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She put her fingers to her lips and stared at him out of huge shadowed eyes again.

He lifted his hands, then, as if on second thoughts, shoved them in his pockets. And the look in his eyes was brooding and sombre. ‘I should never have done that. I’m sorry.’

‘Please don’t say that,’ she whispered.

He gritted his teeth. ‘Alex, I must. I’ve got a lot of baggage, you’re probably aware of that more than most, and some pretty unpleasant water has passed under my bridge. Those are the only light years between us, but they’re crucial factors and they’d be more of a burden than any man in his right mind would want to place on you.’

He paused and his expression softened. ‘Whereas you’ve got it all in front of you, my dear. You can do it right, you will do it right, and once you find someone to love, someone to have children with, you need never be alone again.’

‘But—’

‘No, Alex.’ He shook his head. ‘You will always have my affection and I’ll never forget what you did for Nicky.’ He smiled but not with his eyes. ‘The other thing is, you look so lovely tonight, I wouldn’t have been the only man who wanted to kiss you.’

If she’d been rejected once tonight, Alex thought, this was even more comprehensive, and the shock of it saw silent tears well and stream down her cheeks.

Max Goodwin moved abruptly, but before he could do or say anything that was how Margaret Winston found them.

‘Oh, there you are, Mr Goodwin!’ Her expression was distressed as she came through the gate. ‘I’ve been searching high and low. Your absence is becoming noticeable—’ She broke off. ‘Why, Alex! What’s happened to you?’

‘Margaret, could you take care of Alex for me?’ Max said. ‘She’s—she needs a bit of help. In the meantime I’ll get back.’ He turned back to Alex and added gently, ‘Don’t go anywhere, don’t do anything, I’ll fix everything.’ He paused as he captured Alex’s gaze briefly. ‘Goodnight, my dear.’ And he turned and strode out.

‘Alex, are you sure you’re OK?’

It was morning-tea time the next day and they were having it on the terrace, when Margaret Winston asked that question.

There was little left to do to restore the Tuscan villa to its pre-dinner-dance spick and span and that was not surprising. A small army of cleaners had descended on the house almost from sun-up.

Alex sighed inwardly. She’d answered that question a few times already. ‘I’m fine, I promise you. I don’t know what got into me last night, but it’s over, really. And I’ve got Mrs Hill, I’ve got Nicky, I’ve got Nemo!’ she added with a spark of humour.

Margaret looked uncharacteristically severe. ‘I still can’t get over that woman doing this to Mr Goodwin.’

Alex poured a cup of fragrant herb tea into a delicate porcelain cup and watched it swirl before she put the silver teapot down as it occurred to her that Margaret Winston was one person who didn’t seem to have fond memories of Cathy Spencer. She shrugged. ‘Anyway, don’t feel guilty about going back to Brisbane. I’m sure Mr Goodwin needs you more than I do.’

‘Well …’ Margaret hesitated ‘.there are inevitably some loose ends to be tied up. He’s personally farewelling the delegation at the airport this afternoon, and he has a couple of press conferences scheduled for tomorrow.’ She stood up but hesitated. ‘If you’re really sure?’

Alex stood up too and hugged her impulsively. ‘Thank you. You’ve been so kind.’

Alex finished her tea on her own after Margaret’s departure.

Nicky and Brad, with Stan’s help, were constructing a cubby house and didn’t seem to need her at all.

She thought back to last night. Margaret had come up to her room with her and, after Alex had taken a shower, she’d brought her a cup of Milo.

Whether Margaret had formed her own conclusions about why she was in the state she was, Alex didn’t know, but, beyond reassuring herself it wasn’t a health issue, Margaret had probed no further.

She probably guessed, Alex thought as she sipped her tea and curled her feet up under her in the basket chair. It had to have been fairly obvious. She’d not only been weeping, she’d probably been looking shell-shocked and she had just been comprehensively kissed.

What she’d managed to hide from Margaret this morning was the fact that she still felt shell-shocked. She could never forget that kiss. Just thinking about it made her pulses hammer and reminded her of how she’d felt during it, and not only the physical thrills, but the reaching-for-the-stars joy it had brought her.

Then that terrible plunge back to earth.

There was also the burning question of what happened now. He’d said he’d fix everything, he’d obviously driven back to Brisbane last night, but was there any point in her not taking matters into her own hands?

Should she stay? If she stayed she would somehow have to contain her feelings for Max Goodwin, but she’d made that decision once before, only to have it rebound on her in a matter of days. And what would she get out of staying?

She moved restlessly. Just to be near him, just to be there for him, perhaps a backstop for Nicky—no. That wouldn’t be going forward, it would be standing still, it would be inviting all sorts of trauma, but.

She drank her tea and pushed the cup and saucer away.

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