‘I’m sorry to hear you’ve been hurt,’ she said stiffly.
Boy, had she wanted to hurt him back then.
‘All in the line of duty,’ he said. ‘My own fault for grappling with a too-large concrete beam without help.’
‘So you’ve come home to recuperate?’ she asked. She became aware of the carving pressing into her back and moved from the countertop, being careful not to take a step closer to him. Her reaction to him had unnerved her. She didn’t know that she could trust herself not to reach out to him if she got too near.
‘That’s right,’ he said. ‘But I’m bored with all the physiotherapy and “taking it easy”. I’ve been helping Ben and Sandy finish off the café.’ He looked around him with a proprietorial air that she found disconcerting. ‘Impressive, isn’t it?’
‘Very,’ she said. ‘I love the dolphin carvings. Every business in this town has to display some kind of dolphin motif, if I remember correctly. These are works of art.’
She kept her tone neutral but inside she was seething. In all their phone calls and Skype discussions about the progress of the café, Sandy had never once mentioned that Jesse was back in town. Her sister, along with everyone else in this gossip-ridden small town, knew she and Jesse had been caught making out on the balcony.
It wouldn’t have been a huge deal anywhere else but here it was big news. Jesse was the kind of guy the locals kept odds on. The big bets were on that he would never settle down with one woman.
She found herself nervously glancing out of the plate glass windows that led to the street for fear people walking by might notice her and Jesse alone together.
She didn’t want to become part of the Jesse mythology. Be a butt of local jokes. But her indiscretion on the night of the wedding meant, most likely, she’d been added to the list of his conquests. Why hadn’t Sandy warned her Jesse had made an unscheduled visit home? That he’d be working on the café? It would be almost impossible to avoid him.
As Jesse reached out to touch the dolphin carvings, she jerked away from him to avoid any possible contact. He raised a dark eyebrow but didn’t say anything. Which made her feel even more ill at ease.
‘They’re by the same Balinese carvers as the fittings next door in Bay Books,’ he said, stroking the dolphin. She couldn’t look, couldn’t let herself remember how good his hands had felt on the bare skin of her back in her strapless bridesmaid dress. ‘Sandy had the countertop custom-made and then imported it. I only finished installing it yesterday.’
‘So you’ve completed work on the fit-out now?’ She spoke through gritted teeth. Please, please, please let him be on his way back to his job in the Philippines.
‘Just about.’
She sighed with too-obvious relief. ‘So you won’t be around much longer.’
Only a tightening of his beautifully chiselled lips betrayed he’d noticed her tone.
‘There’s the unpacking to do. And I still have to finish off some tiling upstairs in your apartment,’ he said.
‘You’ve been working up there?’ She regretted the squawk of alarm as soon as it had escaped from her mouth. Jesse in her bathroom; maybe in her bedroom? The thought was disconcerting, to say the least.
But she couldn’t let him know she was worried he would invade her private thoughts when she was alone in those rooms. She mustn’t let that happen.
‘Sandy wanted the bathroom remodelled to be as comfortable as possible for you and your little girl,’ he said.
‘Thank you for your help,’ she managed politely. ‘It was a big order to get it ready in time for us to move in.’
Her real gratitude was to Sandy. How many other down-on-their-luck chefs had a sister who had offered not only a job but also a place to live, rent-free?
But having Jesse Morgan around hadn’t been part of the deal. She didn’t want to be reminded of her lack of judgement on the night of the wedding. Of the folly of being in his arms. She should have known better than to fall for that kind of guy again.
Because, no matter how many times over the last six months she’d told herself that Jesse was bad news, seeing him again made her aware she’d be lying if she thought she was immune to him. He was still out-and-out the most attractive man she’d ever met. She would have to fight that attraction every moment she found herself in his company. Dear heaven, let there not be too many of those moments.
She looked purposefully around her again. ‘I’d hate for the building work here to delay your recuperation.’
Jesse’s deep blue eyes narrowed. ‘So I can get the hell out of Dolphin Bay, you mean?’
She struggled to meet his gaze. ‘I...I didn’t mean it like that,’ she lied.
His face set in grim lines. ‘You might not like it but you’d better get used to me being around. I’m going to be here for at least another month while my shoulder heals.’
She couldn’t help her little gasp of horror. ‘What?’
Only the twist of his mouth indicated he’d heard. ‘Sandy needs help to get this venture up and running and I intend to give it to her. The Morgan family is grateful to Sandy. Heaven knows where Ben would be if she hadn’t come back into his life after all those years.’
‘Of course,’ she said, suddenly feeling shamefaced that all she was thinking about was herself.
Lizzie and Sandy had first visited Dolphin Bay on a family vacation as teenagers. They’d stayed in the Morgan family’s character-filled old guest house. Lizzie remembered Jesse from that time as an arrogant show-off, flexing his well-developed teenage muscles at any opportunity. But Sandy had fallen in love with Ben. They hadn’t met again until twelve years later, after Ben had lost his first wife and baby son in the fire that had destroyed the guest house. Together they’d taken a second chance on love.
‘I want to make this café a success for Sandy as well,’ Lizzie continued. ‘And for Ben, too—he’s a marvellous brother-in-law. They’ve both been very good to me.’
Sandy was the only person she felt she could really trust. They’d been allies in the battleground that had been their family, led by their bully of a father. Her older sister had always watched out for her. Just like she was watching out for her and Amy now. Lizzie owed her.
‘Then we’re on the same page,’ Jesse said.
‘Right,’ she said, unable to keep the anxiety from her voice.
‘Bay Bites opens in a week’s time. We don’t have time to waste bickering,’ Jesse said.
He took a few steps towards her until she was back up against that dolphin fin again and she couldn’t back away from him any further. She felt breathless at his proximity, the memories of how good it had felt to be in his arms treacherously near the surface.
But this wasn’t the fun, charming Jesse she’d known at the wedding bearing down on her. This Jesse looked tough, implacable and she didn’t think it was her imagination that he seemed suddenly contemptuous of her.
‘So better grit your teeth and bear being in my company for as long as it takes,’ he said.
She’d had no idea his voice could sound so harsh.
CHAPTER TWO
JESSE NEARLY LAUGHED out loud at the expression of dismay on Lizzie’s face. She so obviously didn’t want to work with him any more than he wanted to work with her. Not after her behaviour at Ben and Sandy’s wedding.
He could brush off his reputation as a player—but that wasn’t to say he liked it. And he hadn’t liked being made a fool of by Lizzie in the public arena of his brother’s wedding reception. He hadn’t appreciated having to make so many gritted teeth responses to his Dolphin Bay friends as they’d asked why Lizzie had left him high and dry when they’d so publicly been having a good time together. That had been difficult when he’d had no idea himself. There had been only so many jokes about whether he needed to change his deodorant that he coul
d take. His banter had run dry long before he’d realised Lizzie wasn’t coming back.
He indicated the packages propped up against the wall. ‘Right now I’m here to help you get those artworks up on the walls.’
‘I’m not sure I need help,’ she said, folding her arms in front of her. ‘I’m quite capable of placing the artwork myself.’
Lizzie’s looks were deceptive. Tall and slender with a mass of white blonde, finely curled hair, she gave the initial impression of being frail. But he knew there was steel under that fragile appearance. Her arms might be slim but they were firm with lean muscle. At the wedding she’d explained that hauling heavy cooking pans around a restaurant kitchen was a daily weight training regime.
‘No,’ he said curtly. ‘That’s my job and I’m here to do it.’
‘What about your shoulder? Surely you shouldn’t be lifting stuff.’
‘Canvas artworks? Not a problem. This phase of my rehab calls for some light lifting.’
‘But I need time to sort through them, to decide which paintings I like best.’
Her bottom lip stuck out stubbornly. She was putting up a fight. Tough. He’d promised Sandy he’d help out. For the years Ben had been immersed in grief, Jesse felt he had lost his adored older brother. Sandy’s love had restored Ben to him. He could never thank her enough. If that meant having to spend too much time with her sister, he’d endure it. Lizzie could put up with it too.
He thought into the future and saw a long procession of family occasions where he and Lizzie would be forced into each other’s company, whether they liked it or not. He had to learn to deal with it. So would she. And he would have to forever ignore how attractive he found her.
‘That’s where we read from the same page,’ he said patiently, as if he were talking to a child. ‘You choose. I hammer a nail in the wall and hang the picture. Then the artists want the rejects back ASAP.’
She looked startled. ‘Rejects? I wouldn’t want to offend any artists. Art appreciation is such a personal thing.’
‘The artists have supplied these paintings to be sold on consignment,’ he explained. ‘You sell them through the café and get a commission on each sale. If they don’t get hung this time, maybe they’ll survive your cull next time.’
Lizzie nodded. It was the first time she’d agreed with him, though he sensed it took an effort. ‘True. So I should probably compile an A-list for immediate hanging and a B-list for reserves. The Bs can then be ready to slip into place when the As are sold.’
‘In theory a good idea. But keep the grading system to yourself. This is a small community.’
‘Point taken,’ she said, meeting his gaze square on. ‘I’ll defer to your small-town wisdom. We city people don’t understand such things.’
He didn’t miss the subtle edge of sarcasm to her words and again he had to fight a smile. He’d liked that tough core to her.
In fact when he’d met Lizzie at the pre-wedding party in Sydney for Ben and Sandy, he’d been immediately drawn to her. And not just for her good looks.
With her slender body, light blonde hair and cool grey eyes set in the pale oval of her face, she’d seemed ethereally lovely. But when she’d smiled, her eyes had lit up with a warmth and vivacity that had surprised him.
‘Let’s celebrate these long-lost lovers getting together in style,’ she’d said with a big earthy laugh that had been a wholehearted invitation to fun. From then on, the evening had turned out a whole lot better than he’d expected.
Lizzie had made him laugh with her tales of life in the stressful, volatile world of commercial kitchens. That night had been memorable. So had the wedding reception a few days later. She’d kept him entertained with a game where she made amusing whispered predictions about the favourite foods of the other guests. All based on years of personal research into restaurant guests’ tastes, she’d assured him with a straight face.
He hadn’t been sure whether she was serious or not. Thing was, she’d been right more often than she’d been wrong. She’d had him watching the wedding guests as they made their choices at the buffet. He’d whooped with her when she’d got it right—his father heading straight for the fillet of beef—and commiserated with her when she’d got it wrong—an ultra-thin friend of the bride loading her plate with desserts. The game was silly, childish even, but he had thoroughly enjoyed every moment of her company. Those moments out on the balcony where she’d come so willingly into his arms had been a bonus.
At that time, he’d been in dire need of some levity and laughter, having just unexpectedly encountered the woman who had broken his heart years before. He’d first met the older, more worldly-wise Camilla when he’d been twenty-five; she’d been a photojournalist documenting his team’s rebuilding of a flood-damaged community in Sri Lanka. He’d thought he’d never see her again after their disastrous break-up that had left him shattered and cynical about love, loyalty and trust.
At the wedding, lovely, spirited Lizzie had been both a distraction and a reminder that there could be life after treacherous Camilla.
Until Lizzie had walked out on him at the wedding without warning.
And now he was facing a completely different Lizzie. A Lizzie where it seemed as if the spark had fizzled right out of her. She was chilly. Standoffish. Hostile, even.
It made him wonder why he had found her appealing. He’d been so wrong about Camilla; seemed as if he’d misjudged Lizzie too.
He hadn’t been on top of his game at that time; that was for sure.
And now, by the mere fact her sister was married to his brother, he was stuck with her. Trouble was, he still found her every bit as beautiful as when he’d first met her.
The sooner they got the paintings hung and the boxes unpacked, the sooner he could get out of here and away from her prickly presence. He’d endured some difficult situations in his time. But it looked as if putting up with Lizzie was going to be one of the most difficult of all. Even twenty minutes with her was stretching his patience. But there was work to be done and he’d made a commitment to Sandy.
He’d break his time working with Lizzie into manageable blocks. He reckoned he could endure two hours of forced politeness in her company; manage to ignore how lovely she was. He’d make a strict schedule and stick to it. He looked at his watch. One hour and forty minutes to go. ‘Let’s get cracking on sorting those paintings. There’s an amazing one of dolphins surfing I think you might want to look at first.’
* * *
Under her breath, Lizzie let off a string of curse words. She swore fluently in both English and French—it was difficult not to pick up some very colourful language working in the pressure cooker atmosphere of commercial kitchens.
But these days she kept a guard on her tongue. No way did she want Amy picking up any undesirable phrases. So she kept the curse words rolling only in her mind. This particular stream was directed—non-verbally of course—towards her sister. What had Sandy been thinking to trap her in such close confines with Jesse Morgan?
He was insufferable. Talking to her as if she was an idiot. Well, she had been an idiot to have fancied him so much at the wedding. To have let physical attraction overrule good sense. But that was then and this was now.
Like many chefs, during the years she had worked in other peoples’ restaurants, she had entertained the idea of running a restaurant of her own. In fact she and Philippe had been working towards just that until she’d unexpectedly fallen pregnant and everything had changed.
For sure, her dream of running her own show hadn’t centred on a café in a place like Dolphin Bay but she could make the most of her downgraded dream. She knew what it took to make customers want to come to a restaurant—and to keep them coming. She didn’t need Mr Know-It-All Jesse Morgan telling her how to choose the art for the walls. For heaven’s sake, was he going to tell her what dishes to p
ut on the menu?
She made a point of looking at her watch too. Two could play at this game. ‘Okay, let’s unwrap the paintings one at a time and then I’ll compare them and decide which ones I like best. Without being so insensitive as to grade them, of course.’
For a moment she thought she saw a smile lurk around the corners of his grimly set mouth. It passed so quickly she could have imagined it. But for a second—just that second—she’d seen again that Jesse from the wedding who had appealed to her so much. Boy, had she got him wrong.
She walked across to the stacks of paintings. ‘Shall we start with the largest one first?’ she said.
Jesse nodded as he followed her over. ‘That’s the surfing dolphins one.’
She immediately wished she’d decided to open the smallest ones first. But she couldn’t backtrack now.
The painting was bracketed with sheets of cardboard and then wrapped with thick brown paper. She started to open it but the paper was too tough to tear. Silently, Jesse reached into his pocket and pulled out a retractable-blade utility knife. Again without saying a word, he clicked it free of its safety cover and handed it to her.
‘Thanks,’ she muttered, biting down on the urge to tell him not to keep such a dangerous tool in his pocket. She knew she was being unreasonable, but Jesse seemed to have that effect on her. As much as she hated to admit it, she’d been hurt by his behaviour at the wedding, and she would do whatever it took to protect herself from feeling that way again.
She crouched down and carefully slit the paper across the top of the wrapping. As she went to cut down the side, Jesse reached out a hand to stop her.
She flinched. Don’t touch me, she wanted to snarl. But that would sound irrational. She gritted her teeth.
‘Leave that,’ he said. ‘If you don’t cut the sides the painting will be easier to get back in the wrapping.’
She stilled for the long moment his hand stayed on her wrist. Of course he had beautiful hands, just like the rest of him—she couldn’t fail to register that. His fingers were warm and immediately familiar on her bare skin. She closed her eyes tight. She couldn’t deal with this. But she was just about to shake off his hand when he removed it. She realised she was holding her breath and she let it out in a controlled sigh that she prayed he didn’t register.
A Diamond in Her Stocking Page 2
