it next to impossible to get back to sleep.
She watched Adam sitting outside, in these beautiful surroundings with the lyrebird trilling its song and nothing much else for company apart from the rushing sound of the wind against the leaves of the gum trees. He was a businessman, and sitting in a Magnolia Creek country house in a suit and tie, he looked as though he was out of a New York film set where he should’ve been running into the nearest Starbucks shouting for a ‘large latte to go’ and then dodging between big yellow taxis, his cup held aloft.
‘What time’s your meeting?’ She’d noticed him check his watch.
‘Not till this afternoon, but I fly late morning. I need to run through a presentation on my laptop while I’m at the airport.’ He slurped the remains of his coffee. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of days.’
Rosie hugged him. ‘Looking forward to it already.’
After Adam left for the airport, Rosie relished some alone time in the garden. Her shift at Magnolia House didn’t start until lunchtime, when she would be helping set up for a wedding this afternoon. She picked up the net beside the pool and swished its long pole through the pool water, finding therapy in the motion as she cleared the surface of leaves and a couple of dead cockroaches who’d met their fate.
The water was too tempting to ignore any longer, and after she’d fished out a twig she was afraid could block the filter and tipped the debris into the garden bin, she grabbed her bikini from where she’d left it in the laundry and ran upstairs to get changed. She checked the SunSmart app and slathered on a generous helping of sunscreen, impatiently waiting the requisite ten minutes for it to soak in before she could jump into the water.
Inside the pool’s modern square lines, she glided up and down, notching up thirty-two lengths in all. Satiated, she climbed out of the water and into the teardrop-shaped spa carved out at the far end in front of the gazebo. She pressed the square button to set the spa into motion and positioned herself on the longest seat with jets at the feet, behind the knees and two focused on her shoulder blades. As her breathing steadied into a more sedate rhythm, she rested her head back on the cream leather pillow, tilted her face to the sun and let the massaging waters, penetrating nozzles and millions of bubbles take her away.
Not long later, her eyes flew open when she heard an almighty splash behind her at the other end of the pool. She blinked as the foaming white waters of the spa splashed up at her, and she reached out for the sunglasses she’d left with her towel. When she turned she saw Owen rocketing up and down the length of the pool doing full tumble turns each time he reached the end. Length after length he swam, barely coming up for air, flashing the rose tattoo each time he lifted his arm out of the water and before his hand plunged in to do another stroke.
The buoyancy made her feet float up and flash crimson-painted toes as she moved to the seat facing the pool. Watching Owen, either something was bothering him or he’d chosen to take part in an Olympic swim and had forgotten to train. He finally stopped at the opposite end, and from behind her sunglasses she watched his shoulders move up and down with his breath until he recovered. Only then did he lift his head and see her watching him.
He swam at a more sedate pace towards her, and when he reached the side he rested his arms on the concrete beside the pool, his body still in the water.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked.
‘Not really.’ It wasn’t long before he added, ‘Your boyfriend can stay here for as long as you like.’
‘Thanks. I was going to email your mum and check though.’
‘No need, I spoke to her earlier today.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah, I made the mistake of telling her I was here.’
Before she had a chance to reply, he ploughed out another six lengths – Rosie counted – just as fast as
She watched Adam sitting outside, in these beautiful surroundings with the lyrebird trilling its song and nothing much else for company apart from the rushing sound of the wind against the leaves of the gum trees. He was a businessman, and sitting in a Magnolia Creek country house in a suit and tie, he looked as though he was out of a New York film set where he should’ve been running into the nearest Starbucks shouting for a ‘large latte to go’ and then dodging between big yellow taxis, his cup held aloft.
‘What time’s your meeting?’ She’d noticed him check his watch.
‘Not till this afternoon, but I fly late morning. I need to run through a presentation on my laptop while I’m at the airport.’ He slurped the remains of his coffee. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of days.’
Rosie hugged him. ‘Looking forward to it already.’
After Adam left for the airport, Rosie relished some alone time in the garden. Her shift at Magnolia House didn’t start until lunchtime, when she would be helping set up for a wedding this afternoon. She picked up the net beside the pool and swished its long pole through the pool water, finding therapy in the motion as she cleared the surface of leaves and a couple of dead cockroaches who’d met their fate.
The water was too tempting to ignore any longer, and after she’d fished out a twig she was afraid could block the filter and tipped the debris into the garden bin, she grabbed her bikini from where she’d left it in the laundry and ran upstairs to get changed. She checked the SunSmart app and slathered on a generous helping of sunscreen, impatiently waiting the requisite ten minutes for it to soak in before she could jump into the water.
Inside the pool’s modern square lines, she glided up and down, notching up thirty-two lengths in all. Satiated, she climbed out of the water and into the teardrop-shaped spa carved out at the far end in front of the gazebo. She pressed the square button to set the spa into motion and positioned herself on the longest seat with jets at the feet, behind the knees and two focused on her shoulder blades. As her breathing steadied into a more sedate rhythm, she rested her head back on the cream leather pillow, tilted her face to the sun and let the massaging waters, penetrating nozzles and millions of bubbles take her away.
Not long later, her eyes flew open when she heard an almighty splash behind her at the other end of the pool. She blinked as the foaming white waters of the spa splashed up at her, and she reached out for the sunglasses she’d left with her towel. When she turned she saw Owen rocketing up and down the length of the pool doing full tumble turns each time he reached the end. Length after length he swam, barely coming up for air, flashing the rose tattoo each time he lifted his arm out of the water and before his hand plunged in to do another stroke.
The buoyancy made her feet float up and flash crimson-painted toes as she moved to the seat facing the pool. Watching Owen, either something was bothering him or he’d chosen to take part in an Olympic swim and had forgotten to train. He finally stopped at the opposite end, and from behind her sunglasses she watched his shoulders move up and down with his breath until he recovered. Only then did he lift his head and see her watching him.
He swam at a more sedate pace towards her, and when he reached the side he rested his arms on the concrete beside the pool, his body still in the water.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ she asked.
‘Not really.’ It wasn’t long before he added, ‘Your boyfriend can stay here for as long as you like.’
‘Thanks. I was going to email your mum and check though.’
‘No need, I spoke to her earlier today.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah, I made the mistake of telling her I was here.’
Before she had a chance to reply, he ploughed out another six lengths – Rosie counted – just as fast as
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