Runaway Wife

He exchanged a droll look with her. “You’re not even warm.” Which was far from the truth. He had put out a book on his trip to Antarctica—but the photograph had been on the back cover, beard and all. “But I’ll guarantee to give progress reports.”

“Just a woman’s curiosity.” She settled in the rich burgundy armchair he had rolled out for her attention.

“And here I was thinking you a mere babe,” he gently mocked.

“I know.” It was true she didn’t carry her scars on her face, otherwise she would look awful.

He couldn’t help smiling at the picture she made, curled up in the oversized but very comfortable chair.

“But very bright. When you’re older and more sure of yourself you’ll be positively dangerous.” He turned to look around him. “We’ve walked all the aisles. What do you think?”

“The armchair, definitely,” she decided. “It’s very cosy. I liked the circular table you were looking at. Good wood. Is it red cedar?”

“It is. It’ll come up nicely.”

“You mean you’re going to work on it?” she asked, sliding her long hair back behind her ear.

“When I have the time. What else?”

“The most expensive thing will be the new bedroom suite,” she said. “We can use the cedar table for when I invite you in. I’m not fussed on the chairs. They’re too—functional. Clean lines.” Her smile was strained.

“You and the boyfriend got to discussing furnishings?” Instantly he picked up on her wavelength.

“How do you know I’m not married?” She looked straight at him, loving his attention and the dazzling complexity of it, but somehow hoping he would guess her secret.

“I don’t know,” he replied, studying her with his brilliant dark eyes. “You’d say, wouldn’t you? Then again I can’t remember when I last met a young woman who somehow struck me as being such an innocent abroad.”

“I’m not. Maybe I’m playing at a character.”

He didn’t speak for a few moments, considering what she’d just said. “I don’t think so. I think you’re a young woman who’s been cherished all your life and now you find yourself in a situation you can’t handle. Yet you’re someone who wants desperately to stand on your own two feet. You’re even prepared to take a risk to do it. Is the boyfriend someone who wants to dominate you?”

“Very much so.” She couldn’t keep the quiver out of her voice.

“Then it’s clear you can’t be happy together. Probably that’s why you’re comfortable with me. You are, aren’t you?”

She flushed. “Yes.”

He nodded. “You’re drawn to older men. No doubt because you deeply loved your father.”

“Yes, again. Isn’t it a mercy that as well as being comfortable—which you’re not, strictly—you’re charming, obliging, with a good sense of humour, and investigative enough to be interesting? Shall I go on? You shouldn’t be worried I’ll take advantage of your kindness. I half hope we’ll be friends?”

“Why half hope?” He lifted a quizzical brow.

“I can’t expect more.”

“You can as far as I’m concerned. The decision has been made. I’m big brother. You’re Laura next door. We’re well on our way towards becoming good friends. To put the whole thing simply, we’ve bonded. Both of us are living defensively and so forth. As for chairs—I have two at home that will do you nicely.”

“Did you make them?” She looked up at him with open delight.

“I did.”

“Then I’m honoured. I heard you don’t charge a lot either.”

“Laura they’re a house-warming present,” he said gently.

“Oh I can’t—” she started, broke off, overwhelmed by his kindness and generosity.

“Yes, you can. Now, there are a few other things you can have sent. That coffee table, for one. Cash cover it?” he asked in a laconic voice.

“It does, and I like it.”

“Those few little nicks can be ironed out. No problem at all to bring it back to its former glory. What about that coat-stand for the hall? I don’t think it will crowd it. I expect you’ll wear a lot of hats. You’ll need them to protect your skin. You won’t be needing a raincoat, however. I can’t even remember when it last rained. When do you think you will move in?”

A smile curved her lips. “If it can be organised, why not tomorrow?”

“I’m sure it can. I’ll be on hand to help out.”

“Why are you being so nice?” All at once her heart was beating fast. All wrong, in the circumstances.

“You’re a woman on your own, aren’t you?” he said reasonably. “I’m the kind of man who likes to lend a hand.”

“Then I’m very grateful.”

“Besides, I’ve had a good time.” He looked at her and gave that white melting smile that sat so piquantly with his dark, brooding good looks. “I was getting terribly dull. Terribly set in my ways.”

“I wonder how long it will be before you’re ever that.”

“Laura Graham, you scare me.” Before he could help himself he had touched her cheek lightly with his finger. It had the velvety texture of a magnolia.

For a moment they stared into one another’s eyes. Laura felt oddly as if the air might explode.

“Well, come on,” he said, making a brisk return to the role of big brother. “We really should visit the general store. You’ll be needing a few pots and pans, though you don’t look like you eat a whole lot.”

“Don’t go thinking I have eating problems,” she chided him.

“So why the feather weight?”

He spoke lightly, but she couldn’t help herself going tense. “I don’t know really. It’s not easy to eat sometimes.”

“When you’re unhappy and you’re sleeping badly?” His dark eyes rested on her for a second.

“I’m going to deal with it.”

“Good girl,” he said quietly.

Together they began to walk back along the aisle. Laura felt so drawn to him, but she had no doubts that before he’d come to Koomera Crossing he’d been someone very different. He’d lived a high-powered life, running on adrenaline. Perhaps even in personal danger.