Untamed Bachelors. Susan Stephens

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      Safe.

      The house was in darkness when Matt let himself in around 6:00 p.m. He headed straight for the guest room, a strange anticipation twirling through him like streamers at Sydney’s Mardi Gras parade.

      A glimmer of light slanted across the hallway. Her door remained partially open as he’d left it. The lamp on the night stand, dimmed to its lowest setting, cast subtle shadows over Ellie. He’d intended asking her what she fancied eating but quickly decided she needed sleep more than sustenance.

      Her hair formed a curly halo around her face; long lashes rested on porcelain cheeks. The top button of her pyjamas had slipped undone, revealing the gold locket she always wore nestled in her dusky cleavage. Beautiful.

      And vulnerable.

      He should step back, give her privacy, but his eyes refused to look away. His feet held fast and his hand tightened around the edge of the door.

      He wanted to cross the room, brush his hand over her hair and enjoy its texture. To skim her cheek, lay his lips on hers and reacquaint himself with her taste.

      He imagined her waking to his touch. Amethyst eyes blinking up at him, turning dark as he slid his palms between flannel and warm skin. Then he’d soothe that innate caution she seemed to have with soft words, softer kisses. His fingers itched and his mouth watered.

      He dragged his gaze away from the bed to the darkened window while his thoughts drifted back to yesterday. She wasn’t as carefree and irresponsible as she’d initially have had him believe. And perhaps she wasn’t the type of woman he could easily walk away from without it playing on his conscience.

      He’d need to make it clear that there was no chance of anything serious developing between them. He didn’t do long-term. He’d been unable to give Angela the happy-ever-after marriage and children because long-term commitment didn’t work—he’d been witness to that too many times to count. He knew Belle’s heart had been broken when the man she’d loved had walked away, even though she’d never discussed the details.

      And the innocent kids when two people decided they’d had enough—where the hell did that leave them? Ellie’s father. His own mother. He didn’t want to hurt Ellie the same way.

      Didn’t mean he wanted her in his bed any less. As soon as she’d recovered, he told himself.

      The following morning Matt stood at the kitchen window watching the rain while he scooped up cereal, racking his brains for a reason other than gardening to keep Ellie here for the day. Assuming she was well enough. Hoping she was recovered because having her sleep so near that he could practically hear her breathing was playing havoc with his libido.

      Ellie appeared in the doorway, already showered and dressed in her tracksuit. Her complexion was pale, her nose still red, but other than that, she looked…like Ellie.

      He couldn’t believe the way her presence lifted the kitchen’s ambience. And his mood. ‘Good morning.’ He hefted the coffeepot. ‘You’d be feeling like a coffee, I imagine?’

      ‘Hi. Yes. Please.’ She walked a few steps, hesitated. ‘I didn’t mean to sleep all night. Sorry if I inconvenienced you in any way. I intended going home.’

      ‘I hardly knew you were here.’ Yeah, right. He’d not been able to think of anything else. For most of the night he’d been uncomfortably awake and aware that she’d been a few quick steps down the hall. He set a mug of coffee on the kitchen table. ‘How are you feeling this morning?’

      ‘Much better, thanks.’

      ‘I’ll let you know now, I don’t expect you to work in the rain.’

      ‘Oh. Good.’ She picked up the mug but remained standing. ‘So, I…’

      ‘So, I…’

      Both spoke at the same time. She raised her mug at him. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I was going to say if you’d like to work today and you’re feeling up to it, I’ve got an indoor job for you.’

      ‘Oh?’ Relief crossed her expression. ‘Great. I could do with the extra money.’

      ‘The downstairs windows could do with a wash. I’m sure Belle would appreciate it.’

      She smiled. ‘Just show me where the gear is, point me in the right direction and I’ll get started.’

      ‘No rush. Finish your coffee while I make you some breakfast.’

      ‘You don’t have to go to all that trouble, the caffeine hit’s fine.’

      ‘Belle would skin me alive if I forced you to work on an empty stomach. How does scrambled egg sound?’

      ‘Wonderful, but I can do it if you need to be somewhere…’

      ‘I’ve got a luncheon appointment but that’s hours away. Why don’t you find what you need in the laundry and set up while I cook?’

      Ellie set to work as soon as she’d eaten the meal Matt had prepared for her, which had been every bit as tasty as she’d expected. To her relief, he didn’t sit with her while she ate because a business call came through requiring his attention.

      She started in the dining and living rooms, admiring the exquisite cream, rose and jade furnishings against the dark antique furniture as she set up the stepladder and got to work.

      Next she chose a cosy little room down the hall which would catch the afternoon sun and give hours of pleasure on a cold winter’s day. Bookcases overloaded with classics lined one wall.

      Another shelf was crammed with fifties memorabilia. A selection of old vinyl 45s sat atop a small record player. Bill Haley’s ‘Rock around the Clock,’ Pat Boone’s ‘Love Letters in the Sand.’ The Platters, Elvis.

      A photo album caught Ellie’s eye. On the front was a black-and-white image of a teenage Belle. Ellie recognised the shape of her face, the wide eyes and broad cheekbones. But the hair was a surprise—pulled back in a curly ponytail, not unlike her own unruly locks. She was dressed in a full-skirted gingham-checked dress cinched at the waist with a wide belt and wore a heart-shaped locket around her neck.

      Ellie’s fingers tangled in the slim chain of her own locket which had belonged to her mother. A tingle danced over her nape, as if someone had stroked a finger down her spine.

      Shaking the sensation away, she set the album back in place. But for just a heartbeat or two she’d been mesmerised by the image and a strange feeling that she was missing a piece of a puzzle.

Chapter Seven

      A SHORT time later she was halfway up the stepladder when Matt appeared to inform her he was leaving. He wore a white shirt, silver-grey silk tie, dark trousers and a chocolate-brown suede jacket. Smelling fresh and masculine and entirely too sexy to be heading out to anything remotely concerned with business.

      But then…he hadn’t mentioned business, had he? Only that he had a luncheon appointment. Which was open to all manner of interpretation.

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