Chapter Three

      Sam Dale loaded another box into Bethany’s hatchback. “Are you sure you have enough stuff in here? I can tie the refrigerator to the back if you like.”

      Bethany pulled a face at him. “Very funny. It only looks like a lot because it’s a small car. I didn’t pack too much because I’ll only be at Yarrawong until Nicholas Frakes finds someone compatible to take care of Maree permanently.”

      “Compatible with whom?”

      To her annoyance Bethany felt herself redden. “With the baby, of course. He isn’t the slightest bit interested in me, only in how well I get along with Maree.” How could he be interested in Bethany after being involved with a famous beauty like Lana Sinden?

      Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Are you sure he isn’t interested in you? Forgive my suspicious mind, and I’ll probably hate myself for admitting this, but you are an attractive female, even if you are my little sister. I don’t like the idea of you moving in with a virtual stranger.”

      “I’m going to work for him, not move in with him, as you put it,” Bethany denied. Her brother’s compliment, instead of his usual merciless teasing, was a measure of his concern for her. She draped an arm around his shoulders, although she had to reach up a good eight inches to do so. “Relax, big brother. In the first place, twenty-five isn’t so little anymore. And in the second, when I called his professional organization, they acted as if I wanted a reference for God.”

      Sam whirled her off her feet, then set her down again. “At least I’ve taught you some sense over the years. What does this guy do, anyway?”

      She frowned, recalling what she had learned. “This guy as you call him is Dr. Nicholas Frakes, Ph.D., and he does consulting work in acoustical engineering for the government. I gather most of his work is classified, but it has something to do with measures to counteract military and industrial eavesdropping.”

      Sam grinned. “So walls really do have ears these days?”

      “So it seems. All you have to do is point the right laser gadget at a building to hear everything that’s going on inside.”

      “Maybe I should hire one and park myself outside your new boss’s, property.”

      She threw a beach towel at him. “Go wash your mind out with soap.”

      Sam’s grin widened as he snatched the towel out of midair. “You’re attracted to the good doctor, aren’t you?”

      “Of course not.” The denial sounded forced even to her own ears.

      “Then why are you going to work for him. If it’s only the money there are lots of jobs you can do right here in Melbourne, without marooning yourself in the hills.”

      Bethany had asked herself the same question many times in the few days since she accepted Nicholas’s proposition. Sam didn’t know how desperate she was for money right now, and she had no intention of telling him. He would bankrupt himself before letting her struggle, which was precisely why he couldn’t know the full extent of her problems. His fledgling furniture-making business was far from prosperous, and although she had no doubt it would be one day, for now he needed every cent of his capital to keep his own business afloat.

      He was right, it wasn’t only money that attracted her to working for Nicholas Frakes. The salary he had offered would solve a lot of her problems, and being able to write about the Frakes Baby House was also a coup, but it still didn’t explain why she felt such a strong need to accept the job.

      In Nicholas’s kitchen she had experienced a real sense of belonging, of being accepted without judgment—something her recent experience with Alexander Kouros had made her wonder if she would ever know again. She had been so sure she and Alexander had had a future, although now that she thought about it, his voluble, multigeneration family had always overwhelmed her a little. She was used to large families, but the sense of tradition pervading the Kouros household was stronger than anything in her own family.

      Among the Dales, people were accepted on their own merits, innocent until proven guilty and even then cut a considerable amount of slack. Alexander’s father ruled his family with an iron hand, making it clear that Alexander, as the oldest son, would carry on the family’s catering business and most important of all, the family name.

      In front of everyone, Stavros and Ellie, Alexander’s father and mother, had happily discussed their future daughter-in-law’s breeding potential. Bethany’s full hips, a source of annoyance to her for years, had pleased them as a sign that she could bear many strong, healthy sons.

      It had never occurred to any of them that her hips were the only part of her suited to childbearing. Unknown to anyone including Bethany herself until she needed a checkup for a minor complaint, her ability to have children had been destroyed by the aftereffects of a ruptured appendix in her teens.

      She had expected Alexander to be as devastated as she was, but she had also expected his love and support. When he learned that surgery offered her a less than thirty percent chance of removing the scar tissue, he had urged her to go ahead although she explained that the operation couldn’t guarantee she would ever be able to conceive.

      She would never forget his disgusted expression when she had suggested fostering or adopting children as her own parents had done.

      “They would not have Kouros blood,” he had said, unconsciously echoing his father’s arrogant tones. “It is not a viable alternative.” Then he had walked out.

      She had accepted that it was over but hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. Finding out she would never have a baby of her own was bad enough, but Alexander’s rejection had made her feel like damaged goods. The pain still dragged at her, and she knew that her motive to accept Nicholas’s offer was as much for the chance to remind herself of all she still had to offer as it was to solve her financial worries.

      Her reverie was interrupted by a shrill call from Bethany’s first-floor window. It was Amanda, Sam’s current girlfriend, who’d come along supposedly to help with the packing, but had spent most of the time drinking coffee and looking decorative. “Telephone for you, Beth. It’s Nick Frakes.”

      Bethany gritted her teeth. “Coming.” To Sam, she said, “Can’t you convince Mandy that I hate being called Beth?” She enjoyed it about as much as she imagined Nicholas would like being referred to as Nick.

      Sam shrugged. “I’ve told her but she forgets.”

      “What does she call you?”

      “What do you think? Samuel, of course.”

      Maybe