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her brain told her that kicking him out might be construed as a wee bit of an overreaction. He and Felice needed to sort out whatever it was they had to sort out. Build bridges. Mend fences. Instinct told her that would be important to Felice. Which would make it important to Danny. Which made it important to her.
    Besides, kicking Simon out would mean admitting she’d placed too much importance on that kiss.
    And she didn’t. Not now. She’d read more into it than she should have, that was all.
    But as she stared across at Simon, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d got someone so wrong.
    ‘Are you really going to let them sleep out here all night on their own?’ Simon asked when Jesse and Nick dived into the tent with Game Boys, popcorn and torches.
    It was the longest sentence he’d uttered since their set-to in the kitchen.
    ‘They won’t last past nine-thirty out here. They’ll freak each other out with ghost stories and end up in their sleeping bags on the lounge room floor. Why? Do you have a problem with children camping out?’
    Stupid question. He had a problem with children full stop.
    He shrugged, shifting on his seat. ‘I just thought it might be dangerous, that’s all.’
    The sun had finally set and light from the house threw shadows across his face. It was hard to read his expression. ‘Dangerous how?’
    ‘I don’t know.’ He grimaced, clearly uncomfortable. ‘A tree could fall on the tent, they could get bitten by a spider, a stranger could take them.’
    ‘Any of those things could happen in broad daylight,’ she pointed out.
    He shoved his chair back and shot to his feet. ‘I’m going to bed.’
    He stalked into the house and Kate did not call a cheery goodnight after him. She didn’t trill, Don’t let the bedbugs bite. She didn’t tell him what time to set his alarm or what time they were having breakfast. No sirree. She kept her mouth well and truly shut. She’d opened her heart to him a little too quickly, a little too widely, earlier in the day. She had to find a way to close it again.
    And keeping her mouth shut seemed a good place to start.

CHAPTER FOUR
    S ATURDAY dawned as golden and blue as the previous day. When Simon opened his eyes, the sunlight spilling in through the open window and across his bed melted the mist that had held him in thrall last night. All in one blink of his eyes.
    He could not mess around with Kate Petherbridge.
    Not for a casual holiday fling and not for anything longer term.
    Jeez! He shot up and scrubbed both hands down his face before scratching them back through his hair. Definitely not for anything longer term.
    He tossed the covers back, sat on the edge of the bed and cradled his head in his hands. He didn’t mess with single mothers.
    Yesterday, down at the beach, the strange magic that had surrounded him for a while…he had to put that out of his mind. Put it down to relief at discovering Felice was okay, and the culture shock of finding himself on a warm beach in summer with a woman who didn’t care a jot about his title, about dignity, and who smiled as if she had sunshine in her soul.
    It had all gone to his head.
    A good night’s sleep had sorted him out, though. He’d be okay again now. But as he rose to walk to the shower he couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so aware of his body—how strongly the blood pumped through his veins, how deeply he could fill his lungs, how tall he could stretch. ThisNelson’s Bay of Kate’s seemed as magical and exotic as an Aladdin’s cave—a place that only existed in the imagination.
    Simon pushed the thought out of his mind. He didn’t believe in fairy tales. No matter how hard the sun shone, today’s reality was dull, grey and unyielding.
    He didn’t mess with single mothers.
    He reminded himself of that fact fifteen minutes later when he made his way to the kitchen. Then he promptly forgot it.
    Kate and Jesse sat at the table, haloed in all of their blonde glory by the