Page 23 of The Wanderer

"Why did you come here with me today?"

He didn't flinch at her blurted question, which bordered on rude. "Already told you. This library has the most famous dome in Melbourne and I want to get a few ideas to see if we can soundproof yours while restoring it to its former glory."

Why did he have to sound so damn logical? His reasoning sounded plausible but deep down she would've preferred him to say he'd wanted to spend time with her.

Crazy having those kinds of delusions, because they weren't dating and she had no expectations. But when he'd heard she was coming here and he'd asked to accompany her, she couldn't help but hope he liked her for more than her body.

"The dome is spectacular," she said, relieved she managed to sound offhand despite her whirling thoughts. "Have you been here before?"

His lips compressed and a shadow scudded across his hooded gaze. "Once. A lifetime ago."

"School excursion?"

"Something like that," he said, half turning away so she couldn't read his expression. But she heard the tightness in his voice, like she'd hit a sore spot.

She should drop it. That would be the smart thing to do. But she'd stopped being smart around the time she demanded he screw her up against an alley wall at the back of a pub.

"You mentioned growing up in a small outback town far from Melbourne. Did you go to school there too?”

He took so long to respond she wondered if she'd screwed up. After what seemed like an eternity, he said, “Rally-Doo is too small so I went to school in nearby Swan Hill. A small, unknown public school. You wouldn't have heard of it. Hills High."

She hadn't. "I'm ashamed to say that though I've lived in Melbourne for five years, my Australian geography is lacking."

"You haven't done the touristy thing and travelled around?"

She grimaced and shook her head. "I've been to Sydney and the Gold Coast, both times for an indie music concert, that's it."

He’d lost the haunted look and the corners of his mouth quirked into a teasing smile. "And you call yourself an honorary Aussie."

Glad he'd lightened up enough to tease her, she tapped her chest. "I love living here but I'm still an English girl at heart."

"Let me guess. You prefer toasted muffins over donuts, you drink tea over coffee, use a fine porcelain cup, and do it like this." He held up his pinky and wiggled it.

She laughed. "I'm far from clichéd."

"Don't I know it," he murmured, so softly she barely caught it, the sudden heat in his gaze making her aware of her quickening heartbeat. "Seriously though, you need to sight-see. Travel. See more of this wonderful country."

The fluttering in her chest elicited by the intent behind his alluding to her being anything but clichéd, combined with his sizzling look, had her inadvertently leaning into him, craving his touch.

But they were in a public place and there was a huge difference between a back alley and one of Melbourne’s prestigious landmarks.

"I will travel, once I get my recording studio up and running."

A blatant lie, because she knew once she started recording she intended to be busy into the next decade, fostering talent of unknown musicians while producing her own music and sharing it with the world. It’s what she’d always wanted to do. It had been her secret dream and she’d only ever shared it with one other person: who’d proceeded to take her prized songs and record them as his own.

The kicker had been she would’ve gladly shared her songs with Harry if he’d asked. Instead, the one person she thought she could trust in the world had callously shattered her illusions, like everyone else before him.

Logan eyed her with scepticism, like he knew her hope for future travel was a load of bollocks, before snapping his fingers in an apparent epiphany. "We should go camping."

"I'd rather stick a fork in my eye."

Her loathing of sleeping under the stars in a tent had nothing to do with her privileged upbringing when she only vacationed in the best five star resorts, and everything to do with her fear of Aussie snakes and spiders. She'd watched enough documentaries to know that she preferred solid walls between her and the creepy crawlies, not thin canvas.

She shuddered at the thought and he chuckled. "Have you ever done it?"

"No, and I'm not about to start now."

An eyebrow rose in blatant challenge. "Bet I can change your mind."

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