When Harriet Came Home

by Coleen Kwan

  Cindy arrived home a few minutes later and Jarrod launched himself on to her like a spider monkey, refusing to let go. Dropping her clutch of shopping bags, Cindy collapsed onto the nearest couch, and gave in to her son’s noisy greeting.

  “Oh, Adam, you can give Harriet a lift home, can’t you?” Cindy yelled as she unwrapped a chocolate bar for Jarrod. “I think I’ve had too much to drink.”

  Adam was still out on the deck, lacing up his work boots. He paused to shoot Harriet an enigmatic look. “Sure,” he said. “No problem.”

  Wonderful, Harriet thought. Now she’d be alone with Adam again. She climbed into Adam’s truck and perched her cardboard box of honey and lemon myrtle on her lap. The drive home would only take fifteen minutes, she told herself. Surely she could survive that? As soon as they hit the road Adam wound down his window and turned on the radio to a music station. The sound of a soft jazz song filled the car.

  Fine. He didn’t want to talk. That was fine with her. Because she couldn’t think of a single thing to say, not when she was still kicking herself.

  “You’re good with Jarrod,” he said out of the blue.

  She turned toward him in surprise. “I am?”

  “Jarrod likes you because you set boundaries. He needs boundaries.”

  “I think he needs his mother,” she retorted. “But Cindy seems to find motherhood a bit of a challenge.”

  “I don’t think it’s that. I think Cindy has too much time and not enough to do. She needs something to occupy her.” He angled a quick glance at her. “You could ask her to help you with the catering.”

  Harriet burst out laughing. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh like that, but the idea of Cindy doing something in the kitchen is…mind-boggling. She’s never shown the slightest interest in cooking or anything to do with The Tuckerbox.”

  “It was just a thought.” Adam shrugged. “She seemed impressed when she learned you were taking over from your father. Badgered me with all sorts of questions about it.”

  Harriet shook her head in a daze. Cindy impressed with her? That couldn’t be right. Cindy had never been impressed by anything she did.

  “That doesn’t sound like my sister at all.”

  Adam slowed down the car at an intersection and checked for crossing traffic. “People change, you know,” he said as they pulled off again. “You, of all people, should know that.”

  The rebuke in his voice made her squirm. “Yeah, well, I don’t think Cindy’s changed that much.”

  “Okay, fine. Let’s drop it.”

  His brow remained furrowed. His mouth was taut. The silence prickled.

  She tightened her grip on the box on her lap. “Look, about what happened on the deck… I’m sorry. I didn’t know what I was doing and…and it won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “What?” He flashed her an incredulous look. The wind whipped through the windows for several seconds before he spoke. “You’re sorry, are you?”

  “Of course I’m sorry—”

  “Hell, don’t apologise. Nothing actually happened.”

  His abrupt tone stopped her cold. Nothing. So, as far as he was concerned, nothing had happened on the deck. Maybe this happened to him all the time. Maybe he had to fight off infatuated women every week. Yes, that was it. She was just as bad as Cindy mincing around in her ripped jeans and slutty heels.

  “Yup. Okay. Fine.” Her stomach clenched and her fingers cramped up.

  She thought that she and Adam had entered a new phase, that they’d set aside their differences and found a common goal, but now all the old uneasiness welled up in her, and she couldn’t wait for the ride to end.

  Harriet’s car choked and jerked like an asthmatic. “Come on,” she urged.

  The engine gave one final splutter before giving up the struggle. She just had time to steer the slowly rolling car onto the verge before it came to a dismal halt. She glanced at the countryside around her and bumped her head against the steering wheel. Oh, no. This could not be happening to her. She could not be stuck right outside Blackstone Hall.

  It got worse. Her mobile phone was completely out of juice. She groaned louder and shut her eyes. Perhaps a car would come along this road, and she’d be able to flag it down. She waited for ten minutes, but the road remained empty. Saturday noon was not peak-time around here apparently. She tried to start the engine, but the hatchback was a stubborn beast and refused to respond. She knew better than to open the bonnet; her knowledge of cars could be engraved on a pinhead.

  A few fuming minutes later, she got out of the car and slammed the door shut. She grimaced as she contemplated the solid iron gates of Blackstone Hall just a few metres ahead of her. Why did her car have to break down here of all places? Adam would think she was stalking him.

  She hadn’t seen him for three days. She’d thrown herself into the preparations for the ball, and in her spare time she’d taken care of her dad and her mother. She’d kept herself so busy. And yet…she couldn’t stop thinking about the near-kiss on the deck. Over and over she replayed the incident in her mind. Each time she did so, she wondered—had all the desire really been on her side alone? Hadn’t she caught a glimpse of passion in his eyes? Hadn’t Adam stroked her cheek and curled his fingers through her hair? Maybe he’d wanted the kiss just as badly as she had?

  She thunked the heel of her hand against her forehead. Stop thinking these futile thoughts. Stop seeing things that aren’t there.

  She gripped her shoulder bag tightly, and began the long walk up the driveway. Her shoes crunched on the gravel as she neared the house. One set of French doors was wide open, and the buzz of an electric saw whined through the still air. She hopped up onto the veranda and peeked through the open doors.

  Adam stood bent over a couple of work trestles supporting a piece of timber. He held an electric saw in one hand, the muscles in his arm bulging as he drove the sharp blade through the wood. She must have made some movement, because as soon as he’d cut the timber, he glanced up at her. The safety glasses wrapped around his eyes hid his expression as he straightened up.

  “Harriet.” He flicked off the saw and pulled off the safety glasses. Wood shavings dusted the hairs on his forearms. His damp T-shirt clung to his powerful shoulders. Her heart tumbled over. It wasn’t fair that she found him so gorgeous, that one glimpse of him turned her into a wreck.

  She ran her tongue over her dry lips. “My car broke down and my mobile phone is dead. I was wondering if I could use your phone?”

  God, how lame she sounded! He would think this was all a weak excuse to barge in on him.

  “Sure.” He bent his head and shook it, and a cloud of sawdust sifted from his hair and onto the floor. “I’ll just be a minute here.”

  She backed away a couple of steps. “I hope I’m not interrupting you too much.”

  “You’re not interrupting me.” He wiped his forehead across the sleeve of his T-shirt. “In fact, you came just in time. I could use your help with something upstairs, if you don’t mind.” He waited for her nod before lifting two freshly sawn pieces of wood and making for the staircase.

  He led the way up the stairs and down a panelled corridor. There were numerous rooms, most of them empty, some with a few sticks of furniture. They came to a stop in a large bedroom at the end of the hall. Harriet looked around at the faded wallpaper and scuffed floorboards.

  “I’m replacing some of the rotted timber in this window.” He set down his pieces of wood beside a window with half its bits missing. “You can help me get the measurements right.”

  “Wouldn’t it save you some time if you cut your wood up here?” she asked as she held the length of wood up against the window as he instructed.

  “The electrical wiring is a bit iffy up here.”

  He shifted toward her, and her senses went into overdrive. He stood mere inches behind her, the heat of his body warming her back. Her hands trembled, and she almost dropped the piece of wood.

  “Up a bit,” he instruc
ted.

  She obeyed, her stomach tangling into knots as she held her breath.

  “Why were you driving past my house?” he asked, his tone conversational.

  Was she imagining the hidden edge to his enquiry? “Uh, I had to see Dave and Tina, my dad’s kitchen assistants. I wanted to go over the schedule for the ball with them.”

  “How did it go with them?”

  Not as well as she’d hoped. Dave had been fine, but Tina had been suspicious and difficult right from the start. She had questioned everything on Harriet’s schedule and raised a lot of objections. She didn’t seem to think Harriet had any business doing the catering.

  “I think I managed to allay their concerns.”

  Adam stepped back, a speculative gleam in his eye. “You’re saying Tina wasn’t a pain in the butt?”

  She sighed. So much for trying to be diplomatic. “How did you know?”

  “Because I know Tina. I coach her son’s soccer team. She doesn’t suffer fools gladly, and she’s very free with her advice.”

  “Isn’t she just! She advised me I was doing everything wrong.”

  He picked up the second piece of wood and lined it up against the window. “I’m sure you can handle her.”

  “If I had the choice, I wouldn’t have her working for me at all.”

  He frowned. “Here in Wilmot you work with what you’ve got. You learn to cope with all types. You’re not in Sydney anymore.”

  “So I’ve noticed.”

  He lowered the piece of wood and gave her a hard stare. “You can’t wait to get back to Sydney, can you?”

  She couldn’t mistake the strong whiff of criticism in his tone. “Can you blame me?” She lifted her shoulders. “I have my own apartment and my own business there. I make my own decisions, and nobody gossips about me. City life suits me.”

  “Doesn’t suit me. I tried it once, back in uni.” He zipped up the measuring tape and shoved it into his work belt. “It’s okay when you’re young and carefree, but not when you want to put down roots.”

  “So you’re here for good, then?”

  He nodded. “This is where I belong.”

  He stood tall, hands on hips, feet apart and planted on the wooden floorboards. He looked like a tree rooted to the spot, a stubborn pride etched across his face. No one would move him, his stance implied. He was here to stay.

  “And this is where I’ll never belong.” She heard herself utter the words before she could stop herself.

  Adam tensed. “Nonsense. Of course you belong here. You grew up here. Your whole family lives in Wilmot.”

  “Not me. I’ll never live here again.” She turned to the window and stared out blindly.

  Adam exhaled. “I thought you and I had cleared up our differences, or am I mistaken?” He shifted his feet, his boots rubbing on the worn floorboards. “I’d hate to think I’m the one keeping you away from Wilmot.”

  “No, it’s not you.” She sighed and turned back, reluctant to face him but at the same time wanting to explain herself. “You know, when I handed those photographs of your father to that editor, I thought I was doing the right thing. I guess I never realised there’d be repercussions for me.”

  “What kind of repercussions?”

  “Your father was a good man, and a lot of people despised me for what I’d done.” She pushed her hands into the pockets of her skirt to hide their unsteadiness. “I got dirty looks and comments wherever I went. One night I was pelted with eggs. I received an anonymous letter telling me in very crude terms what people thought of me—” She hunched her shoulders as the memory sent a shiver down her spine. “I had to leave Wilmot.”

  He stared at her, deep disquiet carved across his face. “That’s lousy. I didn’t realise…” His lip curled. “An anonymous letter. That’s such a cowardly act.”

  “I’ve never told anyone about the letter, not even my father. You won’t tell him, will you? I just want him to get better, and then I can…”

  Get the hell out of here, she thought.

  The line of his mouth tightened. “Harriet, what happened to you was contemptible, but that took place a whole decade ago. You shouldn’t let that keep you away.”

  “A whole decade ago, but people still talk.”

  “People still talk about my family. I don’t let that stop me.”

  “No? Isn’t that why you’re organising this Harvest Ball? So that people will stop talking about the bad stuff and see you for your own accomplishments?”

  His eyes flared up in a sudden blaze, and his shoulders stiffened. She thought he would snarl at her. “Touché. I see you’ve found my Achilles heel—my family pride.”

  She felt sick to the stomach with her careless words. The last thing she wanted was to hurt Adam, and yet that was what she had just done. “I spoke out of line. I shouldn’t have said that. And you have every right to be proud of your family name.”

  “Do I?” His lips twisted. “Sometimes I wonder if I’m too arrogant.”

  “If you were too arrogant you wouldn’t be asking yourself that question.”

  He gave a bark of laughter, and the tautness in his face eased. “I suppose. Look—you want me to have a look at your car, or do you just want to ring up the garage?”

  “I’ve taken up enough of your time. I’ll just ring the garage. They’re getting to know my decrepit hatchback rather well now.”

  “The phone’s over at the cottage. I’ll come with you. I could do with a cold drink.”

  They walked back to the cottage without saying much. Adam motioned her to the telephone on his desk before heading for the bathroom. Harriet heard him splashing at the basin as she made her call as quickly as possible. She still hadn’t stopped agonising over that awkward fumble on Cindy’s deck, and after their strange conversation at the main house, she felt doubly on edge. She’d revealed too much to him, more than she’d intended, and now she just wanted to get away from him before she embarrassed herself further. She picked up her handbag and was headed for the front door when Adam came out of the bathroom.

  “Going so soon?” he asked.

  She stopped, rooted to the spot, her brain dissolving at the sight he presented. He was shirtless, a towel slung around his shoulders, droplets of water shimmering on his damp face and neck. Fire licked through her body as she drank in his muscled torso with its sprinkling of dark hair arrowing straight down toward the waistband of his pants.

  “Uh…uh…” A bare chest like his should come with a warning label, she thought faintly. “I don’t want to disturb you.”

  “You’ve disturbed me already.”

  Not as much as you’re disturbing me! She stared in helpless fascination at a droplet of water as it trickled across the curve of his pectoral muscle. She had a mad urge to lick that droplet, to trace her tongue along its path down his chest.

  “The tow truck won’t get here for another fifteen minutes at least.” He rubbed his hair with the towel. He tossed the towel aside and reached for a clean T-shirt slung across the back of an armchair. “I’ve got some cold ginger beer in the fridge. Why don’t you join me?”

  She couldn’t do that. If she did, she ran the risk of doing something embarrassing again. Like maybe she wouldn’t be able to control herself, and she’d grab him by the front of his T-shirt and pash the hell out of him. Oh, wouldn’t that be great?

  “Thanks, but I think I should go.”

  Somehow she’d managed to get herself trapped between the couch and Adam. He blocked the path to the front door, and when he took a step toward her, she faltered back against the couch.

  “I think you should stay,” he said.

  Her brain wasn’t working properly. What did Adam just say? “I th…think it’s not a good idea.”

  He moved even closer. Her butt jammed against the couch, and she had to grab hold of the fabric-covered cushions to keep her balance.

  “I think,” he said slowly, “we need to clear the air.”

  He took hold of her by t
he shoulders, his touch firm yet easy. Slowly he leaned in. His head blotted out the light, and then he kissed her. His mouth was warm and persuasive, commanding yet gentle. At first she was too stunned to react, and then her instincts took over. She softened against him and kissed him back, her lips moulding to his pressure, her chin lifting for better access. The kiss was sweet and slow, sizzling and thrilling. His lips were mellow, but she could sense the passion he held back, the fervour building up beneath the tenderness. She forgot who she was, forgot everything and relinquished herself into the kiss. Her knees became jelly, and the blood thumped through her veins as a delicious heat poured through her, turning her bones to slush.

  He lifted his head a few inches. His eyes were wide, unsettled, the irises fully dilated. He seemed as surprised as she was. The scent of soap and male lust filled her nostrils.

  “Christ,” he said. “You taste good.”

  Her head felt heavy and dizzy; her lips throbbed. She swayed against him. The kiss had been sweeter than she’d ever dreamed. Why had he stopped? He shifted his hands to her waist, and a shiver of excitement ran across her skin. She couldn’t think straight, all she could focus on was his hands, his eyes, his mouth.

  “S…strange way to clear the air,” she managed to splutter.

  His lips curved into a grin. “Come on, admit it. There’s been a weird kind of electricity between us ever since you came back. At first I put it down to what had happened with my dad. But even after we managed to sort that out there’s still something going on between us, some kind of unresolved tension.”

  She wasn’t ready to admit anything to Adam. “Is that how you usually deal with unresolved tension? You grab the person and kiss them?”

  “And what were you doing with me on Cindy’s deck the other day?” His eyes danced. “If Jarrod hadn’t woken up at the wrong time, I swear you would have been on top of me with your tongue in my mouth.”

  Her flush rose to the roots of her hair. He was right, damn him. “You wish! You think I’m so desperate for your charms?”