Happy Mother's Day!

‘So you are not one of that breed who chase celebrities?’

‘God, no, nothing like that. I did think once I might like to do more …’ She heard the wistful enthusiasm in her voice and stopped. ‘Family circumstances keep me close to home.’

‘You have a dependent family?’

‘Not the way you mean,’ she said, thinking that, even had she wanted to, it would have been hard to explain the set-up at home.

Erin had been in her teens before she had realised that other people’s fathers did not regularly leave home. She believed the generic term for men like her father was serial adulterer. Jack Foyle always came back suitably contrite, and was always forgiven. But during his absences her mother would go to pieces and become totally unable to cope.

If she hadn’t always been there to coax her out of the darkened room and her talk of being unable to go on Erin dreaded to think what would have happened.

She was conscious of his dark eyes on her face as she pretended to examine her camera, but he did not press the point. But then, she reflected, why should he? The domestic circumstances of some accident-prone tourist could hardly interest him.

She flickered a sideways glance in his direction as he turned the ignition. His stern profile was quite stunningly perfect. Ironically he had a face that screamed out to be photographed, though whether any film could capture the raw masculinity he exuded was doubtful.

All the same she would have liked to try.

He turned his head and caught her staring and Erin lowered her gaze.

‘There’s water somewhere.’ He banged a lever with his fist and a door dropped down revealing a bottle of water.

Erin’s throat was so dry it hurt and she nodded her thanks. The bottle was ice-cold in her fingers as she lifted it to her mouth and took a long swallow, then with a sigh she rested the cool plastic against her throat.

‘Better?’

She turned her head and nodded, then frowned suspiciously as she realised what he was doing. ‘Why are you turning around?’

‘Because you were going in the wrong direction. Did you really plan to walk all the way back?’

Erin, unwilling to reveal she hadn’t actually had a plan, shrugged. ‘My friends would have come looking for me eventually.’

‘The same friends you had to escape from?’

The reminder that she had used him as a sounding-board to offload all the frustrations made her squirm in her seat and avoid his eyes. ‘When I said that I didn’t think you could understand me.’

‘No, you thought I was beautiful and stupid, but I was forgetting you prefer the sensitive types. Do you have one on the scene at the moment?’

Erin, her cheeks burning with embarrassment, glared at him with loathing. ‘I’d tell you what I really think of you, but I’m too polite,’ she choked. ‘Not that you’d know what good manners were if they bit you.’

‘You know,’ he mused, slowing as they approached a hairpin bend in the road, ‘I think you actually like me.’ His dark gaze brushed her face. ‘You’re just in denial.’

Her scornful laugh locked in her throat; his comment was too close to the truth to joke about. ‘I’ll be in a ditch if you don’t keep your eyes on the road.’

‘You want to drive?’

Erin shook her head; actually she wanted to sleep. Her muscles, some she hadn’t known she possessed, ached from the unaccustomed strenuous physical activity. She slapped her cheeks lightly, fighting to shake the creeping exhaustion that weighed her eyelids.

‘If you’re tired take a nap.’

Stifling another yawn, Erin turned her head quickly and found he was studying the road ahead. He really was quite spookily perceptive.

‘I’m not tired,’ she denied brightly.

‘Afraid I’ll take advantage?’

Under the sweep of her lashes her glance lingered on his upper arms where the fabric of his shirt was stretched taut by the strongly defined muscles. She wrapped her arms around herself as a shivery sensation passed through her body. The fact was, if he decided to take advantage there wasn’t a lot she could do about it asleep or awake!

There were some advantages, she reflected, to looking like a survivor in a disaster movie. ‘If you’re trying to make me feel nervous don’t bother … I can take care of myself.’