When they’d finished their encounter, they’d sit down to a meal. It’s what they’d usually done, and his chest ached. He should never have allowed this to pass.

  She moved swiftly into the bedroom beyond, leaving him alone to contemplate for the first time the destructive nature of their association.

  He’d hurt her, the way she’d blushed, then paled. The scurrying gait.

  On a sigh, he turned away and headed back to the kitchen, reached into a cupboard and pulled out dishes. He gazed at the white porcelain she’d helped him choose, and for the first time, he felt… dirty.

  Shoving the emotion aside, he opened a drawer and picked up forks and spoons. The serving spoon lay beside the slow cooker, and pots of pre-cooked rice waited in the microwave.

  When Karen returned, she was pale. The makeup she’d donned scrubbed away.

  “I should apologise, Micah. You told me it was over, but I—”

  “No need to say anything, Karen.”

  Her head bobbed up and down. “I’ll get the rice.” He watched as she opened the door with a jerk, the oven gloves he hadn’t seen her scoop up on her hands.

  Micah slid the heat stone onto the table and picked up the pot. “Apricot Chicken?”

  “Your favourite.”

  He gulped, feeling small and mean. She could always be counted on to remember the important things, his favourite foods and even his parent’s birthdays and anniversary. “I…” He swallowed the lump that rose in his throat. “I don’t want to lose your friendship, Karen. While I’ll understand if you can’t be my agent, I don’t…”

  She smiled at him, sad, lips trembling. “I wasn’t sure you’d keep me after today.” She waved her hand at the lounge as she slid into her chair.

  “I’ll always want your friendship.”

  Chapter

  Three

  Davina slid into her car, the sense of empowerment that filled her for the last couple of days fizzled away, like the dying rays of the sun.

  She bit her lip and wondered if that man—Micah—would also attend. Maybe he wouldn’t and she was worrying needlessly. There’d been a raw sexuality about him that tugged at her, but her discomfort was on a whole different level. She dismissed it. “It’s the odd week, silly.”

  Since she’d taken a day off at the beginning of the week, so much had turned upside down in her world. Her assistant, Tabs, had resigned. Having fallen pregnant with twins, the morning sickness and stresses from her relationship meant she’d finished early to concentrate on other aspects of her life. The recruitment side wasn’t going so well. “And that’s yet another story!” The car slid to a stop as the lights turned red.

  Then three of her clients had decided the divorces they’d filed for were just a tad too hasty. Jenny Amos, mother of three and wife of an influential local public servant, claimed, “I need to give it another go. For the kids, you know.”

  Her mother had called to let her know she was marrying the love of her life on a beach in Bali. “No need to attend, dear. Just me and Peter and an intimate ceremony for two.” The giggle had left Davina wanting to gag.

  “Is that marriage number four or five?” She’d have to check and change the names again in her address book and maybe even the address this time, she guessed.

  Topping it all off, her father had called in a tizzy just this afternoon. “Good news! Laura is pregnant and due in February!” Wife number three with kid number six on the way. Yippee! Not.

  “No wonder I have no intentions of marrying. Because life sucks when it ends.” Heaven knew, she’d seen the result lots of times between both her parents and in her practice of family law.

  At least her home was coming together, she thought, the engine idling as she waited for a set of lights to turn green. When they did, she moved forward.

  The lounge was completed with a new corner suite in shades of mushroom, a rattan and glass coffee table, matching the new dining suite.

  The spare room now resembled a functional meditation room, the bed gone, and an Asian carved wood side table boasted the two antique brass and glass lights she’d kept hold of, but everything else was rich jewelled tones. Deep cushions filled the floor space and made for a welcoming relaxation spot. She’d even sprung for a decent sound system for the room and mood enhancing soy melts, so she could totally relax.

  The walls of the unit now boasted artworks of rainforests and landscapes. Hell, she’d even sprung for a Micah McKay original, though it set her back more than she’d expected. The depths and tones of the pastel taking pride of place in the room where she practiced her relaxation routine.

  She drove into the carpark at Knights Meditation Haven, having sloughed off the worst of her problems, and looked forward to the session ahead. The car belonging to Micah was there, a large black SUV, and she parked next to it. Tendrils of unease unfurled deep in her belly, but she fought them back.

  “He’s here to learn to meditate just as I am.” Of course, that wasn’t the only reason she was here, but his overt masculinity was too much for her needs.

  She’d seen a couple of pleasant and innocuous younger men in the group that followed and considered that maybe one of them would be more her speed. They were more likely to be tender lovers and looking for an odd outing, ending in a passionate conclusion. That had always been her experience and had worked until this point.

  Reaching into the back of the car for her bag containing the mat, and water bottle Karly had suggested she bring, Davina took the moment to breathe deeply, hold it, then exhale. It allowed her to gain control of herself, so she’d appear calm and collected.

  Sliding out of the car and heading for the door, she realised he was waiting, watching her. A gleam in his eyes and that predatory look set fire to a small curl of heat in her centre. It smouldered, fed a little by the smile on his lips. Funny, she hadn’t noticed they were full, or the deep blue of his eyes.

  “Right on time!” Karly called out as she opened the door and ushered them into the small room they’d used last time. “Let’s get straight into it then, shall we?”

  He followed her in, the heat of his breath fanning the nape of her neck in a highly erotic and intimate manner.

  Things moved and melted deep inside her. Things she wasn’t expecting, and she gulped.

  “Everything alright, Davina?”

  She nodded furiously at Karly’s query and headed to the side of the room, preparing to lose her bag while fumbling for a coherent thought. This wasn’t her. Not at all. She was in control. Calm. Collected.

  She wasn’t anywhere near as in control of herself as she may have hoped, Micah thought, watching the curvy Davina as she slid her bag onto the small area set aside for bags and belongings. Desire coiled, building in the pit of his belly.

  The shake of her hands and the half furious, half terrified glint in her eyes were a dead giveaway that she wasn’t in any way prepared for what might come. A hint of curl escaped the tight knot she’d used to contain her hair, and he noted the long line of her neck. Swan-like, he mused.

  “Micah?” Karly called, and he turned, then paused, taking a moment to clear his head before moving toward the deep cushions Karly indicated to.

  “Tonight, I want to explore your experience this week. Davina, how did you get on?”

  Davina had slid onto a mound of deep teal cushions and exhaled.

  “I, um, went and set up a meditation room in my apartment. I wanted it to be somewhere I could close away. Like a sanctuary, I guess.” Davina’s eyes moved toward him, half hidden by long lashes, and he felt the impact like a blow to his solar-plexus.

  “What did you use, Davina?”

  “I… ummm, I bought deep cushions and relaxing landscapes for the wall. A long low table with some lamps and bought a music system and incense-y-kind of stuff.”

  “Very good.” Now Karly turned her attention to him. “Micah?”

  “I just used the bedroom. It’s dark colours, reds and browns. Guy-stuff.” He hadn’t really considered the environment for the practice of meditation, besides which, he really wasn’t worried about the meditation side so much as the woman he’d met for sexual encounters. Wasn’t that what he’d invested time in this for?

  “Well, if you’re comfortable there, that’s outstanding. Today, before you leave, I have some literature for you. Different meditative practices that may interest you. So, grab the packets I’ve arranged before you leave. Now, time to practice…”

  The half hour passed swiftly and by the end, Micah felt looser than last time. In fact, loose enough to wait until Karly had ushered them through the door before calling to Davina. “Wait!”

  Davina stilled in front of him, white-knuckled fingers clutching the straps of her bag as she turned slowly. “Uh, yeah?”

  “Look, since we’re doing the introductory course together, I thought you might like to grab a drink afterwards? There’s a little bar next door, and I thought…” He waited, watching as her pupils dilated, breath deepened.

  “Uhh. Well, okay.”

  Inside him, the predator, tightly leashed, roared its approval.

  Davina couldn’t help herself as her body quaked. Micah had asked her for a wine. She wasn’t sure if that was something to celebrate or faint over. He was the sort of man she usually avoided and yet; she walked with him, hand just glancing against her waist into a bar.

  They gravitated to a small table in a corner, with two seats and sat opposite each other as the attendant made their way over. “Chardonnay, please.” There was a husky quality to her voice that she wished she could banish.

  He ordered a merlot, and she couldn’t help but blink. The depths of flavour in the wine seemed to mirror the qualities of the man sitting opposite. She almost laughed out loud at the whimsy of her thoughts.

  “So, how are you finding the introductory lessons?” He reclined in the seat as if wholly at home, and her mouth turned dry.

  “I’m finding it interesting. Not quite what I expected, I guess. Maybe I expected more, you know, interaction.”

  He smiled, lips thinning, and yet the glint in his eyes shone brighter. “Interesting. I found the intimacy to be quite intriguing.”

  The oxygen in her lungs fled as the hunger she’d banked for some time fled. Was he propositioning her?

  Unsure and at-damned-sea, while every part of her seemed to clench, she grasped for how to respond. Her veneer of sophistication was hard won and appeared the best way to deal with what he offered. Davina inhaled deeply. She shuddered as her lungs constricted, and she coughed. Loud hacking sounds. Embarrassment fled before her need to breathe.

  He was up, concern in his gaze. “Are you alright?” Hands reaching for her.

  Oh God! She nodded wildly, face flaming while raising two hands to ward him off. The paroxysm under control, she whispered, “I’m fine.”

  A waiter appeared, a glass of water at the ready, and Davina gratefully accepted it and drank deeply, thankful for the interruption so she could regain her thoughts.

  Micah returned to his seat opposite her, watchful.

  “Sorry about that,” she muttered, knowing that she’d made a mess of any act she might assume, and shrugged. Time to just be her, she guessed.

  Micah’s smile had lost the smoulder of before. “Just so long as you’re feeling better now.”

  “Oh, yes. Look about—”

  His gaze narrowed on Davina’s mouth, and she felt the kick of heat. “It’s not important.”

  Frustration wove around her, choking back the sudden sense of having lost something important.

  “Umm, so what do you do, Micah?” Their glasses of wine arrived, and she accepted the white with a tiny sip, pleased suddenly to have something to occupy her hands.

  “I’m a painter. Well, actually a pastellist.”

  Now it was her time to narrow her gaze, move in slightly. “Really? You’re not M McKay are you?”

  His lips moved as he reclined back into the chair. “Yes, why?”

  “Oh damn! I just bought one of your landscapes for my meditation room, but it worked better in my lounge.”

  “Really? Which one?”

  * * *

  She rubbed her fingers over her brow. “View of the Night Rocks.”

  The tiny wrinkles at the edges of his eyes crinkled as he smiled. “I love Night Rocks, but that one was special. It was the first piece I completed after returning here from Sydney. I spent a night out there, camping, taking photos. It was moody. Atmospheric to use a common term.”

  “It was the colours that grabbed me. The dark blues and crystal stars, the flashes of white on the rocks and—”

  “You’re a writer?” His words stopped Davina in her tracks.

  “What? Oh. No, I’m a lawyer. Specialise in Family Law. You know, divorces, custody cases and things like that.”

  He spluttered on his drink, and it was heartening to realise that he, too, was human. “Really?”

  His voice carried surprise.

  “Sure. I’ve been working in the area for years, particularly divorces. I try to avoid anywhere kids are involved, though, sometimes I don’t get lucky.”

  “Why is that?”

  She sipped again, wondering the best way to explain without giving away her own history. “I can’t stand the way the kids get used or abandoned after relationships break down. Too many kids out there with trust issues because the adults can’t get it together.”

  Silence stretched between them. Then he sighed, “Sounds like the voice of experience, to me.”

  Taking another gulp, Davina swallowed as much as she could, not quite draining the glass, then slid it to the wooden tabletop. “Look, this was interesting, but—”

  “Davina, if I said I was interested in you, would you be surprised?”

  His words stilled her, every aspect of mind freezing in an instant.

  “Davina?”

  “I think we’ve both made a mistake here tonight. I have to go. I’ve got work in the morning.”

  Her hand speared into the bag, dragged out her purse in the drawing silence as she slid a ten dollar note out and dropped it to the table. “I’ll… I’ll see you next week.” Then she beat a hasty retreat.

  Chapter

  Four

  Micah stared at the easel, shocked by what he’d just achieved in the last twelve hours of manic work. It wasn’t so much that his mojo had returned, so much as he’d needed to purge the sight of the horror on her face.

  Davina.

  Something about her had captured his soul, and he had to exorcise the hunted look from his memory. Yet what he saw in front of him now was a passionate and sensual woman, eyes soft and dreamy, lips upturned.

  He reached out, almost touching the chalk marks, then pulled back.

  Just like the night he’d visited Night Rocks, he’d felt compelled, more of an out-of-body experience.

  It was the first work he’d completed in well over a month that had that emotional depth he’d felt lacking. But this… This was everything. There was the emotion, the depth. He could almost touch her soft skin. Her eyes shone in the light, and her hair appeared to be silky-soft.

  The radiant aura mesmerised him.

  It was a work that was sensual and carried the promise of intimacy.

  Mine.

  His reaction was immediate. Strong.

  Arousal coiled like a spring…

  The door to his workroom squeaked, opened wide, and light from beyond almost blinded him. Micah turned as Karen entered the room, her heels clicking on the wood surface, the tap tap tap driving into his skull like nails. It broke the fragile communion he shared with the painting.

  “There you are! I was just about to put the kettle on…” Karen’s bright chatter stopped as her gaze zeroed in on his easel. He heard her indrawn breath. “That’s amazing Micah! The gallery will be ecstatic! Now, tell me you aren’t sleeping with her and—”

  “What?” His whiplash word had Karen rearing back, and he banked the anger that suddenly rose.

  It was irrational in its suddenness, and yet he’d not wanted to share this.

  “I’m sorry Micah, but it’s amazing.” Her voice dipped to a whisper as flags of scarlet shone on her cheeks.

  “I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I’m sorry, but Karen, you aren’t supposed to just barge in.”

  “You’ve asked me in the past to knock and I meant to, but I’d been calling you and had this feeling. Look, that piece is amazing, and I know they’d be glad to have something of this calibre to display and you could name your price.”

  His sigh echoed in the sudden silence. “No. This piece isn’t going to the gallery.”

  She snickered. “Of course, it is. They’ll love it. What a wonderful portrait. Such depth and passion. But it looks to me like you’ve already—”

  “Stop, Karen. No. It’s…” He fought for the words that would end her insistence, but none were forthcoming, so he simply shook his head. “We’ll find another central piece. I’ll go through my stock room.” He stepped back, grabbed up the rag to wipe his hands, and turned. “Did you mention coffee?”

  Karen frowned, looked from him to the easel and back again. “Yes. Of course. Come on.”

  He followed her out, trying to banish the feeling that he’d made a mistake somewhere in this conversation that would come back to haunt him.

  Chapter

  Five

  Tuesday again, thought Davina. Meditation tonight. Week three of a five-week course, and her belly jiggled with anticipation at seeing Micah again.

  She bit her lip as she steered the car into position in the carpark outside Knights Meditation Haven. No black SUV. In fact, her car was the only one here. For a moment, she allowed herself to experience a shock of surprise and regret. Maybe her actions last week had scared him off?

  “Oh well, I better get my act into gear.” Elyse was pushing harder for her to find a guy. The only thing was, in her mind, Davina already had a guy. . . . Micah.