The Aristocrat and the Single Mum. Michelle Douglas

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      He glanced around and a reluctant grin tugged at his lips. ‘I think she’s probably had a ball.’

      ‘Bingo.’

      Sauntering along the water’s edge like this with Simon was strangely companionable. Kate pulled in a breath, filled her lungs with air, and beneath the salt tang lay the cool, crisp scent that was Simon—wood shavings, a hint of pine and something that was purely male.

      ‘Does your brother—Danny—live in Nelson’s Bay too?’

      ‘He does. We run the dolphin tour business together.’ She glanced up at him and smiled; she couldn’t seem to help it. ‘My father started the business over twenty years ago.’

      ‘And you enjoy it?’

      ‘I love it. Most of the time.’ She frowned. ‘Except on those days when staff call in sick—like this morning—and I have to run around like the proverbial headless chicken to get a replacement.’

      His lips twitched. ‘Was that before or after the goldfish burial?’

      ‘During.’

      He was silent for a moment. ‘And what do you and Danny do to have fun together?’

      She tripped and almost fell flat on her face. But she righted herself almost at once and hoped her surprise didn’t show. ‘We share a passion for surfing and B-grade horror films. What about you and Felice?’

      When he didn’t say anything she nudged his arm. ‘C’mon, there has to be at least one thing you guys like to do together. You have to have at least one good memory of hanging out with her.’

      For heaven’s sake, he was a lord. Which probably made Felice a lady. They must’ve had the best toys, the best holidays…the best of everything.

      He straightened and glared down his nose at her. ‘There are many.’

      Boy, could he do haughty when he wanted to? ‘Then pick a stand out,’ she ordered. ‘When was the last time you made her laugh? Really laugh.’

      He considered her words, then a slow smile spread across his face. ‘The time I taught her to walk on her hands.’

      No toys. ‘Where?’

      ‘On the lawn at the Holm estate.’

      No exotic location. ‘When?’

      His grin broadened. Kate didn’t want to ask why it gladdened her heart so much.

      ‘It would’ve only been five years ago.’

      ‘Five years!’ She grabbed his arm and pulled him to a stop. ‘You can walk on your hands? Show me,’ she demanded. ‘All my life I have been trying to walk on my hands.’

      So he did. He turned himself upside down and walked on his hands. His biceps bulged, the muscles in his forearms flexed, his T-shirt fell down to cover his face, and Kate’s mouth watered as she took in an impeccable six-pack. He took five or six steps on his hands—Kate wasn’t sure how many, she’d lost the ability to count—then he righted himself with a flourish. ‘Ta da!’ And then he bowed.

      She stood there and gaped at him, then realised perhaps that wasn’t very cool so she executed a perfect cartwheel instead.

      He nodded. ‘Nice.’

      ‘I’ll teach you to do a cartwheel if you’ll teach me to walk on my hands.’

      ‘I hate to break this to you, Kate, but cartwheels are a girl thing.’

      ‘Male gymnasts do them!’

      ‘Mmm…I’m still thinking they’re a girl thing.’

      ‘How about a back flip?’ she offered. ‘I can do a back flip.’

      She did a back flip.

      So did Simon.

      And then it was on—the trying to impress each other, outdo each other. Showing off, pure and simple. Kate knew it was ridiculous and childish, but there was no denying it was fun. She laughed until her stomach ached. Then she laughed until it stopped. Finally, after another botched attempt on her part to walk on her hands, and Simon’s attempt to save her, they fell to the sand in a tangle of limbs.

      Kate lay back and stared up at the bluest of blue skies and tried to catch her breath. She turned her head a fraction to feast her eyes on Simon’s profile. As if he could feel her gaze, he rolled to his side and propped his head on his hand. His eyes travelled over her hair, her face, and she could tell he liked what he saw. A thrill shot through her.

      She tried to douse it with a dose of cold hard reality. She should pull back—turn away. Simon was a tourist. Nothing could happen between them.

      ‘Tell me,’ he started with a smile that could tempt a saint, ‘exactly how scandalised would that accountant of yours be if you showed up to your meeting a tad…damp?’

      She pretended to consider it. ‘In all honesty, on a day like today, I expect he’ll be a tad damp too.’ And it wouldn’t hurt her to cool off.

      Simon didn’t need any further encouragement. He picked her up, raced to the water’s edge and tossed her in. Her laugh was cut short as water closed over her head. She bounced up, spluttering, to find him grinning and barely wet. So that was how he wanted to play it, huh? She grabbed him, hooked a leg behind his knee and dunked him.

      He burst out of the water, seized her around the waist and kissed her. Hot and hard. Before she could catch her breath. Then he pulled back, but he didn’t let her go and Kate knew this was what she’d been waiting for from the first moment he’d smiled at her.

      He didn’t move. Not forward. Not back. As if giving her a chance to pull away, to stop what was about to happen from happening.

      He had to be joking, right? She wasn’t going anywhere. Oh, she knew she should turn tail and run. But she couldn’t…wouldn’t.

      One of his hands came up to cup her cheek—his eyes reflected her own confusion and wonder. Then his head dipped to hers and her lips lifted to his and she fell into him. But that seemed okay because his arms came around her and held her safe while his lips and his mouth and his tongue teased and tantalised and tempted.

      Sensation spun inwards, then outwards, fizzing up through her like uncorked champagne. But still Simon held her safe. And the kiss deepened and grew until her arms twined around his neck and his hands splayed across her back, pulling her nearer, and even the gentle swell of the water propelled her closer and closer to him.

      In his arms, all things suddenly seemed possible.

      When Simon lifted his head, Kate didn’t know if it was seconds or minutes that had passed.

      ‘I…’ He blinked, slowly, as if waking from a dream.

      ‘Wow,’ she breathed.

      He grinned. A low, sexy grin. ‘That’s the word I was looking for.’

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