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your father on my way out.’
    Relief poured through her. No more stress today. Decision-making could wait. She returned his smile as she rose from the bench. ‘I didn’t have you pegged as a garden man.’
    â€˜I shall take up smelling roses.’
    â€˜You need a garden for that. The hothouse ones don’t have much scent.’
    He raised one eyebrow in a lightly mocking challenge. ‘Perhaps we can give each other new experiences.’
    She shrugged, deliberately noncommittal. ‘Perhaps we can.’
    No more was said.
    He accompanied her back to the dining room and with every step she sensed him withdrawing from her, wrapping himself in self-containment. It was a weird, cold feeling—in sharp contrast to the wildheat of their physical connection. He was leaving her alone and that troubled her far more than it should.
    Eddie and her mother said all the polite responses to his polite appreciation of the day spent with them. Her mother took him in tow to the lounge room so he could say goodbye to her father and she was left behind in the dining room with Eddie, whose eyes were full of questions.
    â€˜So?’ he asked, as soon as their visitor was out of earshot.
    â€˜So, nothing,’ she answered. ‘I showed him the garden.’
    She couldn’t bring herself to open up a discussion on what had happened between her and Jake Freedman. Somehow it was too personal, too private.
    Besides, it would probably come to nothing.
    And it was probably better that way.
    Probably.

CHAPTER FOUR
    T HE end of the week, he’d said.
    It was the first thought Laura had when she woke up on Friday morning.
    If he was still thinking of her, she mentally added, half-hoping that he wasn’t so she wouldn’t be faced with the decision of whether or not to see him again.
    It had been impossible to get him out of her head. She couldn’t look at a guy without comparing him to Jake Freedman. None of them measured up to him. Not even close. Her uni studies had suffered with him slipping into her mind when she should have been concentrating. As for being a Director of First Impressions at her receptionist job, no impressions at all had got through to her. Directing the doctors’ patients had all been a matter of rote this week. It was like her whole life was revolving around waiting for his call.
    Which was really, really bad.
    What had happened to her strong sense of independence? It should be rising above this obsessive thinking about a man, putting him in a place ofrelative unimportance. She didn’t like not being in full control of her life. It was as though a virus had invaded her system and she couldn’t get rid of it. But as all viruses did, it would run its course and leave her, she told herself.
    Especially if Jake didn’t call.
    However, if he did…
    Laura heaved a fretful sigh and rolled out of bed, unable to make up her mind on what she should do. Would she always wonder about him if she didn’t try him out?
    It was an unanswerable question. Nevertheless, it plagued her all day, distracting her from the lectures at uni. By late afternoon she had decided it was best if Jake didn’t call so a choice wasn’t even available. She felt so woolly-headed, it was a relief to board the ferry from Circular Quay to Mosman and stand on the outside deck, needing a blast of sea breeze to whip away the fog in her mind.
    The ferry was halfway across the harbour when her mobile phone rang. Her heart instantly started hammering. It might not be him, she told herself, plucking the phone out of the side pocket of her bag. He would not have finished work yet. It wasn’t quite five o’clock. Her father rarely arrived home before seven.
    Gingerly she raised the phone to her ear and said, ‘Hello.’
    â€˜It’s Jake, Laura.’
    His voice conjured up his image so sharply, her breath stuck in her throat.
    â€˜Would you like to go out to dinner with me