‘I’m not going out there!’ Emily stared at the rolling breakers in front of them.
‘It’s just here that it’s rough, where the breakers are spilling. Look out beyond that last wave—nothing, just still water.’
She clung to his hand and allowed him to lead her out. After one or two big waves caught her she realised he was not going to let her go. She suddenly found herself enjoying it. A wave would roll towards them and he’d instruct her to turn her back and jump over it, and, just like a roller coaster ride, her body would be lifted up and then put down once the wall of water had passed. It wasn’t long before they were beyond the breakers, where the water was calm, the waves gently forming and rolling towards the shore, lifting their bodies from time to time before carrying on towards the sand, gathering momentum as they went.
‘I’ve never been out this far before,’ she said excitedly as she trod water beside him. ‘I’ve always been too scared.’
Damien smiled. ‘I’m glad you’re starting to trust me.’
Emily waited until the next roll of water lifted them both before replying. ‘But you don’t trust me. That hardly seems fair, don’t you think?’
He pulled her against him when a larger wave rolled towards them. Emily found her legs entwined with his, her breasts pushed up against his chest as the wave carried them forwards slightly until it went on without them to crash thunderously against the shell-encrusted shore.
He released her once the wave had gone and trod water beside her, his eyes dark and unfathomable.
‘Trust is a bit like respect; you have to earn it.’
‘It’s very hard to earn someone’s trust when they have a deep-seated bias against you,’ she said, pushing a piece of floating seaweed away from her.
‘You worked very hard to construct that bias, so I’m afraid you’ll have to work even harder to remove it,’ he said.
‘So it’s all up to me, then, is it?’ she asked, blinking the sting of salt water out of her eyes.
‘It’s up to both of us. We each have to make an effort, otherwise there’d be no point in pursuing this at all.’
She wanted to tell him there was no point. Certainly not while he had such misunderstandings about her. But just then a larger than normal wave began building behind them and he reached for her hand once more.
‘Come on, let’s see if we can catch this one to the shore.’
She followed his instructions and let the wave carry her with an exhilarating rush towards the beach. The wave spat her out in the shallows and she got to her feet, her long hair like a mermaid’s around her shoulders, her eyes shining with triumph.
‘I did it!’
He came towards her, his tall lean body glistening in the sun, his strongly muscled thighs cutting through the swirling water like a hot knife through butter. His eyes ran over her lightly.
‘So you did. Well done, and you kept your top on too. That’s some achievement.’
Emily had to smile. Her bikini top was full of sand and bits of seaweed and she’d had to clutch at her bikini bot-toms before she’d stood up to cover herself respectably.
‘Only just.’ She picked out a piece of sea lettuce from between her breasts and threw it back into the water. She looked back up at him, still smiling. ‘Thanks for taking me out there. I would never have done it by myself.’
He lifted his hand and removed another piece of seaweed from her hair, his body so close to hers she could feel the warmth of his flesh. She could see the crystals of salt water clinging to his dark eyelashes. His dark hair was pushed back off his forehead, the tense lines about his mouth no-where to be seen. She lowered her eyes to the smooth mus-cles of his chest, where droplets of sea water were trickling, making her ache to reach out and lick them away with her tongue…
A small child ran past them in the shallows and then toppled over as his little legs tripped in a gutter of sand underneath the foamy shallows. He came up screaming and Emily rushed to him, helping him up and reassuring him. The child’s mother hurried over, carrying another small child of about a year old on one hip.
‘Oh, thank you!’ she said gratefully to Emily. ‘He’s such a tearaway at times. I only turned my back for a second and he was back in the water.’
‘That’s OK.’ She stroked the little boy on the head. ‘He’s gorgeous. How old is he?’
‘Three going on thirteen,’ the young woman said rue-fully. ‘Come on, Matthew, let’s go and get an ice cream.’
The little boy trotted off with his mother and baby sister, turning once to wave back at Emily.
‘It seems you’ve got what it takes,’ Damien said as they walked towards their things on the sand.
She looked up at him, hunting his face for the derision she’d come to expect. ‘Meaning?’
He handed her a towel, his fingers brushing hers.
‘You’ll make a good mother. You have a natural affinity with children.’
She dried herself roughly as she replied, ‘You say that as if you had some doubt before.’
‘Not at all. I was just making an observation.’
‘How comforting to know you’re such an expert on de-termining whether a woman is good mother material or not. I’m glad I meet your exacting standards.’
He frowned at her as he slipped on his casual shirt, leaving it unbuttoned.
‘Would you rather I’d said you weren’t suited?’ he asked gruffly. ‘What is it with you? Every time I give you a compliment you throw it back in my face.’
‘I’m not used to hearing compliments from you.’
‘Well, then, I’ll have to work on that omission. Let’s start with this one: you look absolutely stunning in that almost-there black bikini. How’s that?’
Emily tossed her sand-encrusted hair. ‘It’s a good start.’
‘And I think you’ve got a beautiful smile when you relax enough to use it.’
She stared at him. How she wished she could tell him about her friendship with Rose. She still didn’t understand why Rose insisted she keep quiet about it. It just didn’t make any sense.
‘But I suppose Danny’s told you that many times,’ he added cynically when she didn’t respond.
‘Danny’s full of insincere compliments. I learned not to pay too much attention.’
‘Wise of you.’
They continued walking along in silence, the warmth of the afternoon sun soaking into their bodies. When they got back to Bondi Beach it was even more crowded than it had been earlier.
‘Let’s grab a coffee before we head home,’ he suggested, leading her across the busy street.
She fell into step beside him and when he finally found a vacant seat for her she slipped into it gratefully. She felt tired and more than a little out of her depth. He seemed so unreachable most of the time—aloof, distant, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with her. They’d shared such inti-macy, but ever since he’d found out about her pregnancy he’d kept his distance, hardly touching her, as if he couldn’t bear to do so. It made her feel so empty and alone, and she craved his touch all the more, even though she knew it was hopeless. His love was directed elsewhere—to Linda Janssen. She’d seen it with her own eyes; there was no point in pretending it didn’t exist. It did, and it was tearing her heart apart to even think about it.
The coffees arrived and Emily busied herself with toying with the milky froth of her latte with her teaspoon.
‘Emily.’
She looked up from her coffee; his eyes were on her, his expression serious.
‘Yes?’
He stirred his coffee absently before saying, ‘I think it’s about time I took you to visit my aunt.’
Emily’s fingers on her teaspoon stilled. ‘Has…has she requested it?’ she asked.
He gave a rueful half-smile. ‘Rose has been wanting to meet you for weeks, but I wasn’t sure it was the right thing to do. I’ve decided it’s time.’
‘What you mean is you didn’t think I could be trusted, isn’t that mo
re to the point?’ she asked with a resentful edge to her voice.
‘What I think is largely irrelevant,’ he said evenly. ‘Rose wants us both to come to dinner tonight.’
‘Does she know…’ Emily chewed her lip briefly. ‘Have you told her about—?’
‘No.’ His eyes moved away from hers. ‘I couldn’t quite bring myself to do it. She’ll find out soon enough. Perhaps you could announce it at dinner.’
‘I’m not sure my pregnancy would be an appropriate topic for a Double Bay dinner party,’ she said. ‘Especially since you’re claiming not to be the father.’
The silence was palpable. She lifted her eyes to his and then wished she hadn’t. The hard glint of barely suppressed anger reflected there frightened her.
‘How did you find out where she lives?’
Emily blinked at him, wondering what to say. He pushed his half-finished coffee away and stood up. She got to her feet and followed him out of the café, her steps dragging.
‘Get in the car,’ he commanded, opening the door for her, his tone frigid.
‘Damien, I—’
‘Get in the damn car.’
She got in the car and he shut the door heavily. She sat nervously as he went to the driver’s side and got in.
‘I expressly forbade you to make any contact with my aunt,’ he ground out as he started the car. ‘That was part of the deal.’
‘I didn’t make contact with your aunt,’ she said. ‘She made contact with me. Literally.’
Damien turned to look at her, his hands still white-knuckled on the steering wheel.
‘When? What do you mean?’
‘When you were interstate. I walked into her in the street three doors from your house and nearly knocked her over.’
He turned back to the task of driving through the intersection, his mouth set into a grim line. ‘What a windfall that must have been,’ he derided. ‘Tell me, did you take notes?’
‘Of course not! It was nothing like that.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘So, what else is new?’ she chipped at him. ‘You don’t believe a lot of things I tell you. Why should this be any different?’
‘How many times have you seen her?’
‘Several.’
He drove on in a rigid silence. Emily sat with her head turned to the passing scenery, her eyes seeing nothing. After a long pause he turned to glance at her.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because she told me not to.’
The traffic moved ahead and he turned back to concentrate on his driving.
‘All the same, you should have told me.’
‘What? And break a confidence?’ She glared across at him. ‘You’re always telling me how untrustworthy I am, how I’d do anything for a good story. I decided to prove you wrong for once.’
He frowned as he took the turn to Double Bay.
‘I don’t understand why she’d do that. She insisted I stop your book at all costs.’
‘Marrying me was rather an extreme measure, don’t you think?’
‘It was all I could think of at the time,’ he said drily, turning into his driveway.
‘What a pity you didn’t have time to think of something more dastardly, like boiling me in oil or tying me up for the crows to pick at.’
‘Believe me—’ he glanced at her darkly as he stopped the engine ‘—I haven’t ruled those things out.’
She tossed her head as she got out of the car.
‘I wouldn’t advise it,’ she warned. ‘Your aunt likes me, and I like her.’
‘Female solidarity,’ he muttered. ‘I never would’ve guessed.’
She followed him into the house, determined not to be intimidated by his mood. Why should she be the one feeling guilty when she’d done nothing wrong? Rose Margate had approached her, and once she’d felt comfortable with her had asked to continue the acquaintance. Emily hadn’t engineered any part of it, nor had she wanted to keep the arrangement quiet, as Rose had insisted.
Emily headed for the shower, leaving Damien to bring in the wet and sandy towels. Her head ached from the tension of it all, her skin felt the sting of a little too much sun and her heart felt heavy with its burden of love for a man who always believed the worst of her.
When she came downstairs an hour later he was talking on the telephone in the lounge. His gaze swept over her, taking in the close-fitting white sundress that offset the golden glow of her sun-kissed skin. Her strappy red sandals and simple red purse tied in beautifully with the colourful scarf she had used to draw her hair back from her face. The red-rose lipstick and dark mascara she wore were her only make-up apart from a spray of her favourite perfume.
He finished the call and faced her, his expression full of self-reproach. ‘It seems I have an apology to make.’
‘Oh?’ Her tone was flippant. ‘Let me guess—your aunt Rose verified my story, so now it’s OK to believe me?’
His mouth tightened. ‘Look, my aunt has refused to see anyone other than her driver, her doctor and me for years. You can hardly blame me for being suspicious.’
‘Would you like to check my purse before we go tonight?’ She handed it to him. ‘Just in case I’ve slipped in my Dictaphone or a miniature camera.’
He ignored her outstretched purse and looked at her grimly.
‘I don’t wish to argue with you. The very fact that Rose has invited anyone to her house this evening is a miracle. Let’s not spoil it for her by sniping at each other.’
‘Fine by me.’ She tossed her head.
They walked in silence towards Rose’s house. Emily glanced at Damien once or twice but decided against making idle conversation. She could tell by the set of his jaw he was keeping himself under some sort of iron control, as if he didn’t trust himself not to tell her what he really thought of her.
He finally broke the long silence as he opened Rose’s front gate.
‘I understand my aunt has informed you of her condition?’
‘Yes.’
‘I assume you understand how important it is to her that this goes no further than you or me?’
‘Does Danny know?’ she asked.
His glance towards her was razor-sharp.
‘Not that I’m aware of. And unless Rose insists otherwise it’d better stay that way.’
Emily didn’t like the way he was looking at her, as if she were the one most likely to spill the beans.
‘He won’t hear it from me,’ she assured him.
‘Good.’
Rose was dressed in a long flowing gown that looked as if it had previously been one of her theatre costumes. Emily loved the way she carried it off, in a manner that bordered on the eccentric. She waved a glass of soda water in one hand just like a fan and Emily watched as she swept Damien into her arms, just as a mother would a long-lost son. The obvious affection between Rose and Damien brought a lump to the back of Emily’s throat as she waited her turn to greet her.
‘Emily, you look ravishing—doesn’t she, Damien?’ Rose kissed both her cheeks and smiled broadly at her. ‘Was he very cross at our little secret, my dear?’ she added, winking towards the tall figure of her nephew standing at her shoulder.
Emily flicked a glance towards him as she answered, ‘He took it very well, all things considered.’
Damien’s eyes glinted, but she averted her gaze and, turning her attention to Rose’s dress, asked, ‘Is that one of your stage costumes?’
‘Yes, The Taming Of The Shrew. Isn’t it marvellous? Such a shame to gather moths in the wardrobe. I thought I’d air it tonight, since this is such a special occasion.’
‘It is?’ Emily looked between Rose and Damien as if she’d missed out on some important bit of information.
‘Yes,’ said Rose. ‘I’ve invited someone else this evening. Someone very special to Damien and me.’
Emily glanced back at Damien but his expression was inscrutable.
‘Who?’ she asked, turning back
to Rose.
Rose grinned, looking as pleased as Punch that her first social gathering in fifteen years had begun so well.
‘Linda,’ she said proudly. ‘Linda Janssen.’
Chapter Fourteen
EMILY plastered a smile to her face and fought against the desire to faint.
‘She’ll be here soon,’ Rose was saying. ‘Andre can’t make it unfortunately—some stomach bug or other. Now, what can I get you both to drink? Champagne?’
Emily shook her head. ‘I’ll just have a soda water, thank you.’
Rose’s glance was speculative.
‘I’ve got a lovely white wine if you’d prefer?’
‘Emily’s not much of a drinker, Aunt Rose.’ Damien came to her rescue. ‘I’ll have some champagne, though. What sort is it?’
He distracted his aunt by investigating the expensive-looking bottle she had sitting in the ice-bucket, and Emily felt relieved beyond expression. She sat on one of the velvet sofas and tried to prepare herself for what was ahead.
What was Rose doing, inviting both her and Linda on the same evening? What did she hope to achieve? Rose knew of the gossip that surrounded Damien and Linda. Emily herself had witnessed their relationship in the middle of the city the day before. What could possibly be gained by rubbing her nose in it like this tonight? It didn’t seem the sort of thing Rose would do. Perhaps she hoped to smooth things over in this polite social gathering, was doing what she thought was best for her nephew’s marriage by confronting the issues head on.
Emily stared at the bubbles of soda in her glass and wished herself a thousand miles away. How had her life come to this?
The doorbell sounded and Rose left them while she went to answer it. Emily glanced at Damien, but he was standing twirling the contents of his glass, looking out of the window, his back turned towards her.
Rose came back in raptures over Linda Janssen’s long elegant mulberry outfit. Emily immediately felt gauche in her simple white sundress and got to her feet, her expression guarded.
‘Damien.’ Linda moved across the room and kissed both his cheeks affectionately. ‘And Emily.’ She turned to where Emily was standing awkwardly. ‘You look lovely. Marriage suits you—every time I see you you look more beautiful.’
Convenient Brides Page 33
