‘Father?’
‘Oh, Jasmine.’ Her father’s tone sounded somewhat distracted. ‘Can I call you back? We’re just in the middle of a prayer meeting. We should be through in about half an hour or so.’
She gritted her teeth. ‘No, don’t bother. It was nothing.’
She put the phone down and looked at the exhausted young mother in front of her.
‘Will you excuse me for a minute?’ she asked, pushing out her chair to get up. ‘I need to make a private call. I won’t be long.’
Annie nodded as she cuddled into her sleeping son’s form, each and every sharp angle of her body defeated with tiredness.
Jasmine used the staff room extension and dialled Connor’s number.
He answered on the second ring. ‘Finished already?’
She couldn’t help thinking his voice sounded disgustingly cheery considering the late hour. But then, she reminded herself, he’d probably been relaxing with his feet up on the plush leather sofa with a drink in one hand while she’d been fighting her way through a bureaucratic nightmare.
‘No, I think this is going to be an all nighter.’
‘Can I do anything to help?’ he asked.
‘Not unless you can find a safe house for a young mum and her toddler for a few days,’ she said with a sigh.
‘No room at the inn?’ he quipped.
She was glad he couldn’t see the way the corners of her mouth lifted in a reluctant smile.
‘No room anywhere, I’m afraid.’
‘What about a hotel?’
‘My client hardly has enough money to feed her little boy let alone pay for a hotel.’
‘What about a women’s refuge centre?’ he offered.
‘I’ve rung all the ones in our area and they’re all full.’
There was a small silence.
Jasmine suddenly felt embarrassed about calling him. She didn’t really understand why she had, except somehow she’d felt as if she’d needed to hear the sound of his voice.
‘Leave it with me.’ His deep voice broke across her thoughts. ‘I’ll get back to you in half an hour or so, OK?’
‘You don’t have to get involved,’ she said. ‘This is my problem, not yours.’
‘Then why did you ring me?’
‘I…’
Her hesitation gave him all the answer he needed.
‘Come on, admit it, Jasmine, you rang me because you need me.’
He was closer to the truth than he probably realised, she thought, even as she vehemently denied it.
‘I don’t need you. I can handle this on my own. I only rang to let you know I won’t be home so you wouldn’t wait up.’
She heard his soft chuckle of amusement and ground her teeth.
‘I mean it, Connor.’
‘Sure you do.’
‘I’m hanging up.’
‘Go right ahead.’
‘And don’t ring me back, I’m busy.’
‘I won’t.’
Her finger hesitated over the cut-off button. ‘And I won’t be back tonight.’
‘That’s fine.’
‘You…you don’t mind?’ Uncertainty crept into her voice.
‘Why should I mind?’
‘But…but I thought you…’
‘Listen, baby.’ His sexy tone sent a shiver up her spine. ‘In less than three days you’ll be spending every night in my bed. I know it’s hard, but if I can wait so can you.’
‘I didn’t mean that!’
He gave another deep laugh. ‘Sure you didn’t.’
‘Go to hell!’
‘I’m well on my way, or so your father told me not so long ago.’
‘I don’t think even hell is going to be hot enough for you,’ she spat back.
‘It certainly won’t be if you’re not there with me,’ he teased.
She opened her mouth to throw back a stinging retort but he’d already hung up.
She glared at the telephone for half a minute, fighting the temptation to call him back just so she could have the last word, but a sound from the next room reminded her of her responsibilities to her client.
Annie turned in her chair when Jasmine came back in.
‘Have you found somewhere for us to go?’
‘Not as yet.’ She held out her arms for the little boy who’d just woken. ‘But I’m still working on it.’
The toddler stopped snivelling as soon as Jasmine cuddled him close to her chest. She stroked his little back as she sat on the edge of her desk, breathing in the soft baby smell of him as his tiny fingers curled around a strand of her hair.
‘Annie, have you considered contacting your mother?’
Annie’s expression closed over.
‘Why should I? She gave me away when I was four years old. What sort of mother is that?’
‘I understand how you feel, especially since you’re now a mother yourself, but a few years ago things weren’t all that easy for a single mother.’
‘They’re not easy now,’ Annie put in dejectedly.
‘I know, but your mother did what she thought was best at the time. You can’t blame her for trying to give you the best chance.’
‘I can manage on my own.’ Annie’s face was determined. ‘I’ve had to ever since I was fourteen.’
Jasmine sighed. Annie was one of the saddest cases she’d ever had to deal with. Every time she took a couple of steps forward something would come along and send her three steps backwards.
Todd had warned her not to get so involved. Professional distance, he called it, but there was something about Annie Tulloch that had touched Jasmine from their first meeting. She wasn’t exactly sure what it was about the fragile young woman that stirred her so much. Most of the street kids she worked with had similar tragic backgrounds and yet Annie had slipped under her professional guard right from the start.
Little Jake gave Jasmine’s hair another tug and gurgled up at her.
‘Hey, little guy,’ she said, tickling him under the chin. ‘Don’t you know that’s no way to treat a lady?’
‘It certainly isn’t,’ said a very familiar male voice from the door.
Jasmine swung around to see Connor standing there with a take-away food bag in one hand and a hot drinks tray balanced in the other.
‘Anyone for coffee?’ he asked, stepping into the room.
It was clear from the look on Annie’s face as she eyed the paper bag he set before her that it had been quite some time since she’d eaten.
‘I got chicken nuggets for the little one.’ He took out the small container and handed it to Jasmine before turning back to Annie. ‘I’m Connor, by the way. Jasmine’s fiancé.’
Annie’s eyes widened before turning to Jasmine.
‘You’re getting married?’
Jasmine gave a chicken nugget to Jake before answering.
‘Yes…on Friday.’
‘I thought you didn’t believe in marriage?’ Annie said, popping a French fry into her mouth.
‘She’s a very recent convert, aren’t you, darling?’ Connor smiled.
Jasmine sent him a quelling look before handing Jake another nugget.
‘I’ve found accommodation for you, by the way,’ Connor announced.
‘You have?’ Jasmine and Annie spoke in unison.
‘As safe houses go this has got to be one of the safest. Beryl Hopper has spent the last twenty odd years looking after folk who need a break to get back on their feet. And don’t be fooled by the blue rinse hair and the grandmotherly figure; she’s got a black belt in just about every version of martial arts. No one but no one will get past her unless she says so.’
‘I don’t know what to say.’ Annie smiled up at him shyly.
‘Where does this Beryl woman live?’ Jasmine asked.
‘In the Blue Mountains.’ He checked his wristwatch. ‘She should be here shortly. She was visiting a friend in town but I managed to track her down before she left.’
‘There are formalities to
see to,’ Jasmine said. ‘I have to get police clearance and so on.’
Connor reached for the toddler who had held up his arms towards him.
‘You do what you need to do while this little chap and I finish off these fries.’
Jasmine reached for the phone, trying not to notice how at ease he seemed to be with the little child.
A short while later Todd came to her office to announce the arrival of Beryl Hopper who within minutes had ushered Annie and Jake out to her car with the bustling efficiency of a mother hen.
Jasmine stood by Connor’s side on the pavement and watched as the older woman’s car drove off with an ignominious hiccough or two before merging into the late night traffic.
She felt his glance on her and faced him, meeting his eyes in the shadow cast by the streetlight.
‘Thank you for what you did tonight.’
‘It was nothing.’
She gave him a long, studied look.
‘How did you meet Beryl Hopper?’
‘She was a friend of my mother’s,’ he said with a fond smile. ‘She’s been there like a bull terrier in the backyard of my life making sure I don’t go too far off the rails.’
‘She’s certainly had her work cut out for her then,’ she said with an attempt at wry humour.
He looked down at her for a long moment without speaking, his dark gaze holding hers.
‘You look exhausted.’
She gave a weary sigh as she lowered her eyes. ‘I am.’
‘Come on.’ He put his arm around her shoulders and reached for his keys. ‘Let’s get you to bed where you belong.’
Jasmine didn’t have the strength to argue with him about which bed she preferred to occupy.
Once in the car she closed her eyes and laid her head back against the soft leather upholstery, trying not to think about his hard-muscled thighs so close to hers, or about his strong, capable, long-fingered hands on the steering wheel.
Within a few minutes he pulled into his driveway and walked with her to the house, his arm still casually slung around her shoulders. She didn’t move out of his hold, even though a part of her insisted she should.
He opened the door and let his arm drop as he tossed his keys on to the hall table.
‘Do you want a drink or something?’ he asked, shrugging his jacket off.
She hovered uncertainly, not sure what he was expecting of her.
‘Hey.’ He touched her cheek with one finger in a fleeting caress. ‘Go to bed, sleepy eyes.’
‘But—’
He pressed his finger to her lips. ‘Goodnight, Jasmine.’
She turned and began treading the stairs, each and every step she took feeling like a marathon.
‘I’ll be in the spare room if you need me,’ he said as she reached the upper landing.
She turned to look back down at him. She so wanted to say she didn’t need him but it seemed like tempting fate to voice the very words that could in the end prove to be her downfall.
‘Goodnight,’ she said instead and took another step.
‘Jasmine…’
Her hand stalled on the hand rail, her heart tripping over itself in her chest at the seductive sound of his voice.
‘Yes?’
He seemed about to say something but then changed his mind.
‘Nothing. It can wait. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He turned and the study door closed behind him, the hall suddenly seeming empty without him.
Jasmine continued up the stairs and closed the bedroom door softly behind her, but even when she was curled up in the big bed a few minutes later she wondered what it would be like to sleep with his warm arms around her, their legs entwined, and his firm mouth on hers.
She pummelled the pillow and clamped her eyes shut but it was hours before she could relax enough to sleep.
When she woke the next morning there was a short note from Connor stating his absence due to a problem with one of his outlets in Brisbane. His hastily scrawled message informed her he would be back in time for the wedding.
She screwed up the note and threw it at the nearest wall. How like him to desert her just when she’d decided she needed him around!
Damn him!
CHAPTER SIX
IT SEEMED strange to Jasmine to be at a wedding where her father, in his whiter than white cassock, wasn’t presiding over the proceedings, his booming voice echoing throughout the cathedral.
For one thing, the registry office wasn’t big enough for a Bishop let alone an echo, and as she had insisted on no guests the ceremony was brief and impersonal.
She told herself she didn’t mind. She wasn’t the type to stand up in front of distant relatives, dressed like a meringue and feeling like every type of fraud for wearing a veil.
She was glad she’d worn a short bright red dress—very glad. She was the family tart, after all, so it seemed rather fitting.
However, when she first arrived, she caught Connor’s eye and she felt a momentary flutter of unease at the glitter of anger in his eyes. She knew he was annoyed and his fury at her would be intensified by the fact that he couldn’t speak to her about it until they were finally alone.
She hadn’t been at his house the night before when he had returned from interstate. She’d left her own terse note informing him of her plans to spend the night with friends. She hadn’t spent the night with anyone. She’d booked herself into a cheap hotel and spent the night eating her way through the mini bar chocolate supply, trying to convince herself she still had time to call it all off.
But she hadn’t called it off.
She still wasn’t sure why.
She wanted to put it down to her rebellious streak that insisted she do the exact opposite of what was expected of her, but deep down she knew it wasn’t that at all.
When the celebrant gave permission to kiss the bride Jasmine was unprepared for the heat and fire of Connor’s mouth on hers. It wasn’t a kiss to seal a contract; it was a kiss to remind her she’d just tied herself to a man she barely knew, a man who held all the cards.
As soon as they left the registry office a huddle of photographers crowded around as they tried to get back to his car. Jasmine put her head down as he tugged her behind him, almost tripping over her own feet as she tried to negotiate the pavement in her high heels.
At last they were in the car, several camera lenses pressed right up against the windows even as Connor began to drive away.
There was a stiff silence until they’d made their way out of the main flow of traffic.
‘I hope you’ve got a very good explanation,’ he ground out as he deftly skirted around a driver trying to reverse park.
‘I don’t have to explain myself to you,’ she bit back.
‘Perhaps not, but have you thought of how your parents are going to feel when they see tomorrow’s paper with you splashed all over the front of it dressed like a streetwalker?’
She hadn’t given her family a thought and it made her resent him for pointing it out.
‘I don’t have an extensive wardrobe,’ she said. ‘I’ll have you know this is my best dress.’
He gave her a look of frustration before turning back to the traffic slowing up ahead.
‘Then why the hell didn’t you tell me? I could’ve arranged for you to get some clothes. It’s not as if I can’t afford to dress you.’
‘I thought your main intention was to get me out of my clothes.’ She gave him a caustic glance.
‘You know something?’ He turned her way as the traffic came to a stop. ‘You’re one hell of a complicated young woman, do you know that?’
She folded her arms across her chest in a defensive pose.
‘You surely didn’t have to go to the length of marrying me to come to that conclusion, did you?’
His wry laugh broke the tension.
‘No. I guess you’re right; I didn’t.’
‘Then why did you?’ She swivelled to look at him.
He gav
e her one of his long, studied looks before answering.
‘It seemed like a good idea at the time.’
‘And now?’ She held his gaze without blinking.
‘And now.’ He put his foot back down on the accelerator as the traffic ahead began to move forwards. ‘Now we’ve made our bed, so to speak, we’re going home to lie on it.’
The car shot forward and she clutched at the armrest to steady herself. There was a promise in those dark eyes of his, and while she still didn’t know him well, she did know that was one promise he was going to keep.
But he didn’t take the turnoff to the eastern suburbs. Jasmine shot him a questioning glance as he headed for the freeway south.
‘Where are we going?’
‘I’ve got something to show you,’ he answered. ‘I got my housekeeper to pack a weekend bag for you.’
She wasn’t sure what made her angrier—the fact that he’d instructed a housekeeper she’d somehow never met to go through her things or that he hadn’t informed her of his plans for the weekend.
‘Maria comes in a couple of times a week,’ he said before she could fire up her stinging tirade. ‘She doesn’t speak much English but enough to tell me off for leaving my towels on the floor all the time.’ He gave her a quick grin but she scowled back at him.
‘I could’ve packed my own bag. I don’t like other people going through my things.’
‘You don’t have all that much to go through,’ he said dryly. ‘But once we get back to town I’ll make sure that’s rectified.’
‘If you think buying me a whole new wardrobe of clothes is going to change anything, think again. If and when I want new clothes I’ll get them myself.’
‘With what?’ He shot her a flinty glance.
She turned away from his probing eyes.
‘I have some money, not the disgusting amount someone like you earns, but I manage.’
‘You live like a bloody pauper!’ he said. ‘Why is that? Just so you can make the differences between you and your family even more marked?’
Jasmine tensed.
‘I don’t do anything of the sort. I just don’t see the need for expensive clothes when there are kids on the streets without food and shelter.’
‘Well, if those kids on the streets spent a little less on drugs and drink perhaps they would have somewhere to live and something to eat.’
The Australian's Marriage Demand Page 8
