Marriage at Murraree

by Margaret Way

Casey stepped out, waiting for the elevator door to close before rolling her eyes. Leah’s friendliness was prompted by relief. The very last thing Leah wanted was for Casey to stick around.

  She’d just emerged from the shower when someone knocked on the door. Didn’t anyone take any notice of the Do Not Disturb sign? She prayed it wasn’t Leah with a surprise invitation to join her and Daddy for dinner. Didn’t seem likely. Quickly she shouldered into the hotel’s towelling robe, belted it tight around her and opened the door a way ready to head butt anyone who looked at all suspicious.

  Instead Troy Connellan stood there, looking absolutely marvellous in his city clothes, a smile on his handsome rugged face. “Hi, there! Stay here often?”

  “First time.”

  He nodded, golden eyes gleaming. “I wasn’t even aware you were in Sydney until ten minutes ago. Can I come in?”

  “Say no more.” Casually she held back the door with nothing to indicate what his surprise appearance meant to her. Thrills had been rare in Casey’s life. Troy Connellan sent so many shock waves up and down her spine she almost dropped to her knees.

  “Leah told you?” She trailed him in, in the wake of his blazing vitality. He couldn’t be anything else but an outdoors man. He brought the fresh clean tang of the outdoors in.

  He reached for a chair, sat in it, looked out the window at the view of the park. “Definitely not Leah. She failed to mention it.” There was a dry edge to his voice. “I happened to run into that friend of hers, Paddy, who quickly filled me in. He’s a really entertaining guy. He said your test recording was great. Gardiner was very impressed.”

  “So it seems.” Casey nodded, wishing she was in her smart outfit instead of the towelling robe. “I’m practically signed up. I’ll get Adam Maynard to check everything out.”

  “Good idea. Lawyers take the time to read the fine print. Why didn’t you tell me you were off to Sydney?” he asked. “I flew Dad and Leah in. There was plenty of room for you.”

  She shrugged. “I didn’t want to bother you. Plus I don’t think your dad would have liked it. Isn’t Sandra Gordon a favourite of his?”

  “She must be.” He grinned. “He’s been nagging me to marry her for years.”

  “Look, let me throw some clothes on,” she said, those golden eyes on her exquisite torture.

  “Why don’t you do it right here?” he suggested, his eyes full of mockery and mischief.

  “Funny, Connellan.” She might as well have shed the robe, so conscious was she of her naked body beneath.

  Troy picked up on her thoughts as though she had spoken them aloud. “Actually what I came to ask is, will you have dinner with me? Hamburger and fries or something? Of course if you need to wear something you’ve just bought—” he glanced over at a stack of smart shopping bags bearing top labels “—we could try one of the top restaurants?”

  “It must be a top restaurant,” she said firmly, deciding she wanted to look beautiful for him.

  “Then I’ll see if I can get a booking at the best there is. Seven-thirty suit you? I’ll pick you up here.”

  She tried not to show her wild anticipation. “I’m looking forward to it.”

  “Me, too, McGuire.” He stood up, a superb hunk of a man in a caramel coloured suit, blue and white striped shirt, dark blue silk tie with a gold stripe. His hair she noticed had been recently cut but not even the hairdresser had wanted to take too much off that tawny bronze mane. It still kicked up off his nape. “I’d best be going. I have to report to my old man.”

  “How are things between you?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Nothing much changes.”

  “In sharp contrast to Leah? She told me your father was buying her a city apartment?”

  “So he is but Dad and I will get to use it from time to time.”

  “And she didn’t get to tell you I was in this hotel, either?”

  “Come on, Casey,” he lightly jeered. “You know Leah’s current deepest, darkest fear is I’ll fall madly in love with you.”

  She laughed out loud. “Well have you or not?”

  “Let’s start with the easy stuff,” he suggested. “Is there an attraction? You bet there is.” He headed towards the door with his silent big-cat tread, but at the last moment shot out an arm and pulled her to him. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you!” It was on Casey’s lips to say, I love you, but she swallowed the words. Loving went hand in hand with the potential for pain.

  “I hope so,” he said and dropped a brief kiss on her mouth that had her yearning for more. “You can tell me all about this afternoon over dinner. Right now I’d better check in with Dad.”

  “Want to tell him you’re having dinner with Jock McIvor’s big surprise daughter?”

  “Absolutely not. It’s none of his business.”

  Casey was just as certain his sister and his dad, who didn’t sound like a lot of fun, wouldn’t agree. Wouldn’t it be an awful, terrible thing for Troy Connellan, who it appeared was Outback aristocracy, to get tangled up with a girl very definitely from the wrong side of the tracks. Her half sisters, Darcy and Courtney were one thing. They were the McIvor heiresses. She was the daughter of a woman, an adulteress, who had overdosed on drugs.

  Casey had the sinking feeling she would never live down the social stigma of her past. It was a very comforting feeling to know she had money. They had all agreed on a settlement she privately thought mind blowing. Maybe respectability was beyond her. She was one of those who through no fault of their own had ugly dark places in her life.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  HE TOOK her to a beautiful restaurant with Harbour views, owned and run by a woman, a great restaurateur and author with an international reputation.

  The restaurant, predictably, was filled with a mix of formally dressed people and smart casual—a jacket for the men was obligatory—who all looked very happy to be there. The dining rooms were lovely: glass walls, glittering harbour lights, shimmering silver and crystal, candles, flowers, elegant without being opulent, luxuriant with magnificent potted plants, the lighting very flattering, the waiters all young and handsome, darkly Mediterranean. She and Troy must have looked an eye-catching pair because Casey intercepted both frankly open and fairly discreet stares.

  Being Sydney, they chose seafood, arguably the best in the world, for starters. Seared freshly shucked scallops with white truffle butter, served with fettucini as a garnish. Casey hesitated over succulent lobster, but finally settled on a lovely rich peppered duck breast with poached balsamic figs and crisps. Troy ordered char sui pork with a selection of Asian vegetables, all beautifully presented.

  It was all so delightful Casey wondered when reality was going to hit.

  They talked about many things, light, relaxing things to compliment the delicious meal. Casey relayed all the events of her afternoon, painting little cameos of the musicians who had backed her. Impromptu, effortless. Her soaring exhilaration at their skill, lifting her own performance to the heavens. He laughed at her stories. She laughed at his. Troy was, without doubt, entertaining company. And fate had thrown them together.

  His burnished eyes caressed her while his generous mouth smiled. He’d told her in a number of different ways how beautiful she looked. Which ever way he put it, it sounded just right. Never a false note. He was absolutely brilliant at making her feel special. That perhaps more than his incredible sexiness was what she liked most about him. He made her feel she and her opinions were important to him. She’d had precious little of that, although she’d experienced plenty of lust, she’d taken bitter pleasure in scorning. She had an idea of herself that involved integrity.

  Both of them bypassed dessert though glancing around at the other tables what the other diners were savouring looked luscious. Instead they shared a cheese platter and short black coffees.

  Troy signalled for the bill. “What about a stroll around the waterfront?” he suggested. “We can take a cab or walk back to the hotel.”
<
br />   “A walk would be fine.” She never wanted this enchanted evening to end.

  They were on their way out hand in hand as a small party of late diners came in.

  Chance, Casey reflected, fixing a smile on her face. Bloody rotten chance. She couldn’t lose it. It just followed her around. Everything had been going so marvellously she’d felt she was walking on air.

  Now this! But fronting up to bad situations was what she did best. At least the tiny, delicate-looking much older woman looked a real lady.

  “My, my, so this is the friend you were talking about?” Paddy twinkled, his eyes moving over Casey with great pleasure. He’d heard enough from Leah to know Casey’s background was the sticks. “Dirt poor! Very rough childhood, you know.” Breeding counted. Casey looked a million dollars in a canary yellow silk and chiffon number decorated with swirls of gold sequins. The dress was cut like a slip with a marvellous chunk of costume jewellery around her neck and wrist only a tall, stunning woman could carry off. Beside her Leah wouldn’t get a look in.

  Never stand next to a goddess, Paddy thought, suddenly confronting the fact it was high time he and Leah broke up.

  Troy, for his part, though he felt a stab of dismay mixed with extreme irritation—he figured Leah had something to do with this—made the introductions smoothly. His father had an old family friend on his arm, Madelyn Curtis, widow of the late Sir Geoffrey Curtis, the career diplomat.

  Lady Curtis looked genuinely delighted, her still beautiful dark eyes sparkling up at Troy as if to say, “You naughty boy! Why have you hidden this glorious creature?”

  Clifford Connellan on the other hand stopped short when he saw them. The expression on his face was a good indication he didn’t approve of surprises sprung on him. He studied Casey as though she were the classic example of young woman he least wanted his son to get mixed up with.

  “How do you do?” Very correct and formal. Tall, silver hair, patrician features, glinting gaze he had passed on to his daughter. “I hope they’re right about this place, Troy,” he said as though he couldn’t imagine it could come up to his expectations. “We’ve had to wait to get in.”

  Shock, horror, the pain of it, to have to wait! Casey felt something inside her recoil from the old money elitist arrogance.

  “The food’s wonderful, Dad,” Troy said, patiently, wondering why his father had to act the way he did. Over the years he’d turned into a regular pain in the ass.

  “Had we known you intended dining here you and your friend—” another glinting glance at Casey “—could have joined us.” Clifford Connellan’s brows arched as if to say, “Why wasn’t I informed?”

  Lady Curtis hooted gently. “And spoil the fun? Come on, Cliff, these two young people want to be together. A pleasure to meet you, Casey,” she said as the maître d who had been hovering came towards them. “Lovely to see you again, Troy. You’re my very favourite godchild.”

  She lifted a tiny hand to pat Troy’s cheek and he bent to kiss her. “I’ll catch up with you, Mabs, before I go back.”

  “I’d like that, dear.”

  “Bye,” Paddy called, playing the flute with his fingers.

  Apparently they didn’t deserve a friendly farewell from Clifford Connellan or his only daughter who merely nodded. Casey had caught Leah gaping at her dress, then her stilettos. For God’s sake, isn’t she tall enough? was written all over Leah’s expression.

  “I must apologise for my family,” Troy said, when they were out in the street. He took her arm, tucking it through his.

  “Obviously they were delighted to meet me,” Casey said sarcastically.

  “Don’t worry about it.” Troy felt very angry as well as embarrassed. “You’re so different to what they’re used to.”

  “Different to Sandra, you mean?” She pulled away from him slightly.

  He drew her back. “I’ve told you, Casey, Sandra is just a friend. I’ve known her all my life. I was never in love with her. I never will be. End of story.”

  “Tell your dad that. Turns out he’s a nice guy.”

  “Let’s leave Dad out of it,” Troy groaned. “I won’t let them spoil our night.”

  “Hell, I thought they did a good job.”

  “Casey…pleeze!”

  “Do you think your sister had anything to do with their choice of venue?”

  Another groan. “Leah’s long been in training as a spy. Mostly for my dad. But no way do they run my life. No way would I allow them to influence my choice of bride. Let alone make that choice. Why do you think I’m constantly at logger-heads with my father? His idea of the perfect son is someone who does exactly what he’s told. That’s never me. I’d give up my heritage before I’d commit to that.”

  Casey was outraged on his account. “I can’t believe you’d be forced into such a thing?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “Dad pushes me to the limit. I take off. He backs off. The truth of it is he needs me. Vulcan needs me. I know what I’m doing. The men work well under me. They give me one hundred per cent. Stuff like that. It’s important out here to have trust and loyalty. To treat all the people working for us fairly.”

  “You’d do that,” she said, nodding her firm approval. “At least that’s the way I see you. A straight shooter.”

  “Who finally might have to make another life for himself.”

  “Could you? Would you?” She glanced at his strong rugged profile.

  “Both.” His fingers tightened on her. “I have money my mother left me. Not a fortune but enough to get me started. That’s the only thing that keeps Dad in line. The money my mother left me. Hard work would eventually get me what I want.”

  “But what you really want is your family heritage?”

  He sighed. “Nothing is certain in life, Casey. You know that. From what you’ve been telling me you have a career ahead of you. A big career by the sounds of it. You have everything going for you.”

  “Everything?” She gave a little smile. “I don’t only want a career, Troy. I want family. My family. My children. Lots of them. I swear I’ll know how to treat them.”

  “Well that’s wonderful!” He gave her a white grin. “But, hey, don’t you want a husband somewhere in there?”

  “I don’t know,” she said soberly. Rule One. Men weren’t to be trusted.

  “That’s a bit silly. Are you saying you’re considering going along to a sperm bank?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Connellan,” she snapped.

  “Come on now. Be happy,” he cajoled her in a deep sexy voice. “Personally I don’t see why you can’t have both. A career and a husband. Call me old-fashioned—”

  “You are!” she jibed.

  “No, Casey, I’m not and you know it. I wouldn’t object to a trial marriage.”

  She felt her heart bound in her breast. “What are you talking about?” She knew she sounded flustered but it couldn’t be helped.

  “We’re speaking hypothetically, aren’t we?” he asked in a smooth voice.

  “Sure.” Her heart quietened. She never knew where this guy was leading her.

  “I don’t know much about the music business,” Troy said earnestly, “but it seems to me a married woman could find time to have kids, cut CD’s and make videos? You could write your beautiful songs anywhere. Pour out your sad heart. You could even fit in a few judicious personal appearances.”

  “Got it all figured out, have you?”

  He leaned sideways and kissed her temple. “I care about you, McGuire,” he said. “I really do.”

  In the elevator they stood alone, staring at each other. “I want you,” he said, gleaming eyes mesmeric. “I want you very much.”

  “How would you feel if your dad and Leah knocked on the door?”

  “Obviously we’d put a Do Not Disturb notice on the door.”

  “You didn’t take any notice of it,” she reminded him. “Just the thought of your father demanding to be let in, is death to romance.”

  “Is that
so?” His golden eyes moved briefly, very powerfully over her.

  They couldn’t even wait until the door was closed behind them before they started into kissing. She was eager, hungry for him, sexually aroused all evening. She had never experienced such urgency for a man. It was like a raging torrent sweeping her headlong downstream. Arms and legs locked, they explored each other’s mouth, fiercely, gently, voluptuously, tenderly, then starting the cycle all over again, overlapping one into the other.

  “You’re beautiful, so beautiful!” he muttered. “I can’t get enough of you, McGuire,” he groaned in frustration. “Can we get this dress off before I tear it?”

  “I’ll help.” She was gasping for breath, as delirious as he was to explore their sexuality. If they only had this one night she thought she might be able to live on it for the rest of her life.

  Swiftly she found the zipper, pulled it so her dress parted and slithered down to the carpet. The dress that had cost a fortune. She stepped out of it and he caught it up, placing it carefully over a chair. Rare for a man to be so gentle, so considerate.

  “Oh my God!” He turned back, his breath almost stopped in his throat. She had left both bedside lamps on when she went out, now he saw her standing before him in her champagne coloured bra and bikini briefs, her flawless white skin, in striking contrast to the fire of her hair. It tumbled around her shoulders, framing her face. Her white breasts were perfect. How his hands ached to cup them; to tease the deep pink nipples with his teeth. Her eyes, staring back at him, were the most brilliant blue he had ever seen. She was a glorious woman. She bewitched him. He wanted her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life.

  Casey registered the tautening of his strongly hewn features, the hunger that prowled in his eyes. Because of the circumstances of her life she had never really trusted any man. But she trusted Connellan. Was that the way it was? You trusted a man even when you shouldn’t?

  She took a step towards him still wearing her gold stilettos. “Take off your jacket,” she ordered breathlessly, unable to resist him. “I can last long enough to help you. The shirt, the tie—I love that tie—and the pants.” Her hands were already on him, eager, super efficient even under the pressure of arousal. Pleasure kept rising. And rising. A wonderful masculine scent was coming off his body, enhancing the ecstasy. It made her senses spin.