at ease down to a fine art.’
‘Thank you,’ Holly murmured. ‘Why do I get the feeling you don’t altogether approve, though?’ she added.
‘Could you be imagining it?’ he suggested with a sudden grin, and went on immediately, ‘I am running late now; I’m sorry…’
‘Going; I’m going!’ Holly assured him and turned towards the door. ‘See you tomorrow.’
But, even though he was running late, Brett Wyndham watched her retreating back until she disappeared. Then he walked out on to the terrace and stared at the moon and the river of silver light it was pouring onto the waters of the cove.
She’d been right, he reflected. He wasn’t entirely approving of her skills as an interviewer. She did have an engaging, relaxing way with her. She did also have an undoubted enthusiasm for, and a lively curiosity about, his story and that of his family and its history. Not that he’d told her anything he hadn’t wanted to tell her, nordid he have any intention of exposing the dark secret that lay behind him.
But was she capable of digging it out somehow?
Or, in other words, had he unwittingly put himself into a rather vulnerable situation because he’d underestimated a leggy twenty-four-year old who intrigued him?
For some reason his thoughts moved on to the little scene that had played out when she’d first arrived in his suite, and how she’d reacted when he’d stopped her walking out. She’d been genuinely frightened and angry at the same time. She had told him she’d got her fingers burnt once and it was still with her. He had to believe that now. He also had to believe it had pulled him up short, the fact that he’d frightened her.
All the same—call it all off and send her home? Or deliberately shift the focus to the project he really wanted to publicize, as had been his original intention?
He shrugged and went out to dinner with his brother, his sister, his sister-in-law-to-be and several others. He was unaware that his ex-fiancée would be one of the party.
Holly had her hamburger, and was strolling along the beach side of the road opposite the fabulous restaurants of Palm Cove, when she stopped as Brett Wyndham caught her attention.
He was with a party of diners at an upmarket restaurant that opened onto the pavement and had an amazing old melaleuca tree growing in the middle of it. It was not only an upmarket restaurant, it was a pretty upmarket party of diners, she decided. One of the women washis sister, Sue Murray, looking lovely in turquoise silk with pearls in her ears and around her neck. Two of the other women were exceptionally sleek and gorgeously dressed, one a stunning redhead, the other with a river of smooth, straight blonde hair that Holly would have given her eye teeth for.
It looked to be a lively party as wine glasses glinted beneath the lights and a small army of waiters delivered a course.
After her initial summing-up of the party, Holly turned her attention back to Brett and felt that not so unexpected frisson run through her. She frowned. Was she getting used to the effect his dark good looks and tall physique had on her? She certainly wasn’t as annoyed about it as she’d been only a few days ago.
But there was something else to worry about now, she acknowledged. Ever since she’d left his suite she’d been conscious of a sense of unease. Was she imagining it, or had he rather suddenly developed reservations about the interview?
No, it wasn’t her imagination, she decided. Something had changed. Had she asked too many questions?
She shook her head and went back to watching Brett Wyndham, only to be troubled by yet another set of thoughts. How would she feel if he pulled out of the interview? How would she feel if she never saw him again?
Her eyes widened at the chill little pang that ran through her at the thought, leaving her in no doubt she would suffer a sense of loss, a sense of regret. Ifthat was the case for her now, after only a few brief
‘Thank you,’ Holly murmured. ‘Why do I get the feeling you don’t altogether approve, though?’ she added.
‘Could you be imagining it?’ he suggested with a sudden grin, and went on immediately, ‘I am running late now; I’m sorry…’
‘Going; I’m going!’ Holly assured him and turned towards the door. ‘See you tomorrow.’
But, even though he was running late, Brett Wyndham watched her retreating back until she disappeared. Then he walked out on to the terrace and stared at the moon and the river of silver light it was pouring onto the waters of the cove.
She’d been right, he reflected. He wasn’t entirely approving of her skills as an interviewer. She did have an engaging, relaxing way with her. She did also have an undoubted enthusiasm for, and a lively curiosity about, his story and that of his family and its history. Not that he’d told her anything he hadn’t wanted to tell her, nordid he have any intention of exposing the dark secret that lay behind him.
But was she capable of digging it out somehow?
Or, in other words, had he unwittingly put himself into a rather vulnerable situation because he’d underestimated a leggy twenty-four-year old who intrigued him?
For some reason his thoughts moved on to the little scene that had played out when she’d first arrived in his suite, and how she’d reacted when he’d stopped her walking out. She’d been genuinely frightened and angry at the same time. She had told him she’d got her fingers burnt once and it was still with her. He had to believe that now. He also had to believe it had pulled him up short, the fact that he’d frightened her.
All the same—call it all off and send her home? Or deliberately shift the focus to the project he really wanted to publicize, as had been his original intention?
He shrugged and went out to dinner with his brother, his sister, his sister-in-law-to-be and several others. He was unaware that his ex-fiancée would be one of the party.
Holly had her hamburger, and was strolling along the beach side of the road opposite the fabulous restaurants of Palm Cove, when she stopped as Brett Wyndham caught her attention.
He was with a party of diners at an upmarket restaurant that opened onto the pavement and had an amazing old melaleuca tree growing in the middle of it. It was not only an upmarket restaurant, it was a pretty upmarket party of diners, she decided. One of the women washis sister, Sue Murray, looking lovely in turquoise silk with pearls in her ears and around her neck. Two of the other women were exceptionally sleek and gorgeously dressed, one a stunning redhead, the other with a river of smooth, straight blonde hair that Holly would have given her eye teeth for.
It looked to be a lively party as wine glasses glinted beneath the lights and a small army of waiters delivered a course.
After her initial summing-up of the party, Holly turned her attention back to Brett and felt that not so unexpected frisson run through her. She frowned. Was she getting used to the effect his dark good looks and tall physique had on her? She certainly wasn’t as annoyed about it as she’d been only a few days ago.
But there was something else to worry about now, she acknowledged. Ever since she’d left his suite she’d been conscious of a sense of unease. Was she imagining it, or had he rather suddenly developed reservations about the interview?
No, it wasn’t her imagination, she decided. Something had changed. Had she asked too many questions?
She shook her head and went back to watching Brett Wyndham, only to be troubled by yet another set of thoughts. How would she feel if he pulled out of the interview? How would she feel if she never saw him again?
Her eyes widened at the chill little pang that ran through her at the thought, leaving her in no doubt she would suffer a sense of loss, a sense of regret. Ifthat was the case for her now, after only a few brief
Similar Books
