MEL rang early the next afternoon.
‘Just checking to see how everything’s going,’ she said, her voice purring suggestively.
‘Fine,’ Annie told her. ‘I’m making risotto with smoked salmon and asparagus.’
‘At this time of day?’
‘Well, I’m starting from scratch. Making my own stock and everything.’
‘Crumbs, Annie. I thought you’d be out, strolling around an art gallery, soaking up culture.’
‘I did that this morning, but I wanted to—’
‘Impress Dr Theo with your culinary skills?’
Yes. It was probably foolish of her to hope that she could impress Theo. A man had to be interested in her before he could be impressed, and Theo had been so remote this morning.
After her restless night she’d slept in and Theo hadn’t woken her when he’d taken Basil for his walk. And he’d kept his nose in a newspaper while he had his breakfast coffee and toast. It was almost as an afterthought as he was heading out of the door that he’d mentioned he had theatre tickets for this evening and would she like to come.
But, foolish though it might be, she wanted to impress him with this meal.
Despite the mystery surrounding the whole Damien-Theo connection, she fancied the heck out of Theo and heaven knew, she was never going to impress him with her dazzling intellect.
‘Theo’s the most amazing cook, Mel. I can’t just feed him sausages and mash.’
‘Don’t forget to have some fun, Annie. You told me you came down here to get out of the kitchen. I was going to ask if you wanted to do something tonight, but it sounds like you’re busy.’
‘Thanks for thinking of me. Theo said something about going to see a play.’
‘Oh, nice.’
‘I hope so. I haven’t seen a stage play since our English teacher took us to see A Midsummer Night’s Dream. Perhaps I can meet you for lunch tomorrow or the next day?’
‘Okay. Keep in touch.’ Mel sighed. ‘I’m still not confident you’re doing the right thing, Annie.’
‘Relax, Mel. I’m totally on top of this,’ Annie lied.
When the theatre lights came up at the end of the play, Theo discovered Annie dabbing at her eyes with a tissue.
‘That was a terrible ending,’ she said. ‘I was expecting it to turn out happily.’
‘So you insist on happy endings, do you?’
‘Not necessarily, but when a play starts out like a romantic comedy I do. I was sure James and Erica would end up together, then in the last five minutes everything fell apart. That shouldn’t be allowed. I was devastated.’ She shoved the bunched tissue back into her purse and sniffed. ‘Sorry.’
‘No need to apologise.’
‘I enjoyed every minute of it until the end.’
Annie looked so disappointed that Theo was tempted to throw a reassuring arm around her shoulders. He might have done so if she hadn’t also been looking so lovely this evening.
Despite the hint of tears still shimmering in her eyes, she was radiant in her simple, sleeveless dark red dress. Slim and womanly. Breathtakingly so.
But he was determined to keep his distance, and as they joined the people filing out of the theatre he shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his trousers. He kept them there as he and Annie walked side by side back to his place, even though it was a perfect summery November’s night.
A trip to the theatre had seemed a good idea, far safer than staying at home with Annie, being bewitched by the changing nuances in her animated face, or being flattered by her rapt attention during conversations; safer than waiting in pleasant anticipation of being ambushed by another of her unexpected questions, or thinking about an ambush or two of his own…that didn’t involve quite so much talking…
And, as if that wasn’t bad enough…Tonight the scent of frangipani lingered in the air and fallen jacaranda bells formed a carpet beneath their feet. A half moon rode at a tilt above the rooftops. It was the kind of night that cried out for a little romantic hand-holding, but he had to nip those kinds of thoughts in the bud.
Fat chance.
As they walked beneath trees and street lamps, passing in and out of shadows, he couldn’t resist stealing glimpses in Annie’s direction. She walked with an easy grace, a barely contained vitality. And whenever the light touched her hair it gleamed like a silken reflection of the pale gold moon. He longed to touch it.
Longed to feel the smooth curve of her shoulders, the slenderness of her waist. And more.
He would be wiser to reserve his admiration for the brave tilt of her chin and the pert jut of her nose. But on a night like this wisdom crumbled so easily. Damn! He had always prided himself on his self-control and yet now he was thinking about Annie’s legs. How was a man expected to remain immune to them? They were so devastatingly long and lovely beneath her red skirt.
To his dismay, he was forced to admit that he was losing the will to remain at a safe distance from Annie McKinnon. But he had to, damn it. There were a thousand reasons why getting close to her was unwise. Besides, she hadn’t come to the city to meet him. She was far too young and spirited and lively to get involved with a boring university lecturer.
Annie felt strangely nervous by the time they reached Theo’s house. There seemed to be a new tension between them, an almost tangible sexual tension. Or was she imagining that?
The mystery of Damien still loomed in the background of her thoughts, but she didn’t know how to broach the subject without spoiling the mood of the evening. And tonight she didn’t want to spoil anything. Every minute she spent with Theo convinced her that she was becoming helplessly attracted to him.
They entered his house by the front door and he paused in the middle of his lounge. ‘Would you like coffee or brandy or both?’
‘I think I’d like brandy but no coffee,’ she said. ‘Coffee tends to keep me awake.’
‘Brandy it is, then. Take a seat.’
She sat in an armchair while he removed his coat and fetched glasses and brandy from a drinks cabinet. He handed her a glass and took a seat on the sofa, which was positioned at right angles to her chair.
Settling back, he loosened the knot of his tie and crossed an ankle over a knee. Then he slipped his glasses up on to his forehead while he massaged the bridge of his nose. He seemed relaxed, but Annie couldn’t help wondering if, like her, he was making a conscious effort to look more relaxed than he felt.
His glasses back in place, he smiled at her and raised his drink. ‘Cheers. Thanks for your company this evening.’
‘Thank you for taking me, Theo. I really enjoyed the play, despite my fuss at the end.’
‘Here’s to happier endings.’
‘I’ll second that. Happy endings.’
Their gazes met and the sudden heat in Theo’s eyes was so electrifying that Annie was glad she was sitting down.
He took a deep sip of his drink. ‘Thanks again for dinner, too. Your risotto was truly superb.’
‘Glad you liked it.’
For a while they sat without talking, enjoying the fine brandy. But the prolonged quiet was too much for Annie.
‘Theo, can I spoil this golden silence by asking another of my nosy questions?’
He smiled. ‘Wait till I brace myself.’ He drew an exaggerated deep breath. ‘Okay. I suppose I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Fire when you’re ready.’
‘It’s nothing too confronting. Well, perhaps it is a bit—it’s just that ever since our conversation last night, I’ve been curious about your girlfriends.’
‘Oh, dear.’
‘Do you have a girlfriend at the moment?’
He didn’t speak immediately. Keeping his gaze lowered, he said, ‘I date women from time to time, but there’s no one special at the moment.’
‘Are you still shy with women?’
His face broke into a helpless grin and a knowing light sparked in his eyes. ‘I don’t hang around in bars with a book and a pipe, if that’s what you’re asking.’
The warmth of his amused gaze flowed over her and her cheeks felt hot. ‘Fair enough. I’ll let you off that particular hook for now.’ Suddenly she kicked off her shoes and settled more comfortably into the armchair with her legs curled beneath her.
‘That’s the hard questions over. Now for the easy one.’
‘I can hardly wait.’
‘What do philosophers have to say about romance?’
His smile lurked, but he eyed her cautiously and he took a deep sip of brandy before he answered. ‘On the whole, philosophers haven’t been too impressed by romantic love. I think they feel it’s best left to song writers and poets.’
‘Why do they avoid it?’
‘Well—romance interrupts more serious projects.’
She made a faintly scoffing sound.
‘Even the greatest minds can become bewildered by the power of love.’
‘Of course! So they should be.’ Leaning over the arm of the chair, she challenged him. ‘But surely you can’t expect me to believe that all the philosophers, supposedly the greatest thinkers in the world, have put the entire subject of romantic love into the too hard basket?’
‘Well, no, they haven’t. Not entirely.’
‘You want examples? Okay, there was a German philosopher called Schopenhauer, who decided that love is perplexing and yet very important to us because the composition of the next generation depends on it.’
Annie stared at him in disbelief. ‘Good grief, Theo. Was he serious?’
‘Quite.’
‘But that’s the most unromantic, boring explanation anyone could ever think of. Is that the best philosophers can do?’
His smile was wry as he lifted his glass and watched the movement of the brandy as he gave it a little swirl. ‘I admit that most fellows aren’t really concerned about the continuation of the species when they ask a girl for her telephone number, but that’s no reason to knock the idea.’
‘Convince me.’
‘The theory is that we are attracted to people whose genes will combine well with our own. For example, a man with a very big nose might be attracted to a woman with a rather small one and together they’ll produce a child with a more acceptably sized nose.’
Annie tried hard not to stare at Theo’s nose. She already knew that it was quite perfect, neither too big nor too small.
‘But that’s got next to nothing to do with romance,’ she said. ‘Not with the emotions and longings we feel deep in our hearts.’
He looked away for a moment and the muscles in his throat worked. ‘We’re speaking theoretically, Annie. And the theory is that this selection process works at a subconscious level. Apparently it explains why humans have an alarming propensity for falling in love with the wrong people.’
‘Do they?’
‘Yes. We’ve all seen it, haven’t we? A man or a woman falls in love with someone who doesn’t seem at all compatible, and yet they feel no sexual attraction whatsoever to someone who would be much more suitable.’
A sudden chill turned Annie’s skin to goose-bumps. ‘Do you think that happens very often?’
‘Of course. James and Erica in that play tonight were a very good example, but it happens all the time.’
She sat back and took another deeper sip of brandy. Staring down into her glass, she murmured, ‘Perhaps that’s why I’m so incredibly attracted to you.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
Her heart pounded. ‘I said perhaps that’s why I’m so attracted to you.’
She looked up to find Theo staring at her. He looked predictably stunned, but at least he didn’t look horrified.
‘We’re incompatible, aren’t we? Take the education factor for starters.’ She dropped her gaze back to her glass. ‘Which is a pretty big factor.’
There was a stretch of silence. Then Theo said gently, ‘I would have thought the gap in our ages was more of a problem.’
‘It’s not that big a gap. You could only be, what—ten years older than me?’
‘Nine,’ he amended quickly.
The speed of his answer and the scratchy sound in his voice, as if he’d swallowed a prickle, gave her courage. Leaning forward, she set her glass on the coffee table. ‘Well, there you go, Theo. The incompatibilities are toppling by the minute.’
‘Yes.’ Without taking his eyes from hers, he set his glass down beside her glass. ‘Perhaps they are.’
There was a moment of breathless stillness and silence while they both sat, watching each other, aware that they hovered on the brink of something momentous.
Then, to her dismay, Theo closed his eyes and released a soft groan. ‘Annie, your honesty is refreshing but we shouldn’t be talking like this.’
‘Why not?’
‘We need to step back from this for a moment and think.’
‘Do we?’ Annie winced when she heard the disappointment in her voice. She sighed and repositioned herself, uncurling her legs and sitting straight in the armchair once more. ‘What do you suggest we think about?’
‘Why you came to the city. What you really want. I assume you were hoping for adventure and romance, but you expected to find it with another younger person. And now I’ve intruded into the scene.’
She suspected that this was the moment to bring up her worries about Damien. Problem was, whenever she was with Theo, her whacko theories that he was leading a double life just didn’t make any kind of sense. He was too grounded, too balanced, for subterfuge. And why would a man as gorgeous as Theo need to hunt for a woman using the Internet?
‘To be honest, I’m not too interested in Damien any more,’ she said.
‘Nevertheless you should be out on the town—hitting the top night spots with your girlfriends. Meeting younger men.’
‘I enjoy being with you.’
He sighed. ‘I’m not the kind of man you want to get involved with.’
‘Why?’ Nerves tightened in her stomach. Was this confession time? ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘I’m an excessively boring academic.’
‘Boring?’ She gaped at him. ‘Is that all?’
He frowned. ‘Were you expecting me to offer you a list of character faults?’
‘No, no, not a list exactly.’
‘You’ve already dismissed my claim that I’m too old for you, although I think that deserves closer consideration.’
‘It’s just that I thought you were going to bring some surprise skeleton out of the closet.’
He favoured her with a small smile and shook his head, and she felt a heady rush of relief.
‘No skeletons,’ he said. ‘But perhaps you think that in itself is boring?’
‘Theo, in no way are you boring. Honestly, from where I’m looking, you’re shaping up to be the single most interesting man I’ve ever met.’
A dark colour stained his cheekbones. His eyes flashed with sudden heat. For a breathless moment Annie thought he was going to leap out of his chair and haul her on to the sofa with him.
If only…
Clenching a fist on his knee, he looked away, and she saw his jaw tighten with tension.
After a clamouring stretch of silence he said, ‘What surprises me is that a lovely girl like you had to come to Brisbane to search for a boyfriend. I would have thought you’d have plenty of offers, even though you’re relatively isolated in the outback.’
For a moment she couldn’t answer. She was too busy indulging in a private celebration because Theo had said she was lovely. Wow! With an effort, she forced her mind to process the rest of his comment.
‘I’ve tried dating guys from the bush,’ she said, ‘but after a while I lost interest in them. I suppose I fit right in with that German philosopher’s theory. It would have been sensible of me to fall for a man in the out-back, but no one clicked. I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because I’ve had a steady diet of cowboys all my life that I find city men much more interesting.’
Theo’s response was to sit very still and scowl at a spot on the floor, which made Annie feel suddenly flooded by doubts. And very foolish. And exposed.
Had she completely misinterpreted their situation? She’d thought there was a mutual ‘something’ happening between them, but perhaps she’d got it all wrong. Maybe Theo was trying to suggest kindly, indirectly, that he was regretting his offer of hospitality?
A horrible flash of chilling panic slithered through her. She bent down and picked up her shoes, then stood. No doubt it was an immature, reckless, unphilosophical way to respond, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘I can move back to Mel’s in the morning, if that’s what you want.’
Then, because she suddenly felt the need to cry, she turned and hurried across the room without waiting for his reply.
‘Goodnight,’ she called over her shoulder before scooting up the stairs.
Common sense and logic told him it was best for Annie to return to her girlfriends in the morning. He’d invited her to his house on an impulsive, foolish whim, fuelled by more self-interest than he’d cared to admit at the time, but it was not too late to correct his mistake.
In a flash of images, he pictured himself doing the right thing—driving her back to her friends and then returning to this house without her. Saw himself walking with Basil along the South Bank. Morning after morning. Without her. Saw himself dating sensible academic colleagues—taking them to see plays—women who would never dissolve into tears over the ending, however unsatisfactory.
And the thought appalled him so fiercely that he jumped to his feet, charged across the room and took the stairs three at a time.
Annie was in the doorway of Damien’s room—about to close the door.
‘I don’t want you to go, Annie,’ he said.
With her hand on the doorknob, she turned back to him, her face pale and her eyes shining with a suspicious brightness. ‘No?’
He shook his head and smiled. ‘In fact, I’d very much like you to stay.’
She lifted the shoes she’d been holding and cradled them against her chest in a kind of defensive gesture. ‘Why have you changed your mind?’
‘One very good reason.’ He smiled. ‘Honestly, from where I’m looking, you’re shaping up to be the single most interesting woman I’ve ever met.’
For a moment she looked confused. Her clear blue eyes reflected disbelief warring with wonder. But then a slow, warm smile suffused her face. ‘That’s nice to know,’ she said.
But instead of running into his arms with the open-hearted impulsiveness he’d come to expect from her, she said a demure goodnight and closed her bedroom door.
And yet again, Dr Theo Grainger was left with a feeling of puzzled inadequacy.