Expecting Miracle Twins

‘It sounds as if you’ve visited Roy whenever you can,’ she said softly. ‘There’s not much else you can do if you’re working in Mongolia, but I’m sure your visits mean a lot.’

His gaze met hers and his dark eyes were shimmering and vulnerable and something shifted inside her, almost as if a key had been turned in a lock. Oh, help. She’d been trying not to like Jake Devlin, but now she feared she was beginning to like him very much.

Too much. Was she falling in love?

Surely not. She mustn’t fall in love. Not again. Not ever. Certainly not now.

Gently, she removed her hand from his. ‘Did you take Roy with you to the movies today?’

‘No.’ Jake looked angry as he shook his head. ‘I didn’t even think of it. How selfish am I? Roy would have loved a movie. It was an action-adventure flick and they’re his favourite.’

‘There’s always tomorrow,’ Mattie suggested gently.

His brow cleared. ‘Yes, of course. It’s my last day, but that’s a good idea.’

‘Actually,’ Mattie said, warming to this subject, ‘if Roy’s an outdoor type, he might prefer to be out in the fresh air. You could take him on a ferry ride on the harbour. Do you think he’d be well enough for that?’

‘I reckon he might be. That’s a really good idea.’

The waitress brought Jake’s beer and Mattie couldn’t help watching the movements of his throat as he took a deep draught. Every inch of him seemed breathtakingly male and dark and sexy. She was beginning to think she’d never met such an attractive man.

Apart from her fiancé, the guys she’d dated had all lived in her home town and she’d known them since they’d first grown baby teeth. She’d gone to kindergarten and school with them. They’d belonged to the same pony club and Sunday school. There were no mysteries there.

Jake, on the other hand, was a man surrounded by mystery.

Pink rose in Mattie’s cheeks and Jake watched the telltale colour with mounting dismay.

His reasons for following her to this café weren’t crystal clear to him, but he supposed he’d been hoping for useful tips on how to help old Roy. One thing was certain—he wasn’t here because she looked cute in those sleek grey trousers, or because her new hairstyle looked terrific and brought out the blue in her eyes.

Hell, no. He wasn’t interested in Mattie as a woman.

She wasn’t even close to his type. She was small and serious and mousy. Well, maybe she wasn’t mousy exactly, certainly not now, but she was most definitely small. And earnest.

The heat that had scorched him when she’d touched his hand a few minutes earlier was not what he’d first feared. He couldn’t possibly have experienced hot, pulsing lust for her.

On the other hand, Jake didn’t want to think too hard about why he’d ended it with his latest female companion, Ange, or why he’d started hanging about the kitchen in the flat in the mornings, or why he’d casually asked Mattie to the movies today.

None of his recent behaviour made sense, and Mattie was giving out confusing signals too. It was as if she was trying to impress him and avoid him at the same time and, like a fool, he’d followed her here. He wasn’t in the habit of following women, but he’d convinced himself that she would be able to give him good advice about Roy. That was the only reason he’d come here, wasn’t it?

He wished he felt surer. It was a relief when their meals arrived and he could concentrate on eating.

Mattie declared that her soup was delicious—so full of noodles and vegetables that she ate most of it with chopsticks.

Which caused a tiny problem. Jake found himself watching the way she deftly used the chopsticks. Her hands were pale and delicate and graceful, possibly the prettiest hands he’d ever seen. He pictured her holding a pen or a paintbrush as she created her whimsical works of art.

He thought about the way she’d touched him a few minutes ago. Imagined—

‘What’s the food like in Mongolia?’ she asked.

Jake blinked, dragged his mind into gear. ‘Er…do you mean the traditional food of the locals, or what we eat on the mine site?’

‘Both, I guess.’

‘Our cook serves mainly western food, but the Mongolians eat mutton. Loads of mutton. They even drink the mutton fat. It’s no place for vegetarians.’

Mattie wrinkled her nose. ‘I rather like Mongolian lamb.’

‘The meals in Asian restaurants here in Sydney are nothing like the mutton eaten out on the steppe.’

Mattie accepted this with a shrug. ‘Do you live in barracks, or one of those little round tents?’

‘I have a tent. They call it a ger.’

‘It sounds rather primitive.’

‘Actually, gers aren’t too bad. The walls are made out of layers of felt and they’re quite snug. In winter we have a stove for heating and in summer we can roll up the sides for ventilation.’

‘It’s a very different world, isn’t it?’ she said, glancing out through a window to the city lights.

‘That’s part of the attraction for me. Then again, I grew up in a remote part of the Outback, so I suppose that made it easier for me to fit in.’

Her blue eyes challenged him. ‘Why do you work there?’

Jake had been asked this question before, but suddenly, when Mattie asked him, he wished he had higher motives. There was no point, however, in trying to pretend he was a paragon of virtue.

‘I’m footloose and fancy free,’ he said, aware that his jaw was jutting at a defensive angle. ‘And the job offered a chance to see a really different part of the world. But the big drawcard is that it pays very well.’

He expected to read disapproval in her eyes. To his surprise, she smiled. ‘And when you’re on leave you can party hard.’

‘Mostly.’

The obvious fact that he’d been partying when Mattie had arrived on his doorstep and the equally obvious fact that he was nowhere near a party right now was not something Jake wanted to analyse too closely.

‘Tell me more about your paintings,’ he said quickly to change the subject.

Mattie dismissed this with a graceful wave of her hand. ‘They’re just illustrations for a children’s book.’

‘Do you plan to write the story as well?’

She nodded.

‘Have you been published?’

‘Uh-huh. I’ve had three books published so far.’

‘No kidding?’ He knew his eyes were wide with surprise. ‘That’s terrific. I’ve never met an author.’

‘Most people don’t think of me as a real author. They assume that children’s stories are incredibly easy to write.’

‘How could they be easy, when they’re created entirely out of your imagination? And you don’t just write the stories, you do the illustrations as well. Aren’t children supposed to be the harshest critics of all?’

She nodded and smiled, clearly pleased by his enthusiasm.

‘What are your stories about?’

Now Mattie looked embarrassed. ‘Nothing you’d be interested in.’ She poked her chopsticks into the noodles at the bottom of her bowl.

‘Try me.’

‘Don’t laugh,’ she ordered.

‘Wouldn’t dream of it.’

‘They’re about a little girl called Molly.’ Carefully, she laid the chopsticks across her bowl and sat back, arms folded.

‘And…’ Jake prompted.

‘Molly’s actually a white witch and, when her parents aren’t looking, she has all sorts of adventures. She goes around doing secret good deeds and terrific acts of heroism.’

Just like her creator, Jake thought, and suddenly he was struggling to hide his amusement.

Mattie’s eyes blazed. ‘I knew you’d laugh.’

‘I’m not laughing.’ Why couldn’t he stop smiling? ‘Honestly. I’m seriously impressed. I’m sure Molly’s stories are very popular.’

‘They seem to be.’ Mattie sniffed, then rolled her eyes, as if she hoped he would drop the subject.

To make amends, Jake said quickly, ‘Would you like to go somewhere for coffee?’

She almost glared at him. ‘Don’t you have other plans?’

Across the table their gazes met, and held. Mattie’s eyes were very blue and steady and Jake had the distinct impression she was about to decline his invitation. Which was wise, wasn’t it? After all, they weren’t planning to hook up. To go on somewhere else for coffee implied taking another step—in completely the wrong direction.

Before he could think of a way to extricate himself from this trap of his own making, Mattie smiled slowly.

‘Coffee sounds good,’ she said and her smile deepened, revealing an enchanting dimple. ‘Your place or mine?’

He couldn’t help returning her smile. She was cleverly letting him off the hook, placing them back on their correct footing. As flatmates. For one more day.

‘Try my place,’ he said smoothly. ‘It’s very handy—just around the corner.’

A breeze was blowing in from the harbour and it buffeted them as they walked home, making it hard to talk. When they reached the flat, Brutus was as eager to see Jake as he was to see Mattie. Jake laughed as he gave the little dog a scratch behind his silky ears.

Mattie offered to get the coffee started, but she wasn’t at all surprised when Jake announced that perhaps he would go into the city for a bit, after all. She wasn’t surprised, but she was disappointed, which was utterly silly. She knew she didn’t want to get involved with him. But she also knew she was the kind of girl men left behind when something better came along.

She waved him off with a bright smile. ‘Have a good evening.’

‘You too.’

‘And if you take Roy out tomorrow, I hope you have a good time.’

‘Thanks.’

Jake paused on the front step and looked back at her as she lifted a hand to hold back her windblown hair. She twisted a strand lightly around one finger and tucked it behind her ear. There was nothing flirtatious about the gesture, but Jake seemed to be transfixed. His gaze scalded her as he stared at her hand, and then at her hair, at her ear.

His interest was so intense that Mattie couldn’t breathe. She swayed against the door frame and her legs threatened to give way. She’d never really understood what swooning involved, but she was certain that if Jake had touched her at that moment she would most definitely have swooned.

But Jake gave a slight shake of his head and the possibility vanished. ‘Would you come?’ he asked.

‘Pardon?’ Mattie felt dizzy and confused. What was he asking? Surely he wasn’t inviting her to go out with him for a fun-filled night on the town?

‘Tomorrow,’ he said with a smile. ‘When I take Roy out, will you come too?’

Whoosh! It was like having a bucket of cold water dumped on her head. A chilling dash of reality. Now Mattie knew without a shadow of a doubt that Jake hadn’t followed her to the café tonight because he liked her new hairdo, or the way she looked in her best silk blouse. He hadn’t shared a table with her because he fancied her.

And he wasn’t interested in taking her out now. The unflattering truth was—Jake was the same as everyone else in Mattie’s life—he needed her help.

Sooner or later, everyone turned to Mattie Carey for help, but this time, for her emotional health, she knew she must say no. She shook her head. ‘Sorry.’

He frowned at her. ‘Don’t tell me you have another appointment. What is it this time? A manicure?’

She looked down at her hands. ‘I…I need to get on with my book.’

‘Couldn’t you spare just one day, Mattie?’

His dark eyes were shining with sincerity, but she refused to be taken in. After one meal with him, she was already a mess. If she spent a whole day in his company, she would fall completely under his spell, and that was unwise. It was worse than that. It was ridiculous. Perilous.

She’d tried one long-distance relationship and she was still flinching at the memory almost three years later. She never wanted to embark on another, especially not now when she was on the verge of becoming pregnant with someone else’s baby.

‘It would be a pity if you couldn’t make it,’ Jake said, watching her closely. ‘I know Roy would really enjoy your company.’

At the mention of Roy she started to weaken. Poor old fellow. Was she making a mountain out of a molehill? Jake was simply asking for help to entertain an old man. How could she try to read romance into that?

And, after all, helping people was what she did best.

Behind her back, she crossed her fingers and hoped she wasn’t making a really bad mistake. ‘All right,’ she said. ‘I’ll come for Roy’s sake.’

As soon as Jake left, Mattie spread out her art things and started on another illustration for her book. This was to be a double-page spread and she wanted to create a scene with Molly at her bedroom window, looking out at the city at night.

She would show Molly and her cat silhouetted against the yellow light of the bedroom window. There would be houses dotted through the night, all with brightly lit windows. Through the windows, she would show glimpses of people who needed Molly’s help. A sick child, a lonely old woman, a lost kitten.

In her head, Mattie knew exactly how this illustration should look, but tonight something wasn’t gelling. She couldn’t slip into the ‘zone’—into the happy, creative space that usually cocooned her from the rest of the world while she lost herself in her work.

Tonight Jake Devlin-size thoughts kept intruding. She couldn’t stop thinking about him, kept seeing the way he’d looked at her when she’d innocently fiddled with her hair. She was sure she’d never forget the heart-in-mouth connection she’d felt, as if they were suddenly, perfectly in tune.

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