‘He was concerned for you,’ Damon said, interpreting her expression correctly. ‘The way every parent should be.’
There was a fleeting wistfulness in his tone and Kate immediately remembered Damon’s mum and dad and their total lack of parental care. ‘I know.’ She shrugged. ‘But I’m thirty years old.’
‘Any parent worth his salt doesn’t stop worrying just because his kid grows up. Allow him the privilege of caring about you, Kate. Don’t give him cause to worry.’
She reached out to trail a finger down his chest, around his navel to the thicker hair below, and batted wide, innocent eyes at him. ‘A bit late for that, isn’t it—you don’t think the past little while here on this bed would give him good cause?’
His half-grin didn’t quite erase the serious glint in his eyes. ‘Ring him, that’s all I’m saying.’
‘I will. Later. After we’ve eaten.’ She leaned over and reached for the room-service menu. ‘My appetite’s back and right now I’m starving.’
Half an hour later they were enjoying a mid-afternoon snack. Clear chicken soup flavoured with lemon grass and shallots, followed by a traditional Balinese dish of yellow rice called nasi kuning accompanied by grilled fish in banana leaves. All set out in the middle of the bed.
‘You know your way around a Balinese menu,’ she said, licking oil off her fingers. ‘Have you been here before?’
He scooped up a mouthful of rice. ‘I’ve spent a lot of time in this part of the world.’
‘What made you leave Australia?’
He stopped chewing and the relaxed man she’d shared the meal with seemed to disappear behind a sombre façade. His posture stiffened, and his voice was flatly remote when he said, ‘There was nothing holding me there.’
Kate sensed there was more to it, something he couldn’t or wouldn’t share. ‘Not your grandmother? Bryce?’
‘Bryce and I had nothing in common any more. And Gran…’ He trailed off, staring towards the balcony and out to sea and Kate saw no lingering fondness she’d have expected in his gaze. ‘She’d done what she saw as a duty and I’m forever grateful to her for that. It was time to move on.’ He set his plate aside. ‘Have you seen much of Asia, Kate?’
Damon knew he’d left Kate with more questions than answers, that his response had told her nothing. That he was turning the conversation to her. He didn’t want to relive the pain of old wounds. Bonita had been the only person he’d loved unconditionally and he’d long ago accepted that Gran had never loved him.
‘Quite a bit. Damon…’
He saw those questions in her eyes. Eyes that reminded him too much of other eyes, other times. His jaw locked tight. He would not revisit those times. For anyone.
She reached out a hand to touch his, but he withdrew, preferring to stack their dishes on the tray and set it on the floor than risk anything remotely emotional. If he wasn’t careful he was going to fall for Kate harder than he intended to and he refused to let that to happen. Fun—temporary—times were all he’d allow himself.
She shrugged his response off, but there was hurt behind the sting in her voice. ‘We need to get some things straight before we go back to work. Our relationship, for a start—’
‘We’ve got ten days, Kate—nine now. Don’t think about work. Or the future. What would you do if you only had those nine days?’
She frowned. ‘What sort of pessimistic outlook is that?’
‘Humour me. Think about it.’
‘I’d spend it with my family.’
‘And if it was just the two of us? Here?’
Her brow wrinkled in thought. ‘You’re saying what we have here, now, is all we have?’
He continued looking into her eyes. ‘Don’t think beyond next week.’
‘So to our talk we didn’t get around to… You’re saying lovers without strings, no delving into personal history, no getting emotionally involved. Just us and good times. For nine more days. Have I got it right?’
‘We’ll have fun, Kate.’
She nodded slowly. ‘Fun. But no sleepovers.’
He thought about that for a moment. ‘You mean you’re kicking me out? After what we just shared? Enjoyed?’
Her expression was resolute. ‘Yes.’
‘How will that look—the guy slipping out to another room every night in the wee hours?’
To his surprise, her gaze turned inward as if remembering something before she seemed to collect her thoughts and made what appeared to be a darn hard effort to smile. ‘I turn into a pumpkin at midnight.’