One of Rachel's jobs as a student teacher had been to assist the sports mistress. One afternoon Rachel had been counting heads as the girls came out of the sports block. They had been playing netball and had all showered before continuing on to their various classes.

  Rachel's count had been one short. Quinn Farrelly, of course, the sports mistress had stated in disgust, and sent Rachel to look for Quinn. Rachel had hurried into the locker room and glanced around. A black sports bag lay on one of the benches. The door to the showers was open, and Rachel took a step inside, worried that Quinn may have fainted or been taken ill.

  There was a figure inside. Quinn had finished showering and was drying herself off, her back to Rachel.

  Rachel stood transfixed, unable to prevent her gaze from moving over the sleek lines of Quinn's naked body. Her wide, well-defined shoulders. Her narrow waist and slim hips. Her rounded buttocks and long, well-shaped legs. And as Quinn moved, bent forward, Rachel saw the curve of one small firm breast.

  What followed was burned indelibly into Rachel's memory bank. The intervening years hadn't so much as blurred her recall. Back then a burning fire had raged over Rachel's body. She'd wanted to move closer and run away. She'd been ashamed and yet so very excited.

  In those split seconds she d wondered what Quinn would have thought if she'd turned, seen Rachel, realized Rachel was watching her. Would what she'd been thinking have been visible on her face? In her eyes? Of course it would have. And it was entirely inappropriate.

  Rachel had angrily reminded herself she was a teacher, if only one of the lowly student variety, but a teacher for all that. She was in a position of trust, and Quinn was a student. My god! What could she be thinking?

  Hardly daring to breathe, Rachel had backed out of the shower room. And she'd wanted to run out of the locker room, flee from the confusion that the glimpse of Quinn Farrelly's naked body had caused within her.

  But she knew she couldn't go outside, face the other students like this. They'd know something was wrong. And she couldn't go outside without Quinn Farrelly either. She'd have to let Quinn know she was here.

  Rachel had made herself pause, wait until her breathing was steady, until she was once more in command of herself. Then she coughed loudly.

  "Quinn? Are you still here?" Her voice was almost even.

  Quinn appeared in the doorway, her towel wrapped around her like a sarong. "Sure, Rach — I mean, Miss Richardson. Sorry I'm late. I slipped and the floor was all gritty. I thought it would be easier to take another shower."

  "Did you, did you hurt yourself?" Rachel asked, and Quinn shook her head.

  "Nah. Just a scrape." She indicated a red graze on one knee.

  Rachel took a step closer and then stopped. "It looks like you've broken the skin. I think you should have the nurse put some antiseptic on it. In fact, you'd better go along now, before your next class."

  "Sure." Quinn shrugged. "I'll just get dressed."

  She went to step out of the towel, and Rachel quickly turned to the door. "I'll wait outside for you." And she'd slipped out into the sunshine, the fresh air, away from the temptation of again looking at Quinn. And how it made her feel.

  How many times over the years had Rachel taken out that memory, relived it, examined it, and replaced it? Rachel sighed. Well, there was one good thing. She was no longer Quinn Farrelly's teacher. No, now she was her boss, reminded a ruthless little voice inside her. Had the situation changed? It would seem not.

  Impatiently Rachel grabbed up her towel and draped it concealingly over her shoulder before she left her room and hurried downstairs.

  "What took you so long, Mum?" demanded Adam. "We've been waiting hours for you."

  "Sorry." She flashed a quick glance at Quinn, who was smiling at the impatient children.

  Rachel swallowed, deciding she had never looked as good in that old swimsuit as Quinn now did. "The suit fits okay then?" she said quickly to disguise her interest.

  "Well enough." Quinn laughed.

  "Let's go." Adam danced over to the door and reached up to flick on the pool lights.

  Rachel opened the back door, and they all filed outside, the children running excitedly ahead.

  The turquoise water glistened under the lights, coolly welcoming. Soon they were all in the water, luxuriating in its refreshing softness.

  "This is fantastic," Quinn said, wiping her wet hair back from her face. "Really cools your body temperature down."

  "Watch me swim, Mummy." Katie pushed herself away from the side of the pool, and Rachel started in concern.

  "She's okay," Quinn reassured Rachel quickly. "She swims well. I had her taught when she was a baby."

  Rachel watched as the child moved through the water. "She's really good."

  Quinn smiled, obviously pleased.

  "She reminds me of you," Rachel added softly, and Quinn raised her eyebrows.

  "Does she?"

  "You were always the star swimmer on the school team. Katie has your style."

  Quinn looked back at her daughter. "The guy who taught her to swim said she was a natural. Maybe I'll get her coaching when she gets older." She leaned back against the side of the pool. "In a couple of years she can decide if she's interested or not. I just don't want to be one of those mothers who force their kids to perform. You know, overachieving parents."

  Rachel nodded. "I think it's important kids enjoy what they're doing. I can't see any point in pressuring them." Rachel turned back to look at Quinn.

  "Me neither." Quinn was watching her daughter, her elbows resting on the side of the pool, her wet bathing suit clinging to the contours of her body.

  And suddenly Rachel found herself staring at the perfect symmetry of Quinn's broad shoulders, her long neck, firm chin. She had that smooth light olive skin that always looked slightly tanned, and Rachel could see a faint, fine line on her muscular arms where the sun had darkened her skin to her shirt line.

  The water gleamed on her shoulders, rivulets running downward to disappear between her small breasts. Rachel felt her cheeks flame as she realized she could see the faint outline of Quinn's nipples. She had a burning urge to lean forward, catch those droplets of water with the tip of her tongue, and then lose herself in the mystery of that forbidden cleavage. What if she was to . . .

  Rachel's heartbeats accelerated, and she turned and dived into the water, away from Quinn, away from the almost irresistible temptation.

  Adam blew up an inflatable beach ball, and they had an energetic and noisy game of water polo.

  "Not so loud, Adam," Rachel admonished her son as she clung to the side of the pool to catch her breath. "Lucky the neighbors are all out."

  "Noise is excused on New Year's Eve." Quinn laughed and threw Rachel the ball.

  Rachel caught it and sank below the surface, coming up coughing and spluttering. "I wasn't ready for that," she protested.

  "You have to stay alert, Mum," said Fliss. "That's what it's all about."

  "No doubt," Rachel replied dryly as Quinn laughed.

  "Well, guess who's got the ball. Let's get her, kids."

  Rachel pushed herself away from the side of the pool, aware of the splashing behind her as she headed for the shallow end. Suddenly long arms reached out, wrapped around her waist, halted her progress. She was pulled back against a strong, contoured frame, unexpected warmth spreading over her body.

  Chapter Ten

  She could feel the smoothness of Quinn's legs tangled with her own, the jut of Quinn's hip, the firmness of her breasts pressed against her bare back. And Rachel dropped the ball in surprise.

  "I've got it," yelled Adam, pouncing on the ball. "Another point for us. Quinn and me win."

  It seemed like an hour rather than seconds before Quinn's arms released Rachel. Her feet touched the bottom, and she struggled to draw a steadying breath before she looked at Quinn.

  The other woman's lips curved upward in that teasing smile that Rachel had remembered all those years. And yet Rachel was sure there was something else in Quinn's eyes, an awareness that struck a chord deep inside Rachel and made her face burn again.

  "Gotcha," Quinn said easily enough, and Rachel made herself smile back.

  "I think you've had more practice at this than I have."

  Quinn's smile faltered just slightly. "I think you may be right," she said softly, ambiguously, as she turned back to the children.

  Eventually they climbed out of the pool and returned to the house, drying off and changing back into their clothes.

  Rachel suggested a drink and cookies, and the children agreed excitedly. She glanced at her kitchen clock as she crossed to the fridge to get milk for the children. She had set the kettle boiling to make some tea for herself and Quinn.

  Quinn was in the living room with the children after Rachel had refused her offer of help. They'd switched on the television as the New Year's fireworks spectacular from Sydney was due to start any minute.

  Rachel set the drinks on a tray and reached for the cookies, dropping one as she recalled that torrid moment in the pool when Quinn had had her arms around her. Rachel had thought she'd ignite she felt so hot. Surely Quinn must have felt it too.

  Rachel paused, the biscuit barrel in her hand. Did Quinn realize just what effect her nearness had on Rachel? A tiny quiver of excitement fluttered in the pit of Rachel's stomach, grew just as suddenly and raced around inside her, only to settle and intensify. She felt damp, and her nipples hardened. For one horrifying moment she thought her legs would give way beneath her, and she put the biscuit barrel back on the counter in case it slipped from her trembling fingers.

  All those years ago there had been that unsettling awareness. And now, Rachel knew without doubt she was physically attracted to Quinn Farrelly. And the thought filled her with terror. And a tumult of excitement.

  No one, not even Rob, had caused such a burning need inside her, this almost overwhelming craving to want to . . . Rachel bit her lip. She wanted to pull Quinn into her arms, hold her close, feel every curve of her strong body, her nearness, her heat.

  "Rachel?"

  Rachel started guiltily.

  Quinn was standing in the doorway. "Sure you don't need any help?"

  "Oh no. Thanks." Rachel pulled herself together. "I was just about to put the cookies on a plate."

  "Okay." Quinn frowned slightly. "It's just that the kettle is about to whistle itself off the counter."

  "Oh." Rachel reached out and flicked off the switch. "Sorry. I must have been daydreaming."

  "Sure you're not too tired for this?" Quinn had taken a few steps into the small kitchen. "I mean, it is late and I, well, I didn't intend staying so long. Katie and I could go on home."

  "No. I'm fine," Rachel reassured her quickly. "Really. And I do want to watch the fireworks on Sydney Harbor."

  Quinn held her gaze. "Shall I take the kids' drinks in for you?" she asked.

  "That would be great." She poured the hot water into the teapot. "How do you have your tea?"

  "Black, thanks. Not too strong. With one sugar." Quinn left with the tray of drinks, and Rachel tried to relax.

  She finished making the tea and, taking a steadying breath, she joined the others in the living room.

  The children were sitting on the large beanbag chair that Adam had dragged in from the garage, all three happily munching on cookies. Rachel handed Quinn her tea and sat down on the couch beside her. Luckily it was a long couch, she told herself derisively, although not long enough. She was sure she could feel Quinn's heat reaching her.

  "You're just in time, Mum," said Adam. "The fireworks are just starting."

  Rachel picked up the remote control and turned the volume down a little as the fireworks began to explode, bathing the beautiful harbor in starbursts of color. They sat back and enjoyed the spectacular.

  Rachel left the TV on after the fireworks ended, and both she and Quinn finished their drinks. One by one the children dozed off.

  "Did you watch this on TV last year?" Quinn asked softly so she didn't wake the now sleeping children. "It seems to get better each year."

  Rachel agreed. "And it's amazing the way they get the fireworks to look like water cascading off the bridge."

  Quinn drained her cup, and Rachel switched off the television set.

  "Well, a new year dawns," she said quietly, watching the three children sleeping in the large beanbag chair.

  "Do you believe in a new beginning?" Quinn asked, and Rachel turned back to her.

  "I guess I do." She gave a soft laugh. "But the more cynical among us would say it is just another day."

  Quinn smiled too. "Doesn't sound as good, does it?"

  "Not at all. Want another cup of tea?"

  "Not unless I want to stay awake until another day dawneth." She chuckled. "Too much tea has the same effect on me late at night as coffee does. Wakes me up. I'd better get Katie home. Perhaps I could ring you tomorrow before I bring some stuff over to the flat?"

  "We'll be here all day. My mother and my aunt will probably be coming for lunch."

  Rachel went to stand up, but Quinn had moved before she did. She reached out, took hold of Rachel's hand, and pulled her to her feet. And she didn't immediately release Rachel's hand. Rachel paused, her whole body suddenly tense as they stood together.

  "Rachel, I" — Quinn looked at the floor and then back at Rachel — "I just wanted to say thank you."

  "What for?" Rachel's voice sounded tight and strained, and she swallowed quickly.

  "For everything. The job. The flat. For not holding my jail time against me." Quinn shrugged. "For giving me a chance, I guess."

  "We all make mistakes, Quinn, large and small. Some of us just get caught out more than others. You paid for what you did, and everyone deserves a second chance."

  "I don't think I'll ever pay for what I did," Quinn said softly, her thumb absently rubbing the back of Rachel's hand.

  Rachel was sure Quinn was unaware she was doing it, but her touch sent tiny spirals of sensations tingling up Rachel's arm.

  "Nothing will bring back a lost life," Quinn was continuing. "But I suppose all I can do is try to be the best person I can for the rest of my life."

  Rachel nodded, unable to speak at the look of abject sadness on the other woman's face. Quinn slowly let go of Rachel's hand. And Rachel suddenly wanted her to take her hand again. She wanted to pull Quinn into her arms, wrap her arms around her, comfort her.

  Then Quinn leaned forward, lightly, quickly kissed Rachel's cheek. "Happy New Year, Rachel," she said softly, and then she shrugged. "As I said, time to take my sleeping child and go." She walked over and lifted Katie effortlessly into her arms. "What about Adam and Fliss?"

  "They're okay. I'll get them to bed after I see you off." Rachel made herself move, followed Quinn out to the car, watched her settle the drowsy child into her seat belt.

  Quinn straightened. "Might see you tomorrow then if Johnno's not too exhausted from his partying. Otherwise it will be Monday. Okay?"

  "Fine." Rachel smiled. "Anytime."

  Quinn slid into the driver's seat and pulled away, the car stuttering as it labored along the street.

  Rachel stood and watched the disappearing taillights, her hand going to her warm cheek, touching the place where Quinn's so soft lips had brushed her skin.

  On Sunday Rachel's mother and her aunt came over for a late lunch. Afterward the children splashed in the pool while the three women sat in the cool under the pergola. They were reminiscing about Christmas lunch at Colleen's when the phone rang.

  Rachel picked up the cordless phone she'd brought outside with her. "Rachel Weston."

  "Hi, Rachel. It's Quinn Farrelly."

  "Oh. Hello." Rachel felt a smile lift the corners of her mouth.

  "About my big move. We've all decided it would be best if we bring my stuff over to the flat first thing in the morning, when we're fresh. That's if, in the bright light of day, you haven't had second thoughts about renting the unit to us."

  "No, of course I haven't," Rachel reassured her quickly. "And you can move in whenever it suits you. I take it your brother had a good New Year?"

  Quinn laughed softly, the sound flowing over Rachel, enveloping her, making her feel decidedly warm. "You got that right. They didn't get home until three A.M., so Johnno looks pretty much like a sleepwalker."

  There was a muffled comment, and Quinn laughed again. "He says I'm picking on him and that Josie looks no better than he does."

  "And does she?" Rachel asked.

  "Sure she does. We women have to stick together."

  "That we do."

  "Anyway, I'll get everything packed today, and we'll head over in the morning. Not too early. If that fits in with you."

  "That will be fine. We'll be home."

  "All right then. Well," Quinn paused. "I'll see you tomorrow. And Rachel? Thanks again."

  "That's okay. Bye." Rachel broke the connection and set the phone back on the table beside her.

  "You're renting out the unit again?" asked Rachel's mother. Rachel nodded.

  "As of tomorrow."

  Charlotte Richardson frowned. "I'm still not in favor of you having strangers in the house, dear. You just don't know about people these days. Are they more college students?"

  "Not this time." Rachel swallowed. "Actually, it's a woman and her young daughter."

  "Well, that doesn't seem so bad." Rachel's aunt, her mother's sister, took a sip of her tea. "She could be company for you, Rachel. Don't you think so, Charlotte?"

  Rachel's mother continued to frown. "I suppose it's better than students," she agreed reluctantly.

  Adam ran from the pool and picked up his lemonade. "Was that Quinn?" he asked. Rachel nodded. "Are they coming today?"

  "In the morning."

  "Oh." Adam sighed loudly. "Katie could have come swimming with us if they'd come today." He took a gulp of his drink and returned to the pool. "Quinn and Katie are coming tomorrow," he shouted to his sister.

  "Quinn and Katie?" Charlotte Richardson's eyes narrowed, and there was a moment's telling silence. "Is that Quinn Farrelly?"

  "Yes, it is." Rachel took a drink of her own cup of tea, hoping she didn't sound as defensive as she felt.