'Right.' He scooped up his coffee-cup and drained it. 'Now I think I'd better get out of here before I do or say something further I might regret.'

Ava was offended but tried not to show it. 'I. . .1 have to get your painting for you. It's upstairs.'

'In that case I'll wait at the front door while you get it.'

'Oh. . . Very well. . . If you like. . .'

'I don't like but it's what I'm going to do.'

'Must you talk in riddles?'

'It's the fact that you think I'm talking in riddles that makes it a necessity.'

Ava threw her hands up in the air. 'You might as well be talking Greek.'

'Don't you mean Italian?'

For a second they glared at each other, till simultaneous laughter erupted from both of them.

'I don't know what I'm laughing at,' she managed at last, hugging herself.

'Neither do I,' he responded, a wry grin on his face. 'But does it matter? Life can't have too much laughter in it.'

Ava stared at him. G.o.d, no wonder she loved Italians. She'd never felt so alive as she did at this moment. Suddenly, she didn't care what her family thought next Friday night. To h.e.l.l with them all!

Not only that, it was slowly coming to Ava that next Friday might not be the end of things where Vince was concerned. Since she was going to become one of Giuseppe's students, and Vince was obviously a close friend of his, then she might see some more of him. Who knew? Maybe he'd also come back to mow her lawns if and when this Roger person was indisposed. Romance didn't figure in her thoughts -when it came to reality, Ava was a realist -but she would settle for anything where th is man was concerned. Absolutely anything!

'I'll go get that painting,' she tripped happily, and turned to hurry off, returning with it to find Vince already out on the porch, the front door open. 'Here it is,' she said; and handed it to him all rolled up. 'I finished it for you.'

He unrolled the canvas and stared at it silently for a few moments, before rerolling it and looking back up again. 'This is a most generous gift. I'll treasure it always. Now I must go, Ava. See you at eight next Friday night,' he said, then whirled to hurry down the steps, giving an oddly frowning look as he climbed in behind the wheel. The engine of the ancient utility shuddered into life and he was off, his sudden acceleration sending a spray of gravel out behind him.

Ava stared at the empty driveway long after the car had gone. Very slowly she turned and went inside, pressing the b.u.t.ton on the wall to close the gates. What had Vince been thinking when he'd frowned at her just now? Had he been comparing her to the other women r e d dated over the years? Was he going to be slightly ashamed to be seen with her? Did he regret offering to take her to Byron's party?

Maybe all three, she accepted bravely. But she refused to let it get her down. There were seven days before next Friday night. Seven days and seven nights. Surely some considerable improvement in her appearance could be accomplished in that time if she were determined and dedicated enough.

If Vince was generous enough to take her to Byron's party then she was going to make sure he was proud to be with her. With a bit of luck, at the same time, she might just be proud of herself!

CHAPTER TEN.

GEMMA and Nathan stood silently together, waiting for th e boarding announcement for the flight to Lightning Ridge. Outside the terminal a cool breeze was blowing, the sun not yet up. Inside, it was comfortably air- conditioned, but Gemma was experiencing her own inner chill. She'd never flown before and she was very nervous.

There's nothing to be nervous about,' Nathan surprised her by saying. She hadn't mentioned her nerves for fear of giving Nathan an excuse for her not to go at all. 'Driving's more dangerous than flying. Take a few deep breaths and try to relax your muscles and limbs.'

She did so and did, indeed, feel better. But her thoughts were still tense, returning to the semi-argument they'd had the night before and which remained unresolved in her mind. She must have made some sort of worried sound, for Nathan threw her an exasperated look and said, 'What's wrong now?'

'I just wish you'd told me about Byron's party tonight/ she said unhappily. 'If Jade hadn't dropped into the shop yesterday I'd never have known. I think she was put out that you hadn't told her I wouldn't be there.'

'Don't worry about Jade, Gemma,' came her husband's firm reply. 'She'll survive. I wasn't going to let you put off your trip for the sake of a last-minute idea of Jade's. Byron doesn't even want a party and he fully understands why you won't be there. I explained the situation.'

Gemma suppressed a sigh. When was Nathan going to realise that she had the right to make her own decisions about things like this? But no. . .he kept keeping things from her because he still thought he knew best. Perhaps that was one of the main reasons she was going to Lightning Ridge to make her own enquiries about her background, because underneath she was afraid Nathan knew something, and was keeping it from her.

Yet now that the moment was at hand she wondered what on earth she thought she was going to achieve. Her a.s.sertion that Lightning Ridge people would talk to her more openly than a city detective might be true, if there was anyone who knew something in the first place. Ma didn't, and she'd been her neighbour for years. The only possible person Gemma could think of was old Mr Gunther, and he was as close-mouthed as a clam.

'I'm probably wasting my time, anyway,' she muttered dispiritedly.

'I think so,' Nathan agreed. 'But hopefully it we'll get this obsession about your mother out of your system once and for all.'

Gemma automatically bristled, but said nothing this time for fear of another argument. Really, Nathan had been surprisingly good about this trip. She'd expected him to object, to find a million reasons why she couldn't fly off on her own. Even this morning, she'd been half expecting him to announce at the last minute that he would come with her, party or no party. But he hadn't and for that she was grateful. She could do with a few days On her own, away from him.

She'd been under a lot of stress since the day she'd run into Damian Campbell. Much as she'd tried to be patient with Nathan -as Ava had suggested - the various claims Damian had made abou t him kept gnawing away inside her. She longed to

But she knew he was never going to do that. Not voluntarily. He was going to keep doing what he'd always done, pretending he was a perfectly well- adjusted man with no dark secrets, using that cool facade of his to hide all the h.e.l.l that had to be buried deep inside. She'd glimpsed that h.e.l.l occasionally, especially in moments when his emotional guard was down, as it was when he was furious with her, or s.e.xually frustrated. Then, the devils would be momentarily unleashed from his soul, making him a volatile yet at the same time touchingly vulnerable human being.

Gemma frowned at this last thought. Maybe that was what she'd been doing subconsciously of late, trying to make Nathan angry so that he would explode into that more vulnerable being. Instead, he'd been remarkably tolerant of her behaviour, either ignoring her inflammatory remarks or just not reacting to situations that would normally have annoyed him. In a way, this uncharacteristic tolerance was beginning to bother Gemma, especially when it came to Nathan's response to her avoiding s.e.x lately. The Nathan of a couple of weeks ago certainly wouldn't have mildly accepted her excuses and walked away. He would have forced the issue. Didn't he want her any more? Was that it? Or was he using some sort of reverse psychology?

'Are you sure that old lady friend will be there at the airport to meet you?' Nathan asked, breaking into her muddled thoughts. His worried tone was so much like the old overprotective Nathan she knew and loved that Gemma smiled a type of relief at him.

'Yes, of course she will. Ma's very reliable. Gosh, it'll be so good to see her again. Good to see the old home town again too.'

Nathan gave her an incredulous look. 'Surely you haven't been homesick for Lightning Ridge, and that awful dugout you used to live in!'

'Hardly, but it'll be nice to go back, visit old places.'

'You do realise it will be very hot compared to Sydney? You haven't taken all winter clothes, have you?'

Gemma laughed. 'Nathan, what an old fusspot you can be sometimes. Do you think I didn't think of that? I've been looking after myself for years, you know.'

'In a fashion,' he conceded, though grudgingly, which brought an exasperated sigh from Gemma.

'Now don't take offence, darling,' he drawled, sliding his arms around her waist and drawing her close, 'I enjoy fussing over you, just as I enjoy buying you things. Both are my way of showing you how much I love you. All I want is for you to be happy, Gemma. Always remember that. . .' His head dipped to sip softly at her lips.

It had been so long since Nathan had kissed her like this, so softly and tenderly, that Gemma was startled by her immediate and very fierce response. An electrical current raced through her veins, accompanied by a charge of emotion that brought home to Gemma that her own feelings for Nathan would never change. She loved him. She would always love him, no matter what.

Her arms snaked around his neck, her fingers splaying up into his hair, her tounguetip darting past her softly parting lips to contact his lips in an inviting and seductive gesture. Nathan groaned and swept her hard against him, deepening the kiss so that soon they were swirling away in a whirlpool of pa.s.sion that made them both oblivious of where they were.

Till the words 'Lightning Ridge' spoken over the intercom filtered through to Gemma's brain.

She reefed out of Nathan's torrid embrace, her face hot, her head still spinning, 'I. . .1 have to go,' she choked out breathlessly.

'No, you don't,' he ground back. 'You can stay with me. Forget Lightning Ridge! We'll drive up to Avoca, spend the next four days alone together at the beach- house, have a second honeymoon.'

'I can't, Nathan,' she said, shaken by how much she was tempted. 'Ma's waiting for me. And what about your rehearsals for the play, not to mention Byron's birthday party tonight?'

'To h.e.l.l with the play, and to h.e.l.l with Byron's birthday party!'

She laid a quivering hand against his frustrated face. 'You don't mean that. . .'

He dragged in then expelled a shuddering sigh. 'No, I suppose not. Go, then. Leave me to my misery and loneliness.'

Her laughter was low but full of satisfaction. Nathan did love her. They were going to be all right.

'When I get back we'll plan a weekend away together,' she promised. 'Meanwhile, why don't you throw yourself back into some writing over the weekend? Drag out that play you put aside.'

'Yes. . .yes, I might do that.'

'I must go, Nathan. . . I love you. . .'

'And I love you too, darling. See you Monday.' He waved as she moved off through the gate with the small line of people.

She waved back once, then walked on, her spirits low. Monday was four days away. Four lonely days.

G.o.d, I don't want to go!

The sudden impulse to run back was so strong she halted and glanced back over her shoulder.

But Nathan wasn't there. He'd already left. With a resigned sigh, she kept on going.

Ava was a nervous wreck by the time Friday evening came. She had never felt so excited about something in all her life, yet at the same time agitated.

A brutal inspection in the dressing-room mirror that morning had confirmed she hadn't worked wonders over the previous week. She'd worked a darned miracle!

Ava had resisted looking at herself too closely all week, though she'd noticed her face getting thinner, and had sensed a great change beneath her increasingly baggy clothes. But the full-length mirror revealing that literally pounds had dropped away in some places and she actually h ad a shape! Of course she'd almost killed herself with working out, and she'd been ruthless in her eating habits, sticking to fresh fruit, grilled meat, steamed vegetables and high-fibre breads with no added margarine.

Nothing sweet had pa.s.sed her lips. Every time she had a craving -which was often -she would mentally picture Vince arrivin g to pick her up for the party, and the craving would be resisted. A man was great motivation, she'd found. At least. . .-a man like Vince was.

Ava had left the buying of an outfit till the Friday morning, not going to her boutique for biggies this time, but an ordinary boutique which also had a wide range of lingerie. She still wasn't model material -not by a long shot -but with the aid of a figure-shaping corset in str etch cream satin, she looked very well in a deep coral suit whose semi-fitted jacket and slimline skirt made the most of her still buxom figure. The jacket had a low, heart-shaped neckline which showed quite a bit of cleavage, and when Ava had said she would fill it up with a necklace the sales a.s.sistant had shaken her head in disapproval.

'Why distract from your best a.s.set?' the girl floored Ava by complimenting. 'If you've got it, flaunt it!'

Ava had left the shop in a state of elation, her next port of call being her hairdresser, who had oohed and aahed, not just over the clothes, but over her client's much slimmer figure. She'd a.s.sumed Ava had been to an expensive health farm, expressing wide-eyed admiration When Ava said she'd done it all by herself at home.

Ava had returned from her shopping and hairdressing expedition with her confidence high but her bank balance in the red. If she kept this up she would definitely have to sell some of Irene's jewellery to make ends meet. After all, none of her clothes fitted her very well any more. In another week or two, she would have to buy a whole new wardrobe. What an exciting thought!

Her happiness, however, was replaced by apprehension as the time to get ready approached. In deference to her nerves, she started early. Unfortunately, her agitated state tended to make her quicker -or maybe she moved faster these days. Whatever, by seven-thirty she was putting in her gold drop earrings and slipping her feet into a pair of strappy gold sandals which hadn't seen the light of day for years but which had never gone out of fashion.

Nevertheless, they were quite high, and Ava figured she could use her spare half-hour getting used to them. What else was there to do? Byron's birthday gift was wrapped, his card written on. There was no one in the house to talk to or show off to - Cook had been given the night o ff and Byron, as expected, hadn't come home after work, choosing to go straight to Catherine's.

Ava made sure the gates were open then spent the time walking carefully around the house, practising being elegant and smiling fatuously at herself where- ever she could see her reflection. G.o.d, but she did look good! She still couldn't believe it.

What would Vince say? she wondered breathlessly. Would he be surprised? Pleased? Or wouldn't he even notice the change?

Byron hadn't all week. There again, she did go round the house in sloppy clothes, so she couldn't really blame him. He should see some difference tonight, though. So should every other member of her family.

What would they say? Maybe they'd be too busy gawking at Vince to really notice the difference in her.

She wondered what Vince would wear. Having never seen him in anything other than jeans, she was rather looking forward to seeing what he looked like dressed more formally. Still, he would look fantastic in anything.

Her feelings of excited antic.i.p.ation grew with each pa.s.sing second, her eyes constantly returning to one of the many clocks around the house. But clocks were like watched pots, Ava found out that evening. They never seemed to get a move on. Every time she checked the' grandfather clock in the hall, the hands had hardly moved. She paced up and down, up and down, till she was so darned competent in those high heels she could have done the tango across the marble foyer and not missed her footing once.

The doorbell ringing out of the blue almost gave Ava a heart attack. The moment was at hand at last. Dear G.o.d, please let him like how I look. Please don't let him say anything critical. And please, stop me from shaking!

Ava soon realised that all her shaking was inside, for she managed to make it to the door and open it with surprising panache. Vince's back was to her at first. He must have turned to admire the front gardens, which looked-'spectacular at night when the lights marking out the circular driveway were on, as they were at that moment. The pond in the centre looked especially enchanting, with its water lilies beginning to bud.

'You're right on time,' she said, her polite smile freezing on her lips when Vince turned, something happening inside her chest when he looked straight at her. It felt like a vice had suddenly been clamped around her heart. She gulped and dropped her eyes from that too handsome face and those too beautiful brown eyes.

His clothes, she noted after a couple of blank seconds, could have been put together from the pages of a style magazine for men. Tailored beige trousers covered his long muscular legs, a tan leather belt marking out his trim hips. A smart cream linen sports jacket made his broad shoulders look broader, underneath which lay a dark brown shirt in a very s.e.xy silky material. The two top b.u.t.tons were undone and Ava's eyes were irrevocably drawn to the smattering of golden curls at the centre of that well-remembered bronzed chest.

In jeans, Vince had been a handsome hunk. In these clothes he was something different entirely, suave and sophisticated, with a more subtle s.e.xy appeal which still evoked in Ava yearnings impossible to control. She tried to stop her eyes from filling with raw hunger as she looked him over but she was doomed to failure. Her only consolation was that he seemed too busy, staring at her to notice her appallingly revealing inspection. Wa s that admiration in his eyes, or exasperation?

'My G.o.d, Ava, what have you been doing to yourself?' he exclaimed at last.

'Doing?' she repeated. My G.o.d, her heart was pounding so hard she was sure she was going to faint. Thank the lord she was holding on to the side of the doorway. 'What. . .what do you mean?'

'You know d.a.m.ned well what I mean, woman. You've either been on one of those fool crash diets or you've been deceiving me all along by wearing clothes a couple of sizes too big.'

'Oh. . .oh, you mean my weight loss,' she returned, her inner agitation increasing. Why was he angry with her? 'Well, actually, I -er -haven't been on a diet at all. I've been working out.'

'Working out?' he repeated, still scowling.

'Yes. You know. Sit-ups and things.'

'Sit-ups and things?'

Vince's att.i.tude finally got to Ava, her inner agitation suddenly bursting forth into open frustration. 'Truly, Vince, must you repeat everything I say?' she exclaimed irritably. 'And why sound so puzzled? I'm sure you know what sit-ups are. What's the matter? Don't you like the way I look?'

His narrowed gaze raked over her from head to toe again before he gave a dismissive shrug. 'What's not to like? You look gorgeous and you know it.'

Ava was taken aback. What an odd way to give a compliment! It was not at all what she had hoped for. Nothing he had said since she had opened the door was what she had hoped for.

'Gee whiz, thanks,' she said, her voice sharp with hurt and disappointment. 'You scrub up pretty well yourself. Amazing what the right clothes can do, isn't it?'

Vince c.o.c.ked his head on one side, his thoughtful expression slowly being replaced by a rueful smile. 'Amazing what the loss of a few pounds can do to a woman's personality. I hope you're not going to turn into one of those rich b.i.t.c.hes, Ava. If you are, then I suggest you turn back the clock. I much prefer the woman I first met.'

Ava was so startled by this remark that she just stood there, her thoughts whirling. How could he possibly have preferred that blimp?

'Tell me, Ava,' he went on with a quiet ruthlessness, 'is there anything you should tell me about this party tonight? I have an awful feeling there's some hidden agenda I don't know about.'

Ava frowned her confusion. 'Why on earth would you say that?'

'I'm not sure. But you must have had a mighty powerful reason for the agony you've obviously put yourself through this past week.'

Ava stared straight into Vince's eyes and battled hard to keep her composure. Oh, Vince. . . Don't you know? Can't you see? I love you. I wanted you to be proud to be with me. . .