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That was the explanation for the crazy feelings that surged through her every time she looked at him, or when he spoke, and when he’d touched her. The warmth and the tightness in her chest were the same as when she gave herself over to the flow of music. Nothing to do with the muscular chest outlined by the tight T-shirt or the fine dusting of hair on his forearms as she lowered her glance. It was bad enough that his speaking voice sent goose bumps skittering down her back. It was so deep and melodious, she could just imagine what it sounded like when he sang.

“What sort of music does your band play?” Her voice croaked and she cleared her throat.

Focus. Change the subject. Anything to ignore his gaze.

“Ah…” He crossed his arms and turned away and relief coursed through Megan as he looked at the water gushing from the tap in the sink. As he spoke, she moved back to the sink to turn it off.

“We do covers of…er…Davy’s work. He’s still popular over here in the UK, you know.” He seemed a bit defensive about playing the old songs and Megan rushed in to reassure him, although she was disappointed to hear he only played his uncle’s covers and nothing original.

“Oh, he’s still big in Australia too. Even though it’s seventies music, you’ll hear at least one of his songs played on the radio every day.” She grasped the tap to turn it off, but nothing happened. Reaching over with her other hand, she grasped it firmly and twisted hard but the cold water continued to stream out. “In fact I was watching a show on the trip over and there he was, Davy Morgan on the small screen in an airplane.”

Megan froze as sudden warmth along her back alerted her to David’s proximity, and his hand covered hers on the tap as he leaned close. She glanced up sideways from beneath her lashes, but his attention was fixed on the tap. The pressure of his fingers pinched her thumb against the old porcelain tap.

“Ouch.”

He let go but didn’t step back. “Here, I’ll do it.”

Megan raised her hands but couldn’t move away as she was pinned between him and the sink. As he strained to shut off the tap, the tops of his arms pressed into her shoulders and she focused on looking through the window into the dark garden. The hard length of his body against her back and her legs, and the warmth it was generating against her bare shoulders, set her legs trembling.

The water shut off but he stayed where he was. His hand brushed softly against the side of her neck and she closed her eyes.

“You’ve got some rose petals caught in your hair.” His voice was low and throaty and close to her ear and she reached up to rub her hand through her hair before turning to face him.

Still, he didn’t move.

Megan swallowed and stared up into his deep blue eyes. Each of his dark eyelashes was clearly defined and he stared back at her steadily. Her heart slowed down and dropped to a steady beat and she waited for him to kiss her.

He leaned forward and his warm breath brushed her face like the touch of a butterfly wing. His hands gently held her shoulders and he lowered his head a touch closer.

“Are you going to feed me?”

Stepping back, she bit her lip as heat suffused her face. How stupid am I? Why would he kiss someone like me?

“Yes, of course.” Reaching back, she grabbed her hair and twisted it into a knot to give herself something to do besides look at David. He moved across to the table and pulled a chair out and straddled it backward.

“Have you got any wine?”

Megan glanced across at the cupboard and laughed to break the tension. “No, I didn’t carry any in my suitcase, and if you look in the cupboard, you’ll find two apples and a bottle of water. The sauce bubbling in that saucepan is the sum total of my shopping this afternoon.”

“Haven’t you discovered the cellar?”

“Cellar?” Megan hadn’t seen anything resembling a cellar. “What cellar?”

“The wine stash.”

She laughed again. “No, but I haven’t been here long enough to have a good look around. I was too busy trying to get the water going.”

“You don’t have to look far.” David pushed himself up off the chair and held out his hand. Megan looked at it for a moment before slipping her hand into his, and he pulled her across to the corner of the kitchen beside the old Welsh dresser. “Before she died, I used to help Alice out with a few chores and she always gave me a bottle of wine.” Megan tried to ignore the shocks running from her hand up her arm. Bloody star struck, that’s what she was.

“Ready?” He quirked an eyebrow and Megan tried not to stare. The resemblance to his uncle was really amazing. She wondered if his father had been Davy’s twin. David tugged at her hand and she jumped.

“Daydreaming?”

“No.” She shook her head slowly. “I just can’t get over how much you look like the Davy Morgan.”

He shrugged and gave her a tight smile. “Well, I’m the current David Morgan, anyway.”

“Sorry, that probably came out rudely. I meant—” He waved her protest away before she could finish and pointed to the wall.