CHAPTER TWO

      THAT night Melanie couldn’t sleep. Probably because she hadn’t been able to bring herself to change the sheets. Stupid. Even worse, she’d left off her night-shirt and slipped naked into bed.

       She breathed in the lingering scent of Luke’s hair on her pillow. Luke had slept here; his hot skin had rubbed over this very spot. Had he been restless too? Had he tossed and turned, maybe subconsciously remembering her scent?

       The sheet’s texture abraded the sensitive parts of her body. The suddenly overly sensitive parts of her body. She felt like a ripe peach—one fingertip on the right spot and she’d explode right out of her over-tight skin.

       Sighing, she moved to a cooler patch of the bed in an effort to ease the aching fullness and tried to concentrate on the soothing patter of light rain against the window. Luke had always been able to turn her on with just a look.

       It took a very good man to make that happen, in her opinion, even if she’d only ever had two other men before him to make a comparison. And Luke had been very good at his work. Dear Lord, she huffed, plumping her pillow for the umpteenth time. He’d woken the dormant nymphomaniac in her.

       She hadn’t been with a man since Luke. She’d come close on more than one occasion—after all, she’d told herself she needed to move on with her life, but in those three short months Luke had changed her. In so many ways.

       But then she’d never been involved with anyone like Luke, who was older and more worldly…and rich. What did she know about wealth? Even now she couldn’t balance her own cheque book.

       He’d wanted her for sex. Hadn’t he all but told her that this morning? And she wasn’t ashamed to admit she’d been only too willing to oblige. But when it came to anything more serious, he’d made no secret about wanting a family. On the other hand, Melanie felt too young to settle down and wanted so much more than to settle in the suburbs with a couple of kids and play at being a rich man’s wife.

       Not that he’d have ever asked her. She knew the kind of women Luke preferred for that role. As a functions waitress, she’d seen him with elegant females in formal classic attire before he’d ever noticed her. Well-bred women who’d give him equally well-bred children.

       She’d told herself it didn’t hurt, it didn’t matter, that their lives were never going to mesh, why not just enjoy the ride for as long as it lasted? But it did hurt, she’d discovered on that final night.

       It had been hot, she remembered, with the window open and the air alive with summer sounds and scents. Luke had rolled off her, leaving her sweat-damp skin cooling in the night air.

       He’d blown out a satisfied breath. ‘That was—’

       ‘Yes. It was.’ She closed her eyes a moment to savour the last time she’d feel his body against hers. ‘But now I guess it’s over, huh?’ Words she’d thought would be easy caught in her throat, which suddenly seemed unbearably tight.

       She felt him tense beside her. ‘Over? Why?’

       ‘No promises on either side, Luke. Wasn’t that what you wanted? Just hot, uncomplicated sex.’

       ‘Uncomplicated?’ His voice rasped against her ear. ‘You’re the most complicated woman I know.’ He frowned as he rose from the bed, a bronzed god. An angry god. Angry because she’d found out what he’d conveniently kept from her the whole time they’d been together? ‘What’s wrong?’

       She sat up, dragging the sheet with her. ‘I worked a ladies’ luncheon today. Apparently your wedding’s going to be the social event of the season—’

       His eyes glinted with something like menace. ‘Care to fill me in on who the bride is?’ His voice was controlled but the muscle tick in his rigid jaw told another story.

       ‘That girl, Eleanor with the fancy surname—they had a photo of the two of you together.’

       ‘McDonald-Smythe. Hearsay, Mel.’ The bed dipped as he sat down beside her and cupped her elbows. ‘Don’t you know how the upper class loves to spread gossip and lies?’

       ‘You want to talk about lies?’ She tried to shake him off but his grip was relentless. ‘Why did they have a picture of the two of you at the Melbourne Cup?’

       He closed his eyes briefly. To remember or think up an excuse?

       ‘That was November,’ he said. ‘You and I’d gotten together—what—a week earlier? You knew I flew to Melbourne for the day. I met up with a lot of people, I didn’t think you needed a detailed inventory.’

       No. But there had been other times in those three short months when he’d gone interstate for job interviews, or off somewhere on business. He’d never asked her to accompany him.

       It simply highlighted what had been clear from the outset. ‘A waitress isn’t in your family’s grand plan for you.’ She jerked free of his hands and this time he let her go.

       He looked away, obviously aware of the truth in her statement but refusing to acknowledge what was expected of him. ‘What about my plans?’ His face darkened, the veins in his neck stood out like ropes. ‘As it happens I’ve been offered a geological position in central Queensland. And I’m taking it.’

       In the beat of angry silence that followed she held her breath. He inhaled, as if to add something, then paused. Why didn’t he just say it? she screamed silently. It’s been fun but now it’s over.

       She gritted her teeth. That was how it was supposed to have been for both of them. So why did it feel so bad?

       ‘Well, then, that’s good timing.’ She heard the unnaturally high tone in her voice as she reached for her clothes. She might think the bottom had fallen out of her inexperienced little world, but it hadn’t—she wouldn’t let it. ‘I heard there are jobs going up north at a new resort.’ She didn’t look at him but hardened and cemented her resolve. Better to leave than be left. Deep down she knew she’d never fit into his life. She couldn’t compete with the rich women who surrounded him.

       ‘Is that what you want, Mel?’ she heard him say behind her.

       ‘It’s time to move on,’ she said, turning towards him but not looking at him, hiding behind an over-bright smile and careless shrug. ‘The thing is, I’ve realised we’re too different to make anything more of what we have. We had some great times but it was never going to be