WHEN Serina woke, a pre-dawn light was filtering through the window above the bed head.
So much for my resolve not to stay the whole night, she thought ruefully as she glanced at her wristwatch and saw that it was five past six. Sighing, she very carefully lifted her leg off Nicolas’s still-sleeping form and rolled onto her back next to him.
She’d been right to be fearful of staying the night with him. Nicolas in passionate mode was difficult enough to resist; Nicolas, the tender lover, was impossible to resist.
She hadn’t fallen hopelessly in love with him again. How could she when she was already in love with him? But she’d begun to have foolish hopes where he was concerned, very foolish hopes, indeed.
Down deep, she knew that he wasn’t going to come back to Rocky Creek to live. Neither was he going to marry her. The most Serina could hope was that he’d stay for the week that he’d booked. And perhaps come back for the odd visit over the coming years.
But more than likely he was going to get on that plane today and never return.
Last night had had goodbye written all over it.
Her heart turned over at this last thought. How was she going to be able to stand losing him again?
You’ll just have to, came the harsh voice of reason. You have no other choice. Mothers can’t afford to have mental breakdowns. Now get your butt moving, get dressed and go home before all the neighbours wake up and see you driving past still dressed in the clothes you were wearing last night.
Such thinking propelled her out of bed like a shot. Her clothes, fortunately, weren’t strewn all over the place as they had been yesterday afternoon. Nicolas had undressed her here, with care, in the bedroom. Scooping them up, she hurried into the bathroom, where she climbed into the shower. Five minutes later, she was out, dried and dressed.
That was another thing mothers learned to do: be quick.
Having rinsed her mouth out with cold water, she was finger-combing her hair into place when the bathroom door opened and there stood Nicolas in all his naked glory.
‘And where do you think you’re going at this hour?’ he asked.
Serina thought her nonplussed expression was of Oscar-winning standards. ‘Home, of course,’ she said coolly.
‘But why? Felicity’s not there. And you don’t go into the office on a Saturday.’
‘I have to this morning,’ she returned crisply. ‘Emma’s having the day off. She’s going to a wedding.’
‘You still don’t have to go this early. It’s only ten past six. Have coffee with me first. I have something I want to discuss with you.’
Her heart leapt, not with hope, but with fear. Surely he hadn’t changed his mind about not disclosing the fact he was Felicity’s biological father? ‘What about?’ she asked somewhat warily.
‘Nothing for you to worry about. Look, I’ll go put on the kettle,’ he said, and turned away, giving her a perfect view of his perfect rear.
‘Only if you put some clothes on first?’ she called after him.
He just laughed.
By the time she dared to leave the bathroom and join him in the living area he’d pulled on a pair of black satin boxer shorts.
‘So what is it you want to talk to me about?’ she asked whilst he opened a couple of the coffee bags supplied and popped them into mugs.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he replied slowly, then stopped to pour in the boiling water.
‘About what?’
‘You take milk and one sugar, don’t you?’
‘Yes,’ she said grudgingly. ‘Now what’s all this about?’
‘My, my, but you are not such a happy chappy in the mornings, are you?’ he said as he proceeded to take his time, getting the milk out of the fridge then slowly opening a packet of sugar.
‘Nicolas, you’re driving me mad! I have to get going. The neighbours will wake up soon and they’ll see me coming home still dressed in this.’ And she indicated the white dress she’d worn the night before.
His eyebrows lifted. ‘Oh, I see. I forgot that people noticed such things in Rocky Creek. Not only noticed, but cared. Now don’t blow a gasket,’ he added when he saw a dark frustration fill her face. ‘This won’t take long. The thing is, Serina, I’ve changed my mind.’
Oh, no, she thought in a panic.
‘It’s not what you’re thinking.’ He frowned suddenly. ‘Why must you always think the worst? What I’ve changed my mind about is leaving today.’
‘But last night, you said…’ She broke off, not sure if she was happy now with his change of heart. Amazing how things could work out in your head when they were romantic fantasies. Everything became much more complicated in real life.
‘I know what I said. But I’ve had more time to think things through and there’s no reason for me to leave today. Look, I’m not going to say anything about being Felicity’s father. I gave you my word on that. I can see how cruel that would be, and pointless. Felicity would probably hate me, as you said. And you, too. Which is not what I want. Not at all,’ Nicolas added, then came forward to draw her into his arms. ‘You said there was a danger you’d fall hopelessly in love with me again last night. Dare I hope it might have happened? Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?’
Serina groaned as her heart began to battle with her head. To tell him that she loved him was a big step and, perhaps, a foolish one at this juncture. After all, he hadn’t said he loved her and he’d had plenty of chances last night.
‘Nicolas, I can’t afford to have my heart broken by you again,’ she said carefully.
‘You think I would do that?’
‘I don’t know what you’d do. Like you said, we don’t know each other anymore. On top of that, we come from different worlds.’
‘That’s not quite true. We’re both Australians. If you’d ever spent time living overseas, you’d realise that Australians are a breed apart. Look, I appreciate that you think I hate it here in Rocky Creek and that I prefer living in New York, et cetera, et cetera et cetera,’ he said as he pushed her coffee across the kitchen counter towards her. ‘But do you know what? I’m not so sure I hate Rocky Creek as much as I thought I did. Frankly, I enjoyed yesterday’s talent quest more than I’ve enjoyed anything in years. But all that pales into insignificance against what we have together. Do you honestly think I’m going to let you get away from me for a third time? Okay, so I probably wouldn’t like to live here full-time,’ he went on. ‘But there’s no reason why I can’t visit on a regular basis. No reason why you can’t visit me as well. I’ll pay all your expenses, of course.’
Of course, Serina thought, an unexpectedly sour taste filling her mouth. That was what wealthy men did for their mistresses: they paid.
Becoming Nicolas’s part-time, long-distance mistress was not the stuff Serina’s romantic dreams were made of. Especially since he hadn’t even said he loved her. On top of that, to have him visit her in Rocky Creek on a regular basis was still a risk.
Her face twisted with the reality of that risk. ‘You promise you won’t say anything about you-know-what? Not ever? Even if you get angry with me for some reason?’
‘I give you my solemn word.’
‘So what, exactly, am I to tell my family? Especially my mother. She’s going to ask questions if you stick around for another week.’
‘Tell her the truth. That I’ve fallen hopelessly in love with you again and can’t bring myself to leave just yet.’
Serina’s mouth fell open. It was still open when Nicolas kissed her.
Nicolas leant over the railing of the balcony, calling and waving to Serina as she crossed the road to where she’d parked her car. When she glanced up and threw him a kiss, he threw one back.
‘I’ll ring you later,’ he shouted, and she smiled.
It made him feel good, that smile. She made him feel good.
Okay, so she didn’t quite trust him enough to tell him that she loved him, too. But he’d felt her love last night, and in her kisses just now. Soon, she would say the words he wanted to hear. Meanwhile, he’d begin making concrete plans for their future together, sensible ones that he could live with on a permanent basis.
There was no doubt in Nicolas’s mind that existing 24/7 in Rocky Creek was beyond him. He would eventually miss the things which had become an integral part of his life. Going to stimulating dinner parties, the theatre, the opera. Serina was right about that.
But one didn’t have to go to London or New York for such cultural diversions.
There were plenty of cities in Australia that could cater to his occasional need for such activities. Sydney especially, which was only a short flight from Port Macquarie. It might take some time, but he would sell his apartments in London and New York and buy a place in Sydney, as well as one in Port Macquarie. He would inquire if there was an apartment for sale in this building, he thought as he walked back inside and set about making himself a fresh cup of coffee. That way he could commute between both places with ease, and without feeling like he had no home. He could even continue his career as a producer and promoter, if he felt so inclined. Just because he hadn’t brought shows to Australia in the past didn’t mean he couldn’t in future. Sydney had several theatres large enough to hold even the most lavish musicals. And the Opera House administrators were always trying to persuade the world’s top singers and musicians to come Down Under.
Admittedly, he’d been growing a bit bored with that part of his life lately, but Nicolas was old enough to know that he might grow unbored at some future date. Showbiz was in his blood. To suddenly drop it from his life would be a recipe for disaster. He’d seen many a marriage flounder because of one or either party thinking their spouse would change after the wedding.
And he meant to marry Serina.
He hadn’t mentioned the M-word yet—fearing it was a little premature—but she wasn’t going to get away from him this time.
He’d done a lot of thinking overnight. He still loved her. And he’d finally come to the sensible realisation that he was crazy to feel any jealousy over her life with Greg Harmon. Her marrying another man was entirely his fault. If he’d been there for her in the first place, if he’d shown her by his actions that he truly loved her, instead of letting his stupid male pride ruin everything, then she would never have married Harmon. Her statement that she’d learned to love her husband had been very telling. She’d never been in love with Harmon the way she had with him.
He could spend the rest of his life tormenting himself over what might have been. But what would be the point of that? If nothing else, Nicolas was not the kind of man to cry over spilt milk. When things got tough, he got even tougher.
With his fresh coffee finally made, he carried it back out onto the balcony where the morning sunshine wasn’t yet too fierce, just pleasantly warm. It was, after all, only six-thirty in the morning. But the day promised to be a sizzler: high thirties, someone had said last night.
Now that was one thing he’d have to get used to again: the long hot summers.
Thank heavens for air-conditioning and cool balconies that faced the sea….