The Rancher's Adopted Family by Barbara Hannay

if the chemistry was right, why couldn’t they be blissfully happy?
    It wasn’t a question she could ask when Seth’s mother and Rachel and possibly the girl who’d broken his heart had not been prepared to stay.
    Amy shivered at the thought of Seth’s loneliness, which he seemed to accept as his fate. She longed to reach out and touch him tenderly, to cup her hand against the rugged line of his jaw, to brush his lips with the pad of her thumb, to show him that she cared.
    She longed to rekindle the passion of their kiss, and now, with no Ming to interrupt them, who knew where it might lead? Amy didn’t care. She wanted it, wanted him.
    But that’s crazy .
    Oh, God. For an insane minute there, she’d almost forgotten Rachel, Bella, her job, her family…She’d almost been ready to throw every responsibility to the four winds…in exchange for a night with Seth.
    Shaking, shocked by her foolishness, she reached across the table for his empty bowl. She spoke carefully. ‘Thank you for the delicious meal. I’ll take these things through to the kitchen.’
    Instantly he was on his feet. ‘No, you don’t have to worry about the kitchen. You’re a guest.’
    Avoiding the fire in his gaze, she said, ‘But I haven’t performed a single helpful task since I arrived. Let me rinse these couple of bowls to keep my hand in.’
    He gave her a puzzled smile. ‘If you insist.’
    ‘I insist,’ she said quietly but emphatically. ‘Goodnight, Seth.’ She walked away swiftly, carrying the dishes, unable to return his smile.
     
    A noise woke Amy, a sudden flapping of wings outside her room and the haunting call of a bird, which she thought must have been an owl. She rolled over and looked through the moon-streaked darkness to Bella’s bed, hoping the sound hadn’t woken her.
    Fortunately, the little girl remained very still, undisturbed. Amy rolled onto her back again and closed her eyes. She crossed her fingers, hoping she would drift back to sleep.
    She was tired. Really tired. She hadn’t slept well since she’d left Melbourne and right now she wanted to stay drowsy and dopey. She needed to sleep, and not to think.
    But already she could feel her brain whirring to fretful life, spinning thoughts…throwing up questions…
    About…Seth.
    And that kiss…
    It was so easy now, in the middle of the night, to let her mind zoom in on the details of that kiss, to live it again in close focus.
    She could feel again the intimate brush of his lips against hers, the imprint of his hand at the small of her back, the nerve-tingly pleasure and the rush of delicious heat that had flooded her, the astonishing need, the glorious, overwhelming longing…
    Good grief. She was going mad, wasn’t she? She had to be a little crazy to get into such a fever about one kiss.
    From the start, she’d sensed she should be wary of Seth Reardon. He was incredibly sexy, despite or perhaps because of his remote, brooding air, but she’d picked up all kinds of signals that he was dangerous, too.
    Rachel had been so cagey about him. Even the woman at the Tamundra pub had hinted that he was trouble. And on reflection Amy had to admit she’d had difficulty thinking straight from the moment she’d met him.
    Thank heavens she hadn’t thrown herself at him tonight.
    The man was a disturbing mystery.
    He’d claimed that his heart had been broken, but it hadn’t happened over Rachel.
    And yet…he’d made love to Rachel and she’d thought he was The One …and he’d fathered Bella, and now Rachel was dead…but Seth wasn’t particularly upset about it.
    None of it made sense. Had the man no feelings?
    Was there a cold unemotional side to him that Amy hadn’t seen yet? Had Rachel known that, and sensibly kept her distance?
    With a groan Amy rolled over to face the wall and thumped at her pillow. The Seth she’d seen over the past two days had given her the impression that he was warm and vulnerable—and wounded—but that didn’t sit with the