'I thought that was Zachary Marsden's job,' Gemma said tartly.

'Now, Gemma, don't be catty. The poor woman was lonely.'

So am I, she longed to say. Instead, she bit her tongue and tried to be charitable. 'Yes, I suppose so,' she sighed. 'I do wish you were here with me, Nathan. Do you realise I'm staying in the same motel room we met in? It has this big bed in it. Much too big for one. . .'

'G.o.d, Gemma, don't do this to me. Come home, darling. Tomorrow.'

Her heart started to beat faster, which was crazy since he was hundreds of miles away. 'I wish I could,' she groaned. 'But I can't. There's no flight over the weekend.'

'd.a.m.n.'

She laughed in an effort to break the tension he was engendering within her. 'You'll just have to write over the weekend, won't you?'

'b.i.t.c.h,' he said, but softly. . .seductively. . .

Gemma swallowed. 'I think I'd better talk to Byron. You're getting me all hot and bothered.'

'He's busy.'

'Doing what?'

'Dancing with Catherine.'

'Oh?' She'd heard he had a new girlfriend, but not much about her. 'What's she like?'

'Good-looking. Rich. s.e.xy.'

'I hate her.'

'You're not the only one.'

'What does that mean?'

'I'll tell you when you get home.'

'Na-than!'

'Curiosity kills the cat. Promised information brings her back.'

'You're a conniving manipulative devil.'

'Of course. Is there any other way with you?'

She lay down with the phone at her ear, feeling part dazed and awfully aroused. 'I'll ring you tomorrow,' she promised breathlessly.

'Don't.'

His sharp tone made her sit up. 'Why not?*

'I'll be writing.'

'G.o.d! Why did I ever suggest such a stupid thing?'

'I have no idea. Why did you? I know you hate it when I write.'

She sighed. 'I guess I wanted to keep you busy. You're far too good-looking to be left on your own for the whole weekend.'

He laughed. 'And what about you?'

'If you'd seen some of the men I spent this afternoon with I don't think you'd worry, whereas you're down there with a whole roomful of beautiful s.e.xy women.'

'The only beautiful s.e.xy woman I want is you, Gemma.'

She hugged the fierce emotion of his words to her heart. 'Oh, Nathan, I do so love you. . .'

'Enough to have my baby yet?'

Gemma's heart lurched then filled to overflowing. 'I'll stop taking my pills immediately,' she promised faithfully. Lord, how could she have ever thought he didn't love her, that his feelings encompa.s.sed nothing but l.u.s.t?

That would make me very happy,' he said with something like relief in his voice. 'I'll be waiting at the airport for you on Monday, darling. Don't miss your flight/ 'Wild horses wouldn't stop me getting on it.'

'Bye. Be good.'

'You too.'

Gemma had hung up before she realised she hadn't told Nathan about what that miner had suggested. She shrugged. It would wait till Monday. A lot better than she would.

Still, her heart was at peace as she snapped off the lamp and lay back down. A baby, she started thinking, a soft smile pulling at her mouth in the darkness.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

AVA woke to sunshine streaming through the gla.s.s doors and on to the bed. For a few minutes she lay there, wondering what it would be like to wake up every morning like this, with Vince by her side and a feeling of utter peace coursing through her veins. Closing her eyes, she smiled her pleasure at such a scenario.

But that's just a fantasy, the new Ava reminded herself ruthlessly. Just a dream. Vince doesn't want anything more than what we shared together last night.

Sighing her resignation to the bittersweet reality of their relationship, Ava slipped out of the bed to make an essential visit to the connecting bathroom. On her return, she began picking up their clothes from where they were scattered on the floor, slipping Vince 's brown silk shirt over her nakedness in lieu of a robe and placing the rest in a neat pile on the foot of the bed. '

With a loving glance at Vince's still sleeping form, she padded out into the kitchen, which was quite finished and very well equipped, even to having food essentials in the cupboards. Five minutes later she was standing at the large plate-gla.s.s window in the main living area, sipping black coffee from a mug while she admired the panorama before her eyes. Sydney harbour had never looked so beautiful, she thought. Nor the sun so bright. Nor the sky so blue.

Was it perhaps that everything would look sharper to her from now on? Had the experience of love honed her senses to a level of sensitivity that she had previously dulled with her dreamlike fantasies? Ava knew she would settle for a few nights with Vince rather than a lifetime of such fantasies. Even the memory of the pleasure he had already given her was enough to set her nerves a-tingle and her heart racing.

Luckily, Ava glimpsed Vince's reflection in the gla.s.s as he approached or when he put his arms around her she might have spilt her coffee. As it was, she gave a small shudder as he pulled her back against his splendidly naked body.

'Your wearing my shirt does things to me that are positively indecent,' he whispered, slipping his hands underneath it.

'Vince, I'm going to spill this coffee,' she warned shakily.

'Put it down and come into the shower with me.'

'The shower?'

'Uh-huh. I'm afraid we'll have to be leaving soon. It's nearly ten and I'm due home for a family gathering today. Since I have to take you back to Belleview first, we'll have to shake a leg.'

Ava thought she hid her disappointment quite well, having hoped they might spend the day together. The prospect of Vince dropping her off with an 'I'll call you some time' farewell sent her heart plummeting to the ground. 'I - er -don't think having a shower together's a very good idea.'

'Why not?'

'You don't behave in showers.'

'I promise not to lay a single hand on you.'

She gasped as his roving hands became very intimate.

'And what do you think you are doing at the moment?' she asked tautly.

'I said I wouldn't lay a single hand, not two hands.'

'Oh. G.o.d. . .stop it, Vince. . .'

'Are you coming into the shower with me or not?'

She groaned. 'You're wicked.'

'Tell me something new.'

It was ten-thirty before they were dressed and ready to leave, Ava feeling somewhat alarmed at how quickly depression could follow physical ecstasy. Was this all she had to look forward to in future, see-sawing emotions plus an inability to control her own body?

'You're very quiet,' Vince commented on the way down in the lift.

'Oh?' Her swift smile had a decided edge to it. "Maybe I'm exhausted.'

'In that case you won't want to go out with me tonight. . .'

Ava hated herself for the obvious joy that must have lit her face, till she became resigned to the fact that this was what being in love could be like. It could hurt like h.e.l.l, but it could also be incredibly wonderful.

'You know I would,' she said eagerly, not bothering to think that she was being far too accommodating, as usual. Still, Vince seemed to like her that way. He was certainly looking at her with amused affection in his eyes.

'Where would you like to go?' he asked indulgently.

'You choose. I don't care.'

'In that case I'll take you out to dinner, then a movie, then back here for the night.'

Ava's eyes blinked wide. G.o.d, whatever would she tell Byron?

'Does that present a problem?'

'No, she said, bolstering herself up with the thought that she was a grown-up woman of thirty. Why should she have to answer to her brother? 'No problem at all.'

They chatted together all the way back' to Belleview, about all sorts of things. Ava had never thought of herself as a good conversationalist, but with Vince the words seemed just to flow. Neither did she ever feel that what she said was stupid, perhaps because he was a good listener, as well as an incorrigible flatterer.

'I can't get over how many movies you've seen,' he said at one set of lights, 'or how knowledgeable you are about them.'

Ava didn't enlighten him that watching movies had been the mainstay of her sanity over the years. She hugged his compliments to her heart and babbled on. It was only when they approached Belleview that Vince turned serious.

'Will your brother say anything about your not coming home last night?'

'No. He won't have gone home himself. He won't have come home this morning, either. He'll have gone straight to golf for the day.'

'I see. Is he serious about Catherine, do you think?'

'I hope not.'

'I hope not too, for his sake.'

Vince swung the Mazda into the driveway where Ava was startled to see the gates of Belleview already open, even though she hadn't pressed the remote control gizmo in her handbag.

'Oh, G.o.d,' she groaned. 'Byron must be home.' Her instant panic belied her belief that she had become a grown-up woman with the right to do as she believed. Suddenly, she was a bundle of nerves.

'Don't worry,' Vince said firmly. 'Leave this up to me.' And he shot through the gates, whipping around the semicircular driveway and grinding to a bone- crunching halt at the bottom of the steps. Immediately one of the front doors opened and Byron stepped out on to the patio, looking murderous.

Not only murderous but surprisingly unshaven. He was also still wearing the same clothes he'd been wearing at the party, a dark blue suit. His tie, however, was missing, and the top b.u.t.ton of his shirt was undone. His hair looked greyer than usual and he didn't seem to have combed it.

Ava could not help staring at this most uncharacteristic sloppiness. Byron was usually most particular over how he presented himself, even around the house. When Ava and Vince didn't get out of the car straight away he stormed down the steps and wrenched open the pa.s.senger door.

'You get yourself out of there immediately,' he roared at her.

'Stay right where you are, Ava,' Vince said in so* cool, collected and commanding a voice that Ava was in no doubt whom she was going to obey. 'I would like to have a word with you, Mr Whitmore,' he added, already getting out of the car.

'You've got a b.l.o.o.d.y hide, Morelli, keeping my sister out all night then breezing in here like you've done nothing wrong.'

'I haven't done anything wrong. Unless you think making love to an adult woman who wants you to make love to her is wrong. In that case, look to yourself, Mr Whitmore. I doubt you've only been sipping coffee at night with Catherine Gateshead.'

An angry red slashed across Byron's cheekbones. 'You're nothing but a b.l.o.o.d.y gigolo, Morelli, taking advantage of lonely women who've had the misfortune to hire you to work around their homes.'

'Is that what Catherine told you? I'd take anything she says with a grain of salt, if I were you.'

'Once I've had you checked out, you won't be so c.o.c.ky,* Byron threatened.

'You think not? Go ahead. Make my day.'

Byron's top lip curled. 'Very funny. You won't be cracking jokes when I can show my sister in black and white just what a cad she's got mixed up with. I've done a bit of checking up on you myself already and even your own mother told me you're engaged to an nice little Italian girl.'