she expected to see wasn’t there…the anger he should have been directing at Tom.
‘Nat…I know it must have hurt you. But some men get cold feet at the thought of marriage, and panic. Maybe Tom just wanted an excuse to get away for a while…to be on his own. Or maybe he just needed some breathing space, and took up with someone else on the rebound—and later came to regret it and realise he’d made a terrible mistake. And now he’s come back to find out if there’s any hope of a second chance.’
‘A second chance? Forget it!’ She shot her father a quick, probing frown. ‘Who says he regrets it?’ she cracked out. ‘Did he say anything about his—his girlfriend to you?’
‘No,’ Charlie admitted. ‘But why would he come all the way here to see you, Nat, and want to buy one of your paintings, if he’s still involved with someone else?’
‘Oh, Dad, you’re so naive. Because he feels guilty. Because his conscience is bothering him. He just wanted to check that I hadn’t fallen into a black hole, so that he could get on with his life without feeling guilty any more. Well, I showed him.’ She tossed her head. ‘I showed him I’m well and truly over him.’ A tremor shook through her. ‘But there was no way I was going to be all chummy and forgiving. I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.’
‘No…rightly so,’ Charlie murmured, examining the frame in his hand. ‘I’d better get on with this, Nat…I have to finish it before we leave tomorrow.’
She pursed her lips. He was taking Tom Scanlon’s treachery very lightly. Obviously, her father was prepared to forgive and forget…without even knowing if Tom was still tied up with the woman he’d run away with. It defied belief!
‘I’ve got things to finish this afternoon, too, and I’ve still got to pack,’ she growled. ‘I could have done without this interruption.’ She scowled, still hovering, despite herself. ‘Let’s forget he ever came. All right?’
‘Anything you say, love.’
She shot him a suspicious look. But Charlie’s face was bland. Disturbingly bland.
Well, he could hardly be planning to invite Tom back for a return visit. Tomorrow Charlie was taking her up north on a painting trip. Her first ever trip to Kakadu National Park. She’d agreed to hold an exhibition of her paintings in Sydney in the spring, with Kakadu as her subject.
Kakadu was way up north, near Darwin, at the Top End of Australia. She’d be safe up there. Safe from Tom Scanlon.
Perfectly safe.
CHAPTER TWO
WHEN she came into the kitchen the next morning to grab some coffee before the early morning flight to Darwin, Natasha found Aunt Edith, her father’s widowed sister, already there. Edith was going to stay in their flat and look after the gallery and framing business while they were
