Dreaming Of... Australia. Annie West

That made her feel like an old spinster at twenty-five. ‘Young. Is that a Catholic thing?’

      ‘It’s a Gregory thing. We don’t believe in wasting time.’

      His smile was gentle, and she grew aware of how big he was in the cramped seat next to her. Her heart kicked up She shook her head to stay focussed. ‘How did you even know who you were at twenty-one, let alone each other?’

      ‘I knew. Plus Mel had been a fixture in my family for a long time because of her friendship with my brother.’ He studied the digital recorder and didn’t quite meet her eyes, making her wonder if there was more to that story.

      ‘How does she feel about the work you do?’

      Pained creases appeared above his brow. ‘It bothers her. The hours. The disruption to our routine. She’s a creature of habit.’

      ‘You being at such risk?’

      She’d never seen eyelashes flinch, but Sam’s did. ‘She doesn’t like thinking she could be widowed. The financial uncertainty. I get that.’

      The warm glow inside her responded to the misery in his voice. Defending his wife was automatic. Could he hear what he was admitting? Melissa wasn’t worried about losing him, only her husband, and apparently a large chunk of the household income. ‘You never considered giving up the Search and Rescue stuff?’

      He lifted his eyes. ‘When we have kids. Yes.’

      ‘Which haven’t come?’

      She knew it was a mistake before the words even left her mouth, but he didn’t react. Not the way he had to her suggestion his marriage wasn’t solid. This time it was totally unconscious—a deep pain in his eyes. It hurt her to see it. She shifted tangent smoothly.

      ‘You live in Hobart?’

      He picked up the new direction gratefully. ‘Mel’s work has its head office there, so it was a necessary move for her research.’

      Necessary. Word choices like that often led her to the true grit in someone’s story. If only she had the courage to pursue it. On anyone else she wouldn’t have hesitated … But every urge she had to dig into Sam’s life suddenly felt loaded and a bit wrong. She hedged instead. ‘Quite an achievement, given her young age.’

      ‘She was so excited the day she told me she’d been successfully promoted. It had been a long time since I’d seen her so animated.’

      ‘You were happy to move? Away from your family?’

      The look he gave her was pointed. And conflicted. ‘We both thought it would be a good idea for us to … start our own lives. Somewhere different.’

      ‘Must have been tough.’ And there must have been another reason.

      The plane engines were too loud to waste effort with empty words. He just nodded.

      ‘But you had each other. That’s something.’

      His nod continued, shadows lingering around his gaze. But then they cleared as if by conscious effort. He came fully back to the present. She grew almost uncomfortable under his steady regard as his eyes lifted.

      ‘You’re very easy to talk to, Aimee.’

      The compliment warmed her and filled her body with helium. But she wasn’t about to take it to heart. She couldn’t afford to. ‘People say that. I guess it’s because you have no emotional stake in me. Like talking to a bartender.’

      He snorted. ‘You don’t go to many bars, obviously.’

      She wrinkled her nose. ‘No, not many. Does that not happen?’

      ‘Not outside of the movies.’

      ‘Oh.’

      ‘Besides, it’s not exactly true, Aimee.’ Blue heat simmered.

      ‘What’s not?’

      ‘We’re hardly strangers,’ he said. ‘We’ve been through a lot. I … we’re friends. Aren’t we? No matter how unconventional our meeting was.’

      She hesitated to speak, fearing that if she opened her mouth the echo of her hard-hammering heart would come out instead of words. She nodded.

      ‘So it’s not true that I have no emotional stake in you at all.’

      Her breath caught around the thumping in her chest. What in the world was she supposed to say to that?

      ‘Plus there’s …’ His hooded gaze was crowded with every thought running through his mind as he deliberated. He reached out and turned off the mini recorder. ‘The Kiss.’

      Mortified warmth flared through her whole body. Had she really expected the topic to never to come up? She’d spent a lot of time analysing that kiss these past months, reliving it. And though she’d had a hard time regretting giving in to the impulse—even once she knew about the existence of Mrs Gregory—she was sorry for the way she’d forced it on him.

      But she’d never expected it to earn uppercase status in his mind. The Kiss. And she’d really never expected him to raise it so openly.

      She struggled for the right words. ‘That was my fault, Sam.’

      ‘I wasn’t chasing an apology. But I think we need to talk about it. Get it out of the way.’

      Really? She just wanted to pretend it had never happened. ‘I’m not sure examining it is going to explain it. I was overwhelmed with fear and you were the one keeping me sane. I just needed the … human contact.’

      Did she get any points for half-truths? Or did she lose one for the half she was hiding?

      ‘Aimee, you don’t need to justify why you did it.’

      She frowned. ‘Then why raise it?’

      He glanced around them at the half-empty plane and then leaned in. ‘Because it’s stayed with me.’

      She stared at him, her breath thinning. Her mental oxygen mask dropped down. ‘Stayed?’

      ‘I was on the job. You were hurting. I totally understand why you did it. But what I don’t understand …’ his blue eyes pierced hers ‘… is why I let you.’

      Her tongue threatened to stick so firmly to her palate that it would be impossible to speak. She was sitting on a plane, heading for a hotel in a different city with a married man she’d non-consensually kissed, taking about said kiss….

      She squirmed. ‘I didn’t really give you much option—’

      ‘You were tied to your seat. I could have moved out of your reach easily. Why didn’t I?’ His stare burned into her. ‘And why haven’t I forgotten it?’

      It was hardly going to be uncontrollable lust—for a woman covered in blood and dirt and soaked in her own urine. She stared at him and shook her head: silent, lost.

      The chief steward’s even tones streamed out of the overhead speakers, advising passengers that they were commencing their descent into Melbourne. She had no idea what he expected. So she did the only appropriate thing.

      She brushed it off with a hollow laugh.

      ‘A mystery for the ages!’

      His eyes narrowed. ‘It doesn’t bother you?’

      Time to lie! ‘It bothers me that I did it. I’m embarrassed, of course.’

      ‘But that’s all?’

      Time to run! She unclasped her seatbelt. ‘I’m just going to … Before we land. I’ll be right back.’

      But before she’d made it to the next row she heard him behind her. ‘We’re going to have to talk about it at some point, Aimee.’

      She fled. Down the aisle and