Chapter Fifty-Nine
Finn
No matter how many times he’d thought about kissing her, the reality was better than anything he’d imagined. Those lips of hers were amazing. She’d then suggested they go somewhere else for a drink, so they arrived at Marigold’s hotel. A typical, five-star expensive place with large vases of flowers and chandeliers everywhere. Much like her home, really.
He spotted a lobby bar with a pianist playing in the corner and black-and-white-clad waiters moving around with trays of cocktails and glasses of wine. This was definitely more of a Marigold place than the pub where they’d been earlier. They’d probably have an actual wine list – not a choice of ‘red’ or ‘white’. He veered towards the bar. Perhaps he’d order something a bit fancier than the beer he’d just had, but heard her call his name.
He turned and she was tilting her head towards the lifts, a swipe card in her hand.
Ok. She didn’t want a drink. Or at least not in the fancy bar.
He followed her through as she pushed a button in the lift and they ascended to the top floor.
She snuck him a glance and a small smile, which he returned. How could he not smile back? She really was so incredibly beautiful, and here she was taking him to her hotel room? It was like a million fantasies coming to life.
“What would you like to drink? Finest minibar options available.” She waved towards a cabinet as they entered the room.
He didn’t mind what they drank, though he wouldn’t have much. He needed to keep a clear head here. But more than needed to, he wanted to. He wanted to enjoy every moment with her.
“Whatever you’d like.” He removed his jacket and placed it on a nearby chair.
She moved towards him and put her arms around his shoulders. “I don’t think I need a drink after all,” she said, kissing him. She pulled him towards the bed, and pushed him down. Her mouth felt so good on his as he felt his shoulders relax and her body curl further into his as she climbed onto his lap.
He pushed her hair back to look at her beautiful face more clearly. She really was gorgeous, and the fact all this was happening was like a dream. He thought simply kissing her was fantastic, but she was quickly escalating this far beyond a kiss. Was she ready for this? He didn’t want to be an entry on the regrets list of her life.
“This isn’t too soon for you?” He stroked a strand of her hair behind her ear.
“No. I need this,” she said, her eyes locking onto his. “I need you.” He felt her hands on his shirt buttons and she undid them, running a hand along his stomach muscles.
His mind went somewhat blank thanks to the movement of her fingernails across his abdomen.
“Please tell me that you need this too,” she whispered as she kissed along his jawline, to his ear.
“I do.”
“I want you, Finn. Please tell me you want me, too.”
“I’ve wanted you ever since that night of the Gala. Probably much, much longer than that, probably the first time I saw you. But that night, all I could think was how much I wanted to take that green dress off you.”
She let out a little murmur. A little gasp of delight that was pure pleasure to him.
“When I saw you get out of our swimming pool,” she pushed him down, climbing over him, straddling him, “I kept thinking how I wanted to wrap my legs around you.”
Her tongue flicked at his as similar thoughts about her legs overran his mind. This was unbelievable.
She started to pull at his belt buckle
“I hoped maybe I could kiss you tonight.”
She undid the top button of his trousers. “You did, but that’s not enough for me.”
“No?”
“Not at all.” She kissed him again, as he unbuttoned the silk shirt she was wearing, feeling it slip to the floor. He kissed along her neck, skimming the edge of her lace bra. She was beautiful – far more than he’d even fantasised about.
He moved himself so he was on top of her as they kissed, more frantically, before she pulled back. She placed her hands either side of his face and their eyes met.
He’d never quite appreciated how warm her eyes were – dark like coffee, but comforting and cosy like melted chocolate. Had they always been like that, or was this warmth something he only saw now that he knew her better?
Or more precisely, now that, right there and then, he knew he was in love with her?
Chapter Sixty
Finn
He wasn’t sure if he slept. Maybe he dozed off at some point, but he lay there, enjoying her curled into his body, her breath on his neck. It was reminiscent of the night he’d stayed with her, but this time it was far better. She was completely there with him. She wanted him.
He ran a hand over her dark hair. It was so soft to touch, like silk.
She started to move as the room gradually became lighter thanks to the sun edging at the corner of the blinds.
“Good morning,” he said.
She blinked a couple of times. “Good morning.”
He put both arms around her and kissed her. “How did you sleep?” he asked.
“Well,” she smiled. “You?”
“Good. What are you up to today?”
“I’m going to drive on to Bowral to stay with Frederick and Amelia for a little while. Spend some time with my nieces and nephew. Then, I’m starting back at work.”
His heart sank. He’d hoped to be able to spend the day with her. Maybe go to the National Gallery of Art, have her explain a few of the pieces to him he’d never understood. Perhaps lunch in a café he used to sometimes go to before work.
And another night together. She’d been unbelievable in bed. Sexy, hungry and greedy as she’d kissed him, bitten at his lips, dug her fingernails into his back… Hang on? Work. “At work? Are you ready to go back?”
She nodded. “I’ll be ready after I get back from Bowral. Dad and I worked it all out. We’re realigning things for me to take over, but in a smarter way – for both of us. I’m going to take his job, and we’re going to split my old role into two. He’ll be Operations Manager out of Bendigo, and I’ll hire someone to help me in Melbourne.”
“That’s good.” He hadn’t been lying the night before about being in awe of her. He wouldn’t know where to start in running a business like D-Line.
“It means that instead of Dad leaving the business, I’ll still have him around and I’ll have someone else to help me with operations. My role was too big, really. I had too much on my plate but was too afraid to ask for help. I’ll be able to focus on strategy and what D-Line will look like in five years, ten years, fifteen years and beyond.”
“Too afraid to ask for help?” he gave her a teasing smile. “That sounds like you.”
“Not now. I also told him all about Julian.”
“You did?”
“It was good to get it off my chest.”
“I have a confession to make.” He had to tell her about a recent conversation he’d had with Peter. “I told your father I’d been helping you with something, but I didn’t elaborate. I couldn’t bill him for watching you, when I was helping you at the same time. That wasn’t right. I couldn’t do that.”
“He was pleased you’d been there for me. He thinks you’re a good man.”
Finn nodded. At that point, though, he was more concerned whether Marigold thought he was a good man.
After breakfast in the room, Marigold packed her bag and the valet brought her car around and handed her the keys. Finn placed her overnight bag in the boot for her.
“Drive safely to Bowral,” he said.
“I will.” She leaned up and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for last night. Maybe when I get back to Melbourne and back to work, we can have a coffee.”
A coffee? He hoped his disappointment didn’t show.
“I’d like that.” He was hoping for a bit more than a coffee sometime in the future, but he quickly chastised himself. She’d not long lost her husband – and despite
Julian’s shortcomings, she’d probably take time to consider dating again. Last night could have been a one-time thing – a form of stress release, a way to reconnect, a statement about what Julian did to her. Or maybe just pure lust.
“I’ll call you.” And with a wave and a smile, she climbed into her little black BMW and drove off.
He stood and watched until the car disappeared from sight, realising that he was already missing her.
Chapter Sixty-One
Marigold
“Frederick!” Amelia complained as Marigold helped her make dinner. “I’m running out of bench space here. What’s this red thing?” She pointed to a shiny appliance sitting next to the stove in Amelia’s impeccable country kitchen.
“It’s a pancake maker.” Frederick appeared at the kitchen bench with Erin in his arms. She was now nearly four months old and was the spitting image of Frederick, right down to the early signs of an impish smile.
“But I can make pancakes in a frying pan. Since when do we like pancakes so much that we need a whole machine to prepare them?” Amelia gave an exasperated sigh.
“For the kids,” he protested. “They love them.”
Amelia threw her arms up in the air and looked at Marigold. “He’s addicted to that stupid channel! He’s always buying something ridiculous that we don’t need.”
Frederick scoffed. “You loved the necklace I bought for you.”
Amelia shot a look at Marigold. “It turned my neck green,” she whispered. “It made me itch. I needed to take an antihistamine.”
“I told him it looked cheap,” Marigold agreed. “I told him not to buy you jewellery from the home shopping network.”
“Hey!” Frederick interjected. He pointed a finger at Marigold. “It’s your fault I’m like this! You were the one who started this with buying those knives!”
Marigold threw a tea towel at him. “You got me addicted.” She turned to her sister-in-law. “He insisted I buy that stupid pillow. It’s the most uncomfortable I’ve ever owned.”
“Whoa! I didn’t exactly have to insist.”
Amelia put her hands up as if to stop the bickering. “Look, I don’t care! No more infomercials. Either of you!” She wagged her finger between them.
Marigold looked over to her brother and started giggling, and as they did, little Erin made a little laughing gurgling sound as if to join in the hilarity.
Frederick held up Erin towards Amelia, her little limbs moving around as she smiled at her mother. Amelia’s shoulders relaxed.
“See? How can you be mad at me when I’m holding our baby?” he asked.
“That’s unfair.” Amelia smiled and kissed Erin’s chubby hand before moving back to her dinner preparations. “But either way, no more things, ok?”
“She’s so cute,” Marigold said to Frederick. “I’ll have to visit you more often to enjoy her. I’m not sure I’ll get to have one of these.”
“There’s still time,” Frederick said, pushing Erin’s plump face towards Marigold’s. “Plenty of time for a little mini-Marigold to play with little Erin.”
“Not much.” She stared at Erin’s pink cheeks, and felt tears springing at the back of her eyes. Unlike the last time she was here, when she’d been desperate to conceal the truth, she suddenly wanted to tell Frederick and Amelia everything.
“When you’re ready,” Frederick offered.
“I’m not really sure when I’ll be ready. Things haven’t been easy these last couple of months.”
“We know. Sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you. I was just teasing,” he said.
Marigold shook her head, tears stinging at the back of her eyes. “It’s not that. It’s that, you see, things weren’t quite as they seemed with Julian. He was keeping a lot of secrets from me.”
“Like what?” Frederick’s tone was cautious. He pulled Erin back towards himself, as if sensing something unpleasant was about to occur and he needed to shield his child from whatever it was.
Marigold exhaled. “He took out a lease on an apartment, he was being blackmailed by a client, and he slept with someone else.”
“What?” her brother roared.
She was momentarily startled at his tone – he was usually so laid-back – but then again, the news was shocking. She’d be furious if she’d found someone had done this to him, or to Rose. She nodded and stared ahead at Erin. “It’s true. It’s taken me a few months to unravel it all, but he wasn’t happy. He was so far from happy that I can’t understand how I failed to notice it.”
“Oh, Marigold.” Amelia looked on the verge of tears as she put her arms around Marigold, squeezing her tight.
“That miserable bastard,” Frederick’s teeth were clenched when Marigold had finished explaining the entire situation. “I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but what was he playing at?”
Marigold shook her head. “I think it was my fault in part.” She took Erin from her brother, cuddling her into her, taking in her warmth.
“No! If he had issues, he should have said something,” Frederick said.
“Maybe he did, I don’t know. I wasn’t paying attention. I was too focused on myself.”
“You’re being too harsh on yourself,” Amelia said. “No marriage is perfect. But even so, what he did wasn’t the answer.”
“We both made mistakes.”
Frederick gritted his teeth. “You’re being too generous. I can’t believe he did this to you.”
Marigold watched as Frederick and Amelia shook their heads in disbelief, offered sympathy and a few choice words about Julian – largely from Frederick, who was more colourful in his language than Amelia.
When she’d been here earlier in the year she’d not wanted to tell them in fear of embarrassment. But now, there was something calming and therapeutic about getting it off her chest. She no longer had to pretend that Julian had been the perfect husband. Or that she’d been the perfect wife.
***
Later that night, while Frederick put Erin to bed, Marigold sat out on the veranda with Amelia. It was cool, and she had her jacket pulled around her, the fake fur collar nestled against her skin. The house was quieter as Charlie and Sienna were with their dad, Toby, for a couple of days. But she found herself looking forward to seeing them when they returned on Sunday evening.
“Are you ok?” Amelia asked. “This situation can’t have been easy.”
“I’m ok.” Marigold looked at her sister-in-law and smiled. “I will be, anyway. Can I ever trust anyone again? How could you trust someone after what Toby did to you?”
“Someone worth trusting, yes. Someone who makes you feel like they’re your everything. That’s what Frederick did.”
Marigold nodded. “You are his everything.”
“Once, I thought your family was extremely odd.” Amelia smiled. “I was scared of your mother. I still am, I guess. I thought your father was a power-hungry monster, with the way he tried to interfere in Frederick’s life. I was completely intimidated by you, and by Rose.”
“Intimidated by me?” Marigold asked. Not this again. How frightening was she? “Am I that scary?”
“You were so together and confident. I thought you knew everything.”
“And now you see that I’m really a wreck.”
Amelia shook her head, carefully. “No, I see that you are someone who doesn’t want people to worry about her.”
That was true. She didn’t want people to doubt her capabilities or treat her like a child. She looked over to Amelia. “But I’ve had to be like that.”
“I don’t believe that. You don’t have to be anything other than yourself.”
“And I’m not sure what that is at the moment.” She hadn’t had things as nicely lined up and perfectly executed as she thought.
“You’re smart and honest and loyal and loving. When the time is right, make sure that someone falls for the real Marigold, because that’s what you deserve.”
She found her mind wandering to Finn. As it had since
she’d left Canberra earlier that morning. She’d thought about little else on the two-hour drive to Bowral.
Waking up with her body curled into his, feeling the warmth of his skin next to hers, had been one of the most comforting, safest places she’d ever been. And before that? The physical intensity between them? It had been incredible. She felt a flutter of excitement in her belly as she thought about making love with him. It had been raw, and pure, and unbelievably pleasurable.
She’d been touched by the fact he’d been concerned it was too soon. It wasn’t too soon for what they’d done. But a relationship? That was something else.
Perhaps it had simply been what it needed to be. A physical attraction that culminated in an intense night of passion to help get her back on track. Either way, the encounter had left her feeling as if she’d started to come out of a heavy fog.
“I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to see someone else. How will I know?” she asked Amelia.
“You’ll know,” Amelia said, knowingly. “When the time is right, you’ll be ready to fall in love with someone who loves you for the amazing person you are.”
Marigold looked back over the darkness of the land behind Amelia and Frederick’s home, and took another sip of wine. Was it possible that someone could do that? Finn, perhaps? The night before had felt as though their attraction was more than fleeting. Or had that been about passion and tension and letting go of terrible things that had been haunting them both?
Chapter Sixty-Two
Finn
He wasn’t sure how many text messages he’d drafted to Marigold and not sent since that night in Canberra. He had sent one back in response to her confirmation that she’d arrived in Bowral, but since then, he’d not heard from her.
He’d never had any trouble picking up the phone to a woman he’d been interested in, or sending them a message, but when it came to Marigold he couldn’t. He desperately wanted to, but everything he typed sounded pathetic. And Marigold didn’t do pathetic.
Standing in Peter’s office, he noted the various photos in frames. He’d noticed them before, but he’d never really paid too much attention to who was in them. There was a black and white photo of a man with a 1950s truck. He looked a little like Peter, and Finn wondered if it was his father, who had started D-Line. There was another of a group of smiling employees with their hands in the air as the same man cut a ribbon outside a warehouse. Finn looked closely, squinting, deciding it looked like the Bendigo site. There was one of a younger Peter, sitting in a truck talking to a driver, his shirt and tie loosened as he appeared deep in conversation. There was one of Marigold, again on a truck. She looked young – maybe sixteen or seventeen. She was standing in front of it, a keen expression on her face, watching her father as he spoke with a group of people. She was the rightful heir to D-Line, and she would inherit it not because of her name, but because she’d earned it. She would continue to earn it. She’d be the best CEO this place had ever seen – she had the perfect mix of heritage, brains and bravado.
The Problem with Perfect Page 23
