She watched as Linda searched Jared’s features once more. Her face was pale now except for two spots of deep red on her upper cheekbones.
Jared appeared not to notice as he walked out the door and casually strode to the car, the rain not seeming to penetrate his hardened exterior.
Amanda ran to the car feeling every cold needle of the downpour as if she were at the mercy of an incompetent acupuncturist.
He had the car idling already and looked impatient as she fumbled with the belt.
‘That was Linda Dixon, wasn’t it?’
The principal’s wife. She’d sometimes helped out in the school office.
He didn’t reply. She knew as well as he that it was her. She glanced at him. He had such a ‘don’t go there’ look. He jerked the gears and pulled on the wheel with far more force than necessary.
But Amanda wasn’t afraid of his silences. Her curiosity was too great. And her female intuition told her there just had to be history—ugly, messy history—between them. But she’d go casual, relaxed, as if there weren’t this churning feeling in her gut. ‘Did you know her well?’
He didn’t lift his eyes from the road. ‘Not that well.’
No? So why was the woman eating him with her eyes? Oh, they were so talking history.
Finally he looked at her. His eyes dark, the cynical amusement only fleeting. ‘You don’t really want to know, do you, Amanda?’
‘Oh, no.’ She shrugged. She was a woman—of course she did.
A sharp bark of laughter. ‘You’re a crap liar.’
It was her turn to study the road ahead.
‘The lovely Linda approached me one day when I was doing some work around their grounds—they were on my longlist of ride-on lawnmower jobs. Mr Dixon was out at some school board meeting. It was a hot day—nor-west wind blowing over the plains sending everyone crazy.’ The faintest of smiles touched his mouth. ‘You know what she wanted, don’t you, Amanda?’
Those needles were being twisted well below the depth of her skin now.
‘You know because you asked for the same thing later that very day.’ Bitterness rolled out of him.
‘My birthday?’ She stared. Shock left her mouth hanging. ‘Did you—’
‘What do you think?’ He broke in. ‘She was almost old enough to be my mother. What’s more she was married. I wasn’t going to sleep with her or any of them.’
Them? There were them? Amanda drew breath. Astounded at the revelation. Oh, she’d known there were rumours aplenty about Jared’s supposed prowess as a lover, but even so. And he was so angry about it. She inhaled a couple of deep breaths. Tried to lighten it up. ‘So did you leave Ashburton a virgin, then?’
He choked, a rough spurt of laughter. ‘No. But at least she was my age. Or near to. And she was single.’
The sword of jealousy struck fast and deep, killing the humour she’d been trying to resuscitate. ‘Did it last long?’
‘It was a casual thing.’
Casual. Like this thing between them.
‘What was her name?’ Had she known her? Was she pretty? Amanda hated her anyway.
Jared pulled over. Amanda still stared at the road as if the car were moving over it. He reached across and slid his palm down her cheek, turning her face to his. ‘You want a spreadsheet detailing every woman I’ve ever slept with?’
‘No.’ The thought repelled her. She hated all of them.
‘Then let it go. The past is past.’
‘Would your spreadsheet run to more than a page?’
‘Amanda,’ he half laughed.
‘It’s not fair. You know exactly the detail on mine.’
‘It was a lot harder saying no to you than to her.’ Softly he brushed back a wisp of her hair.
Well, that sure didn’t make her feel any better. The old embarrassment crushed her, doubling in weight. She’d thought she was so special. Had been offering him a precious experience as if she were some princess bestowing a favour on a man she thought worthy.
But in truth she was just one of at least two women throwing themselves at him like cheap tarts. No wonder he’d got so jaded. Part of him must have wanted to laugh but instead he seemed so bitter about it. Why?
‘What did she do when you refused her?’
His expression closed over again. ‘That’s something you really don’t want to know.’
He looked over her shoulder, nodded to the rest home. ‘Now get in there and sort him out. I’ll see you at the motel later.’
Chapter Twelve
AMANDA paused at the bottom of the rest-home steps and made herself file away the conversation of the last five minutes in a compartment labelled ‘Danger: Do Not Enter’. Grandfather was the priority. Grandfather, whom Jared was going to help. She quickly walked in, far more confident than when she’d arrived first time round this morning. Jared hadn’t laughed at her. He’d taken her qualms seriously and invigorated her with the sense that she was right to be concerned and, even more, that she had to do something about it. She’d known that. But it was so nice to have the back-up.