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  Falling in Love Again

  Marilyn Forsyth

  www.escapepublishing.com.au

  Falling in Love Again

  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, eight 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.

  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.

  About the author

  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. Marilyn lives with her husband, surrounded by bush, in the foothills of a coastal village south of Sydney. She is also part owner of a castle in Scotland. (Okay, it’s only a one-square-foot plot in the castle grounds but, hey, it entitles her to be called ‘Lady Marilyn of Chaol Ghleann’.)

  Acknowledgements

  Without the support of my husband, Leigh, and my crit partners, Cassandra Samuels and Enisa Haines, this book would never have seen the light of day. Thank you, thank you, thank you for your unwavering belief in me.

  Thanks are due, too, to the ladies of Breathless in the Bush, our fabulous writing group, as well as to Kate Cuthbert and Kate James from Escape Publishing, two lovely ladies whose help and suggestions have been very much appreciated.

  I would also like to thank, in no particular order: Ross Pogson from the Australian Museum, who answered my many questions about opalised plesiosaurs and how museums function; and Nick Le Soueff of Lightning Ridge Opal Mines in Melbourne who put me in touch with Andrew Cody, opal dealer, who then supplied me with invaluable information about how opal dealers operate. If I misinterpreted any of this information in my book, the fault is purely my own.

  For Leigh, love of my life

  Contents

  About the Author

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Epilogue

  Bestselling Titles by Escape Publishing…

  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 degr
ees 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?’