Miracle in Bellaroo Creek (Bellaroo Creek!)

  These were the rooms above Milla’s bakery.

  When a slight creak sounded, he knew it was the bathroom door opening. A moment later, Milla appeared in the doorway with a towel wrapped around her.

  It was then that Ed remembered that the only route from the bathroom to Milla’s bedroom was through this small sitting room. Knowing she would hate to be caught out, he quickly closed his eyes, feigning sleep.

  At least...he almost closed his eyes, but not quite. Only a man in a coma could resist taking a good long peek at Milla Brady wearing nothing but a towel.

  She had wound her coppery hair into a knot on top of her head and secured it with a tortoiseshell clip, giving him a perfect view of her pale, graceful neck and shoulders. The towel reached mid-thigh, so there was also a good deal of her bare, shapely legs on display. An added bonus was the hint of her delicious curves beneath the towel. Her skin looked so smooth and pale his fingers ached to touch.

  Miraculously, he found the self-restraint to stay perfectly still on the couch. He wanted this woman, wanted to make her his, but he had to play his cards very carefully. It didn’t matter that he was going mad with wanting her—he’d promised himself that he wouldn’t rush. She was too important to him. He understood her fears now, and he couldn’t risk scaring her off.

  When Milla was halfway across the room, however, Ed realised that she’d stopped and had turned his way. And she just stood there as if she was looking down at him. With his eyes closed, he couldn’t see her next move, but the room was so quiet he could hear his own breathing, and it wasn’t exactly calm.

  He sensed Milla coming closer, bringing with her the lingering scent of the jasmine soap she’d used in the shower.

  He opened his eyes.

  Damn it, he had to.

  ‘Oh!’ Instinctively, Milla clutched the towel she’d knotted over her breasts, and a bright pink blush spread from her neck to her cheeks.

  ‘What time is it?’ Ed asked with a theatrical yawn.

  ‘Ah—around five-thirty. In the afternoon.’ She looked delightfully embarrassed. A blushing Botticelli vision in an apricot and white striped towel.

  ‘I went for a run,’ she said, her green eyes round and serious, as if it was important that he understood exactly why she was here. ‘If I want to stay on top of this new workload, I need to keep fit. And—and then after the run, I had a shower.’

  She was talking quickly to cover her nervousness. And yet, Ed noticed with deep fascination, she didn’t scuttle away like a startled crab. She didn’t rush to her bedroom and slam the door on him. And while he knew he had to take this carefully, Ed had no intention of lying down when his heart’s desire was a breath away.

  Slowly, purposefully, he got to his feet. To his intense relief, Milla didn’t step back from him.

  * * *

  Milla couldn’t have moved, even if she’d wanted to. She was mesmerised by the sight of Ed lying there on her sofa, and she would defy any girl not to take a closer look at such masculine perfection.

  She had feasted her eyes with a top-to-toe inspection, starting with Ed’s thick dark hair, untidily awry, his eyelashes, dark and sooty against his cheeks, the sexy rock-star stubble on his grainy jaw.

  She admired his broad shoulders stretching the thin fabric of his T-shirt, and the lovely, manly length of him. His taut stomach. Long legs in jeans. Even his bare feet fascinated her. What a size they were.

  And it was absolutely amazing to know that Ed had come all this way to see her. Not to boss her around, but to help her. Again.

  She’d run away from him once and lived to regret it, and it was a miracle that he knew this and had still come back to her.

  On many levels it didn’t make sense, but Ed had told her he would explain. Now, however, he rose from the sofa and stood square in front of Milla. He was touching close, kissing close, and she was naked beneath her towel, and Ed didn’t look like a man intent on explanations.

  Milla’s heart skipped several beats. Ask him why he’s here.

  He smiled at her. ‘Am I right in assuming that we’re safely past the first date?’

  ‘That’s a funny question,’ she said, thrown by its unexpectedness. ‘Are you angling for another kiss?’

  Ed touched her on the elbow, and that simplest contact sent rivers of heat under her towel.

  ‘Must admit, I’m not in the habit of asking.’

  She was sinking beneath his spell. I should be demanding answers. Now. Before it’s too late.

  But Ed was already moving in closer and he spoke softly, next to her ear. ‘I’ve missed you, bakery girl.’

  I’ve missed you, too. So, so much.

  If she let Ed kiss her now, she knew she would end up in bed with him, and, oh, Lordy, she was melting at the very thought. But she also knew very well that she would end up more deeply in love with this gorgeous man. And how could she let that happen when there were still so many unanswered questions between them?

  With huge reluctance, she placed her hands firmly in the centre of his chest, holding him at bay. ‘Ed, we haven’t talked yet. You haven’t told me why you’ve come back.’

  He gave a choked groan.

  ‘It’s a fair question,’ she said defensively.

  His response was a wry, sad smile. ‘Milla, give a man a break. You’re standing here in nothing but a towel. You’re driving me wild, and you want to interrogate me.’

  ‘It’s not that I want— It—it’s just that—’ Her head was swimming. Her hands were still pressed against the brick wall of his chest, holding him away from her, but what she really wanted was to have him close again. Holding her.

  She couldn’t stop thinking about his farewell kiss. She wanted his arms around her, his lips sealed to hers.

  And before she’d properly sorted her thoughts, Ed covered her hands with his own, folding them, holding them against his shirt.

  ‘I have questions, too,’ he said softly. ‘I need to know if I still terrify you.’

  She was sinking fast. ‘You don’t,’ she whispered.

  And then...he touched his lips to hers, just the briefest, softest brush... ‘What about now?’

  Already, she was halfway to meltdown. ‘No. Not scared.’

  ‘And now?’ he asked, drawing her into his arms.

  Now, she was lost in a blaze of longing. She wanted his lips, his hands, his body.

  ‘Not afraid,’ she whispered in a breathy gasp as she slipped her arms around his neck, as she looked clear into his eyes and lifted her lips to meet his.

  The first mouth-to-mouth touch was magic. It ignited the fire she’d felt on the night of their very first kiss all those years ago, inducing a jolting reaction that rendered her reckless and wanton.

  She felt no fear. This was the man who’d worked side by side with her today. The man who’d travelled hemispheres to be with her for this first important day. When he picked her up and carried her to the bedroom, she couldn’t find a single reason to resist. She simply gave a soft yearning sigh and pressed her lips against his neck.

  Ed lowered her to the bed and he looked down at her, and his eyes were shiny as he traced his fingertips over her heated skin, following the edge of the knotted towel.

  ‘You’re so beautiful,’ he said softly. ‘I’ll never forget the first time I saw you in London. I wanted to make you mine straight away.’

  She knew she would cry if she thought about the wrong paths she’d taken, so she pulled him down to her and kissed him again, kissed him long and hard till the aching knot of tears in her throat eased.

  Oh, how she loved the taste and feel of him. On a wave of rekindled need, she slipped her hands under his T-shirt and slid her palms over his smooth, warm skin, over his muscly shoulders that she’d admired so often.

  Impatient now, she hel
ped Ed out of his T-shirt and her heat and longing mounted as he lowered his jeans.

  His eyes were smouldering now as he flipped the ties on her towel, and Milla took a deep breath as it fell away. For a scant moment she felt vulnerable beneath his smoky gaze, but as he let his palm glide over the curve of her hip he let out a soft, deeply appreciative sigh. And this time, when he leaned in to kiss her, she felt both safe and triumphant.

  She belonged in Ed’s arms. He belonged in her bed. They made love with desperate need and with the excitement of new discovery that was interlaced with heart-lifting moments of exquisite tenderness.

  With each murmured endearment, with each kiss and touch, Ed took her to new heights of pleasure and release, and she cried from the sheer, piercing joy of it.

  Afterwards, she lay for ages with her head on his chest, listening as the drumming of his heartbeats slowed.

  And then she turned to him. ‘I guess that’s answered your question.’

  He fingered a tendril of hair from her forehead. ‘So you’re still OK?’

  She’d never had such an attentive and considerate, sexy lover. ‘I’m certainly OK, Ed. I’m very OK.’ She didn’t think she’d ever felt so OK.

  He’d made this long day perfect.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  TWILIGHT HAD GIVEN way to night.

  Milla turned on a bedside lamp, rolled out of the bed and stood smiling down at Ed. ‘You must be hungry.’

  He gave a soft laugh. He hadn’t given dinner a thought. He was still floating on a cloud of warm elation, still coming to terms with the surprising turn this day had taken.

  So much for his plans to take things slowly with Milla...

  No wonder people used terms like bewitched and black magic to explain explosive attraction. From the moment he’d touched her he’d been a lost man.

  Now, she shot him an exceptionally happy grin as she pulled on jeans and a white sweater.

  ‘Come downstairs, when you’re ready,’ she said. ‘Hungry or not, I’m making dinner.’

  From the doorway, she looked back at him over her shoulder and her green eyes flashed a warning. ‘And over dinner, I guess you’d better tell me exactly what you’re doing back here in Australia.’

  Fair enough, Ed thought. He only hoped he could tell his story in a way that convinced her.

  There was a storm outside now and sheets of rain lashed at the windows in wintry gusts as he came down the stairs. The bakery was warm, though, and filled with glowing light as well as the fragrant aroma of simmering tomatoes and herbs.

  ‘Pasta OK for dinner?’ Milla asked as she set a pot of water on the stove.

  ‘You must be tired of cooking.’

  She shrugged. ‘Not really.’ She turned the gas high, set a lid on the pot, gave the sauce in the other pot a stir. ‘Would you like a glass of wine?’

  ‘To celebrate your successful first day?’

  Her eyes danced. ‘I think we deserve to celebrate, don’t you?’

  ‘Sure.’

  They grinned happily at each other once again, and Milla reached for a bottle of rich dark red wine and poured it into two glasses.

  ‘Thanks for your help, Ed.’ She handed a glass to him, and her eyes held a dancing smile. ‘Thanks for everything.’

  A look passed between them that made Ed’s heart leap. ‘Congratulations to our master baker!’ he said.

  They clinked glasses and drank, and their smiles held echoes of the new intimacy they’d so recently shared.

  ‘So, I haven’t asked,’ Ed said as Milla turned her attention to the cooking pot. ‘Are you happy with the day’s takings?’

  ‘Very happy. We’ve sold out of almost everything, and people are already starting to leave orders.’

  ‘That’s fabulous.’

  ‘I know.’ She gave a little skip of triumph. ‘I did it! We did it.’

  But then her expression sobered. She turned from the stove and picked up her glass, looked down at it, and seemed to study it for a minute or two. Then she lifted her gaze to look directly at him. ‘So,’ she said quietly, with a worried little smile. ‘Are you going to tell me now exactly why you’ve come back here?’

  He knew it was vital that he got his answer right, and he told her the simplified truth. ‘As I said before, I’ve missed you.’

  Her eyes widened. And despite their recent lovemaking, pink bloomed in her cheeks and she took a deep sip of wine.

  ‘I like being with you, Milla. I’ve always liked being with you.’

  Her small smile flickered and vanished like a snuffed candle, and she quickly looked down at her glass again, carefully running her finger around its rim. ‘That’s nice, Ed. I—I really like being with you, too. But I’d like to understand more. I mean—I’m assuming this is another quick visit? You’re an American high-flyer, after all. So what’s happening with your business? How can you afford to be here when you’ve just escaped a takeover by the skin of your teeth?’

  ‘They’re all valid questions. And I want to explain. Honestly, I’ve always planned to explain. It’s a longish story, though.’

  ‘I’d like to hear it.’

  And so Ed told her.

  Milla served up their food in deep dishes and they dragged out stools and sat at the bench, sipping wine and swirling rich pasta with their forks, while he told her about his father and Maddie Brown and how their story had lit all kinds of lightbulbs for him. He told her about his grandparents and the farm in Michigan, about the apple orchards and the red barn, and the long summer afternoons beside the Kalamazoo River.

  ‘I’ve spent my whole life trying to please my father,’ he said. ‘I’ve worked as hard as I could at the business, always hoping for some small sign of approval from him. And then I realised in the middle of the Cleaver takeover that my heart wasn’t really in it. If I hadn’t been so worried about our employees’ futures, I could have let the company go.’ Ed snapped his fingers. ‘Just like that.’

  Milla blinked. ‘But you were always so dedicated.’

  He let out a heavy sigh. ‘It was the shock of my life to find out that Cavanaugh Enterprises was all about my father’s ego. Or at least, to discover that he could turn his back on it in a heartbeat.’

  ‘For Maddie Brown?’ Milla finished softly.

  Ed nodded.

  She looked thoughtful as she gathered up their plates and carried them to the dishwasher. ‘So what’s happening to the company now?’

  ‘Just before I left, I settled new negotiations with Cleaver and we’re now prepared to let them take over as long as they can guarantee that they’ll retain all our employees.’

  Milla’s face was pale. ‘You’ve handed your company over?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And then rushed straight here?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She was shaking her head now. ‘But that’s crazy, Ed. You can’t be thinking straight. You can’t have thought this through.’ Now she was pacing, wringing her hands.

  ‘Milla, it’s OK. Don’t get upset about this.’ Ed tried to reach for her, but she pulled away.

  ‘I’m sorry. I’m worried. Of course I’m worried. When you first came here and found out about my bakery plans, you accused me of having a knee-jerk reaction to Harry and the baby and everything. Maybe you were right, but I’m happy with my choice. But now, I think you’re doing the same thing. You’re overreacting to your father’s news.’

  ‘Well, if I am, it feels damn right.’

  ‘But—’ Closing her eyes, she pressed her fingers to her temples. ‘I don’t think I can take all this in right now.’

  ‘It’s been a long day, and I’m sorry, Milla. The last thing I wanted was to add to your worries.’ Ed scratched at the annoying, two-day-old roughness on his jaw. ‘Maybe you need a
good night’s sleep. If you like, I can book into the pub.’

  ‘Actually, I’ve already done that for you, Ed. While you were sleeping.’

  He tried not to mind that she was obviously keen to evict him, but he felt as if everything was unravelling. He’d come here to help her, to take things slowly and to explain the whole situation, to share his hopes, his plans, and instead he’d rushed in and bedded her.

  Great work, Brainless.

  He wished he could expand on his explanation now, wished he could appease Milla’s justifiable concerns, but he knew that she must be exhausted. Her day had started at three a.m.

  His only option now was to hope that he could find new and better ways to convince her that he cared. Truly cared. That he would never hurt her. But he would have to leave that till tomorrow.

  ‘I’ll get my things,’ he said and he was up the stairs and back again in a flash.

  At the front door, Milla looked miserable. ‘If you’d stayed here, Ed, the whole town would know about it by morning.’

  ‘Of course. Best to avoid the small-town gossip.’ He pulled on his jacket.

  She opened the door a chink. It was still windy and rainy outside, and she chewed anxiously at her lip. ‘The people in this town have already plied me with questions about the nice American.’

  He couldn’t bring himself to smile. ‘It’s OK. You don’t have to justify sending me to the pub.’ He kissed her cheek. ‘Don’t worry about any of this. Get a good night’s sleep.’

  She nodded. ‘You, too.’

  ‘See you in the morning.’ Ed set off, head down, into the rainy night, with the grim sense that he was dangling over a precipice.

  * * *

  Milla closed the door and leaned back against it, closing her eyes, wishing she didn’t feel so unbearably lonely now. In her head she knew she’d done the right thing by sending Ed away. She had to protect herself.

  She just wished her heart could agree.

  Don’t think about him. Just go to sleep...

  Heaven knew she desperately needed sleep. She’d had a huge day, the biggest day of her life, and there would be another one just like it tomorrow.