Incoherent mumbling and a slight readjustment of her head against the headrest looked suspiciously like she’d fallen asleep. Loathe to wake her, he turned the radio down low.
The veranda light came on. Jessie walked to the top of the steps and peered out towards his car. Dan chuckled. Amy’s mother probably assumed they were saying goodnight as couples do.
He sighed and opened his door. Sitting in the car all night while Amy slept curled up on his seat might sound romantic, but would do neither of them any good. Carefully, he opened her door, undid her seatbelt and lifted her out. She snuggled into his neck but didn’t stir as he carried her into her house.
“Is she okay?” Jessie always seemed to hover around her children. No wonder Amy felt she had no personal space.
“Exhausted. She fell asleep in the car on the way home from Terri and Johnno’s place. If you show me where her bedroom is—”
Jessie gave him an odd look. “I thought you—never mind. Last on the right.”
At the end of the hallway, he eased the door open with his foot and entered Amy’s bedroom. A queen-sized bed stood in the centre of a large room with French doors opening onto the back veranda. Under other circumstances, he’d have been delirious to find himself in here with Amy. Alone. At night or anytime.
“I’ll turn down the covers before you put her to bed.” Bustling past him, Jessie pulled back the white waffle blanket to reveal pale blue sheets and turned on a funky, modern bedside lamp.
Dan set Amy down on her bed and eased off her sandals before pulling a sheet up to her waist. Streaks of golden hair caught the soft light from the lamp as she turned her head into her pillow. As much as he’d enjoy staying, watching her sleep, holding her, he hadn’t been invited. Ever.
“I’d better be going then. Night, Jessie.”
Jessie put a hand on his arm and smiled. Hazel eyes of a darker shade than her daughter’s looked up at him. “Dan, you don’t have to pretend with me.”
“What do you mean?”
“Amy’s a grown woman. That was really sweet of you, asking which was her room, but we’re not old-fashioned. If you’re used to staying the night here, please don’t go on our account.” Jessie turned and walked out, pulling the door closed behind her.
Which left him in a quandary.
To stay or not to stay? What a question. Expectation and his own desire warred with what he knew was right.
He ran his hand through his hair and headed for the door. Without Amy’s invitation, it was wrong, regardless of her family’s expectations. If Jessie was in the lounge, he’s just tell her he had to be up early and didn’t want to disturb Amy.
“Dan?” Amy’s sleepy voice stopped him in his tracks.
He sat on the edge of the bed and tucked her hair behind her ears. God, she was lovely. “What’s up, Sleeping Beauty?”
Struggling to keep her eyes open, she held his hand in both of hers. “You haven’t kissed me goodnight.”
“Are you saying you want me to kiss you? There’s nobody here to see us.” And he wouldn’t take advantage of a sleepy woman. When he kissed Amy, he wanted her wide awake, knowing it was him, a flesh and blood man who desired her.
She tucked his hand beneath her cheek and looked at him. “Kiss me, Dan.”
Her light floral perfume teased his senses, and she knew whose hand she held. Exulting in her subconscious desire for him, he kissed her forehead. Beneath his lips her skin was soft and warm.
Her hand slipped behind his head and she ran her fingers through his hair. Sleepy-eyed, her gaze connected with his before she tilted her head.
Dan defied any man to resist the petition of her sweet mouth. Softly, he kissed her lips, revelling in the closeness, resisting the urge to deepen it. Drawing his hand from beneath her cheek, he raised their joined hands and dropped a kiss into her palm before closing her fingers over it. For such a chaste kiss, he felt ridiculously happy.
“That’s for sweet dreams. Goodnight, Amy.” He turned off the lamp and tiptoed from her bedroom.
Chapter Twelve
Amy slipped her hand into Dan’s as they walked through the backstage door into a hum of voices and bustle of activity. “I wonder how Terri’s feeling about the first dress rehearsal?”
Dan gently squeezed her hand and linked their fingers as they skirted the props table. A couple of the boys from the workshop appeared carrying two painted palm tree cut outs. Dan drew her into a small space between a papier mâché rock and the wall, giving the boys room to manoeuvre the awkward shapes in the crowded area. Wedged into the tiny space, his cologne wafted around her, teasing her into inappropriate awareness of him. At times like this, she almost forgot their pretence. As Dan’s knuckles brushed her thigh, darts of longing for more than he could give made her turn away before she forgot they were playing roles both on and off stage.
Beyond the black curtains they’d helped Terri hang last night as temporary wings, two loud thuds echoed followed by Terri’s raised voice.
“Not there, upstage means the back of the stage, not the front. Do you think that stage plan shoved in your pocket is directions to dinner? Read the plan—please!”
“Sorry, boss.” Dave’s reply was cheeky, but respectful. The boys adored Terri and she’d had no trouble enlisting a workforce for the weekend set up.
“From the sound of that, I’d guessTerri is—stressed? Come on, we should get out there and help.”
Amy took a deep breath and reminded herself they had work to do as she followed Dan. They edged around the papier mâché rock that took them in front of a painted scene of sea and beach.
Mike jumped out from behind the flat, yelling a challenge and striking a pose like a Maori warrior doing the haka.
Amy squealed and jumped back.
“Gotcha, Tweety Bird!” Mike grinned and strutted around, beating his bare chest like a giant gorilla.
Dan’s hands gripped her shoulders and held her against his chest. His long, lean length plastered to her back set her heart thudding harder than Mike’s prank. She raised a hand to her chest and leaned back. For a handful of moments, she committed to memory the feeling of his body against hers.
Dan released his hold and stepped back.
What was wrong with her? They were friends, not lovers. Her silly manoeuvre had probably made him uncomfortable.
A chorus of laughter rose behind them and Amy looked over Dan’s shoulder. A group of women from the office and a couple of young apprentices stood in two groups. Dressed in plastic grass skirts and bikini tops, and boardies, they exuded energy and excitement and fun.
Terri appeared onstage behind Mike. “What’s with the jungle noises from you lot?”
Mike leaned against the props table and whistled like he was completely innocent. “Hi, Terri.”
Terri sighed. “I might have known you’d be at the centre of any hijinks, Michael Maguire. Now, make like the wind and blow on stage. Rehearsal begins in two minutes.”
“Yes, memsahib.”
“Amy, hi, I need you. And Mr Music, get your A into G—please.”
Dan sat in solitary splendour behind his sound and lighting desk at the rear of the hall and adjusted the brightness of the side spotlight. Amy’s skit was going surprisingly well for a first dress rehearsal. She’d used Mike’s extrovert nature cleverly and given him the chance to shine.
It was an innate part of her nature to give everyone a chance, like she’d given him. Except when she threw herself completely into the role, she was likely to make him forget they were pretending.
Like when she’d jumped into his arms after Mike had jumped out and scared her. As he held her, and the sweet scent of Amy filled his nose, he’d all but forgotten they were surrounded by people. And when she pressed back in his arms, he had to ease away or risk her feeling how much he really wanted her.
“Hey, Dan?” Terri’s voice cut through his reverie.
With a start, Dan realised the music had ended while he’d been lost in thoughts o
f Amy’s backside pressed against his groin.
“Can you dim the spot? I want to talk through that last act before we run it again.”
“Sure, Terri.” He dimmed the lights and sat back, flexing his fingers and stretching his arms above his head.
A hand slid over his shoulder and a soft curvy chest pressed against his back.
Amy. He reached behind him and encountered a rounded bottom that gave him ideas of where he’d prefer to be right now. He squeezed lightly and turned his head.
A whiff of heavily spiced perfume reached him as a mouth—not Amy’s soft lips—touched his neck. He jumped up and turned quickly, knocking his chair over with a crash that drew all eyes to him.
And Sharyn standing beside him with a feline smirk and bikini strap slipping down one shoulder.
“Dan, are you okay?” Amy hurried over, her gaze flicking between him and Sharyn.
“I’m fine. Sharyn got me like Mike got you earlier.” Dan deliberately raised his voice. From the stage, a few people laughed.
Tess applauded and called out, “Goodone, Shazza.”
Terri clapped her hands and recalled attention to her. “From now on, can we leave the practical jokes at the stage door? In seven days, we have a fully booked out fundraiser and one full dress rehearsal between now and then.”
Murmurs of agreement floated among the ensemble as Sharyn climbed the side steps of the stage. As the cast turned their attention back to the director, Sharyn cast Dan a look that was pure sexual invitation.
Cold sweat ran down his spine and memories of Carissa and Gosford roared back. Anger and worry mixed together and bile rose in the back of his throat. It couldn’t be happening again. Not here, not now he’d found Amy. Hands clenched on the desk, his lungs struggled to pull in enough air. Would Amy understand? Would she believe he hadn’t initiated anything with Sharyn? How could she?
And then Amy was standing in front of him. She held his hands and turned him away from the stage. “Dan?”
As his vision cleared and he looked into her worried eyes, the band around his chest eased.
“I thought it was you behind me.”
“Oh, and I made you fall out of your chair?”
“No, I mean I thought it was you at first. But you don’t wear heavy perfume and then when I realised it wasn’t you—”
“You tipped your chair over. Okay.”
“Amy, I didn’t encourage her. I swear I didn’t even know she was there.”
“I get it.” Her thumbs stroked across the backs of his hands. “Terri looks like she needs you now.”
He drew a deep breath and nodded.
Amy sat at the tiny stage manager’s desk behind the bamboo screen and sorted out her rehearsal notes. She had a couple of cue changes for Dan when he finished packing up his sound system and a list for Terri. Several friends had stopped at the desk and invited her and Dan to join them for a drink when they finished. “We’ll see how we go.”
As another pair of footsteps strolled past beyond her line of sight, she readied a smile in case they stopped to wish her goodnight.
“I give it a month, max.” Tess’s whiny voice carried through the curtain.
“That’s being generous. Two weeks, tops.” Sharyn always had the last word.
Wondering who Sharyn had her claws out for this time, Amy’s mouth snapped shut.
As the women’s shoes clattered over the wooden floor towards the exit, Sharyn’s voice carried back. “She couldn’t hold Derek’s interest, and she won’t hold the doctor’s for much longer. Not after tonight. He needs a real woman, not a trouser-wearing frigid female. The miracle is he even looked at her in the first place.”
Their voices faded as the outer door closed behind them.
Chest tight, the edges of her vision blurred. Anger, long suppressed, surged through her.
Beside her, Dan dumped his armload and took her hands. He eased the pen from her grip and dropped it onto her clipboard before taking hold of her shoulders and drawing her to her feet. “Amy, look at me. Don’t give her words more weight than they deserve.”
“I don’t give a snap for Sharyn. Or Derek. He wasn’t the man I thought he was.”
“Probably not. But—”
“Forget it, Dan. This was a stupid idea from the start.” She pulled away from him and ran. Anywhere was better than facing Dan’s sympathy and pity. Out in the car park, she looked around for her ute before remembering Dan had given her a lift.
The backstage door opened and banged shut followed by the sound of boots crunching over the gravel parking area. “Amy, why did you run away?”
“Just leave me alone. I’m going home.” She strode towards the gate. The way she was feeling, the walk home might help to burn off some of her crazy frustration and anger.
Dan didn’t know whether to be more angry with Sharyn or himself. How could he have embarked on this crazy scheme with Amy and not considered the consequences? There were always consequences and if he couldn’t convince Amy to take a chance on him, she would be the one ridiculed.
He’d promised he wouldn’t hurt her but being with him had put her in Sharyn’s firing line.
He reversed out of the parking space and pulled out onto the street. A few metres ahead, Amy was striding out as though on a field march. He eased alongside her and lowered the windows.
“Amy, please get in the car.”
“Go away.”
“I’ll take you home, or for a coffee, whatever you want, just get in the car.”
“I don’t want anything. Just leave me alone.”
Ahead of them, the local park stretched for a block. Tall trees cast deep patches of shadow the streetlights didn’t penetrate.
He pulled ahead a little way and got out of his car. Clicking the remote lock, he stepped out in front of Amy. She tried to side step and he moved to block her escape.
“Get out of my way, damn it.” Her voice broke and she veered off into the playground. Stalking up to one of the picnic tables, she sat on the top and pulled her legs up onto the seat.
Dan sat beside her and waited. Gradually his eyes adjusted to the low light. He could just make out the line of her jaw and the white of her eyes. “Can we at least talk?”
“What’s the point? It’s not like we’re a real couple.”
“I know we started out pretending but—”
“But what? You can’t change how things are. And you know what else? When you break up with me, I’ll be stuck with that whole ‘poor Tweety Bird, can’t keep a decent relationship going more than a week’ crap.”
“Amy, I won’t let that happen. I promise.”
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”
That was the problem. He couldn’t control what Sharyn or anyone did. But he could damn well help Amy to deal with it. He’d got her into this and, no matter what it took, he’d make things better.
“You overheard something you weren’t meant to and now you’re just going to give up, and let a spiteful woman like Sharyn win?”
“What do you expect me to do? I won’t stoop to her level and get into a slanging match.”
“Of course not. But I want us to show her how wrong she is.” Exactly how he’d do that he didn’t have a clue. Yet. But no one was going to say those sorts of things to Amy and get away with it.
“And how do you propose we do that?”
“Leave it to me. Just promise to go with the flow, okay?” He reached for Amy’s hand. At least she didn’t pull out of his clasp. But she didn’t lean into him as she had on other occasions.
“Why do I have a feeling I’m going to regret this?”
Chapter Thirteen
Combined with annual health checks, the clinic in the remote indigenous settlement had occupied most of the day. Dan swabbed the last child’s arm then gave the five-year-old his injection.
“There you go, young fella. All done.” Dan smiled at the boy and pressed a dinosaur Band-Aid over the speck of blood.
L
uminous dark brown eyes peered up at him and the child shoved four fingers into his mouth before being scooped up by his young mother. She looked up shyly at Dan. “Thanks, doc. You good bloke. Tommy didn’t like the other doc. He ran away and didn’t get his needle last time.”
“Well, he’s up to date now, Elise.” Dan took a green lollypop from the jar supplied by the RFDS for immunisation clinics and offered it to the child. “Would you like this, Tommy?”
The boy nodded and reached for the treat. He clutched it in his fist then buried his face in his mother’s shoulder. As she reached the door, Tommy peeped over her shoulder and gave Dan a shy grin.
This was what his vocation was about, and the sense of rightness, of being where he was meant to be, settled over Dan. His grandfather had known the joy of service as a Flying Doctor back in the 1960s, and Dan’s mother was still servicing a rural community in Central Queensland. Why had he settled for the Gosford job when rural medicine was in his DNA? Especially when that decision had cost him some of his integrity.
He pushed away the negative thought and focused on packing away his clinic. It was high time he got back to the joy of his job. Like Elise and young Tommy.
A light tap on the open door heralded Amy’s arrival. “Hi, Dan. All finished?”
“Yep. This is the last box.”
“Can I carry something for you? We need to get a move on.” There was a definite edge to her voice, not annoyance but a thread of concern.
Dan paused in his packing and met her gaze. Definitely concern. “Did I run overtime? Sorry.”
“No, but there’s a thunderstorm moving in. I’ll have to take the long way home and there’s a chance we won’t get around it.” Amy picked up two medi-containers and headed for the door. “I’ve done my pre-flight checks. We’ll take off as soon as you’re on board.”
Ten minutes later, Dan strapped himself in beside Amy. The view from the cockpit was stunning. And worrying. Thunderheads towered, a brilliant, glowing white barrier across the way home. Lightning flashed deep within the cloud mountains and bolts pulsed like heartbeats. Flickers of concern raced down Dan’s spine and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. “Something wicked this way comes,” he muttered.
Just One Kiss (Hearts of the Outback Book 1) Page 9
