‘Where we go from here has nothing to do with my uncle,’ he said at last, feeling his way with care. ‘He doesn’t control us. Last night...this...it felt...it feels like something we both want, not something he orchestrated. Is that right? You don’t feel coerced?’

  ‘Um...no,’ she conceded, and he even heard the trace of a smile in her voice. ‘Or, if I’m honest, maybe I even did the coercing.’

  ‘Mutual coercing,’ he said and grinned, and he felt himself relax a little. ‘And that’s the way it needs to be. Checking along the way to see if we’re pushing boundaries. Honestly, one day I might want kids.’ Did he? He’d never imagined himself with children. Why was he thinking of them now? ‘But that’s a whole future consideration,’ he said hastily. ‘With you or someone else. That’s not part of our deal.’

  ‘It had better not be.’

  He frowned then and it was his turn to prop himself on one elbow and look down at her. The tone of her voice... ‘Jodie, what is there in that to make you afraid? As if you think somehow I could persuade...’

  ‘You couldn’t.’

  ‘I know I couldn’t.’ He didn’t get this. Here was a vibrant, strong woman, accepting this situation on her own terms, and yet reacting with what seemed like panic. ‘Jodie, is it the idea of kids that makes you frightened?’

  ‘I’m not frightened.’

  ‘Maybe that’s the wrong word.’ He was looking into her eyes and he was still sensing panic. ‘But you’re alone, and you seem always to be alone. I’ve asked you before... Has some guy hurt you in the past? Some lowlife?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘Leave it, Seb,’ she said. ‘My past is my business. If we were really married...’

  ‘Even then I wouldn’t push.’

  ‘Good.’ She closed her eyes for a moment—and when she opened them he saw the fear had been replaced by determination.

  ‘Okay, moving on.’ She rolled sideways and rose, standing for a moment, naked, beautiful, smiling down at him with a wry smile. He noticed a scratch running down the back of her leg but before he could say anything she’d grabbed a robe. ‘Enough of the intense discussion, Seb. I’m hungry. Toast and coffee?’

  ‘Let me make them.’

  ‘Nope.’ She shook her head, her lovely hair swinging out behind her. ‘I need a shower and then I need toast and Vegemite and time sitting on the porch saying good morning to the morning. Separate breakfasts, Dr Cantrell. Separate lives.’

  ‘So what about tonight?’

  Dear heaven, she was beautiful. Breathtaking. It was all he could do not to reach out for her again.

  ‘We’ll let tonight take care of itself,’ she said, her serene and confident façade in place again. ‘But what happens under bedclothes stays between bedclothes. Our real lives are different.’

  Did that mean...? There was a leap of hope.

  But she was backing away, still smiling. ‘I might or might not invite you to my bed again,’ she said. ‘Okay, based on last night’s performance, the likelihood of it happening is pretty strong. But that’s it.’

  ‘And if I invite you to mine?’

  ‘Every invite will be considered on its merits,’ she said demurely, and then she grinned, once again a woman in charge of her world. ‘There are no promises, Seb Cantrell, but I don’t see why parts of your Uncle Arthur’s crazy last will and testament shouldn’t turn out to be...fun.’

  * * *

  She showered, standing under cold water, closing her eyes, blocking the noise of the last twenty-four hours from her mind, deliberately putting her mind into neutral. But neutral refused to happen.

  She tugged on shorts and T-shirt, she carried her toast and coffee outside, sat on the front steps and considered her day, acutely aware that Seb was still in the cottage behind her.

  Still in her bed?

  What had just happened?

  So much for separate living, she thought ruefully. It would have been fine if her new husband wasn’t so gorgeous. If he wasn’t so sexy.

  If he hadn’t made her feel like the most desirable woman he’d ever held.

  Maybe he did that with all his women, she thought. With all his wives? The idea made her smile a little, but there was trouble behind the smile.

  She hadn’t meant this to happen, and to feel like this on the day after her mock wedding... It went against everything she’d ever promised herself.

  And kids...

  Where had that discussion come from? Why had they even talked about it?

  Because she’d brought it up, she conceded, and once aired it had hung. A possibility.

  Not a possibility. Oh, the pain...

  She was playing with fire here, opening herself up to hurt, betrayal...

  She was doing no such thing. She was still in control, she told herself fiercely. She could still call the shots.

  But should calling the shots mean allowing Seb to keep holding her as he’d held her last night? Could it mean allowing herself to love him back?

  Love? Where had that word come from? She’d meant hold. But even hold... To continue to hold him... It really was playing with fire.

  But how could she not? The feel of him, the taste, the touch... The way her body responded to his. The feeling that...here was her home.

  Well, that was crazy, she told herself angrily. She was a loner and she intended staying that way.

  But, as if on cue, the screen door opened and banged shut again. Seb came out, carrying coffee. The veranda steps were wide and he sat just about as far away from her as he could—but he was still sitting on her step.

  Go away. That was what she wanted to say, but she couldn’t quite form the words. Which was just as well, she told herself. It’d be petty. What was more, it’d smack of fear—and who was afraid?

  Why on earth should she be afraid?

  And then a car pulled into the drive and Angus and Misty and the kids piled out, smiling and laughing. Their little boy was still wearing his Space Stars costume from the wedding. Forrest had been one of the leading kids in the pageboy procession. There’d probably be island kids wearing crazy costumes for months.

  ‘Good morning,’ Misty called, at eight months pregnant struggling to get out of the car. ‘Congratulations, newlyweds. We have your gift.’

  ‘Our gift?’ Jodie rose, feeling thoroughly discombobulated. This scene was far too domestic. Too...close? And then she forgot about being discombobulated—or maybe discombobulation went up a notch, because Forrest was reaching back into the car and lifting out...a puppy.

  ‘So how was the wedding night?’ Angus, the island’s senior doctor, was grinning broadly as he looked at the two of them. ‘You want to tell us about it?’ And then he shook his head. ‘Okay, don’t answer that, we don’t want to know.’

  ‘Yes, we do,’ his wife retorted. ‘Any details you want to share, Jodie, love, we’re all ears.’

  ‘In front of the children?’ Angus grinned as he tried to frown her down, but by then all attention was on the puppy.

  He—she?—was beautiful. Adorable. Chocolate-box cute.

  A golden retriever? Maybe not, because there was a hint of something else, maybe a collie? The island wasn’t known for pedigree dogs. Regardless, the pup was fluffy and golden, with huge brown eyes that were gazing out at the world with awe, and a tail that was rotating like a helicopter blade. Forrest was struggling to contain the bundle of wriggling excitement.

  ‘Seb, this is Forrest,’ Jodie said, introducing Seb to the kid holding the pup. She added, very, very cautiously, ‘And who’s this? I didn’t know you guys were getting a puppy.’

  ‘We’re not,’ Forrest said happily. ‘This is yours.’

  ‘Ours?’ Why did something inside her feel as if it was freezing?

  But Misty’s smile was pure mischief. ‘I know, you don’t want commitment, but this is our wedding gift.’ Then, as Jodie stared in stunned silence, she continued, almost as if this was no big deal, ‘Well, we had to give you something. Our best friend and colleague getting married is a really big deal. When we got our Biggles you said you still didn’t know how long you were staying, and you couldn’t commit to a puppy. That meant you missed out on Biggles’s sister or brother, which made us sad because we know how much you love him. Every time you come to our place, he’s all over you. But now...’

  She paused, grinning, looking from Jodie to Seb and back again. ‘Well, you’ve told us the terms of your marriage. We understand it’s a fixed term contract. We get it.’ There was another pause then, while she seemed to focus attention on Seb’s hand—still on Jodie’s arm—but she forged on. ‘So okay, it’s only for two years, but why should you miss out on so much because your time’s limited? We think Biggles and Freya...this is Freya, by the way...are bound to get on. Therefore...’

  She paused again, as if gathering her words, but then continued on a note of triumph, ‘So, at the end of two years, if you really both decide to walk away, if you haven’t fallen in love—with Freya, I mean,’ she added hastily, ‘no pressure on you two, then we’ll take her back. But she’s from a Craig McConachie litter, which means there’s a queue if you really don’t want her. So, say so now and we’ll give you, I don’t know, a frying pan or a set of towels instead.’ She paused and looked hopefully from Jodie to Seb and then back again. ‘So, what do you say?’

  A dog. Commitment. Emotion. No. Her heart screamed it. No!

  But Seb had dropped her arm and was already moving forward. Forrest lifted the pup to meet him and Seb gathered the pup into his arms. And as he cradled the fluffy golden package Jodie felt...lost.

  What had Misty said? ‘If you haven’t fallen in love...’

  She’d meant with the dog.

  She didn’t do love. She didn’t love...anything.

  But Seb was holding the pup—Freya. Freya was trying her best to lick every part of Seb’s face she could possibly reach, and Jodie’s friends were laughing and the look on Seb’s face...

  He was standing in the early morning sunlight, wearing faded jeans and T-shirt and nothing else. His dark hair was wet from the shower, his feet were bare, he stood wrangling his armful of ecstatic pup—and his face said... Love?

  And with a moment’s flash of intuition, she knew this was the perfect gift. She knew he’d fallen in love.

  How could he fall like this? How could he?

  Why could she not?

  Because...

  ‘You’re not allergic, are you?’ It was Forrest, nine years old and obviously worried about the way she was reacting. ‘Miriam at school is allergic. She wanted a dog and she had to get a poodle.’

  ‘She can’t be allergic,’ Misty told him. ‘Have you seen the way she cuddles Biggles, and Biggles is an allergenic dog. Very allergenic,’ she added darkly. ‘You should see our sofa.’

  ‘But do you want her?’ Forrest asked, still looking worried.

  And then, suddenly, all eyes were on her.

  Everyone present knew that Seb was sold. He was still holding the pup, still trying to calm her down, but now he was watching her as well, his dark eyes questioning.

  ‘Jodie, if you don’t want her...’ he said, suddenly talking only to her. ‘She’ll be a lot of work, Jodie, love, and I’ll be in Brisbane three days a week. I think it needs to be up to you.’

  And he got it, she thought. It was unspoken but it was in his voice, in his look. There was an understanding...

  Or maybe not an understanding. He didn’t know—how could he—the pain that was always in her heart. None of these people knew the pain of loss.

  This was a dog. Not a child. A dog!

  Why did it feel so terrifying? As if she was facing a chasm and if she took one step forward...

  And he’d called her ‘Jodie, love’...

  ‘Jodie?’ Seb asked gently. He stepped towards her, still carrying the pup. For a moment she thought he was going to put it into her arms and she took an instinctive step back.

  Everyone else was silent, not understanding but somehow...surely sensing how big a deal this was.

  And then Seb put the pup down. ‘Jodie, I won’t do anything you don’t want,’ he reiterated. ‘None of us will. I would love the pup—I can’t disguise it. If at the end of two years you don’t want her to stay here, then she can come with me back to the mainland. I think... Well, for some reason, things seem to be changing for me, all sorts of things, and maybe I need to make room for...other things in my life. And it seems Freya is one of them. So, once again, no commitment after two years, but if you want her for now...’

  ‘I’ll fall for her,’ she whispered.

  ‘I already have,’ Seb said, speaking to her only. ‘It’s a leap into the unknown, but what’s life if not a succession of leaps?’

  And...he got it, she thought. He understood her fear.

  How?

  There was no way of knowing. All she knew was that she had a choice: back away...or leap.

  And the pup was sniffing and waddling forward, finding her bare toes, giving them an investigative lick. Then she looked up, her big eyes seeming to implore, her tail wagging with hope.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, what was there to fear in one pup? What?

  And while her friends watched on, while Seb smiled his smile, questioning but somehow understanding, finally, she reached down and scooped her up.

  And as her arms closed on the warm, wriggling mass she thought—Why does this seem more real—why does this seem more terrifying—than the vows I made last night?

  * * *

  The feeling he’d had when he’d lifted the pup into his arms was almost indescribable.

  All his life he’d been a loner. He’d been loved, though—of course he had—but... His parents had been passionate about their work, so passionate that his arrival had been a mistake. Once his mother had even said, ‘We couldn’t justify bringing someone else into the world when there’s so much to be done.’

  Once he was there though, they’d loved him to the best of their ability, but he’d had to fit into their world. He was minded by others as they’d worked. As he’d grown into someone who could be useful he’d been trained to help, but he’d been sent back to Australia to boarding school as soon as his health had interfered with their work.

  For his parents, the idea of stopping, of spending time, what, smelling the roses, was anathema to them. As was the thought of doing something so useless as owning a dog.

  Or loving a woman who couldn’t advance his work?

  Where had that thought come from? But it was there as he watched Jodie lift the puppy into her arms, as he watched the fear on her face, as he watched her expression almost crumple as Freya’s wriggles seemed to transform into ecstasy.

  This woman...

  He didn’t know her. She was a woman his parents would have castigated as wasting her time, not using her talents, not committing herself to the greater good. Part-time medicine. Surfing. Lying in the sun and almost aggressively batting away connection.

  But there were reasons. He knew it.

  He thought of the night that had just gone, the passion, the fierceness of her lovemaking. The aching desire...

  What was driving her? What?

  He had two years to find out.

  What was he thinking? Of making this...permanent?

  Why not? If he could persuade her to commit to his passions? If he could persuade her to care?

  To care for him—or to care for the whole world?

  Maybe she couldn’t do one without the other. But if she was onside... He had a sudden flash of his parents, facing down obstacle after obstacle, fighting together for what they both believed in. With Jodie by his side...

  It was too soon. Somehow, he’d need to expose the shadows in her past, somehow get past the rigid control that seemed to be holding her in thrall.

  To make her part of his world?

  It was far too soon, he told himself firmly, but as he watched her hold the pup—were there tears tracking down her face?—he thought, Why not?

  And then he thought of all those Christmases past, gifts given and then taken away.

  Was this something that would be taken away? Were his fears somehow shared by Jodie?

  He didn’t understand, but this pup was theirs, he thought. It was a shared gift, and maybe together they could fight for it. Even when this time on the island was over, they could surely fit a dog into a life of doing good. Maybe there was some way this could work.

  His conscience needn’t even bother him. These two years were set aside to build for the future.

  And in two years, maybe he might even persuade Jodie to be part of that future.

  CHAPTER TEN

  HE WORKED TOO HARD.

  They’d been married for three months and in all that time she’d persuaded him to take three whole days off.

  One had been for Isabelle Grundy’s funeral—an all-island affair, seeing the old lady out in style. One had been when Misty and Angus had introduced their newest addition to the island, a tiny girl named Alice. That had involved a naming ceremony and then a party—music, laughter and far too much food.

  In the face of such joy, Seb and Jodie had danced into the night, inhibitions, cares forgotten, but that had led to the third day off. Seb’s stomach had cramped during the night, he’d woken whey-faced, and Jodie had almost had to barricade him into the room to keep him in bed.

  He wasn’t well. There was nothing specific, but living in the same house with him, sharing meals, sensing his slight withdrawal and the way his face sometimes seemed to close... If he was her patient, she’d have packed him off to Brisbane to see a specialist physician, but he wasn’t her patient.

 

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