by Marsh, Susan
‘Well, I guess we want different things, then, don’t we?’
She had no intention of waiting around for his answer, but as she swivelled towards the door he made a strange, almost strangled sound that had her turning back.
‘Beth, we could’ve dated while I’m here. We could’ve seen where this could lead.’
‘Oh, I already know. You’re the one who doesn’t want to take the risk.’
She forced her feet to move, determined to ignore the pain in her chest, the deep-seated ache that she’d tried her best and her best wasn’t good enough, the soul-deep certainty that she’d just lost the best thing to ever to happen to her.
* * *
Aidan did what he’d always done when he needed to blow off steam: he dug.
Grabbing an old shovel of his dad’s, he headed out into the backyard and stabbed at the soil in the overgrown veggie patch, enjoying the bite of steel in his instep as he pushed down on the shovel, relishing the twinge in his back as he hoisted a monstrous clump of dirt and flung it as far as he could.
He repeated the action over and over, the mindless repetition soothing as always. With every clump he overturned, his tension dissipated till he leaned forward on the shovel and wiped his brow, sweat pouring off him, feeling lighter than he had in months.
He should’ve been angry.
Hell, he should’ve been downright fuming after what Beth had said, pushing him for a commitment he couldn’t give, taking their relationship from casual to serious in the blink of an eye.
He didn’t like being pushed.
Fenella had pushed … and pushed … and pushed, until she’d pushed so hard he’d had no option but to leave.
She’d hated his job, hated the month they’d spent in Greece, hated everything about it: the dust, the heat, the dirt under his fingernails at the end of another glorious day when he’d discovered a priceless piece of history.
She’d pushed him to make a choice, her or his digs, and he’d chosen her out of love. Or so he’d thought. It wasn’t till later, much later, that he’d learned the truth and it sickened him to this day.
He couldn’t rely on anyone. Not his parents, not the woman he’d made a mistake of falling for back then. He’d learned the hard way his job was the only dependable thing in his life.
Shaking his head, he drove the shovel harder into the dirt, obliterating his memories of a time he’d rather forget, wishing he could forget more recent ones of Beth and the special time they’d spent together just as easily.
Instead, with the sun beating down on him and his muscles aching as they hadn’t in ages, all he could think about was how damn good they’d been together.
He hadn’t been truly happy since he’d taken over as CEO at the museum and he missed the hands-on digging and discovery work more than he’d thought possible. But for a while having her in his life had made him forget the daily drudgery of acting CEO. She’d brought a welcome spark to his life and now that she’d ended it …
What was he doing sticking around? Going through the motions in another futile attempt at getting his dad’s approval? He should know better by now.
Time to move on.
There was nothing left for him here any more.
Swiping his hands down the sides of his jeans, he fished in his pocket for his mobile, almost dropping the thing when it rang.
‘Aidan Voss speaking.’
‘Aidan, it’s Dorothy MacPherson here, from the museum.’
Surprised a volunteer would be calling him, he stabbed the shovel into the dirt and propped a foot on it. ‘What can I do for you?’
‘I’ve got a bit of a problem. A transport company in the Northern Territory just rang, requesting up-front payment before they deliver those Aboriginal artefacts from some caves in Kakadu. And there’s no one here to authorise it so I don’t know what to do. They sounded pretty uptight and said it was urgent so—’
‘Have they faxed through an invoice?’
Dorothy paused before clearing her throat with a nervous little cough. ‘Um, yeah, but I think the amount is wrong. It’s exorbitant.’
See, this was why he couldn’t wait to throw in his CEO job. Beth had been right; he faced piddling problems on a daily basis when he’d rather be out in the scorching outback sun, caving in Kakadu himself.
Shutting his eyes, he visualised what it would be like.
He could almost taste the dry dust clogging his throat as it swirled in an ochre cloud as he bounced down a remote track in a four-wheel drive laden with his favourite tools.
He could almost see the mysterious caves, stark against a cloudless blue sky, beckoning a curious archaeologist to discover its hidden treasures.
He could almost feel the rough, craggy walls, the dirt trickling through his fingers, the bluster of hot wind at his back as he moved deeper into the caves.
‘Mr Voss?’
His eyes snapped open and as he took in his surroundings, a postcard-size, derelict backyard in suburban Melbourne, disappointment roiled in his gut, thick and heavy.
He gripped the handle of the shovel tightly, tiny splinters of wood driving into the newly formed calluses on his palm, yet he barely registered the sting. It had nothing on the disillusionment exploding through him, the agony of finally waking up and facing the truth.
He couldn’t do this any more.
He’d wanted to help Abe out, wanted to show him what sort of a job he could do, but this was crazy. He wasn’t happy in the job, he wasn’t happy in his personal life now he’d lost Beth.
There was nothing here for him now.
Propping on the shovel, he gripped his mobile to his ear with his other hand. ‘Don’t worry about the invoice, Dorothy. I’ll come in and take care of it. And thanks for contacting me. You did the right thing.’
‘Okay, Mr Voss. Bye.’
Snapping his phone shut, he thrust it into his pocket, picked up the shovel and moved over to the empty flower beds. He had a lot of digging to do to ease the driving urge to head to the airport this instant when he couldn’t, not till he’d sorted out a replacement at the museum.
At least he now knew what he had to do.
And when it was done, he’d be on the first plane out of here.
Beth trudged into the museum, her feet dragging.
She was so over this.
The sooner Lana threw away her crutches and took over the tours, the better. She’d much prefer hiding away in some storage room cataloguing items, away from prying eyes. In the meantime, she would suck it up, act like a big girl and try not to cringe over the stuff she’d said to Aidan.
Try as she might she couldn’t get his guarded expression out of her head when she’d told him she wanted more from him than he was willing to give. It had been like watching shutters spring up, effectively locking her out and wiping away what they’d shared in a second.
Then he’d had to go and rub her nose in it by suggesting they date for the short time he was here, expecting her to roll over and play nice before wishing him bon voyage.
She might have been mad enough to fall for him knowing the type of guy he was, but she wasn’t completely insane. If she felt like this now, imagine how much harder, deeper, she’d fall if they spent more time together.
Uh-uh, she couldn’t do it. Her live-life-for-the-moment motto had taken a severe beating, one from which she’d have a hard time recovering.
She had to go cold turkey to get over him, for, like the finest Brunetti chocolate, one taste had her addicted for life.
‘Hey, Beth, wait up.’
Sighing, she fixed her usual ‘all’s right with the world’ smile on her face, something she’d been doing her entire life, and turned to Dorothy.
‘Hi, Dot …’ The rest of her greeting died on her lips as she took in the young woman’s new shaggy haircut with highlights falling around her face in soft waves, coloured contact lenses, figure-enhancing bottle-green skirt suit and snappy black patent ballet flats.
‘Some tran
sformation, huh?’
‘You look fantastic.’
‘All thanks to you.’ Dorothy did a little pirouette, her confident smile growing by the minute. ‘You may not know a lot about the museum but you sure know fashion.’
‘You know I’m not really qualified to take tours, don’t you?’
Dorothy shrugged. ‘All I know is I’m surprised you got the job here when you seem a bit out of the loop.’
She laughed at Dorothy’s diplomacy. ‘You mean I stink, don’t you?’
‘Well, when you put it that way …’ Dorothy joined in her laughter and she beckoned her over to a secluded spot near the entrance.
‘My cousin Lana Walker is the new head curator. She got the job but sprained her ankle badly before she could start. I needed a job so she got me an interview with Abraham Voss and I got it, though he said I also had to fill in as tour guide until Lana’s back on her feet.’
Dorothy reached out and squeezed her arm and for the second time in as many hours she blinked back tears. ‘Considering your lack of knowledge, you’ve done great.’
Beth chuckled. ‘If you think I’m great, wait till you meet Lana.’
‘I can’t wait. We should have loads in common.’
Glancing at Dorothy’s trendy suit and subtle make-up, Beth doubted it.
‘It’ll be great for Lana to have a friend when she starts here. Maybe we can all go for a drink before she starts? There’s a new vodka ice bar I’ve been dying to try.’
Dorothy’s eyes lit up. ‘Sounds great.’
‘Okay, I’ll tee it up. Now, must dash. Tours to take, exhibits to be at.’
Dorothy chuckled and waved her off, while Beth turned towards the huge front doors, ready for another history lesson with the boss.
She could do this. After all, it wasn’t the first time she’d had to pretend all was right with the world when it wasn’t. And while her personal life might have just gone belly up, she didn’t need her job to follow suit.
Heading into one of the huge, cavernous storage areas behind the main gallery, she spied Aidan near a glass cabinet where a wooden glider resembling a pigeon was suspended.
She’d already read up on the Saqqara Glider and wanted to give him her spiel and get this history lesson over and done with asap.
Fixing a smile on her face as wooden as the weird birdlike thing behind the glass, she strode towards him, her heels clacking loudly against the marble tiled floor, his head snapping up as she neared.
Her heart stalled as the tantalising, sexy grin she’d grown to love kicked up the corners of his mouth, her knees turning to jelly as the familiar surge of heat whenever he looked at her flooded through her like a hot torrent of desire.
‘Right on time.’
He tapped his watch face, instantly transporting her back to the first day she’d walked into the museum and he’d pulled her up for being late. Then, like now, he’d looked as if he wanted to laugh despite his stiff CEO expression and she couldn’t help but wish she could turn back time and do things differently.
But would she? Could she have held their overwhelming attraction at bay, ignored the lick of heat whenever they got within two feet of each other? Unlikely, and besides, no use beating herself up over what was done.
She’d wanted to have a little fun. It wasn’t his fault she’d been stupid enough to fall for him.
‘I’ve got an extra tour scheduled in half an hour so can we make this quick?’
Her tone was cool, calm and she silently applauded herself on maintaining a professional front when inside she was dissolving with the agony of seeing him and not being able to touch.
His smile faded as he gestured her closer, where she promptly took up position on the opposite side of the cabinet, resting her arms on the top to peer in as if the glider were the most fascinating thing she’d ever seen.
‘You read my notes on this?’
‘Uh-huh.’
Though for the life of her, she couldn’t remember a thing as he stepped around the glass and stood next to her, the fine wool of his designer suit brushing her arm, sending a bolt of heat shooting through her so quick she had to grit her teeth to keep from crying out.
When the awkward silence grew, he sent her an uneasy glance. ‘Maybe I’ll give you a quick run-down and you can ask questions?’
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak as the faintest waft of blackcurrant drenched her in memories of his bare skin, her nose pressed into the nook of his neck, nuzzling him, drinking in his scent, never getting enough.
‘This was found in eighteen ninety-eight in a grave near the Egyptian city of Saqqara and catalogued. It dates to around two hundred BC but didn’t attract interest till an archaeologist in nineteen sixty-nine noticed its shape strongly resembled that of a modern glider.’
He cast her another quick glance but she didn’t move, her eyes fixed on the artefact, her head still spinning and her body still reacting from his nearness. ‘So of course the inevitable questions arose about whether the glider served as a model for real-life larger gliders and whether people of that time were familiar with the flight phenomenon.’
He finished his spiel and looked at her, expecting a response when all she could manage was a lame, ‘Uh-huh.’
His gaze roved her face, intense, scrutinising, searching for answers she’d already given him. What more did he want from her?
‘Beth, I’m leaving.’
It didn’t surprise her, she’d been expecting as much but it didn’t lessen the pain clamping her heart and squeezing hard.
‘Come with me,’ he blurted, his hand shooting out to grab hold of hers as if he expected her to bolt.
Impossible, considering her muscles had seized the moment he’d issued his invitation, the surge of inane joy dwindling to a trickle in an instant as she realised she couldn’t do it.
No matter how tempting, she couldn’t follow him to the ends of the earth on a whim.
She wanted more out of life now, had taken steps towards achieving her own dreams and she’d exterminated her travel bug around the time her dad had dumped her at Lana’s that last time, the month before he’d died: alone, in a grungy motel room, in some remote outback town.
She shook her head, using her hair as a shield, hoping he couldn’t read the regret on her face. ‘I can’t.’
‘Can’t or won’t?’
He’d flung her own words back in her face but it didn’t matter. Nothing he said could change her mind.
‘We need to give this a go, Beth. See where it could take us—’
‘I don’t want to follow you around to some far-off dig, waiting for whatever scraps of time you feed me at the end of a day. I want more than that. I want …’
She trailed off, aghast at the wave of emotion swamping her, encouraging her to say things better left unsaid.
‘What do you want?’
He tipped her chin up gently, his tenderness unravelling the last of her self-control and she jerked back, unable to stand this a second longer.
‘I want you to be happy,’ she said, swallowing the truth, tucking her head down and making a break for the door without looking back.
* * *
Aidan glanced around his office, not in the least surprised it didn’t look any different from when he’d first taken on the job. His few belongings lay scattered across the desk, which proved how he hadn’t settled in as much as he’d fooled himself into thinking.
Oh, yeah, this was the best decision for all of them, especially since Beth had made her feelings on accompanying him more than clear.
She was just like Fenella, turning her nose up at life on the digs, not willing to take a chance on him despite what he thought they’d shared.
He was better off without her, better off discovering the truth now before he made another mistake.
As for his dad … well, if Abe didn’t agree with his decision to leave now, tough.
His mobile rang on cue and he glanced at the caller, relieved Abe had ca
lled back and he could soon put all this behind him.
‘Thanks for getting back to me so quickly.’
‘Everything all right with the museum? Your message sounded serious.’
Aidan shook his head. Typical Abraham Voss. He could be dying a slow, painful death but the first thing dear old Dad thought about was his precious museum.
‘Everything’s fine here. I just wanted to let you know I’m leaving. I’ll give you two weeks to find a replacement then I’m out of here.’
Abe’s harsh intake of breath didn’t surprise him, nor did the explosive expletive.
‘What brought all this on? The museum needs you.’
He propped against the desk, his heart heavy. Even now, his father couldn’t give a fig about why he was really doing this; all he cared about was an inanimate building.
Time to come clean … about everything.
‘The only reason I took this job temporarily was to please you. It’s pretty much why I became an archaeologist, why I’ve done a lot of things in my life. It’s been the only way to get your attention half the time.’
Another muttered expletive followed by a loaded pause where he could almost hear the wheels in Abe’s self-absorbed mind turning.
‘This is ludicrous. Your mother and I have always cared about you.’
‘Yeah, but caring didn’t extend to you being there for my first day at school, or the time I made school captain or the time I was dux at uni. And it sure as hell doesn’t extend to you being happy for me now I’m going back to the job I love.’
‘Where’s all this coming from?’
As expected, his father’s audible confusion showed he didn’t have a clue.
‘Honestly? I should’ve said this a long time ago. Guess I had hopes you’d change after I helped you out. Not any more.’
To his surprise, he heard distress rather than the anger or defensiveness he’d expected. ‘Look, son, I know you like being out on the digs but I thought it would be good to give you a feel for being CEO, see if you liked it before I made any decisions.’
‘What sort of decisions?’
