Falling In Love Again

By Marilyn Forsyth

A charming adventurer. A pragmatic paleontologist. A hundred–million–year–old treasure buried in the Australian outback.

The last person Gemma Stephens expects to meet in the tiny, remote, opal–mining town of Rainbow Cliffs is Jamie Coltrane, her university boyfriend who chose his past over their potential future. Now, seven years later, he is the only obstacle between her and the goal she has been pursuing tirelessly since he left. The goal that means everything for her future and that of her six–year–old son, the son Jamie doesn't know is his.

Jamie has long outgrown the wanderlust that caused him to leave Gemma, and he and his father have settled into Rainbow Cliffs, making a living out of opal mining and running the only accommodation in town. But now a big find – a once–in–a–lifetime find – has opened up opportunities that Jamie never thought possible. Opportunities that mean everything for his father and himself.

Fate may have thrown them back together, but this is no happy reunion. There is only one fossil, and there can be only one winner in this battle between preservation and prosperity. Gemma and Jamie may have the chance to find true love – or be torn apart, this time forever.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Apr 1, 2017
• ISBN: 9781489240996

Marilyn Forsyth

Marilyn Forsyth would love to live in a world where everyone's story has an ending as happy as those in her books. Her emotion-packed outback romances combine hunky heroes and huggable heroines with settings in some of Australia's most remote and beautiful places. When she's not bunkered down in her peacock-blue writing cave creating unique characters for readers to fall in love with she can be found travelling with her other half, drawing and painting, or scouting out local cafes in search of the perfect coffee and cake combo. She has two grown sons and lives, surrounded by bush, with her husband in the foothills of a coastal village south of Sydney. You can check out her website and her Facebook author page and she also blogs regularly at breathlessinthebush.blogspot.com.au.

Book preview

Chapter 1

James Andrew Coltrane. The people you meet when you don’t have a shotgun.

Gemma Stephens halted in the motel doorway, staring at the man sprawled back in the chair behind the motel reception desk with his eyes closed to the world. Her head dropped, along with her shoulders. What the hell had she done to deserve this? Hadn’t life thrown her more than her fair share of curveballs already?

Tiptoeing back out was appealing but not really an option, given the circumstances of her being here, so she swallowed, sucked in a deep breath and straightened. ‘Jamie.’ Her voice reverberated through the white-tiled foyer, a brusque echo of a once-loved name.

His eyes flew open, his gaze darting wildly around before finally coming to rest on her. ‘Gem?’ The deep, familiar voice echoed her disbelief, but lacked the sharp edge.

Over the years, she’d played this scene a thousand times in her head; planned every word she’d say. But now, instead of the smile of indifference she’d always pictured herself wearing, sweat soaked her upper lip and her mouth felt as dry as the Australian desert she’d spent the last two days driving through to get here.

The end of the Earth. Rainbow Cliffs.

‘I don’t bel—’

‘It’s been—’

They both spoke at once.

Jamie uncoiled from the chair, rising to tower over her even across the desk separating them, all the while regarding her with that smile—a beautiful slow curving of the lips that had always turned her knees to jelly. Why, why, why did it still have the same effect?

Briefly other memories stirred; unexpectedly tender memories that tightened the back of her throat. She shook her head, self-protection kicking back in. No way was she going there.

Not for him. Not after what he’d done.

Leave, the most primal of instincts urged. Leave now.

But despite the demand for flight her legs refused to respond. And where the hell was that brilliant dialogue she’d worked so hard to perfect? Pfft! Oh, there it flew, out through the glass front door into dusty oblivion. All she seemed capable of was a mute stare while a series of emotional fireworks rocketed through her insides.

Jamie gave an awkward laugh. ‘It’s been a long time.’

She nodded. ‘Seven years.’ And three months, she could have added but didn’t. Instant recall of the day her heart had been torn from her chest would give too much away.

‘That long?’ His gaze lingered on her mouth before searching out her eyes. ‘Seems like yesterday.’

‘More like a lifetime to me.’ A lifetime that had seen more than its fair share of hurt and humiliation following the end of their relationship.

She raked her gaze over him. Dammit! The no-good heartbreaker had no right to look this good, with his broad-shouldered body every bit as imposing as she recalled. The dark, dangling dreadlocks of their uni days had given way to a shorter shaggy cut, a much more boyish look, and one at odds with the five-o’clock shadow emphasising the strong jawline. On his left cheek an unfamiliar scar registered. She scanned for other changes. Nothing obvious.

At least the only physical resemblance to the son he’d fathered lay in the shared ocean-blue of their eyes and, thankfully, Roger had never had reason to suspect he was not Drew’s biological dad. In every other respect, her son—with his blonde mop, snub nose and little heart-shaped face—looked exactly like her.

A pang of homesickness stabbed at her heart; hopefully this job wouldn’t take long and she’d be home to her beautiful boy in a couple of days.

Jamie reached out to still the soft strains emanating from the radio, the muscles in his arm bulging against the sleeve of an incredibly badly ironed shirt.

He continued to rivet her with his gaze while he leaned forward and placed his hands on the desk. ‘You look ... good, Gem.’ His eyes, eyes she’d once been happy to drown in, roamed over her. ‘Really good.’

Though she fought desperately against it, the old intimate shortening of her name, the nostalgia arising from youthful memories, that smile, all combined to send a treacherous rush of raw heat through her body. Thankfully the cool of the foyer enabled her to stay composed, to keep her face and her voice neutral. ‘So what happened to the dreadies?’

‘I guess I grew up,’ he said with a rueful chuckle.

She nodded. ‘Not before time.’

If he sensed the criticism, he ignored it. ‘You’ve changed your hair, too. You never used to pull it back. I liked it down.’

She shrank away from the hand he stretched towards her, before those square-tipped fingers that had once so intimately known every inch of her made contact. One touch might prove one too many.

‘I prefer it up.’

He gave her a quizzical look then shrugged. ‘Fair enough. Either way, you’ve gotta be the best-looking girl in town.’

His voice was warm, his tone cajoling, but she brushed off the praise. ‘From the almost total absence of life I noticed while driving through your town there’s not a whole lot of competition.’

He shook his head, a wry grin playing around his mouth. ‘Same old Gem. You never could accept a compliment.’

It wasn’t the fact that he could still read her that nettled so much as that he believed he still knew her. He was way too sure of himself. How she’d ever allowed herself to fall for his brand of charm was a sad reflection on the girl she’d once been. But fall she had. Hard. And the pain of it still carried all the sting of a reopened wound.

She refused to let him see the effect he had on her. ‘A girl would have to be pretty stupid to believe everything some guy tells her. And I’m not stupid.’ Naive, yes; in fact laughably gullible when you first knew me, but that girl no longer exists.

He probed her face, his expression speculative. ‘Stupid is one thing you never were.’

With an easy strength, he stepped from behind the desk, his forceful presence taking possession of the space around him as he moved. She gulped. Was he coming to take possession of her too?

* * *

Jamie’s eyes roved over Gem as he zeroed in. Beneath the denim mini-skirt her legs stretched, bare and shapely, all the way down to her pink-painted toes. The arms folded across the close-fitting white t-shirt did nothing to hide the slim waist, the full breasts. Breathing in the familiar flowery scent surrounding her, he surrendered to flashes of memory so graphic his heartbeat accelerated wildly.

His gaze moved further up. The blonde hair pulled severely back from her face lent an uncharacteristic sternness to her mouth, but it was her eyes that held him. The startling shade of summer-sky blue he’d fallen for at first sight all those years ago.

‘What on earth are you doing out here?’ he asked.

‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’ The glance she flashed around was one generally reserved for cockroaches.

He did his best not to sound as hurt as he felt. ‘Aww, c’mon Gem, anyone’d think you’re not too fussed with my little town.’

Her silence spoke for itself; that was exactly what she thought. Disappointment knifed through him. For whatever reason, his first love’s approval of the place he now called home was important to him.

He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. ‘You know, Rainbow Cliffs is actually Australia’s best-kept secret holiday destination.’

Her eyebrows arched in scepticism.

‘Of course, it’d be better for business if it wasn’t quite so secret.’ He shrugged to impress upon her that it wasn’t a big deal. ‘One thing I can guarantee, though, is that the Underground is the best motel in town.’

‘Really?’ Her tone was more doubtful than curious as she gave the reception area another once-over.

He followed her gaze, attempting to see the scene through her eyes. Small, tiled foyer, bar fridge in one corner, two orange vinyl lounges, melamine coffee table piled high with dog-eared travel magazines—okay, maybe she had a point.

He offered her a sheepish grin. ‘Truth?’ She gave a wary nod. ‘The Underground is the only motel in town.’

She gave a half-amused hmph, her features softening enough to give some encouragement.

‘It really is good to see you, Gem.’ He meant every word. Her closeness was triggering an avalanche of memories and suddenly he wanted to touch her so badly he couldn’t stop if he tried. Both arms encircled her slim shoulders and pulled her towards him, and it was several seconds before it registered that the small-framed body he was rocking back and forth felt about as receptive to his hug as a piece of four-by-two. He let her go and stepped back.

Brrr! Late summer blazed outside the door but that was definitely ice in the eyes she narrowed on him.

Silence lay thick between them as he tried to puzzle her out. Wait a sec. Maybe she was married? If so, his behaviour was completely inappropriate. He glanced down at her left hand. No wedding ring.

‘So ... here alone?’ he probed.

‘Yes.’

‘Okay.’ He nodded toward her suitcase. ‘Staying long?’

She hesitated, frowning. ‘I’m here with work. It depends.’

‘On what?’ he asked, trying to dispel the tension, injecting as much friendly interest as possible into his voice. ‘On me behaving myself?’ He placed his hand on his heart and winked. ‘You of all people should know I can’t promise that.’ Her impassive features gave nothing away.

‘The weather then?’ He hurried on, searching for the right joking tone with which to break through the uncomfortable silence. ‘If that’s the case, you’ll be wanting to leave in the morning, before the sun gets hot enough to fry an egg on the iron roof of the shed out there. Literally.’ He gestured through the front door then turned to scrutinise her face, searching for the girl he once knew. ‘Do you still like runny eggs for breakfast, Gem?’

She met his smile with a quick headshake and a continued, exasperating gaze of indifference. This was becoming more and more awkward. The curt responses, the disapproval in every line of her face: this distancing thing she had going on was certainly working for her. When, and why, had those laughing eyes of hers become so serious? And how could she still look so gorgeous yet be so ... different? The sweet, soft Gem of memory had precious little in common with this prickly stranger.

‘What does it depend on?’ he almost demanded.

She sighed. ‘On how quickly I find what I’m looking for. So, if I could have the key to my room? I believe a reservation’s been made.’

‘I don’t think so.’ He ran his finger down to the only name in the check-in book. ‘Nope. The only name I have is Angela Dow.’

‘Angela’s my boss. She had to pull out unexpectedly. I’m here instead.’ Her tone implied that being sent here was a fate worse than death.

Being judged and found wanting did not sit well with Jamie but his father had drilled into him the need for geniality with any guest, no matter how rude. And added to that was the fact that this girl had once meant something to him.

‘No worries. Can I have your driver’s licence please?’

She handed it over and he scanned it before adjusting the name in the register. He noted that she still went by her maiden name, Stephens. Not that that automatically meant she was single, but if she wasn’t in fact married then maybe the cause of the tension radiating off her was as simple as being nonplussed at this unexpected encounter.

Or ... it could be embarrassment at the way she’d left him way back when. As soon as the chance presented itself, he’d let her know he held no grudges; he’d long ago accepted his part in the end of their relationship.

Meanwhile, he’d do his best to overlook the cool manner, be his usual friendly self, and wait in hope for the return of the Gem of old. ‘Let me show you to your room.’ He grabbed a key from the wall behind the desk then took hold of the handle of her suitcase. ‘If you’d like to follow me.’

Their footsteps and the suitcase wheels echoed on the tiles as he led her down the earth-carved hallway past a number of passageways branching to either side. He explained as they went that one of the benefits of living underground was the saving on electricity; with the temperature a constant 23 degrees C, air-conditioning was minimised. Also, the corridors needed no lighting during the day because the airshafts, cut into the rock of the hill above them, doubled as skylights.

When he flicked on the lights in the room, a gratifying gasp came from behind. He knew she’d love it.

She moved past him, eyes wide, gazing around. ‘Wow! I’ve never seen anything even like this. It’s a ... a cave.’

This time the smile reached all the way to light up those blue, blue eyes. Somehow he managed to drag his gaze away to survey the space with attempted objectivity. Yep, definitely something special. The lack of definition between wall and ceiling made the room appear to curve around, encompassing everything in its cool comfort. The sandstone from which it was carved had been left in its natural state, apart from a silicon seal to counteract the inevitable dust.

His gaze returned to her face. In the soft glow of the wall lights her eyes were luminous. ‘Glad you like it.’

‘Like it? Are you kidding? I love it!’ She spun around, another flash of her old enthusiasm reasserting itself.

He swallowed hard; this re-emergence of the girl he used to know was playing havoc with his hormones. Here was his golden girl, with her sun-kissed skin and a laugh that bubbled up like a mountain spring. And as hard as he tried to keep his eyes off her, he couldn’t stop staring at the nape of her neck, where honey-blonde hair tapered into golden down, and he remembered how it tasted to kiss her there.

She swung back to him. Their eyes met. Held.

He moved closer to her. ‘Gem, I—’

A hand slashed out. ‘Don’t! Just ... don’t.’ For endless seconds she stared at the floor. When she eventually looked up her features were once again tight. ‘I’m sure I’ll be quite comfortable, thank you.’

Unprepared for the return of the ice princess, he groped for something innocuous to say, to act as if the brief moment of intimacy had never happened. ‘You haven’t answered my question yet. What sort of work brings you to the Cliffs?’

* * *

What was she doing here? Gemma had to think hard. Jamie’s closeness had her dazed, disoriented. Her heart was thudding like a bass drum, which distressed her no end, and too many conflicting thoughts were muddling her head to effectively sort through them all. She concentrated on answering his question.

‘The museum I work for—’ She stopped, seized by sudden apprehension. The discovery of the fossil was not yet public knowledge. For the time being any information about what might turn out to be the find of the century for the Earth Sciences department might best be kept secret.

‘Actually, I’d prefer not to discuss it. And I’ve got things to do, so ... ’ She stared pointedly at the door, hoping he’d take the hint, silently begging him to leave so she could escape the searing search of his eyes.

‘Yep, me too,’ he said at last.

As he turned to leave, her thoughts abruptly gelled, reminding her of what she needed to do. ‘Before you go, do you know a woman called Louise Parker?’

He turned back, his eyes glittering with undisguised interest. ‘Sure do.’

She pulled her phone from her handbag. ‘I’ve been trying to call her throughout the day but I can’t get through.’

He had the bad grace to laugh at her. ‘That’d be because of the almost total lack of mobile coverage this far west.’

‘Oh.’ Places like that still existed? Good grief, talk about back of beyond. She lifted her chin, refusing to be made to feel a fool. ‘How can I get in touch with her then?’

‘There’s the landline at reception. You’re welcome to use it anytime. Or you could check at the community health centre just down the road. She works there.’

‘How far? Can I walk?’ After the long drive, a stretch of her legs, some fresh air and the opportunity to put some physical distance between herself and Jamie sounded pretty damn good. She could do with putting him out of her mind while she got her head straight.

‘Not too far. I guess so.’ Jamie rubbed at his darkened jaw, eyeing her as though he wanted to ask more.

‘I’ll go for a wander then,’ she said before he could question her further.

‘Got a hat? It’s mighty hot outside this time of year.’

‘I can handle the heat,’ she assured him.

He looked about to say something more, then obviously thought better of it. His hands went palms up in defeat. ‘You’ve been warned.’

At the front door he handed her a bottle of ice-cold water from the drinks fridge in the foyer. ‘Here. At least take this.’

He outlined directions to the health centre then, doing his best to nonplus her again, said, ‘We have a great restaurant here in the motel. How about dinner with me tonight? For old times’ sake.’

Uh oh. An evening reminiscing with this man was something she really didn’t need. ‘It’s been a long day. I’ll just get takeaway tonight.’ Happy with the excuse, she gave a quick apologetic smile. The enjoyment was short-lived.

Jamie’s lips curved up. ‘Gem, this is an opal town, permanent population in summer of fifty people. The pub bistro only opens on the weekend and there is no takeaway. Let’s make it six-thirty, okay?’

She digested the information in silence. That sucked. And basically left her with no choice. Her stomach was already rumbling at the thought of food; she hadn’t eaten since the stale ham-and-cheese sandwich, bought at midday at a petrol station and wolfed down while driving.

‘Okay,’ she muttered.

He threw her a wink. ‘It’s a date.’

Her rebuttal was instant. ‘No it isn’t. But a girl’s got to eat.’

Outside was stifling. The afternoon sun blazing overhead together with the heat emanating from the bare red earth combined to suck all energy from her, and now the idea of using distance to help sort out her feelings didn’t seem nearly as clever as it had earlier. She pivoted on the spot; the walk could come later. A shower might help relieve this pent-up tension in her body.

Thankfully the foyer was deserted when she re-entered. For the moment at least she was spared an I-told-you-so comment, not to mention the ordeal of Jamie’s unnerving impact.

Under the shower, with the cool water drops seeping into her senses, she at last managed to release the tight grip she’d been holding on herself. Heady with relief, she relaxed against the glass for several moments before turning off the spray and stepping from the recess. After drying herself off, she wrapped the towel around her and exited the bathroom.

A rap on the door made her jump, immediately followed by the scratch of a key in the lock.

What the hell ... ?

‘Who’s there?’ She pressed her body flat against the door, her fingers tightening on the handle.

‘Gem?’ Jamie sounded taken aback. ‘You were quick.’

She ignored the comment. ‘Why are you trying to get into my room?’

‘I didn’t know you were back and I wanted to surprise you. I’ve got a bottle of Oyster Bay for your fridge.’

Oyster Bay wine. Her favourite. With startling clarity a memory flooded back: a warm mess of sheets; Jamie brandishing a bottle of sauvignon blanc; the musky smell of his skin, the soft scratch of his beard as he captured her all-too-willing mouth with his, the tang of gooseberries on his tongue.

She shook her head to clear the picture. No, dammit! That wasn’t what she needed to remember. Up popped a more sobering image; her much-younger self straddling the edge of his unmade bed, dressed in an old t-shirt of his she’d loved to wear because it smelled of musk and sweat and spice, smelled of him.

Hair wet from the shower, he’d stood in front of her, deliciously half-naked. ‘I’m dropping out of uni.’

If he’d declared his intention to sprout wings and fly off into the sunset she couldn’t have been more stunned.

‘You can’t! What about your degree!’ It was the first thing that popped into her head.

‘I know.’ He wouldn’t meet her eyes. ‘But the exams are only two weeks away, and what with working double shifts at the bar and trying to co-ordinate the student union, I haven’t had time to study. Plus that bloody Devane failed my last assignment.’ He paced the floorboards, restless as a cage-bound lion. ‘I’ve got no hope of passing and I—I ... ’ He grasped for words. ‘Look, Gem, the last six months with you have been fantastic, but ... my dad’s passing through Sydney tomorrow, headed for Perth. He’s come up with this great idea of converting old shipping containers into accommodation for fly-in-fly-out miners. It’s a guaranteed money-spinner and he needs my help to get it started.’

Jamie’s long-ago words had shattered every hope and every dream that Gemma, in her youthful naivety, had come to expect would be hers. The episode had happened a lifetime ago but it still hurt—hurt like hell—that she’d been idiot enough to believe his promises of love and forever-afters just because she’d wanted that from him. Despite what she’d gleaned about his nomadic upbringing at the whim of his widowed father, she’d convinced herself he was ready to settle down. With her.

That’s what people did when they loved each other, wasn’t it? Even if they were only nineteen and twenty-one.

She’d made the mistake back then of trusting Jamie Coltrane with her heart, and if there was one thing Gemma hated it was making mistakes. Falling for a guy with obvious commitment issues had been a pretty big one. But then, marrying Roger within months of Jamie’s departure hadn’t turned out to be too good a decision either.

Bottom line: for whichever reason, her heart was now off-limits. To all men.

She leaned her forehead against the door. ‘Please go away.’

‘But you used to get such a kick out of surprises.’ Was that hurt in his tone?

‘Used to.’ She turned to press her bare back to the door, determined not to feel his eyes burning through it.

‘So ... what? You want me to back off? Pretend we never meant anything to one another? Is that it?’

‘Look, I don’t want any special treatment from you. I’m just another guest in your motel.’

‘Can’t we discuss this face to face?’

‘No.’

‘Why not?’

She glanced down at the wet towel covering her nakedness. ‘I don’t owe you an explanation. Stop bothering me. Just go.’

The silence lasted for a dozen heartbeats. ‘You really have changed, haven’t you?’

Why the reproach in his voice rankled, she couldn’t explain. Why should she give a damn about what Jamie Coltrane thought of her? He meant nothing to her now. ‘I have, and I don’t appreciate your ... your over-familiarity.’

‘Yeah, well, you’ve made that clear. Apologies for presuming to think I knew you.’ She imagined the muscles around his jaw tightening, the way they always did when he was irritated. ‘You want to play ice princess? No skin off my nose, sweetheart. See you at dinner.’

The wounding words as his footsteps faded away made her jaw clench. She almost opened the door to let fly, wanting to yell after him that things weren’t always what they appeared, that with everything she’d gone through she had every right to be the way she was. But the words evaporated in her mouth. What was the point? He’d only demand further explanation and she refused to go there.

Instead, she threw her body across the bed and vented her frustrations in a flat-out assault on the pillows. How could she have let him get to her? Punch. What was with that reaction of hers to the ice princess tag? Thump. Why the hell was her heart still hammering twenty to the dozen? Whack!

She paused for breath. Why? Because this was Jamie. Her Jamie. Her first lover. The boy who’d once set her heart racing, her spine tingling, with something as simple as a wink across a crowded lecture theatre.

Her body’s unwilling response to him had to be nothing more than an unfortunate lapse, a humiliating triumph of lonely body over weakened will. That the defences she’d spent years constructing could be so easily overrun was as bewildering as it was annoying. Here she was, a twenty-six-year-old newly divorced single mum and he had her acting like some silly teenager, for crying out loud.

So what was she going to do about it? She flipped onto her back, blew her hair out of her eyes and hugged a pillow to her chest.

Put a stop to it, for starters. Pragmatism reasserted itself and she sat bolt upright. Satisfied with the return of some level of control she tossed her pillow to the floor. If she analysed the situation like the scientist she was, she had two choices: sit and brood about the weakness of character that had allowed the whole thing to happen, or accept it as a brief lapse and move on.

She opted for the latter.

The secret she’d kept from the world for the last seven years was sacrosanct, and the feelings she’d once had for the man who must never learn that secret had died long ago. No more emotional tangles for her.

Jamie’s presence here was unwelcome, yes, but she’d only be in Rainbow Cliffs a few days, and she’d come here for work. She was a professional and furthering her career was what this was about. Hopefully, now that Jamie was aware of how things stood between them, he’d treat her in the same businesslike manner she intended to treat him.

Dinner with the man responsible for the train wreck her life had become when he left would be difficult, but it was either that or starve, and hey, maybe he’d choke on his steak. She smiled grimly to herself; if only all her problems were so easily solved.

Chapter 2

Gem appeared at the earth-carved archway into the restaurant wearing a strappy summer dress that matched the blue of her eyes, and a guarded expression, her blonde hair once again pulled back into a tight knot at her neck.

Tonight had the potential to prove awkward, but not if Jamie had his way. During their earlier to-and-fro through the door he’d as good as said he didn’t give a damn about her. Venting had made him feel better, and he’d almost believed the words were true at the time.

But they weren’t.

He did give a damn, and the air between them had to be cleared. Gem had always needed time to adjust to new situations. Hopefully, after a nice meal and a couple of drinks she’d be more friendly and they could start afresh.

‘C’mon in.’ He gestured toward the candlelit table he’d set up in the corner of the cavern-like room.

She hesitated, glancing around, a small line of uncertainty between her eyebrows. ‘Why is there no one else here?’

‘No other guests. January’s our slowest month.’

She stared at him in stony silence.

‘So I’m the only person staying at the motel?’ she said at last.

‘Yep. Gets too hot for all but us die-hards this time of year,’ he said offhandedly.

Her clipped laugh was one of disbelief. ‘Okay, so what about restaurant staff? Where’s the waiter?’

With a shrug of his shoulders he indicated himself.

‘And the chef?’

‘You’re looking at him.’ He watched her turn this