by Margaret Way
“Hmm. I look forward to getting to know all about you, too,” Heath said, a definite twinkle in his eyes as he rearranged his large form on the chair until Jodie was sure he had in fact inched closer to her. “For the sake of the Department of Immigration.”
The bartender brought their drinks. Heath offered his for a toast and Jodie tapped the edge of her glass against his frosty bottle.
“So ask,” he repeated. “Ladies first.”
There were so many questions tumbling around in her somewhat squiffy mind, so, in order to get warmed up, she picked an easy one. “What did you eat for breakfast this morning?”
Heath laughed, throwing his head back and exposing his glorious tanned throat, with a perfectly sized Adam’s apple that the funeral director would have killed for. His response was so liberated and so unexpected that Jodie found herself grinning back at him.
“Pastries,” he finally said. “Three different kinds. Scrambled eggs. And a seasonal fruit platter. I had room service, remember. At home I don’t get much more exciting than poached eggs, toast and coffee.”
“Right. But, okay, you answered, so now it’s your turn.” She prepared herself for an equally endearing question and her smile muscles even began to twitch in anticipation.
But when he asked, “Why me?” she was floored.
“Excuse me?” she said after taking three large gulps of her martini.
“I understand why you wanted to marry so quickly, but what I want to know is, of all the guys you met, and all the guys you have passed on the street and talked to and flirted with and endeared yourself to all the nights of your life before and after we met, why me?”
She blinked rapidly, trying desperately to find a reasonable reply to a question that she had never truly been able to answer herself.
“If you seriously plan on giving up on us after two years, why choose me?” he asked again. “Am I that repellent that you see me as someone easy to ditch?”
Repellent? Hardly. But she needed to buy time. “Do you want a cute answer or the truth?” she asked.
He leaned toward her, resting his chin on his palm, and Jodie felt his solid thigh slide alongside hers.
“The truth every time,” he said.
Then, as if the gods had organised it for her, Jodie spotted her neighbour Scott trying to chat up Lisa in the corner while Mandy and rotten Jake watched in delight.
“You seemed the least likely to flip out during a full moon and go on a killing spree,” she said in a mad rush of inspiration. “And the least likely to be caught trying on my clothes.”
“And that’s not the cute answer?” Heath asked, and she saw his confidence slipping just a little.
“It’s both. Scott!” Jodie called out, waving madly.
Scott looked up, grinned, and then came scooting over, wiggling his thin hips in time with the music. Jodie could have kissed him when she saw he was decked out in a tiger-print Lycra top and black denim.
“Scott proposed to me before you did,” she said under her breath.
The closer Scott came, the higher Heath’s eyebrows rose. “So it was between me and him?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she said, biting her tongue to stop from laughing out loud. “Scott,” she said when he neared. “How are you?”
“Great! Thanks for inviting me, babes,” he said, going in for a lip lock.
Jodie turned her cheek at the last minute and managed to avoid a full-frontal attack. “Scott,” she said through mushed lips, “I would like you to meet my husband, Heath.”
Heath stood and gave Scott a manly handshake. “Nice to meet you, Scott,” Heath said, his voice a good octave lower than normal.
“Ah,” Scott said, backing away and rubbing at his squashed right hand, “the other man.”
“Scott,” Jodie said in warning. “Be good.”
Scott held up his hands in defence. “I am. I will. So she’s protecting you already, is she?” he said, suddenly siding with Heath. “Careful, she’ll be a real mother hen if you let her. The number of times she has let me into the apartment building in the middle of the night when I forgot my keys while Mandy wouldn’t have given a hoot—”
Jodie glared at Scott, doing her best to seem more like a fox ready to invade the chicken coop.
“Okay. Fine! I get it! Leave, Scott,” Scott said.
And Heath slowly slid back onto the stool as Scott scurried away.
“So does that answer your question?” Jodie asked. “Several, in fact.”
Jodie’s grin faltered as she found him glancing between her and Scott with a look of admiration in his eyes, and she wondered what more she had given away.
“Your turn,” Heath said, leaning across her to gather a handful of beer nuts. Jodie caught a waft of aftershave and the light remnants of shampoo and fresh cotton. She fought against taking a big deep breath. But it was too tempting.
Before she had the chance to discover if she had the guts to reciprocate his question, someone clinked a spoon against the side of a champagne glass and they were surrounded by a cacophony of tinkling glasses and people chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
Heath drew his eyes from the retreating back of Jodie’s one-time suitor to the woman herself. “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss,” the chant continued. Well, if they insisted.
Being the good host he was, Heath reached out and took Jodie’s hand, but was more than a little bothered when she stared up at him like a little lost lamb. Seriously! What was she so worried about? He was a nice guy. He had a fair idea that he wasn’t all that hard on the eye. And he had been told more often than was probably polite that his kisses were pure sin.
If the kiss that had sealed their marriage vows hadn’t sent all that home to the woman, then this kiss sure as heck would.
He hauled her into his arms, wrapping her surprised body tight. When her big green eyes looked up into his, full of apprehension and alarm, he growled so low so that only she could hear. “Try to look like you’re enjoying it, okay?”
She swallowed—her delicate throat moving in an enticing pulse. And when she nodded, he dived in.
Those lips of hers felt as good as he remembered. They fit perfectly against his, and they were oh, so soft and pliant. He was one lucky son of a gun to land himself a wife who was put on this earth for kissing.
She tasted even better than he remembered. The minty toothpaste flavour of earlier had made way for a mix of martini and appetizers. She tasted hot and spicy and as pure as fresh spring water all at once.
Wanting, needing, to get closer, he tilted his head and then, finally, finally, he felt her give in. Her delicate body melted against him, her small fingers softly curled into the hair at his neck, and with the sexiest soft sigh she was the one who then took the kiss to a whole new level of pleasure.
The kiss was suddenly not nearly enough. He wanted all of her. He wanted to undo the tempting zip that ran from her back to her hips. He wanted to watch as her dress pooled at her feet. And he wanted to touch, and feel, and kiss his way over every bit of delicious pale hidden skin.
But then it probably wasn’t such a good idea as he had himself a cheering audience. Maybe this whole “kiss her until her legs give out” thing wasn’t such a rational move after all. He fought against the tumbling need to get carried away, while at the same time doing his best to repeat his weekly grocery list in his mind so that the kiss would remain G-rated.
When he pulled away, the echo of cheering returned him to consciousness. The kiss had only lasted ten seconds at the most yet it had felt as though he had been lost in her arms for an age.
Jodie’s potent green eyes fluttered up at him as she came to—her pupils were large and dark and it took all of his strength not to throw her over his shoulder and carry her the two hundred kilometres back home.
When he disengaged his arms from around her, he felt her falter, so he caught her to him once again. “Are you okay?” he murmured against her cheek, hiding his smile from her searching eyes.
“Not qui
te,” she admitted, and he was almost undone.
He helped Jodie back onto her stool and she was soon lost to him as a flurry of females surrounded her and ribbed her and she turned to a vision of blushing pink from within their huddle.
She glanced at him from within the mass of flailing arms and champagne glasses. Her brow furrowed for a brief moment before she smiled at him. And then someone stood in his way before he was able to return her enigmatic smile in full measure.
Heath touched at his lip with his forefinger, revelling in the taste of her still lingering there. It was absolutely certain that his wife was not nearly so unaffected by him as she would like. And in a day that had him feeling as confused as a bull with udders, that was a tiny but important ember of good news.
CHAPTER SIX
IT WAS after midnight by the time Jodie and Heath got back to the apartment.
Mandy and Lisa were staying on at The Cave. They said they were having too much fun to leave but Jodie knew better. Even Lisa had half fallen under Heath’s spell and was hoping that they might have somewhat of a proper honeymoon night.
Such hopes only added to Jodie’s exhaustion. It turned out that martinis on an empty stomach were not a good mix. Martinis were definitely not her favourite drink.
Okay, so lying had something to do with the hollow feeling as well. She had told so many lies that day that she couldn’t keep them straight any more. Did she mean to honour and love Heath for ever as she had promised before everyone? Or was her two-year end goal still in place as strongly as it ever had been? Did she even have a clue?
The soft click of the front door told Jodie Heath was inside, and they were all alone with the golden light of a couple of table lamps and the sound of Sinatra singing from the speakers. The kitsch romantic set-up was all Mandy.
Jodie flicked a switch on the wall, flooding the room with cold fluorescent light, before taking the cordless phone through her bedroom and into the joint bathroom. She shut both doors, threw her daffodil bouquet into the bath, took off her right earring, then sat in her usual spot on the bath’s edge and called the one person who could be counted on to clear the ache in her head.
“Louise Valentine speaking,” her sister said down the line.
“Lou, it’s Jodie.”
“Oh, Jodie, it’s so nice to hear your voice. Thank you so much for the Beach Street DVDs. I mentioned I had them and a whole bunch of friends came around to watch on Saturday night. Did you know Angelo and Cait were actually twins? I didn’t even see that coming.”
Jodie leant back against the cool wall tiles and let Louise’s familiar accent soothe her. “I’ll keep them coming as long as they take your fancy.”
“Brilliant. You have no idea how they have kept me sane without you here to settle my nerves these last weeks.”
Jodie heard shuffling in the bedroom. It would be Heath. He had kindly agreed to sleep on the couch for the time being, but he would still be keeping clothes and the like in her room.
“How’s everything at home?” Jodie asked. “Back to normal?”
“Normal? I’m not sure what that is any more. But everything is settling somewhat into a new sort of routine.” But Jodie heard that old weariness in Louise’s voice that had dissipated with every day she had spent in Australia.
“Come on, Lou, you can tell me,” Jodie said, turning to face the gaudy floral shower curtain so as to distract herself from the zipping sounds in the bedroom.
“Well, Mum can still barely look at any of us she feels so guilty. And Dad still isn’t well at all. Yet with the Bella Lucia empire expanding exponentially he isn’t likely to find time to get better soon. I’m half afraid he’s going to want me to help out in some way, and I’m more than half afraid that if he asks, I’ll say yes. Though the last time I worked for the family it was a total disaster. Max and I fought continuously until he actually fired me. The brash bully.” Louise had to stop and draw breath. “But none of that is half as interesting as my other news. I tried calling you last night to let you know, but you must have been busy. Prepare yourself … I have set up a meeting with our mother!”
Mother? The news hit Jodie like a lead shot to the stomach. Her fist closed so tight over her right earring, the thin clasp dug deep into the flesh of her palm.
“Patricia’s back in London?” Jodie asked, so unexpectedly hurt that she hadn’t heard so from the source.
“She is,” Louise said. “She arrived back a few days ago, and the first thing she did was call me. I contemplated meeting her at one of the Bella Lucias but I think that might be a bit overwhelming.”
Kindest Lou, Jodie thought. Even though she was still not back on even ground with Ivy, she would not have flaunted Patricia in her face.
“We are meeting for afternoon tea on the top floor of the National Portrait Gallery. Some time next month, I’d say. It seems she is quite the traveller, and I’m sure I’ll have a lot keeping me busy until then. Have you been? The view of Trafalgar Square is really quite breathtaking.”
“No,” Jodie gulped. “I haven’t. And how did Mum sound?”
“We only spoke briefly on the phone yesterday, but she seemed, in a word, charming,” Louise said.
Louise sounded so animated Jodie could not tell her how charming Patricia would be when it suited her. Patricia would charm a rattle from a baby when she had to, but the flip side to that talent was truly ghastly.
“I’m so glad, Lou,” Jodie said, trying to keep the mixture of emotions from her voice. And Patricia has changed, Jodie reminded herself. With Derek in her life, and the right mix of meds keeping her stable, she has moved on, so now so can you.
But her heart still ached nevertheless. Especially considering the next day she would be heading out to the land of snakes and spiders and flies and dust, hitching her skirt into her underpants to ward off desert heat, hanging out with the first real cows she would ever know apart from those she had seen on her dinner plate. Fate sure had a funny way of twisting things.
As though she could read Jodie’s thoughts, Louise said, “I wish you were here for this, Jodie, really I do.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Jodie reached up and ran a finger beneath her moist eyes. Right in that moment she wished she were there too, but she was in a mess of her own making.
“But that’s not why you called,” Louise said. “How’s everything with you?”
Where to start? At the beginning. “I got married today, Lou.”
Silence met her at the other end of the phone. “Why didn’t you tell me that was on the cards?” Louise demanded. “I would have been there in a flash.”
“Because you would have been here in a flash and you have enough going on back in the real world to worry about me. But now that it has actually come to pass, I didn’t want to go a day without telling you.”
“Oh, Jodie, I am so happy for you. And so proud. You have gone and made your dream come true, and that is a rare thing indeed. So who is the lucky man?”
“It’s Heath. The one who took you to the airport, remember?”
“Of course I remember Heath! Even in the state I was in, he was fairly unforgettable. Oh, good choice, Jodie, truly. Apart from being a total gentleman, he is absolutely dreamy. Heath is a man worth staying for.”
“Oh, no, don’t you start. You sound like Mandy, who has conveniently forgotten that this never was a real romance. He’s not why I am staying, Lou, and you know that.”
A distinctly male voice cleared his throat in the room next door and Jodie knew it was time to go.
“Either way, tell him all the best from me, will you?” Louise said.
“Shall do. Anyway, I’d better go.”
“Goodbye, sweetie. I miss you.”
“I miss you too.” Jodie fought to keep her tears from her voice. “Bye, Lou.” And then Jodie slowly shut down the phone.
Then, before she had the chance to change her mind, she dialled in the international code and then her mother’s home phone number. With every buzz of the dia
l tone she could feel the cold of the tiles seeping through the thin material of her dress and insinuating itself through every part of her body. But eventually the line rang out.
Damn it! Why didn’t Patricia just switch on the answering machine? Her mother was impossible, that was why!
She wished the phone were old-fashioned so she could slam it down, but instead she had to get her kicks from pressing the off button with as much vehemence as she could focus in her index finger. The accompanying soft beep was hardly helpful.
She spun about, kneeled on the closed toilet seat to face the mirror and took a moment to clear the wobbly track of mascara running down her cheek and smooth down her eight-hour-old hairdo.
As she turned back she started when she found Heath standing in the now-open bathroom door. He still wore his black trousers and his white shirt was unbuttoned all the way through and hung loose at his hips. His feet were bare and his belt was gone. And she could do little but gawk.
What on earth was she doing with some hot blonde stud in her bedroom? How had her life come to this? And in such a way that she had demanded of herself a purely platonic relationship with said stud? What was wrong with her? How screwed up did a woman have to be?
“I knocked,” Heath said, his voice low in the quiet room. “Twice. After I heard you hang up the first time. But you didn’t answer. Is everything okay?”
Jodie nodded. But when she found herself fighting against a new wash of tears, she wondered if it really was.
Suddenly when everything she had wanted for so long had fallen into place, she felt as though it had spiralled out of her control. In marrying Heath she had gained herself an abundance of new family members who had welcomed her as one of their own, while the sister she really needed by her side was hurting and troubled back in the London she had so determinedly left behind.
Yet she had thought she was done with caring. She had cared so much for her troubled mother she had become certain there was not a drop of love left inside her to give to anyone else—except herself. She couldn’t risk the fact that maybe she could care for another with such ferocity again, for surely that would sap her dry and she would disappear inside that love, an empty shell of a woman never to be found again.
