The Australian's Marriage Demand

by MELANIE MILBURNE

  ‘You two want a coffee or something?’ Rangi asked, glancing between them.

  ‘Not this time.’ Connor spoke for both of them. ‘Jasmine’s had a long day and I’ve got an early flight in the morning. Thanks, anyway.’

  ‘No problem.’ Rangi held out his hand once more. ‘Come back some time and I’ll show you round the place.’

  ‘I’d like that.’ Connor smiled and reached for Jasmine’s hand. ‘Come on, honey, let’s get you home.’

  She waited until they were outside before she spoke.

  ‘Where are you flying to in the morning?’

  He drew her closer to his side as a wobbling couple came towards them, the young woman tottering on impossibly high heels as her inebriated partner sang at the top of his voice.

  He waited until they were well past before answering.

  ‘I’m flying to Perth for two days, then to Adelaide, but don’t worry, I’ll be back in time for the wedding.’

  Her heart sank at the thought of facing the rest of the week without him to banter with; she’d become so used to it she almost craved it now.

  ‘Is there anyone you’d like to invite to the ceremony?’ he asked as they came to his car.

  She shook her head.

  ‘I told you before: no guests, no photographs.’

  He frowned as he deactivated the central locking.

  ‘But what about friends, or a favourite relative, perhaps?’

  She looked away. ‘My mother’s an only child and my father hasn’t spoken to his younger sister in decades.’

  He quirked one brow. ‘Some sort of family feud?’

  She gave a little shrug.

  ‘I don’t know. Ever since I can remember the topic of Aunt Vanessa has been out of bounds. Apparently she did the unforgivable and brought shame on the Byrne name.’

  ‘Like you?’ His eyes held hers for a moment.

  She returned his look without blinking.

  ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Just like me.’

  He opened the door for her and she slipped under his arm to take her seat, her awareness of him intensifying a hundredfold as his hand lifted a lock of her trailing hair out of the way of the door just before he closed it.

  She was silent on the journey back to her flat, Connor driving the short distance without even glancing once in her direction. She wondered if he was thinking about their wedding ceremony in four days’ time and whether he had even half the misgivings she currently harboured about the union, or if he was secretly congratulating himself on finally bringing about a solution to his deceased mother’s estate. His future would now be secure with a token wife in tow, while he carried on with his life just as he had before. It wasn’t as if it were a love match; he’d made no promises to her and nor did she expect him to. When it came down to it, she hardly knew him, she realised with a little jolt when she sneaked a covert glance his way. What was going on inside that handsome, dark-haired head? What was he seeing from behind those dark brown eyes?

  Her eyes lowered to his hands where they were resting on the steering wheel and she gave a tiny shiver. What were those hands planning to do once they had placed a wedding ring on her finger?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  IT ONLY took Jasmine half a day to pack her things ready to move into Connor’s house. She sat back on her heels and sighed as she surveyed her five cardboard cartons on the floor in front of her. Her few meagre belongings wouldn’t be taking up too much space in his Woollahra mansion but she refused to be ashamed. It had been her choice to live simply and just because she was marrying into the Harrowsmith family didn’t mean she was going to rush out and buy a whole lot of designer wear.

  Connor had organised a key for her and arranged for a removal firm to pick up her things while he was in Perth. Jasmine had just as quickly cancelled the removal van and caught a cab instead.

  When she arrived with her things in the cab, it was the first time she’d seen his house. She was glad he was interstate so she could look around at her leisure, hoping she would learn something about the enigmatic man she was marrying in less than four days.

  It was a big house but not really pretentious in either size or décor. The cab driver carried her things to the foyer for her and once he’d gone she closed the door and looked around.

  The long, wide hallway had various doors leading off it and a Persian runner lined the floor over highly polished floorboards. A grandfather clock was ticking rhythmically in the background and a wide staircase wound itself in a half turn to the floor above.

  Jasmine went to the first door and looked in. It was a large sitting room, tastefully appointed, comfortable sofas and stylish lighting with beautiful formal cream curtains at the bay windows. Again the polished floorboards were occasionally interrupted with Persian rugs, which looked as if they were velvet.

  She went to the next room where she found a long cedar dining table with seating for at least twenty, the beautifully carved chairs each in themselves like works of art. The colour of the dining room walls was a dark forest green and the curtains at the windows a rust-coloured fabric with a gold edging.

  The kitchen wasn’t large but it was decorated all in white, giving it the appearance of space, and the high-tech appliances added to the overall affect of functionality.

  She wandered through each of the remaining downstairs rooms, noting the tastefully decorated bathrooms, and the utility room near the back door which led out to a neatly landscaped garden, resplendent in the golds and reds of autumn from the various European trees situated there.

  She left the upper floor till last. The closer she got to the main bedroom the more uncomfortable she became. She knew Connor was out of town and not likely to find her in his room but even as she cautiously opened the door she felt his dark eyes following her every movement even though he was at least a couple of thousand kilometres away.

  His room was dominated by a huge bed, the linen of a caramel tone with white edging. There was one large rug which almost covered the entire floor except for a border of about a foot all round where the floorboards shone through.

  A door to the right led to an en suite bathroom and, tempted as she was to check if there were any wet towels on the floor, she somehow resisted the urge to peek. Another door led to a walk-in wardrobe and, this time giving in to the temptation, she went in and looked at his clothes hanging in neat rows.

  It was like being in the room with him.

  She could even detect his distinctive male smell, a combination of a particular brand of aftershave and his own masculine scent. Almost of its own volition her hand went out and touched one of his shirts, holding the sleeve against her face, breathing in the fragrance, imagining his arms coming around her and…

  ‘Looking for somewhere to hang your things?’ His deep voice sounded behind her.

  Jasmine swung around so quickly the shirt she’d been holding came off its hanger and landed in a heap at her feet.

  ‘I…I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow?’ She knew her face was aflame for the walk-in wardrobe suddenly felt over-hot, as if someone had turned on a heater to full power.

  ‘The Adelaide meeting was cancelled at the last minute.’ His eyes flicked to his shirt on the floor.

  She bent to pick it up, her fingers fumbling over the task of replacing it on the hanger. She hung it back with the rest of his shirts before facing him.

  ‘My… My things are downstairs,’ she stammered. ‘I…I wasn’t sure where you wanted me to put them.’

  His expression was so hard to read in the soft light of the wardrobe. She felt increasingly uncomfortable in the small space, and her breathing instantly became shallow and hurried.

  ‘There’s plenty of room in here.’ He reached past her and pushed the left row of his suits out of the way. ‘Put what you can here and I’ll have my housekeeper clear some space in the drawers later.’

  While he was rearranging his clothes, Jasmine took the opportunity to back out of the wardrobe.


  He followed her out and looked down at her standing before him with her bottom lip caught between her small white teeth.

  ‘Will you have a problem sharing my wardrobe?’ he asked.

  ‘No.’ She let her lip go. ‘I have a problem sharing your bed.’

  ‘But that’s what married couples do,’ he pointed out with a mocking twist to his mouth.

  ‘But our…’ she hesitated over the word ‘…marriage isn’t going to be like an ordinary marriage.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘I don’t want to complicate things by sleeping with you.’

  ‘Listen, honey.’ His tone was dry. ‘It will complicate things a whole lot more if you don’t.’

  ‘It seems so…so cold-blooded. We’re practically strangers and we don’t have any feelings for each other.’

  ‘I don’t know about that,’ he drawled. ‘I certainly feel something for you.’

  She gave him a frosty look.

  ‘Now you’re making fun of me again. You can’t possibly feel anything for me other than lust and I despise you for it.’

  ‘Is that so?’ His dark eyes glittered.

  ‘Yes.’ Her mouth was tight. ‘I despise you for taking advantage of my…my little mistake and allowing it to go this far. One word from you and the baying hounds of the press would’ve gone elsewhere looking for blood, but no, you let them run me to the ground.’

  ‘Perhaps I should point out that I have absolutely no control over what the press says or does. I was hounded myself as soon as I touched down in Perth and it was a hundred times worse at Mascot when I landed an hour ago.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘It seems the marriage of a notorious playboy to a bishop’s daughter sells papers. Everyone wants an exclusive. You only have to look outside if you don’t believe me.’

  Jasmine frowned and, hesitating for half a minute, moved across to the windows and looked down.

  ‘Oh, my God!’ She swung back around to face him. ‘There must be twenty journalists out there!’

  ‘I know.’ His expression was rueful. ‘And I’ve just told each and every one of them to go to hell.’

  She sat on his bed and twisted her hands together in agitation. ‘What can we do?’

  He shrugged off his suit jacket and reached back inside the wardrobe for a hanger.

  ‘Nothing until Friday. Once the marriage is finalised I think we’ll be left alone.’

  His eyes met hers across the room. ‘Trust me, Jasmine. Our marriage will solve this little problem once and for all.’

  Jasmine wondered if that were strictly true. Sure, it might resolve the public’s interest in them and leave them to get on with their lives, but their marriage was going to produce some problems of its own, the first one being the increasing ambiguity of her feelings for him.

  How was she supposed to keep them hidden? How was she supposed to walk away when she ceased to be useful to him, as was surely to happen at some time in the not too distant future?

  How would she survive it?

  She stayed where she was, perched on the edge of his bed, and watched as he unpacked his case, her eyes drinking in the sight of the muscles of his back as he bent to pick up something off the floor.

  He turned suddenly and caught the tail end of her look and a teasing smile lit his eyes.

  ‘Do your parents know we’re going to be living in sin till Friday?’

  She gave him an icy look and crossed her legs to stop the flow of heat from her lower body.

  ‘We’re not exactly living in sin,’ she pointed out with as much primness as she could.

  ‘No, more like living in lust,’ he said, grinning.

  ‘Don’t be so ridiculous!’ She crossed her arms as well.

  He closed his suitcase and shoved it into the corner of the wardrobe before closing the door and leaning back against it with his customary indolence.

  ‘Why does the thought of physical intimacy threaten you so much?’

  She forced herself to meet his gaze.

  ‘I’m not threatened; I just prefer to feel something other than hatred for my sexual partners.’

  ‘If you truly hated me, Jasmine, you would’ve insisted on your father marrying us and preaching a forty minute sermon on the Seven Deadly Sins while he was at it.’

  She felt a reluctant smile tug at her mouth and hastily looked away.

  ‘What are the Seven Deadly Sins, by the way?’ he asked.

  She began rattling them off without thinking. ‘Pride, wrath, envy, gluttony, avarice and…’ She stopped and chanced a look at him.

  ‘And?’ he prompted with a glint in his dark eyes.

  She sprang off the bed and stalked over to the window to see if the press had moved on, her back stiffly turned against his teasing smile.

  ‘I can’t stay locked up in here for the rest of the week,’ she bit out. ‘I just can’t.’

  She felt him move across the room to stand at her shoulder, with barely the width of a hair separating them.

  She held her breath as his hand reached out to separate the curtains so he could inspect the scene below. The curtain fell back into place and he turned, his hands coming to rest on her shoulders as he looked down at her.

  ‘The press gang has just about gone,’ he reassured her. ‘If we give it another half an hour it will be dark and we can go and have a meal somewhere in peace.’

  She felt herself drowning in the chocolate pools of his eyes, the warmth of his hands penetrating the fabric of her top until she was sure his fingers would be permanently imprinted on her flesh.

  She could feel the strength of his long thighs so close to hers, not quite touching, but her lower body already felt as if he was probing her intimately. She could feel the tug of her inner muscles preparing…anticipating…aching…

  The sound of the telephone from the side of the bed broke the moment. Jasmine wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or annoyed at the intrusion.

  ‘It’s for you.’ He handed her the extension and she took it from him with an unsteady hand.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘Jasmine, it’s Todd. Your mother told me I’d find you on this number. We need you at the clinic. Annie, that girl you’ve been working with, the one with the little kid, has been asking to see you for the past hour. I can’t get rid of her and the kid is howling like a banshee. Casey called in sick and Rangi’s got his hands full with two attempted suicides down at the hospital. Can you come?’

  Her eyes met Connor’s and she felt an unexpected sensation of warmth when she saw him reach for his car keys.

  ‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ she promised and hung up the phone.

  Connor pulled up outside the clinic and strode around to open her door.

  ‘What time do you think you’ll be finished?’ he asked as she stepped out.

  ‘I’m not sure.’

  ‘Call me and I’ll pick you up.’

  ‘It might be very late.’ She addressed the bottom of his chin, not wanting him to see the gratefulness in her eyes.

  He tipped up her face with the end of one long, very male, finger.

  ‘Call me, Jasmine. Promise.’

  She felt her breath hitch in her chest as she held his unwavering gaze.

  ‘I promise.’

  He bent his head and sealed her mouth with his in a brief, hard kiss. Then, without another word, he stepped back from her to swing away to get back into his car.

  She stood on the pavement as he deftly re-entered the traffic, listening to the roar of his powerful car as he skirted it around an off-loading cab, watching until his bright red tail-lights gradually disappeared into the distance.

  One of her fingers went to her mouth and tentatively traced where his lips had been.

  She dropped her hand and sighed as she turned to enter the clinic, but even hours later, whenever she sent her tongue out to moisten her lips, she was sure she could still taste him.

  Annie Tulloch was clutching her young toddler to her che
st when Jasmine entered her small office space. It was clear that, although the infant was now asleep, he hadn’t been for all that long, judging from the tracks of tears down his grubby little face. It was also evident from the harried look on the young mother’s face that this was not going to be a simple social call.

  ‘I’m not using anything if that’s what you’re thinking,’ she said even before Jasmine had shut the door.

  Jasmine drew her chair close and sat down, touching the young woman on her thin arm encouragingly.

  ‘I didn’t think that at all. I know how determined you are now for Jake’s sake. You’ve done so well, I’m very proud of you.’

  Tears glittered in the young woman’s eyes as she bent her head to her son’s ruffled dark curls.

  ‘Wade’s coming out of jail,’ she gulped. ‘I know he’ll come for us, I just know it.’

  Jasmine drew in a painful breath. Wade Evert’s criminal record already contained three accounts of domestic assault; she had no doubt he would have no hesitation in adding a fourth.

  ‘What about the women’s refuge?’ she asked. ‘You’d be safe there for a few days until the authorities inform you of his movements.’

  ‘I came here from there,’ Annie said. ‘They’re totally full. There wasn’t even sleeping room on the floor.’

  Jasmine chewed the end of her nail as she considered the possibilities.

  ‘What about another suburb?’ She reached for the telephone. ‘I’ll do a quick ring around to find a place for you and Jake.’

  Even as she dialled the numbers she knew it was hopeless. Refuge places were few and far between. With the government dollar being squeezed so tightly, people like Annie and little Jake stood very little chance of being placed on priority. Annie’s drug use history worked against her as surely as her dark colouring. It made Jasmine’s blood boil at the injustice of it all.

  After eight calls she put the telephone down in disgust. She drummed her fingers on the desk in front of her for a moment or two before snatching up the receiver again and quickly stabbing at the numbers.

  The telephone seemed to ring for ages before it was picked up.