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falling more softly now. She wondered what Seth wanted to ‘chat’ about. Avoiding that thought, she asked, ‘How long will this rain last?’
    ‘Hard to say.’ He shrugged. ‘In some wet seasons it rains non-stop for weeks.’
    ‘That sounds depressing.’
    ‘It can be. Most of us try to get away for at least part of the wet.’
    ‘I’ve read about roads being cut off by floods.’
    ‘That’s why I have a plane,’ Seth said in a dry, matter-of-fact tone.
    A plane? Before Amy could register her astonishment, he said, ‘So you’ve never been in the tropics before?’
    ‘No, never.’
    ‘You’re not seeing it at its best. You should have come in winter.’
    ‘But that would have been too late to help Rachel’s book launch.’
    ‘Ah, yes.’ Seth looked out to the black and silent night, with only his profile showing to Amy. ‘I was hoping we could talk about Rachel’s book.’
    Goosebumps broke out on Amy’s arms. At least Seth hadn’t guessed about Bella, but she wasn’t sure if she was relieved or alarmed. What else could she tell him about the book?
    If he realised that she’d come all this way, and imposed on his hospitality, on the pretext of promoting a book she knew next to nothing about, he would be justified in thinking she was crazy, and bad mannered.
    She studied the dark lines of his brow and his nose and the angular jut of his jaw, but they gave her no clue to his thoughts.
    He spoke without looking at her. ‘You said you were Rachel Tyler’s best friend.’
    ‘Yes, I did, because it’s true.’
    ‘You’ve known her since you were fifteen.’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘You’ve gossiped together.’
    ‘I wouldn’t call it gossip.’ Amy sounded more prudish than she’d meant to. ‘But sure, we talked a lot.’
    ‘And yet she never talked to you about her book?’
    ‘Not in any kind of detail.’ Amy watched a moth dance into the pool of light. ‘I—I think Rachel was superstitious. The book was terribly important to her, and I think she might have been afraid that it wouldn’t be a success if she talked too much about it.’
    ‘Did she tell you about her time at Serenity?’
    ‘Very little,’ Amy admitted with a sigh. Rachel had been totally absorbed by the aftermath of her trip north—her pregnancy and the birth of her baby.
    ‘But she told you about me,’ Seth said coldly. ‘You knew how to find me.’
    ‘Yes.’
    Feeling hopelessly cornered, Amy closed her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to tell Seth the whole story tonight. She’d wanted to wait till she’d been refreshed by a good night’s sleep. She’d wanted to feel calm and composed, able to take her time and to choose her words carefully.
    More importantly, she’d wanted to retain the upper hand in this, but Seth was pushing her, giving her no choice. She had to speak now. If he dragged the truth out of her, she would lose every ounce of credibility in his eyes.
    And that mattered perhaps more than it should.
    As she sat there, eyes closed, gathering courage, she heard the flutter of the moth’s wings against the light globe and the sound of Seth’s chair scraping on the wooden veranda boards. Her eyes flew open.
    Seth was standing directly in front of her, towering over her. ‘There’s something you’re not telling me, Amy.’
    His voice was hard and as cutting as a sabre. He was trying to intimidate her, which was one thing Amy wouldn’t tolerate. She’d learned in her own backyard to stand up to her brothers.
    Bravely, she glared up at him. ‘I don’t like your tone.’
    For a moment, he looked taken aback. ‘I’m being very civil.’
    He ran tense fingers through his hair, and time crawled as he stood there staring at her, while she stared back at him.
    Eventually, his expression relaxed, and the next time he spoke his voice held no menace. ‘Give me a break, Amy. I’m not used to playing these games. All I want is the truth. Why did you come here?’
    ‘Because I need to talk to you.’ Her eyes