Marriage on Command

by Lindsay Armstrong

  She finished her coffee and lay back. ‘There’s not a lot I can do about that.’

  ‘I think you should bite the bullet and move your grandparents in with you.’

  She grimaced and combed her fingers through her hair.

  ‘You do love them.’

  ‘I adore them—I’ll think about it.’

  He stretched his legs out and thought how small she looked. And pale against that wonderful auburn hair. Then he thought of her standing in the shower, looking all dazed but exquisite, with her slender lines, gentle curves and pink satiny skin… He moved restlessly and issued a warning to himself along the lines of—Don’t go down that road, mate. She’s right about the complications.

  But there was something about her at the moment that he couldn’t put his finger on, he mused.

  ‘You’re not…’ He paused. ‘Not upset with yourself because your one-woman SWAT team didn’t come through, or anything ridiculous like that, Lee?’

  ‘No. Damien—how old do you take me for?’ she asked ruefully.

  ‘You look about sixteen at the moment,’ he commented a little dryly. ‘I don’t suppose you have anything to help you sleep?’

  ‘Uh—I haven’t. But I’ll be fine.’

  ‘Sure?’ He got up and came to stand beside the bed with a frown in his eyes. ‘You’ve been awfully quiet.’

  ‘I think I’m exhausted,’ she replied, and discovered it was true as she couldn’t help yawning.

  ‘All right. See if you can sleep. I’ve got some work to do so I’ll be around for a while; I’m only down the passage. Goodnight, Lee.’ He switched off the bedside lamp and laid his hand briefly against her cheek. ‘Sleep well.’

  ‘Goodnight, Damien, thanks for everything,’ she said drowsily.

  And she did fall asleep, but only for a couple of hours. Then she woke up and she was back in the creek, trapped, freezing and scared of drowning, imagining a snake swimming towards her. She cast aside the bedclothes and stumbled out of bed, making quite a noise on the polished floor, and as she bumped into the bedside table. Then a strong pair of arms surrounded her and Damien was saying, ‘Lee, Lee—you’re quite safe! I’m here!’

  ‘Oh, thank heavens!’ she breathed. ‘Don’t let me go, please!’

  He hadn’t.

  He’d taken her back to bed and got in beside her, still fully clothed. And he’d held her and talked to her about anything and everything. Vanuatu—which he knew well, apparently—his father—who had been the kind of man you either loved or hated and the times he hadn’t been sure whether he loved or hated him back.

  She’d dozed off a couple of times, only to wake with that wrenching jerk, but he had still been there. Then she’d fallen into a deep, dreamless sleep.

  It was just daylight when she woke, to find him still there, asleep beside her with his arms wrapped around her.

  She tried not to move as the growing light revealed his features to her—less autocratic in sleep than she’d ever seen them, with blue shadows on his jaw. But he woke of his own accord not much later, and blinked at her uncomprehendingly. Then, looking wry, he said, ‘Well, Mrs Moore, it’s finally come to this! No, just joking.’ And he started to release her.

  But Lee couldn’t let it happen. She slipped her arms around his neck and cuddled up against him.

  ‘Lee.’ He moved his chin on the top of her head and his voice was different, serious. ‘I think I better get going, otherwise—who knows what might happen?’

  ‘That’s fine with me.’

  She felt him stiffen, then he was tilting her chin so he could see her eyes. ‘What do you mean?’

  She didn’t attempt to evade his intent, frowning gaze. ‘I…need you, Damien. Please stay.’

  He went to say something, changed his mind and said instead. ‘It’s no way to try to block out snakes, creeks and nightmares, Lee.’

  ‘It’s not that,’ she said calmly. ‘It may well pass, but right now I can’t think of anything I’d rather be doing, that’s all. Besides, I’ve got something to prove.’

  ‘All? What have you got to prove?’ he asked.

  ‘That I’m not sixteen,’ she said softly.

  ‘Lee—that was— Would you rather I’d taken advantage of you last night?’

  ‘No. You have my permission to take full advantage of me this morning, though.’ And she moved against him, offered him her mouth.

  Damien stared down at her face, with its freckles, the swathe of wonderful hair, her closed eyes, and he shut his teeth hard. ‘I could easily have done this last night,’ he said frustratedly. ‘You were so lovely, so lost-looking, but…’

  Her lashes lifted, a faint smile curved her lips, and a glint of pure essence of Lee Westwood amusement lit her green eyes.

  He groaned, hugged the slim, warm length of her to him, and knew he was gone. Which he acknowledged with a wry twisting of his lips before he started to kiss her.

  While it was warm and amusing to begin with, it soon got completely out of hand… At least, that was what Lee’s impression of it was and it caused her to wonder what her expectations had been. To keep it light? But how strange was that? To be so determined to sleep with a man and then try to keep it light?

  Not long afterwards she couldn’t think about anything but what he was doing to her…

  ‘Let’s not rush this,’ he said huskily.

  ‘No—I mean—was I rushing?’

  He cupped her face, then slid his hands down the column of her throat, flicked open a couple of buttons and spread them across her shoulders beneath her nightgown.

  ‘No. I was directing that warning to myself.’

  She looked into his eyes and saw they were quizzical.

  ‘I don’t know whether to believe you,’ she murmured, and moved as two more buttons were released and his hands covered her breasts.

  ‘You should,’ he replied. ‘Ever since I tucked a carnation between these I’ve wondered about them.’

  Lee bit her lip and closed her eyes as he started to play with her nipples. A rush of exquisite sensation flowed through her.

  ‘Nice?’ he queried.

  ‘Oh, yes…’

  ‘Exceedingly nice for me too, except—’

  Her lashes flew up and he laughed softly at her expression.

  ‘Except that I’d like to see what I’m doing, that’s all,’ he reassured her. ‘May I?’

  She could only nod and lie quietly beside him once her nightgown was removed. Then not so quietly as he propped his head on his elbow and drew his hand down her body slowly, very gently, and told her what he thought of her figure. ‘Such a revelation out of your baggy T-shirts and eternal jeans,’ he murmured as that stroking hand moved down. ‘You know that black dress you’re rather scathing about these days?’

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘It was the first intimation I got that there was so much sheer class to you.’

  ‘Class?’ she whispered.

  ‘Yes. Skin like satin. Perfect little breasts.’ He touched them. ‘A fascinating bottom and legs—mind you, I did always think you had great legs. Last night in the shower, all rosy from the warm water, you were like a figurine any man would love to own.’

  Lee breathed unevenly as his hand circled her hips and the tops of her thighs, then moved away tantalisingly. ‘Thank you.’ She sat up suddenly. ‘But there’s only so much more of this I can take.’

  He sat up as well, and pulled his shirt and tracksuit pants off. He took her in his arms and she sighed with pleasure, because he felt wonderful, hard and strong, and it was glorious to move against him, to run her hands across the width of his shoulders, to feel her breasts crushed against the wall of his chest. And that was when things began to get thoroughly out of hand…

  That was when they explored each other’s bodies intimately, until the lovely rhythm of lovemaking enveloped them and there was only one thing left to do—take and be taken. Something he did as he kissed her breasts and teased her nipples with his teeth, so that
she arched in his arms, exquisitely mindless with desire.

  She thought things had got out of hand before, but their climax was simultaneous, and the sensations that washed through her were so unique she felt as if she’d broken through to some rare upper atmosphere. It took a while for her slim, sweat-soaked body to come down from those incredible heights…

  ‘Well.’

  It wasn’t a question, and it wasn’t quite a statement of surprise that Damien made, but close to both.

  Her lashes fluttered up. She was still in his arms and he kissed the tip of her nose. ‘What do you mean—well?’ she whispered.

  He grimaced. ‘That was exceedingly…fine.’

  ‘And a bit of a surprise?’ she hazarded.

  He hesitated. ‘Don’t take this wrong, but…’ His lips twisted, ‘You’ve always been full of surprises, Lee. On the other hand, I got the feeling it had never happened for you before.’ His dark eyes were narrow and suddenly probing.

  A faint wash of colour rose in her cheeks, but she said honestly, ‘It hadn’t. Not like that. I had started to wonder if there was something wrong with me, but I’ve actually had very little experience, so…’ She shrugged, then looked impish. ‘Either that or I was in the hands of a master.’

  He looked fleetingly amused. ‘It had not a little to do with your hands, Mrs Moore. So.’ He smoothed her hair. ‘I think you’d better come to Vanuatu with me, Lee.’

  Once again a battle royal continued in the Porsche as it flashed towards Brisbane.

  ‘Still not speaking to me?’ he queried.

  ‘I said it all and you took no notice of me. You actually threatened me with violence, Damien,’ she said, staring straight ahead.

  ‘All I threatened was that I would bodily put you in the car myself, Lee. Hardly violence.’ He glinted her a wicked little look.

  ‘That’s a matter of opinion. You…you just took over!’ She spread her hands, then clenched them into fists.

  ‘At least you know you don’t have to worry about Plover Park. Your grandparents are more than happy to caretake for you for a few days.’ He paused significantly. ‘They thought a bit of a break was just what you need!’

  She said nothing.

  ‘Of course I have to wonder what the root cause of this rebellion is,’ he continued reflectively. ‘Were you planning to sleep with me just the once, Lee?’

  ‘You’re doing it again, Damien. I am not a rebellious teenager! I’m quite entitled to make whatever decisions I make!’

  ‘Only once?’ he mused. ‘I mean if you’re going to do it all—’

  ‘I—it—I just wanted to do it at the time,’ she broke in intensely. ‘I haven’t thought beyond that yet—I haven’t had the chance!’

  He laughed softly. ‘More rushing in where angels fear to tread? Unfortunately, Lee, once may have been enough for you, but it’s not for me.’ He looked across at her. ‘Not by a long chalk, my lovely sprite.’ He put his hand over her clenched fists. ‘In fact it’s just as well we have a plane to catch, otherwise I’d be tempted to stop at the nearest hotel.’

  Lee blinked at him and licked her lips. ‘Really?’

  His dark eyes played over her and were suddenly deadly serious. ‘You don’t know much about men. Really, Lee.’

  Two afternoons later on Erakor Island, a few minutes’ ferry ride from Port Vila, the capital of Vanuatu, the setting sun laid a dancing path of light across the Erakor Lagoon as Lee watched. The thin crooked stakes of a fish trap stood to attention in the water and a Vanuatan paddled a small outrigger canoe fashioned from a hollow tree trunk towards the trap.

  But as she watched from the veranda of their bungalow, which was right on the water, the serene scene started to change. The waves on the inner bar got up and were audible as the wind changed, or maybe the tide turned. Then the sun was blanked out by cloud and it began to rain heavily. The hammering on the roof, straight down kind of rain, that caused the surface of the water to dimple and spit—rain that shrouded the view in a curtain of grey and made the air hot and heavy with humidity.

  It didn’t last long, slowing to a shower as it swept out to sea, and the surf was audible again, the colours briefly restored. The setting sun, sinking through charcoal strata cloud like an old rose-gold ball, swiftly lost its power to make the water dance along the path of its rays. Dusk crept in.

  Lee watched it all entranced. She’d fallen in love with Erakor Island. It was like a lush tropical park, she’d thought as she’d first wandered down the broad beaten path beneath the soaring coconut palms and beside giant liliums. A park with ghosts.

  She’d strayed from the path onto the thick smooth turf and come across two graves. Amanda Bruce, missionary and wife of the Reverend J.W. Mackenzie in one, and her three babies in the other. She’d lost the first one on Christmas Day, 1875, at thirteen months, then two more at similar ages over the next twelve years. She had died in 1893.

  Tears had come to Lee’s eyes as she’d read the inscriptions and she’d wondered if Amanda Bruce had had any surviving children.

  Further down the path she’d come to a stone erected in memory of the four Samoans who had first brought the gospel to Erakor. But Erakor was about life too, she’d discovered, while Damien had been closeted in conferences on the mainland with his wayward client and she had been left to her own devices.

  The Erakor people had been relocated to the mainland, just across the lagoon, but they worked on the island, at the resort, and were partners in it.

  There was an open-air chapel on the island that was still used for weddings, and the relocated village of Erakor, across the water, abounded with life. There was always chatter and laughter floating across the lagoon, and there was a football ground just beyond the beach, where they trained and played. There were often children swimming and diving. And how wonderfully simple to step into an outrigger canoe and paddle your way across the lagoon to work? The Erakor people also fished from their canoes, or snorkelled for shellfish.

  Lee had snorkelled herself, and been fascinated by the millions of different coloured starfish that lay on the sandy bottom of the lagoon. She was fascinated by the people, too, with their friendliness and their sense of humour.

  From the mainland you could summon the ferry twenty-four hours a day by pushing a button that rang on the island. And from the island, if the ferryman wasn’t in sight, there was a gong you hit with a club, beneath a sign that said, ‘Sipos yu wantem ferry, yu killem gong’.

  And last night, beneath a full moon, a woman in the village had started to sing a song like no other Lee had heard, her voice carrying as clear as a bell in the still, silvery night.

  She was thinking of that moon song again now, then heard a sound and turned her head to look into the bungalow to see Damien stretch and sit up. He’d been up most of the night and had worked all morning, so an afternoon nap hadn’t seemed such a bad idea—although he’d told her he was a man who never napped, just before he’d fallen fast asleep.

  Now, he ran his hands through his hair, looked at his watch and grimaced. ‘Sorry—’

  ‘Don’t be. I’ve been quite happy,’ she said, and opened her arms wide to embrace the whole experience of Erakor.

  ‘So this wasn’t such a bad idea after all, Lee?’

  ‘It was brilliant,’ she conceded.

  ‘Come here, then.’

  She got up and joined him on the bed.

  He took her in his arms and lay back with her. ‘My ideas generally are brilliant.’ He kissed her throat and slid his hands beneath her blouse.

  ‘Ah. Has it occurred to you how smug that sounds?’

  ‘Smug? Why are you wearing a bra, by the way?’

  ‘I generally do and, yes, smug. Don’t change the subject.’

  ‘OK.’ He unbuttoned her blouse and took it and her bra off.

  ‘Damien…’ She breathed unevenly as he played with her nipples. ‘If that’s not changing the subject I don’t know what is.’

  ‘On the contrary,
Lee, it’s a subject that is wholly occupying my mind at the moment. Ah, I love it when they do that.’

  Her nipples had peaked beneath his fingers and the sensations she was coming to know well were starting to wash through her. Desire, like a lovely tide, flowed from her breasts to the secret, sensitive core of her and was so strong she gasped his name in a plea, to tell him it was more than she could bear. But he was as ready as she was. Their lovemaking was swift, yet utterly splendid, and left her shuddering in his arms, clinging to him and he to her.

  ‘Was that rushed or what?’ he murmured at last, and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder.

  ‘Whatever, it was wonderful.’ She threaded her fingers through his hair. ‘Could there be something to be said for an afternoon nap?’

  ‘In so much as I woke up with this on my mind, yes,’ he agreed ruefully. ‘And I’ll tell you something else.’ He lifted his head and looked laughingly into her eyes. ‘If you thought I was smug before, it’s nothing to how I feel now.’

  ‘I see,’ she replied gravely. ‘How do you think I feel?’

  ‘Uh…wonderful?’

  ‘You are incredibly smug, Damien Moore,’ she told him severely, then relented. ‘Unfortunately I can’t tell you that you’re wrong.’

  ‘Then perhaps I can tell you, Lee, that thanks to you I feel so wonderful I’m about to leap up and drag you off for a swim.’

  ‘It’s dark,’ she protested.

  ‘There’s a light on the spit and the tide’s still high, so we won’t have to go far out, and these are very placid waters.’

  ‘You’re right. OK.’ She jumped off the bed and pulled her bikini on. ‘Race you!’

  The water was wonderful, and they frolicked for about half an hour.

  ‘This is gorgeous,’ Lee enthused as she surfaced and Damien pulled her into his arms.

  ‘You’re gorgeous,’ he told her.

  She laughed down at him as water streamed off her. ‘Actually, I meant you too, and the water.’ She put her hands on his shoulders and her legs around his waist. ‘I just wish I didn’t have to go home tomorrow.’ She stopped and looked surprised.