He thought about his fine plans for the weekend. He loved getting outdoors and escaping the city. For a second he’d considered taking her to Queenstown except he wasn’t sure about letting her invade his retreat. Still, the idea of taking a boat out for the weekend had been very appealing. But she didn’t want to spend that kind of time with him—she wanted no more than the few hours in the evening where they pushed each other physically and ate if they were lucky. Tonight she didn’t even want that.
She was so preoccupied that she didn’t even try to make conversation on the ride to her place. Didn’t notice that he didn’t either.
Jared fumed. Who was the spider again? ‘Cos he was starting to feel like a fly—sucked dry and stuck in her web. He pulled up outside her hideous boarding house.
She’d nearly got out without saying anything but he grabbed her shoulder.
‘Look at me.’ He wanted all her attention on him.
She did as he asked and as he watched she seemed to come back to the present, her eyes widening as she stared at him.
He kissed her then, a hard, brief kiss that did nothing to soothe the prickles digging under his skin.
‘Have a good time.’ He pulled the car from the kerb as soon as she got out.
Damn. She was getting to him.
He got back to his apartment and told himself he was glad to have his space back. But where was she going? He prowled through his cavernous-feeling lounge. Glanced at the phone.
Darling. Who was the bastard, then?
He went closer and stared at the machine. Picked up the receiver. Hit redial. Bitterly laughed inside at the simplicity of evil genius.
A woman answered and he listened to her greeting.
‘Sorry. Wrong number.’
He put the handset down and groaned aloud at his own stupidity. How could he have thought, even for one second, that she was off to be with another man? This was the woman who’d given her virginity to him only four days ago at the frankly ancient age of twenty-five. He laughed then. God, he was a fool.
He sobered. It was scary that jealousy could turn him into such an idiot. It was terrifying that he’d felt that degree of jealousy.
White Oak Retirement Centre. It had to be Colin Winchester, her grandfather. Why hadn’t she just said? Why keep it a secret? The bitter anger bubbled again. Because she didn’t want him involved in her life other than as her sex partner. She didn’t even want to spend the whole night with him.
Well, that was fine, wasn’t it? He didn’t want anything more than that either, did he? They were just expunging ghosts and fulfilling teen fantasies. Then they’d move on. Sooner rather than later.
Jared had never had a long-term relationship. Never would. The whole family thing wasn’t for him. Security, yes—as in financial—and he’d worked hard to get it.
He stomped into the kitchen. He was glad she was gone for the night. It was good to have his space back as his. He wasn’t missing her. Wasn’t smelling her scent in every room.
He was a liar.
He saw her in his mind again, couldn’t shake her from his head. She’d been so distracted, not even noticing his less than subtle frosty reaction.
Maybe something was wrong? He stopped stomping and replayed those last few words he’d heard her utter on the phone. Listened to the tension that had been so obvious in her tone. It wasn’t that she’d been concerned about him overhearing—it wasn’t about him at all. All her focus had been on something miles away and she’d been anxious.
His blood chilled. Something really was wrong.
He reached for his phone again. ‘Auckland airport, please.’
Chapter Ten
AMANDA was on the first flight of the day. Couldn’t afford a hire car this weekend so was anxiously hoping the plane would land on time for her to make the bus. She couldn’t afford the airfares either but had stuck them on her credit card. Some things were more important than money.
The bus that she’d dashed to catch was slow. Ordinarily the journey was only a little over an hour but it took almost two. She’d booked into the usual motel—not having any old friends in the town to stay with. She’d left Ashburton and not looked back, visited Grandfather only on brief occasions in those university years. Jared was right; she’d been spoilt and selfish.
She walked to the motel and dropped her bag. She’d put the night’s bill on the credit card as well—crossing fingers it wouldn’t be rejected. Then she walked round to the nursing home. It was early—not yet visiting hours, but tough.
He was sleeping. She crept into the room, frightened at how frail he looked—even more than he had two weeks before. Carefully, so she wouldn’t wake him, she sat on the edge of the bed and looked into his sleeping features.