‘Of course you can,’ she said, hurriedly. ‘I…I’ll think of something.’

‘Of course you will,’ he said, and had to bite back the urge to say, Stay here. Of course we can keep your dog. We can keep you, too, if you want.

Which was ridiculous. There was no earthly reason why he should look at this woman and feel his heart hammer in his chest. She was a patient, who’d come to him for help.

She didn’t belong here.

His body was telling him she did.

His body had better go take a hike.

Maybe he had more of his mother in him than he thought. His mother had believed in love at first sight and she’d messed with both of their lives because of it. Her romantic ideals had turned into loser after loser. She saw life through rose-coloured glasses, and her dreams turned to nightmares every time.

‘I have work to do,’ he said abruptly.

‘I won’t interfere.’

‘I know you won’t,’ he said. And added silently as he left, for his ears only, Because I won’t let you.

She’d upset him. He’d walked out of the room like he couldn’t leave fast enough. Like she was contagious.

Ridiculous. She must be mistaken.

She ate another scone and had a second cup of coffee and talked to the boys. The tumble-drier whirred to a halt in the next room, and Dom appeared again, with an armful of clean, dry clothes.

‘Do you want to phone your family?’ he asked, brusque and businesslike. ‘You lost your cellphone, didn’t you. You can use my land line.’

She glanced at her watch. Nine. If she was driving from Melbourne this morning she’d hardly arrive before eleven. They wouldn’t be worrying. She could have a couple more hours…

Of what? Sitting in this man’s kitchen eating more hot cross scones while he stayed out of her way?