In the Australian's Bed

‘Oh, yes, this is lovely,’ Mrs Landsdale said as she sat down and glanced around. ‘What a beautiful pond. And a lovely view of the valley beyond too.’

‘Papa chose this spot for the restaurant because of the view. And the trees.’ Too late, she wished she hadn’t brought up her father.

Swiftly she handed them both menus, doing her best not to stare at Jake again. But it was hard not to. Her gaze skimmed over him once more, noting his beautifully tanned skin and the expensive gold watch on his wrist. He had money written all over him. Lots of money.

‘The main-meal menu is on the front,’ she explained. ‘The wine list and desserts are on the back. We don’t have a vast selection at any one time, but the chef does change the menu every two weeks. I can recommend the Atlantic salmon, and the rack of lamb. For dessert, the coconut pudding is to die for. I think you—’

‘If you’re not too busy, Angelina,’ Jake interrupted, ‘could you find the time to sit down and talk at some stage?’

She wanted to. Quite desperately. But pride—and common sense—refused to let her appear too eager.

‘Well, we are pretty busy here on Saturdays.’

‘We can’t linger too long over lunch either, Jake.’ Mrs Landsdale joined in. ‘The property is only open for inspection between two and three. Maybe we could come back here afterwards for afternoon tea and you could catch up on old times with Angelina then. Do you serve afternoon tea here, dear?’

Angelina didn’t answer straight away, her mind ticking over with what the woman had just said about a property inspection. Was Jake a real-estate agent of some kind? Or an investment adviser? What kind of property was the woman talking about?

There were quite a few wineries for sale in the valley at the moment, from the boutique variety to the very large. Arnold’s old place was on the market just up the road. But he was having dreadful trouble selling it. He’d really let the house and garden go since his sister passed away.

There was only one way for Angelina to have all her questions answered. And that was to ask them. Given she’d been going to try to contact Jake anyway in the near future, it seemed silly to pass up this opportunity.

Yet some inner instinct was warning her to do just that, to not let this man back into her life. Not till Alex gave her no choice.

She searched Jake’s face for a hint of the man he’d become, then wished she hadn’t. The sexual power of his eyes was as strong as ever.

There was no use pretending she could just coldly send him away. She had to at least talk to him. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be alone with him. This Mrs Landsdale would be there as a buffer. And a safeguard.

‘We don’t actually serve afternoon tea,’ she said. ‘But the restaurant doesn’t close for lunch till four. You are quite welcome to come back after you’ve inspected this property, if you like. We could have a chat over coffee.’

‘I’d like that,’ Jake returned. ‘Give me an opportunity to find out what you’ve been up to all these years.’

‘Same here,’ she replied, pleased that she could sound unconcerned, when inside she was severely agitated. ‘Now, since time is of the essence, perhaps you might like to have a quick look at the menu and give me your full order straight away. Either that, or I could take your drinks order now, then send a girl over in a couple of minutes for your meal order.’

‘No, no, we’ll order everything right now,’ the grey-haired lady said and fell to examining the menu. ‘Jake, you decide on the drinks whilst I make up my mind on the food. You know my taste in wine.’

‘I see you have a suggested glass of a different Ambrosia wine with each course,’ Jake said as he examined the menu. ‘You know, Angelina…’ he rested the menu on the edge of the table and glanced up at her ‘…I’ve never seen any Ambrosia wines in bottle shops, or on Sydney restaurant wine lists. Why is that?’

‘Oh. We—er—export most of our wine. Here in Australia, we’ve only been selling bottles at the cellar door. Up till now, that is. Ambrosia Wines does have a booth at next weekend’s food and wine expo at Darling Harbour, so hopefully we will be in some Sydney restaurants soon.’

‘I see.’ Jake dropped his eyes and picked up the menu again. ‘These suggested glasses should suit you, Dorothy. You like to try different wines. But I won’t indulge myself. Not when I’m driving. So just mineral water for me, thanks, Angelina.’

‘Flat or sparkling?’ Angelina asked crisply, having extracted her order book and Biro from her skirt pocket.

‘Sparkling, I think,’ he replied. ‘To match my mood.’ And he threw her a dazzling smile that sixteen years ago would have rattled her brains and sent her heartbeat into overdrive.

Angelina’s heart was still going pretty fast behind her ribs, but her brain hadn’t gone to total mush. She flashed him back what she considered was a brilliantly cool smile, the sort of smile she could never have produced at fifteen.

‘Sparkling mineral water,’ Angelina murmured as she jotted it down. ‘Now, what about your meal order?’

When she glanced up from her notebook again, she found Jake staring at her left hand—her ringless left hand. Her fingers tightened around the notebook.

‘You’re not married,’ he said, his tone startled.

‘No,’ she returned in what she hoped was a crisp, it’s-really-none-of-your-business tone. ‘I’m not.’

‘I can’t believe it! I thought you’d have half a dozen kids by now.’

‘And I thought you’d be in jail,’ she countered.

Mrs Landsdale laughed. ‘That’s telling you, Jake. Now, stop badgering the girl and just tell her what you want to eat for now. Keep the third degree till later. But I must warn you, dear, he’s the very devil when he starts questioning people. Not only is he not in jail these days, but he’s also a lawyer. And a very good one, too.’

Angelina wished her mouth hadn’t dropped open at this news. But Jake Winters…a lawyer?

‘Yes, I know,’ he remarked drily. ‘I don’t blame you for being surprised. Sometimes I’m a bit surprised myself. But Dorothy’s right. We’ll keep all this till later.’

Angelina digested this astonishing revelation with mixed emotions. Was this good news or bad news? She supposed it was a lot better than the father of her son being in jail. But a lawyer? She couldn’t think. Too many shocks in too short a time. Best she just get on with what she was doing and think about it later.

‘Have you made up your mind yet, Mrs Landsdale?’ she asked the grey-haired lady.

‘Do call me Dorothy,’ the woman returned with a warm smile. ‘And yes, I’ll have the Atlantic salmon. No entrée. I’ll save some room for that coconut pudding you mentioned. I’m very partial to coconut.’

‘Me, too,’ Angelina concurred. ‘And you, Jake? Made up your mind yet?’

‘The same. I’m easy.’

Angelina wanted to laugh. Easy? If there was one thing Jake Winters would never be, it was easy.

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