Mistaken Engagement (3 page)

Still, Grace hadn’t expected Ryan to meet them.

Judging by his scowl, nor had Saul. “Where’s Carrie?”

Ryan ducked his head. “She’s sleeping.”

“Thanks for driving in to meet us,” Grace said.

“No problem.” He smiled at her. He had a lovely smile, quiet and genuine.

“Where’s your car?” Saul asked. A swing of the bags he held suggested they get moving.

“This way.” But instead of leading the way, Ryan fell into step with Grace. “How have you been? I thought I’d see you at Christmas.”

“I had to work. Christmas is a busy time at the hospital, and other people have families, kids. I volunteered to work over the holidays.”

”You always think of other people.”

Saul’s broad shoulders twitched. He coughed, a wordless, pointed sound of disbelief.

Okay so her reasons weren’t that selfless. She’d been in hiding. But she had considered other people’s needs.

They arrived at Ryan’s car and while Saul finished stowing the bags in the boot, Ryan opened the passenger door for her.

“Grace will sit in the back with me,” Saul said.

She glanced at him as he slammed the boot shut.

His mouth was tight with displeasure and the look he slanted at Ryan was both challenging and critical. “If Carrie were here, she could sit in the front with you.”

Carrie.

Grace’s emotions see-sawed. She’d been braced to feel some strong emotions at the sight of Ryan. Disappointment, perhaps. At a minimum, embarrassment that she’d thought he might be interested in her. Instead, she’d felt relaxed and unpressured. Meeting Ryan again was simply like meeting a friend.

But Saul’s attitude hurt. Obviously he’d picked up the same hints of strain in Carrie and Ryan’s relationship that she had. However, he couldn’t have thought she’d do anything to intensify those strains? As if she would. As if she could! She’d never been competition for Carrie.

She fumbled with the handle of the back door, got it open and slid in. To her shock, Saul slid in after her, and she had to shuffle along the seat. His large body made the back of Ryan’s compact car seem stiflingly small. He raised an arm and stretched it along the back of the seat. It was a space-invading, male-claiming gesture that annoyed her — because he didn’t mean it. He was just giving Ryan a message.

“How are you, Ryan?” She glared at Saul.

Saul held her gaze and shifted his arm. Now his hand touched her neck. He moved his thumb with tantalising strokes.

She would have reached up and grabbed his wrist to stop him, but she caught Ryan watching in the rear view mirror.

“I’m not as busy as you, but busy enough. I have a new re-modelling project.”

“That’ll be challenging,” she responded at random to Ryan. Her skin was over-sensitised, lighting responses through her body at Saul’s touch. “Are the clients nice?”

“Nice is over-rated,” Saul said. Echoes of their conversation in the plane reverberated. His thumb caressed the soft skin behind her ear.

Ryan cleared his throat. “Actually, they are nice. A middle-aged couple who have just married. They’re joining their households.”

“A new relationship and a remodelling project. They’re brave.” Grace wondered if she sounded as inane as she suspected. Think bedside manner, she told herself. Small talk kept society functioning.

Yet the conversation faltered and lapsed, killed by the men’s unwillingness to talk to one another.

In the silence, Saul stopped caressing her, but his hand curving warmly around the ball of her shoulder had its own distraction. With every breath she took, the slight shift of her body against his arm mesmerised her. It was intimate, this being together in quiet. She could hear and feel him breathing beside her. If she turned, she could put her hand to his chest and measure the even beat of his heart. She laced her hands together in her lap.

“You’ll have to direct me to your house, Saul,” Ryan said as he drove into Eagle Bay.

Saul’s directions were simple and clear. The short driveway opened into the clearing around the modern house. Ryan killed the engine.

“Thanks.” Saul withdrew his arm from around Grace and got out of the car.

She scrambled out and inhaled the fresh air off the ocean. Her nose wrinkled. The morning breeze came from the east, not off the ocean, and it carried the smell of smoke. She didn’t like the reminder of bushfire season. She’d seen another contained fire as Saul circled and brought the plane in to land. The fire trucks had looked tiny against the immensity of blackened ground and red flames.

“Um, I thought I’d be driving Grace to her parents’ house?”

She turned and saw that Saul had extracted her bag as well as his from the boot.

“Grace is staying with me,” he said. “You and Carrie are company enough for her parents.”

“But.” Ryan’s car keys rattled as his arm jerked. “It’s her home. Grace, your mum’s expecting you.”

She met Saul’s determined gaze.

He’d put her in an impossible position. If she stayed with him, the family would think there was something between them. If she insisted on going with Ryan … she had a feeling Saul wouldn’t let her. He seemed awfully intent on protecting Carrie.

All the lovely shivery sensations his touch had woken froze.

“Mum and Stuart are just down the beach. I’m sure I’ll see them plenty. But Saul’s right. He has plenty of room and this way you and Carrie will have some privacy. Tell Mum I’ll drop in as soon as I’ve unpacked.”

Saul picked up both bags and started for the house. “We’ll see you around, Ryan.”

“Thanks for the lift.” She hesitated, then decided on discretion. She followed Saul to the house. “Bye.”

Gravel splattered as Ryan drove off.

“You really don’t have to protect Carrie from me,” she said to Saul as he shouldered open the front door. “I wouldn’t get between her and Ryan, even if I could.”

An uncivil grunt was her only answer. He put their bags down and turned to the control panel set in the wall beside the door. A moment later the shutters on the windows started rolling up. The rumble precluded further conversation.

She remembered when Saul built the house. The land was a gift from his dad, parcelled off from Uncle Greg’s sea-front plot. Saul had got in an architect and had it designed to function as a holiday home. That meant shutters for security, but also polished concrete floors for practicality and built-in furniture and conveniences.

The floor plan was equally unpretentious and after she’d joined Saul in opening windows and doors to air the house, she took her bag to the larger of the two guest bedrooms.

Her reflection in a mirror caught her by surprise. She’d forgotten her new skimpy clothes. She winced. Not that her mum was a prude. Kylie would be pleased to see her getting into the holiday spirit.

An imp of mischief made her reflection grin. Speaking of the holiday mood…

She unzipped her weekender bag.

“Freaking fire bells.” Saul spilled his glass of water down his shirt. He brushed at the stain, most of his attention on Grace who had slipped out a side door — avoiding him.

She’d also changed her shirt and shorts for a dress. What a dress. The minuscule hem rivalled her shorts for indecency and the spaghetti straps that held it up were an incitement to lust. One twitch of their ties — and he’d bet cautious Grace had double knotted them, so maybe it would take more than one twitch — and the whole dress would fall down.

He grinned. There was no way Grace had had this dress tucked away in her wardrobe. The all-over print on it was an enlarged version of the Australian flag. This dress had been bought especially for this weekend. Which made him wonder if she’d bought her shorts and shirt especially, too. It made him curious what else lurked in her bag.

He liked the thought that after his visit to her yesterday, she’d gone out and bought new clothes.

Or had she bought them for Ryan? Those cute flirty clothes that said, “Yeah I’m a woman. What are you going to do about it?” Those clothes, her whole attitude, which made him want to show her how he treated a woman, his woman.

He swore, and went to change his wet t shirt. He needed to borrow a car and get some groceries in the house.

Grace swung unhappily in the hammock seat hooked to a beam on the veranda of her mum and Stuart’s house. She’d stayed for lunch, grateful to escape more time with Saul, and dismissing her mum’s suggestion that they phone and invite him.

“We’re friends, Mum. That’s why I’m staying with him.” She crossed her fingers behind her back. “We want to show everyone that there’s no broken heart between us. Saul was just kidding about our engagement.”

Carrie and Ryan had both looked interested at that bit of news.

“Seems a strange thing to joke about,” Stuart said.

Grace smiled at her stepfather. “Well, Saul is strange.”

Her mother laughed, sounding relieved. “I’m just glad he flew you down here to join us. You work too hard.”

“It’s worth it,” Grace said.

But over lunch the conversation had drifted to plans for Carrie and Ryan’s wedding. Stuart had the money and Carrie had the inclination to turn it into a social circus. That Ryan didn’t share her enthusiasm was quietly obvious.

Grace had been glad to escape to the veranda and sit and watch the view. The ocean was beautiful. The wind had changed direction and now blew in off the water, fresh and cool.

“You look peaceful,” Ryan said from the doorway.

“I’m on holiday.” She kept her smile low key, polite but no more. She was beginning to think Saul was right. Friendship between her and Ryan wasn’t possible, not when he was plainly dissatisfied with his engagement. She couldn’t be a confidante for his troubles. Carrie was her stepsister. There were bonds of family, loyalty and love that she wouldn’t break.

“And apparently when she goes on holiday, she forgets her common sense.” Saul appeared around the corner of the house. “You forgot your key.”

She blushed. She hadn’t forgotten. She’d deliberately slipped out of the house and the gleam in his dark eyes said he knew it.

“Fortunately my landlord is the understanding type,” she said.

“Don’t believe it.” He dangled a key. “Consider it your one and only warning.” His gaze flickered to Ryan and back. “I’m going to visit Gran. You coming?”

“Yes.” She uncurled her legs. His invitation obviously excluded Ryan. “See you later.”

“Yeah. Later.”

Saul’s hand clasped hers and drew her down the private path. It was wide enough for two people to walk abreast, or for Gran to drive her golf buggy.

They left Ryan standing alone on the veranda.

“I’ll do that.” Saul took the bucket of wet sand from Grace and turned it upside down on the top of the sandcastle’s tower they were building.

”I could have reached. I’m not that short,” she grumbled.

“You’re wearing red knickers,” he said under his breath.

She gasped and tugged down her tiny skirt.

“Not that I’m complaining, you understand.” He enjoyed her look of confusion. He liked her hot and flustered. He liked how her gaze snared with his and her hand froze a second on that ridiculously short skirt. “But there are children here.”

Children of friends, family and neighbours. Gran kept an open house. But for a few moments they all faded into the background as sensual awareness locked Grace and him in their own world. His body tensed as her lips parted in a natural pout that magazine models tried and failed to emulate; all invitation and longing.

Then a kid shrieked.

“I never thought I’d be building a sandcastle.” Grace glanced down at her dress, which thanks to her pulling had stretched to near decency on her thighs, but at the cost of a provocatively low neckline.

She hitched up the neckline.

“You should know to expect the unexpected from Gran.” He added another bucket of sand to the approval of the busy kids. He liked occupying the littlies, even if he was currently wishing for an empty beach and time to explore that moment with Grace.

“I think I’ll supervise,” she said.

“Spoilsport.”

She sat in the shade of an umbrella and a tired three year old immediately curled up near her. Grace put her arm around him.

The scene tugged at Saul’s heart. He wanted his kid to have that; a soul-deep trust that he was loved and wanted. He knelt there, bucket half-filled with sand, watching Grace smile down at the boy and smooth the dark curls that lay against the curve of her breast. His gut tightened.

“More.” An imperative childish treble recalled him to his castle-building duties.

A game of beach cricket for the older kids — and adults — finished the afternoon. He and Grace stayed for a barbeque dinner. He noticed her high colour on occasion when a particularly tactless relative studied them together — the formerly engaged couple who couldn’t even agree on whether they’d been engaged. But despite how the family grapevine had gossiped, there seemed to be a general acceptance that things were okay now. He and Grace were friends again.