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The Bridesmaid's Baby Bump
Kandy Shepherd


The billionaire bachelor’s baby!When party planner Eliza Dunne meets billionaire Jake Marlow at a wedding, she decides to finally give into the sparks that have always fizzed between them!The connection is so intense that Jake can’t resist Eliza – but with the divorce only just final after his unhappy marriage, he’s not ready for anything serious. But when Eliza tells him her shocking news – she’s pregnant with his baby! – he has one certainty: he wants to be at the centre of his new family, as a husband and father…









Up until the moment when the screen had come alive with the image, the pregnancy had been an abstract thing to Jake.


But there on the screen had appeared a baby. Only about six centimetres at this stage, the radiographer had explained, but a totally recognisable baby. With hands and feet and a face. To the palpable relief of everyone in the room, a strong and steady amplified heartbeat had been clearly audible.

Jake had felt as if his own heart had stopped beating, and his lungs gone into arrest as, mesmerised, he’d watched that image. He was a man who never cried, but he’d felt tears of awe and amazement threatening to betray him. He hadn’t been able to look at Eliza—the sheer joy shining from her face would have tipped him over. Without seeming to be aware that she was doing it, she had reached for his hand and gripped it hard. All he’d been able to do was squeeze it back.

This was a real baby. A child. A person. Against all odds, he and Eliza had created a new life.

What he had to do became very clear.




The Bridesmaid’s Baby Bump

Kandy Shepherd





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


KANDY SHEPHERD swapped a career as a magazine editor for a life writing romance. She lives on a small farm in the Blue Mountains near Sydney, Australia, with her husband, daughter and lots of pets. She believes in love at first sight and real-life romance—they worked for her! Kandy loves to hear from her readers. Visit her at www.kandyshepherd.com (http://www.kandyshepherd.com).


To my wonderful editor, Laura McCallen, whose insight and encouragement help me make my books the best they can be. Thank you, Laura!


Contents

COVER (#ue1f1484b-c241-593c-8ca8-343803ee47e2)

INTRODUCTION (#u2900bc30-61e6-548e-857c-c00a2ef412e7)

TITLE PAGE (#u844dedae-412d-51e1-8b24-908b9326ed2c)

ABOUT THE AUTHOR (#u87f6788b-7400-5a54-8b07-c7b5845f67bc)

DEDICATION (#u9f9533df-e0e6-5bbc-b507-ee5f5b1ca41c)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)

COPYRIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)


CHAPTER ONE (#u24efe9f9-d3d3-51b7-949b-05b771a03495)

ELIZA DUNNE FELT she had fallen into a fairytale as Jake Marlowe waltzed her around the vast, glittering ballroom of a medieval European castle. Hundreds of other guests whirled around them to the elegant strains of a chamber orchestra. The chatter rising and falling over the music was in a mix of languages from all around the world. Light from massive crystal chandeliers picked up the gleam of a king’s ransom in jewellery and the sheen of silk in every colour of the rainbow.

Eliza didn’t own any expensive jewellery. But she felt she held her own in a glamorous midnight-blue retro-style gown with a beaded bodice, nipped-in waist and full skirt, her dark hair twisted up with diamante combs, sparkling stilettos on her feet. Jake was in a tuxedo that spoke of the finest Italian tailoring.

The excitement that bubbled through her like the bubbles from expensive champagne was not from her fairytale surroundings but from her proximity to Jake. Tall, imposing, and even more handsome than the Prince whose wedding they had just witnessed, he was a man who had intrigued her from the moment she’d first met him.

Their dance was as intimate as a kiss. Eliza was intensely aware of where her body touched Jake’s—his arm around her waist held her close, her hand rested on his broad shoulder, his cheek felt pleasantly rough against the smoothness of her own. She felt his warmth, breathed in his scent—spicy and fresh and utterly male—with her eyes closed, the better to savour the intoxicating effect it had on her senses. Other couples danced around them but she was scarcely aware of their presence—too lost in the rhythm of her private dance with him.

She’d first met Jake nearly two years ago, at the surprise wedding of her friend and business partner Andie Newman to his friend and business partner Dominic Hunt. They’d been best man and bridesmaid and had made an instant connection in an easy, friends of friends way.

She’d only seen him once since, at a business function, and they’d chatted for half the night. Eliza had relived every moment many times, unable to forget him. He’d been so unsettlingly different. Now they were once more best man and bridesmaid at the wedding of mutual friends.

Her other business partner, Gemma Harper, had just married Tristan, Crown Prince of Montovia. That afternoon she and Jake, as members of the bridal party, had walked slowly down the aisle of a centuries-old cathedral and watched their friends make their vows in a ceremony of almost unimaginable splendour. Now they were celebrating at a lavish reception.

She’d danced a duty dance with Tristan, then with Dominic. Jake had made his impatience obvious, then had immediately claimed her as his dance partner. The room was full of royalty and aristocrats, and Gemma had breathlessly informed her which of the men was single, but Eliza only wanted to dance with Jake. This was the first chance she’d had to spend any real time with the man who had made such a lasting impression on her.

She sighed a happy sigh, scarcely realising she’d done so.

Jake pulled away slightly and looked down at her. Her breath caught in her throat at the slow-to-ignite smile that lit his green eyes as he looked into hers. With his rumpled blond hair, strong jaw and marvellous white teeth he was as handsome as any actor or model—yet he seemed unaware of the scrutiny he got from every woman who danced by them.

‘Having fun?’ he asked.

Even his voice, deep and assured, sent shivers of awareness through her.

‘I don’t know that fun is quite the right word for something so spectacular. I want to rub my eyes to make sure I’m not dreaming.’ She had to raise her voice over the music to be heard.

‘It’s extraordinary, isn’t it? The over-the-top opulence of a royal wedding... It isn’t something an everyday Australian guy usually gets to experience.’

Not quite an everyday guy. Eliza had to bite down on the words. At thirty-two, Jake headed his own technology solutions company and had become a billionaire while he was still in his twenties. He could probably fund an event like this with barely a blip in his bank balance. But on the two previous occasions when she’d met him, for all his wealth and brilliance and striking good looks, he had presented as notably unpretentious.

‘I grew up on a sheep ranch, way out in the west of New South Wales,’ she said. ‘Weddings were more often than not celebrated with a barn dance. This is the stuff of fairytales for a country girl. I’ve only ever seen rooms like this in a museum.’

‘You seem like a sophisticated city girl to me. Boss of the best party-planning business in Sydney.’ Jake’s green eyes narrowed as he searched her face. ‘The loveliest of the Party Queens.’ His voice deepened in tone.

‘Thank you,’ she said, preening a little at his praise, fighting a blush because he’d called her lovely. ‘I’m not the boss, though. Andie, Gemma and I are equal partners in Party Queens.’

Eliza was Business Director, Andie looked after design and Gemma the food.

‘The other two are savvy, but you’re the business brains,’ he said. ‘There can be no doubt about that.’

‘I guess I am,’ she said.

She was not being boastful in believing that the success of Party Queens owed a lot to her sound financial management. The business was everything to her and she’d given her life to it since it had launched three years ago.

‘Tristan told me Gemma organised the wedding herself,’ Jake said. ‘With some long-distance help from you and Andie.’

‘True,’ said Eliza.

Jake—the ‘everyday Aussie guy’—was good friends with the Prince. They’d met, he’d told her, on the Montovian ski-fields years ago.

‘Apparently the courtiers were aghast at her audacity in breaking with tradition.’

‘Yet look how brilliantly it turned out—another success for Party Queens. My friend the Crown Princess.’ Eliza shook her head in proud wonderment. ‘One day she’ll be a real queen. But for Gemma it isn’t about the royal trappings, you know. It’s all about being with Tristan—she’s so happy, so in love.’

Eliza couldn’t help the wistful note that crept into her voice. That kind of happiness wasn’t for her. Of course she’d started out wanting the happy-ever-after love her friends had found. But it had proved elusive. So heartbreakingly elusive that, at twenty-nine, she had given up on hoping it would ever happen. She had a broken marriage behind her, and nothing but dating disasters since her divorce. No way would she get married again. She would not risk being trapped with a domineering male like her ex-husband, like her father. Being single was a state that suited her, even if she did get lonely sometimes.

‘Tristan is happy too,’ said Jake. ‘He credits me for introducing him to his bride.’

Jake had recommended Party Queens to his friend the Crown Prince when Tristan had had to organise an official function in Sydney. Tristan had been incognito when Gemma had met him and they’d fallen in love. The resulting publicity had been off the charts for Party Queens, and Eliza would always be grateful to Jake for putting the job their way.

Jake looked down into her face. ‘But you’re worried about what Gemma’s new status means for your business, aren’t you?’

‘How did you know that?’ she asked, a frown pleating her forehead.

‘One business person gets to read the signs in another,’ he said. ‘It was the way you frowned when I mentioned Gemma’s name.’

‘I didn’t think I was so transparent,’ she said, and realised she’d frowned again. ‘Yes, I admit I am concerned. Gemma wants to stay involved with the business, but I don’t know how that can work with her fifteen thousand kilometres away from our headquarters.’ She looked around her. ‘She’s moved into a different world and has a whole set of new royal duties to master.’

Eliza knew it would be up to her to solve the problem. Andie and Gemma were the creatives; she was the worrier, the plotter, the planner. The other two teased her that she was a control freak, let her know when she got too bossy, but the three Party Queens complemented each other perfectly.

Jake’s arm tightened around her waist. ‘Don’t let your concern ruin the evening for you. I certainly don’t want to let it ruin mine.’

His voice was deep and strong and sent a thrill of awareness coursing through her.

‘You’re right. I just want to enjoy every moment of this,’ she said.

Every moment with him. She closed her eyes in bliss when he tightened his arms around her as they danced. He was the type of man she had never dreamed existed.

The Strauss waltz came to an end. ‘More champagne?’ Jake asked. ‘We could drink it out on the terrace.’

‘Excellent idea,’ she said, her heart pounding a little harder at the prospect of being alone with him.

The enclosed terrace ran the length of the ballroom, with vast arched windows looking out on the view across the lit-up castle gardens to the lake, where a huge pale moon rode high in the sky. Beyond the lake were snow-capped mountains, only a ghostly hint of their peaks to be seen under the dim light from the moon.

There was a distinct October chill to the Montovian air. It seemed quite natural for Jake to put his arm around her as Eliza gazed out at the view. She welcomed his warmth, still hyper-aware of his touch as she leaned close to his hard strength. There must be a lot of honed muscle beneath that tuxedo.

‘This place hardly seems real,’ she said, keeping her voice low in a kind of reverence.

‘Awesome in the true sense of the word,’ he said.

Eliza sipped slowly from the flute of champagne. Wine was somewhat of a hobby for her, and she knew this particular vintage was the most expensive on the planet, its cost per bubble astronomical. She had consulted with Gemma on the wedding wine list. But she was too entranced with Jake to be really aware of what she was drinking. It might have been lemon soda for all the attention she paid it.

He took the glass from her hand and placed it on an antique table nearby. Then he slid her around so she faced him. He was tall—six foot four, she guessed—and she was glad she was wearing stratospheric heels. She didn’t like to feel at a disadvantage with a man—even this man.

‘I’ve waited all day for us to be alone,’ he said.

‘Me too,’ she said, forcing the tremor out of her voice.

How alone? She had a luxurious guest apartment in the castle all to herself, where they could truly be by themselves. No doubt Jake had one the same.

He looked into her face for a long moment, so close she could feel his breath stir her hair. His eyes seemed to go a deeper shade of green. He was going to kiss her. She found her lips parting in anticipation of his touch as she swayed towards him. There was nothing she wanted more at this moment than to be kissed by Jake Marlowe.

Yet she hesitated. Whether she called it the elephant in the room, or the poisoned apple waiting to be offered as in the fairytale, there was something they had not talked about all day in the rare moments when they had been alone. Something that had to be said.

With a huge effort of will she stepped back, folded her arms in front of her chest, took a deep breath. ‘Jake, has anything changed since we last spoke at Tristan’s party in Sydney? Is your divorce through?’

He didn’t immediately reply, and her heart sank to the level of her sparkling shoes. ‘Yes, to your first question. Divorce proceedings are well under way. But to answer your second question: it’s not final yet. I’m still waiting on the decree nisi, let alone the decree absolute.’

‘Oh.’ It was all she could manage as disappointment speared through her. ‘I thought—’

‘You thought I’d be free by now?’ he said gruffly.

She chewed her lip and nodded. There was so much neither of them dared say. Undercurrents pulled them in the direction of possibilities best left unspoken. Such as what might happen between them if he wasn’t still legally married...

It was his turn to frown. ‘So did I. But it didn’t work out like that. The legalities... The property settlements...’

‘Of course,’ she said.

So when will you be free? She swallowed the words before she could give impatient voice to them.

He set his jaw. ‘I’m frustrated about it, but it’s complex.’

Millions of dollars and a life together to be dismantled. Eliza knew all about the legal logistics of that, but on a much smaller scale. There were joint assets to be divided. Then there were emotions, all twisted and tangled throughout a marriage of any duration, that had to be untangled—and sometimes torn. Wounds. Scars. All intensely personal. She didn’t feel she could ask him any more.

During their first meeting Jake had told her his wife of seven years wanted a divorce but he didn’t. At their second meeting he’d said the divorce was underway. Eliza had sensed he was ambivalent about it, so had declined his suggestion that they keep in touch. Her attraction to him was too strong for her ever to pretend she could be ‘just friends’ with him. She’d want every chance to act on that attraction.

But she would not date a married man. She wouldn’t kiss a married man. Even when he was nearly divorced. Even when he was Jake Marlowe. No way did she want to be caught up in any media speculation about being ‘the other woman’ in his divorce. And then there was the fact that her ex had cheated on her towards the end of their marriage. She didn’t know Jake’s wife. But she wouldn’t want to cause her the same kind of pain.

Suffocating with disappointment, Eliza stepped back from him. She didn’t have expectations of any kind of relationship with him—just wanted a chance to explore the surprising connection between them. Starting with a kiss. Then...? Who knew?

She cleared her throat. ‘I wish—’ she started to say.

But then an alarm started beeping, shrill and intrusive. Startled, she jumped.

Jake glanced down at his watch, swore under his breath. ‘Midnight,’ he said. ‘I usually call Australia now, for a business catch-up.’ He switched off the alarm. ‘But not tonight.’

It seemed suddenly very quiet on the terrace, with only faint strains of music coming from the ballroom, distant laughter from a couple at the other end of the terrace. Eliza was aware of her own breathing and the frantic pounding of her heart.

‘No. Make your call. It’s late. I have to go.’

She doubted he’d guessed the intensity of her disappointment, how much she’d had pinned on this meeting—and she didn’t want him to see it on her face. She turned, picked up her long, full skirts and prepared to run.

Then Jake took hold of her arm and pulled her back to face him. ‘Don’t go, Eliza. Please.’

* * *

Jake watched as Eliza struggled to contain her disappointment. She seemed to pride herself on having a poker face. But her feelings were only too apparent to him. And her disappointment had nothing on his.

‘But I have to go,’ she said as she tried to pull away from him. ‘You’re still married. We can’t—’

‘Act on the attraction that’s been there since the get go?’

Mutely, she nodded.

Their first meeting had been electric—an instant something between them. For him it had been a revelation. A possibility of something new and exciting beyond the dead marriage he had been struggling to revive. Eliza had been so beautiful, so smart, so interesting—yet so unattainable. The second time they’d met he’d realised the attraction was mutual. And tonight he’d sensed in her the same longing for more that he felt.

But it was still not their time to explore it. She’d made it very clear the last time they’d met that she could not be friends with a married man—and certainly not more than friends. He’d respected her stance. As a wealthy man he’d met more than a few women with dollar signs flashing in their eyes who had held no regard for a man’s wedding vows—or indeed their own.

When Tristan had asked him to be best man at his wedding he’d said yes straight away. The bonus had been a chance to see Eliza again. In her modest lavender dress she’d been the loveliest of the bridesmaids, eclipsing—at least in his admittedly biased eyes—even the bride. Tonight, in a formal gown that showed off her tiny waist and feminine curves, she rivalled any of the royalty in the ballroom.

‘This is not what I’d hoped for this evening,’ he said.

‘Me neither.’ Her voice was barely louder than a whisper as she looked up to him.

He caught his breath at how beautiful she was. Her eyes were a brilliant blue that had him struggling to describe them—like sapphires was the closest he could come. They were framed by brows and lashes as black as her hair, in striking contrast to her creamy skin. Irish colouring, he suspected. He knew nothing about her heritage, very little about her.

Jake thirsted to know more.

He—a man who had thought he could never be interested in another woman. Who had truly thought he had married for life. He’d been so set on hanging on to his marriage to a woman who didn’t want to be married any more—who had long outgrown him and he her—that he hadn’t let himself think of any other. Until he’d met Eliza. And seen hope for the future.

He cursed the fact that the divorce process was taking so long. At first he’d delayed it because he’d hoped he could work things out with his soon-to-be ex-wife. Even though she’d had become virtually a stranger to him. Then he’d discovered how she’d betrayed him. Now he was impatient to have it settled, all ties severed.

‘A few months and I’ll be free. It’s so close, Eliza. In fact it’s debatable that I’m not single again already. It’s just a matter of a document. Couldn’t we—?’

He could see her internal debate, the emotions flitting across her face. Was pleased to see that anticipation was one of them. But he was not surprised when she shook her head.

‘No,’ she said, in a voice that wasn’t quite steady. ‘Not until you’re legally free. Not until we can see each other with total honesty.’

How could he fault her argument? He admired her integrity. Although he groaned his frustration. Not with her, but with the situation.

He pulled her close in a hug. It was difficult not to turn it into something more, not to tilt her face up to his and kiss her. A campaign of sensual kisses and subtle caresses might change her mind—he suspected she wanted him as much as he wanted her. But she was right. He wasn’t ready—in more ways than one.

‘As soon as the divorce is through I’ll get in touch, come see you in Sydney.’ He lived in Brisbane, the capital city of Queensland, about an hour’s flight north.

Scarcely realising he was doing so, he stroked the smooth skin of her bare shoulders, her exposed back. It was a gesture more of reassurance than anything overtly sexual. He couldn’t let himself think about Eliza and sex. Not now. Not yet. Or he’d go crazy.

Her head was nestled against his shoulder and he felt her nod. ‘I’d like that,’ she said, her voice muffled.

He held her close for a long, silent moment. Filled his senses with her sweet floral scent, her warmth. Wished he didn’t have to let her go. Then she pulled away. Looked up at him. Her cheeks were flushed pink, which intensified the blue of her eyes.

‘I’ve been in Montovia for a week. I fly out to Sydney tomorrow morning. I won’t see you again,’ she said.

‘I have meetings in Zurich,’ he said. ‘I’ll be gone very early.’

‘So...so this is goodbye,’ she said.

He put his fingers to the soft lushness of her mouth. ‘Until next time,’ he said.

For a long moment she looked up at him, searching his face with those remarkable eyes. Then she nodded. ‘Until next time.’

Without another word Eliza turned away from him and walked away down the long enclosed terrace that ran along the outside of the ballroom. She did not turn back.

Jake watched her. Her back was held erect, the full skirts of her deep blue dress with its elaborately beaded bodice nipped into her tiny waist swishing around her at each step. He watched her until she turned to the right through an archway. Still she didn’t look back, although he had his hand ready to wave farewell to her. Then she disappeared out of sight.

She left behind her just the lingering trace of her scent. He breathed it in to capture its essence. Took a step to go after her, then halted himself. He had no right to call her back a second time. He groaned and slammed his hand against the ancient stone wall.

For a long time he looked out through the window to the still lake beyond. Then he looked back to the ballroom. Without Eliza to dance with there was no point in returning. Besides, he felt like an impostor among the glittering throng. His role as best man, as friend to the Prince, gave him an entrée to their world. His multi-million-dollar houses and string of prestige European cars made him look the part.

Would they welcome him so readily into their elite company if they knew the truth about his past? Would Eliza find him so appealing if she knew his secrets?

He took out his phone and made his business call, in desperate need of distraction.


CHAPTER TWO (#u24efe9f9-d3d3-51b7-949b-05b771a03495)

Six months later

ELIZA NOTICED JAKE MARLOWE the instant he strode into the business class lounge at Sydney’s Kingsford Smith Airport. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a surfer’s blond hair and tan, his good looks alone would attract attention. The fact that he was a billionaire whose handsome face was often in the media guaranteed it. Heads turned discreetly as he made his way with his easy, athletic stride towards the coffee station.

He was half a room away from her, but awareness tingled down Eliza’s spine. A flush of humiliation warmed her cheeks. She hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the wedding in Montovia, despite his promise to get in touch when his divorce was through. And here he was—on his way out of Sydney.

Jake had been in her hometown for heaven knew how long and hadn’t cared to get in touch. She thought of a few choice names for him but wouldn’t let herself mutter them, even under her breath. Losing her dignity over him was not worth it.

Over the last months she’d gone past disappointed, through angry, to just plain embarrassed that she’d believed him. That she’d allowed herself to spin hopes and dreams around seeing him again—finally being able to act on that flare of attraction between them. An attraction that, despite her best efforts to talk herself out of it, had flamed right back to life at the sight of him. She’d failed dismally in her efforts to extinguish it. He looked just as good in faded jeans and black T-shirt as he looked in a tuxedo. Better, perhaps. Every hot hunk sensor in her body alerted her to that.

But good looks weren’t everything. She’d kidded herself that Jake was something he wasn’t. Sure, they’d shared some interesting conversations, come close to a kiss. But when it boiled down to it, it appeared he was a slick tycoon who’d known how to spin the words he’d thought would please her. And she’d been sucker enough to fall for it. Had there been anything genuine about him?

Jake had put her through agony by not getting in touch when he’d said he would. She never wanted that kind of emotional turmoil in her life again. Especially not now, when Party Queens was in possible peril. She needed all her wits about her to ensure the future of the company that had become her life.

Perhaps back then she’d been convenient for Jake—the bridesmaid paired with the best man. An instant temporary couple. Now he was single and oh-so-eligible he must have women flinging themselves at him from all sides. Even now, as she sneaked surreptitious glances at him, a well-dressed woman edged up close to him, smiling up into his face.

Jake laughed at something she said. Eliza’s senses jolted into hyper mode. He looked so handsome when he laughed. Heck, he looked so handsome whatever he did.

Darn her pesky libido. Her brain could analyse exactly what she didn’t want in a man, but then her body argued an opposing message. She’d let her libido take over at Gemma’s wedding, when she’d danced with Jake and let herself indulge in a fantasy that there could be something between them one day. But she prided herself on her self-control. Eliza allowed herself a moment to let her eyes feast on him, in the same way she would a mouthwatering treat she craved but was forbidden to have. Then she ducked her head and hid behind the pale pink pages of her favourite financial newspaper.

Perhaps she hadn’t ducked fast enough—perhaps she hadn’t masked the hunger in her gaze as successfully as she’d thought. Or perhaps Jake had noticed her when he came in as readily as she had noticed him.

Just moments later she was aware of him standing in front of her, legs braced in a way that suggested he wasn’t going anywhere. Her heart started to thud at a million miles an hour. As she lowered the newspaper and looked up at him she feigned surprise. But the expression in his green eyes told her she hadn’t fooled him one little bit.

She gathered all her resolve to school her face into a mask of polite indifference. He could not know how much he’d hurt her. Not hurt. That gave him too much power. Offended. His divorce had been splashed all over the media for the last three months. Yet there’d been no phone call from him. What a fool she’d been to have expected one. She’d obviously read way too much into that memorable ‘next time’ farewell.

Eliza went to get up but he sat down in the vacant seat next to her and angled his body towards her. In doing so he brushed his knee against her thigh, and she tried desperately not to gasp at his touch. Her famed self-control seemed to wobble every which way when she found herself within touching distance of Jake Marlowe.

He rested his hands on his thighs, which brought them too close for comfort. She refused to let herself think about how good they’d felt on her body in that close embrace of their dance. She could not let herself be blinded by physical attraction to the reality of this man.

‘Eliza,’ he said.

‘Jake,’ she said coolly, with a nod of acknowledgment.

She crossed her legs to break contact with his. Made a show of folding her newspaper, its rustle satisfyingly loud in the silence between them.

There was a long, awkward pause. She had no intention of helping him out by being the first one to dive into conversation. Not when he’d treated her with such indifference. Surely the thread of friendship they’d established had entitled her to better.

She could see he was looking for the right words, and at any other time she might have felt sorry for this intelligent, successful man who appeared to be struggling to make conversation. Would have fed him words to make it easier for him. But she knew how articulate Jake could be. How he had charmed her. This sudden shyness must be all part of his game. It seemed he felt stymied at seeing her by accident when he’d so obviously not wanted to see her by intent.

She really should hold her tongue and let him stumble through whatever he had to say. But she knew there wasn’t much time before her flight would be called. And this might be her only chance to call him on the way he had broken his promise.

Of course it hadn’t been a promise as such. But, spellbound by the magic of that royal wedding in Montovia, she had believed every word about there being a ‘next time’, when he was free. She’d never believed in fairytales—but she’d believed in him.

Even though the lounge chairs were spaced for privacy in the business class lounge—not crammed on top of each other like at the airport gate, where she was accustomed to waiting for a flight—she was aware that she and Jake were being observed and might possibly be overheard. She would have to be discreet.

She leaned closer to him and spoke in an undertone. ‘So whatever happened to getting in touch? I see from the media that your divorce is well and truly done and delivered. You’re now considered to be the most eligible bachelor in the country. You must be enjoying that.’

Jake shifted in his seat. Which brought his thigh back in touch with her knee. She pointedly crossed her legs again to break the contact. It was way too distracting.

‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I want to explain.’

Eliza didn’t want to hear his half-hearted apologies. She glanced at her watch. ‘I don’t think so. My flight is about to be called.’

‘So is mine. Where are you headed?’

It would be childish to spit, None of your business, so she refrained. ‘Port Douglas.’

She’d been counting the days until she could get up to the resort in far north-east tropical Queensland. From Sydney she was flying to Cairns, the nearest airport. She needed to relax—to get away from everyday distractions so she could get her head around what she needed to do to ensure Party Queens’ ongoing success.

Jake’s expression, which had bordered on glum, brightened perceptibly. ‘Are you on Flight 321 to Cairns? So am I.’

Eliza felt the colour drain from her face. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Australia was an enormous country. Yet she happened to be flying to the same destination as Jake Marlowe. What kind of cruel coincidence was that?

‘Yes,’ she said through gritted teeth.

Port Douglas was a reasonably sized town. The resort she was booked into was pretty much self-contained. She would make darn sure she didn’t bump into him.

Just then they called the flight. She went to rise from her seat. Jake put his hand on her arm to detain her. She flinched.

He spoke in a fierce undertone. ‘Please, Eliza. I know it was wrong of me not to have got in touch as I said I would. But I had good reason.’

She stared at him, uncertain whether or not to give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed so sincere. But then he’d seemed so sincere at the wedding. Out there on the terrace, in a place and at a time that hardly seemed real any more. As if it had been a fairytale. How could she believe a word he said?

‘A phone call to explain would have sufficed. Even a text.’

‘That wouldn’t have worked. I want you to hear me out.’

There was something about his request that was difficult to resist. She wanted to hear what he had to say. Out of curiosity, if nothing else. Huh! Who was she kidding? How could she not want to hear what he had to say? After six months of wondering why the deafening silence?

She relented. ‘Perhaps we could meet for a coffee in Port Douglas.’ At a café. Not her room. Or his. For just enough time to hear his explanation. Then she could put Jake Marlowe behind her.

‘How are you getting to Port Douglas from Cairns?’ he asked.

‘I booked a shuttle bus from the airport to the resort.’

His eyebrows rose in such disbelief it forced from her a reluctant smile.

‘Yes, a shuttle bus. It’s quite comfortable—and so much cheaper than a taxi for an hour-long trip. That’s how we non-billionaires travel. I’m flying economy class, too.’

When she’d first started studying in Sydney, cut off from any family support because she’d refused to toe her father’s line, she’d had to budget for every cent. It was a habit she’d kept. Why waste money on a business class seat for a flight of less than three hours?

‘Then why...?’ He gestured around him at the exclusive waiting area.

‘I met a friend going through Security. She invited me in here on her guest pass. She went out on an earlier flight.’

‘Lucky for me—otherwise I might have missed you.’

She made a humph kind of sound at that, which drew a half-smile from him.

‘Contrary to what you might think, I’m very glad to see you,’ he said, in that deep, strong voice she found so very appealing.

‘That’s good to hear,’ she said, somewhat mollified. Of course she was glad to see him too—in spite of her better judgement. How could she deny even to herself that her every sense was zinging with awareness of him? She would have to be very careful not to be taken in by him again.

‘Are you going to Port Douglas on business or pleasure?’

‘Pleasure,’ she said, without thinking. Then regretted her response as a flush reddened on her cheeks.

She had fantasised over pleasure with him. When it came to Jake Marlowe it wasn’t so easy to switch off the attraction that had been ignited at their very first meeting. She would have to fight very hard against it.

It had taken some time to get her life to a steady state after her divorce, and she didn’t want it tipping over again. When she’d seen the media reports of Jake’s divorce, but hadn’t heard from him, she’d been flung back to a kind of angst she didn’t welcome. She cringed when she thought about how often she’d checked her phone for a call that had never come. It wasn’t a situation where she might have called him. And she hated not being in control—of her life, her emotions. Never did she want to give a man that kind of power over her.

‘I mean relaxation,’ she added hastily. ‘Yes, relaxation.’

‘Party Queens keeping you busy?’

‘Party Queens always keeps me busy. Too busy right now. That’s why I’m grabbing the chance for a break. I desperately need some time away from the office.’

‘Have you solved the Gemma problem?’

‘No. I need to give it more thought. Gemma will always be a director of Party Queens, for as long as the company exists. It’s just that—’

‘Can passengers Dunne and Marlowe please make their way to Gate Eleven, where their flight is ready for departure?’

The voice boomed over the intercom.

Eliza sat up abruptly, her newspaper falling in a flurry of pages to the floor. Hissed a swearword under her breath. ‘We’ve got to get going. I don’t want to miss that plane.’

‘How about I meet you at the other end and drive you to Port Douglas?’

Eliza hated being late. For anything. Flustered, she hardly heard him. ‘Uh...okay,’ she said, not fully aware of what she might be letting herself in for. ‘Let’s go!’

She grabbed her wheel-on cabin bag—her only luggage—and half-walked, half-ran towards the exit of the lounge.

Jake quickly caught up and led the way to the gate. Eliza had to make a real effort to keep up with his long stride. They made the flight with only seconds to spare. There was no time to say anything else as she breathlessly boarded the plane through the cattle class entrance while Jake headed to the pointy end up front.

* * *

Jake had a suspicion that Eliza might try to avoid him at Cairns airport. As soon as the flight landed he called through to the garage where he kept his car to have it brought round. Having had the advantage of being the first to disembark, he was there at the gate to head Eliza off.

She soon appeared, head down, intent, so didn’t see him as he waited for her. The last time he’d seen her she’d been resplendent in a ballgown. Now she looked just as good, in cut-off skinny pants that showed off her pert rear end and slim legs, topped with a form-fitting jacket. Deep blue again. She must like that colour. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She might travel Economy but she would look right at home in First Class.

For a moment he regretted the decision he’d made to keep her out of his life. Three months wasted in an Eliza-free zone. But the aftermath of his divorce had made him unfit for female company. Unfit for any company, if truth be told.

He’d been thrown so badly by the first big failure of his life that he’d gone completely out of kilter. Drunk too much. Made bad business decisions that had had serious repercussions to his bottom line. Mistakes he’d had to do everything in his power to fix. He had wealth, but it would never be enough to blot out the poverty of his childhood, to assuage the hunger for more that had got him into such trouble. He had buried himself in his work, determined to reverse the wrong turns he’d made. But he hadn’t been able to forget Eliza.

‘Eliza!’ he called now.

She started, looked up, was unable to mask a quick flash of guilt.

‘Jake. Hi.’

Her voice was higher than usual. Just as sweet, but strained. She was not a good liar. He stored that information up for later, as he did in his assessments of clients. He’d learned young that knowledge of people’s weaknesses was a useful tool. Back then it had been for survival. Now it was to give him a competitive advantage and keep him at the top. He could not let himself slide again.

‘I suspected you might try and avoid me, so I decided to head you off at the pass,’ he said.

Eliza frowned unconvincingly. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because you obviously think I’m a jerk for not calling you after the divorce. I’m determined to change your mind.’ He didn’t want to leave things the way they were. Not when thoughts of her had intruded, despite his best efforts to forget her.

‘Oh,’ she said, after a long pause. ‘You could do that over coffee. Not during an hour’s drive to Port Douglas.’

So she’d been mulling over the enforced intimacy of a journey in his car. So had he. But to different effect.

‘How do you know I won’t need an hour with you?’

She shrugged slender shoulders. ‘I guess I don’t. But I’ve booked the shuttle bus. The driver is expecting me.’

‘Call them and cancel.’ He didn’t want to appear too high-handed. But no way was she going to get on that shuttle bus. ‘Come on, Eliza. It will be much more comfortable in my car.’

‘Your rental car?’

‘I have a house in Port Douglas. And a car.’

‘I thought you lived in Brisbane?’

‘I do. The house in Port Douglas is an escape house.’

He took hold of her wheeled bag. ‘Do you need to pick up more luggage?’

She shook her head. ‘This is all I have. A few bikinis and sundresses is all I need for four days.’

Jake forced himself not to think how Eliza would look in a bikini. She was wearing flat shoes and he realised how petite she was. Petite, slim, but with curves in all the right places. She would look sensational in a bikini.

‘My car is out front. Let’s go.’

Still she hesitated. ‘So you’ll drop me at my resort hotel?’

Did she think he was about to abduct her? It wasn’t such a bad idea, if that was what it took to get her to listen to him. ‘Your private driver—at your service,’ he said with a mock bow.

She smiled that curving smile he found so delightful. The combination of astute businesswoman and quick-to-laughter Party Queen was part of her appeal.

‘Okay, I accept the offer,’ she said.

The warm midday air hit him as they left the air-conditioning of the terminal. Eliza shrugged off her jacket to reveal a simple white top that emphasised the curves of her breasts. She stretched out her slim, toned arms in a movement he found incredibly sensual, as if she were welcoming the sun to her in an embrace.

‘Nice and hot,’ she said with a sigh of pleasure. ‘Just what I want. Four days of relaxing and swimming and eating great food.’

‘April is a good time of year here,’ he said. ‘Less chance of cyclone and perfect conditions for diving on the Great Barrier Reef.’

The garage attendant had brought Jake’s new-model four-by-four to the front of the airport. It was a luxury to keep a car for infrequent use. Just as it was to keep a house up here that was rarely used. But he liked being able to come and go whenever he wanted. It had been his bolthole through the unhappiest times of his marriage.

‘Nice car,’ Eliza said.

Jake remembered they’d talked about cars at their first meeting. He’d been impressed by how knowledgeable she was. Face it—he’d been impressed by her. Period. No wonder she’d been such a difficult woman to forget.

He put her bag into the back, went to help her up into the passenger’s seat, but she had already swung herself effortlessly up. He noticed the sleek muscles in her arms and legs. Exercise was a non-negotiable part of her day, he suspected. Everything about her spoke of discipline and control. He wondered how it would be to see her come to pieces with pleasure in his arms.

Jake settled himself into the driver’s seat. ‘Have you been to Port Douglas before?’ he asked.

‘Yes, but not for some time,’ she said. ‘I loved it and always wanted to come back. But there’s been no time for vacations. As you know, Party Queens took off quickly. It’s an intense, people-driven business. I can’t be away from it for long. But I need to free my head to think about how we can make it work with Gemma not on the ground.’

Can’t or didn’t want to be away from her job? Jake had recognised a fellow workaholic when he’d first met her.

‘So you’re familiar with the drive from Cairns to Port Douglas?’

With rainforest on one side and the sea on the other, it was considered one of the most scenic drives in Australia.

‘I planned the timing of my flight to make sure I saw it in daylight.’

‘I get the feeling very little is left to chance with you, Eliza.’

‘You’ve got it,’ she said with a click of her fingers. ‘I plan, schedule, timetable and organise my life to the minute.’

She was the total opposite of his ex-wife. In looks, in personality, in attitude. The two women could not be more different.

‘You don’t like surprises?’ he asked.

‘Surprises have a habit of derailing one’s life.’

She stilled, almost imperceptibly, and there was a slight hitch to her voice that made him wonder about the kind of surprises that had hit her.

‘I like things to be on track. For me to be at the wheel.’

‘So by hijacking you I’ve ruined your plans for today?’

His unwilling passenger shrugged slender shoulders.

‘Just a deviation. I’m still heading for my resort. It will take the same amount of time. Just a different mode of transportation.’ She turned her head to face him. ‘Besides. I’m on vacation. From schedules and routine as much as from anything else.’

Eliza reached back and undid the tie from her ponytail, shook out her hair so it fell in a silky mass to her shoulders. With her hair down she looked even lovelier. Younger than her twenty-nine years. More relaxed. He’d like to run his hands through that hair, bunch it back from her face to kiss her. Instead he tightened his hands on the steering wheel as she settled back in her seat.

‘When you’re ready to tell me why I had to read about your divorce in the gossip columns rather than hear it from you,’ she said, ‘I’m all ears.’


CHAPTER THREE (#u24efe9f9-d3d3-51b7-949b-05b771a03495)

JAKE WAS VERY good at speaking the language of computers and coding. At talking the talk when it came to commercial success. While still at university he had come up with a concept for ground-breaking software tools to streamline the digital workflow of large businesses. His friend Dominic Hunt had backed him. The resulting success had made a great deal of money for both young men. And Jake had continued on a winning streak that had made him a billionaire.

But for all his formidable skills Jake wasn’t great at talking about emotions. At admitting that he had fears and doubts. Or conceding to any kind of failure. It was one of the reasons he’d got into such trouble when he was younger. Why he’d fallen apart after the divorce. No matter how much he worked on it, he still considered it a character flaw.

He hoped he’d be able to make a good fist of explaining to Eliza why he hadn’t got in touch until now.

He put the four-by-four into gear and headed for the Captain Cook Highway to Port Douglas. Why they called it a highway, he’d never know—it was a narrow two-lane road in most places. To the left was dense vegetation, right back to the distant hills. To the right was the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, its turquoise sea bounded by narrow, deserted beaches, broken by small islands. In places the road ran almost next to the sand. He’d driven along this road many times, but never failed to be impressed by the grandeur of the view.

He didn’t look at Eliza but kept his eyes on the road. ‘I’ll cut straight to it,’ he said. ‘I want to apologise for not getting in touch when I said I would. I owe you an explanation.’

‘Fire away,’ Eliza said.

Her voice was cool. The implication? This had better be good.

He swallowed hard. ‘The divorce eventually came through three months ago.’

‘I heard. Congratulations.’

He couldn’t keep the cynical note from his voice. ‘You congratulate me. Lots of people congratulated me. A divorce party was even suggested. To celebrate my freedom from the ball and chain.’

‘Party Queens has organised a few divorce parties. They’re quite a thing these days.’

‘Not my thing,’ he said vehemently. ‘I didn’t want congratulations. Or parties to celebrate what I saw as a failure. The end of something that didn’t work.’

‘Was that because you were still...still in love with your wife?’

A quick glance showed Eliza had a tight grip on the red handbag she held on her lap. He hated talking about stuff like this. Even after all he’d worked on in the last months.

‘No. There hadn’t been any love there for a long time. It ended with no anger or animosity. Just indifference. Which was almost worse.’

He’d met his ex when they were both teenagers. They’d dated on and off over the early years. Marriage had felt inevitable. He’d changed a lot; she hadn’t wanted change. Then she’d betrayed him. He’d loved her. It had hurt.

‘That must have been traumatic in its own way.’ Eliza’s reply sounded studiously neutral.

‘More traumatic than I could have imagined. The process dragged on for too long.’

‘It must have been a relief when it was all settled.’

Again he read the subtext to her sentence: All settled, but you didn’t call me. It hinted at a hurt she couldn’t mask. Hurt caused by him. He had to make amends.

‘I didn’t feel relief. I felt like I’d been turned upside down and wasn’t sure where I’d landed. Couldn’t find my feet. My ex and I had been together off and on for years, married for seven. Then I was on my own. It wasn’t just her I’d lost. It was a way of life.’

‘I understand that,’ she said.

The shadow that passed across her face hinted at unspoken pain. She’d gone through divorce too. Though she hadn’t talked much about it on the previous occasions when they had met.

He dragged in a deep breath. Spit it out. Get this over and done with. ‘It took a few wipe-out weeks at work for me to realise going out and drinking wasn’t the way to deal with it.’

‘It usually isn’t,’ she said.

He was a guy. A tough, successful guy. To him, being unable to cope with loss was a sign of weakness. Weakness he wasn’t genetically programmed to admit to. But the way he’d fallen to pieces had lost him money. That couldn’t be allowed to happen again.

‘Surely you had counselling?’ she said. ‘I did after my divorce. It helped.’

‘Guys like me don’t do counselling.’

‘You bottle it all up inside you instead?’

‘Something like that.’

‘That’s not healthy—it festers,’ she said. ‘Not that it’s any of my business.’

The definitive turning point in his life had not been his divorce. That had come much earlier, when he’d been aged fifteen, angry and rebellious. He’d been forced to face up to the way his life was going, the choices he would have to make. To take one path or another.

Jake didn’t know how much Eliza knew about Dominic’s charity—The Underground Help Centre in Brisbane for homeless young people—or Jake’s involvement in it. A social worker with whom both Dominic and Jake had crossed paths headed the charity. Jim Hill had helped Jake at a time when he’d most needed it. He had become a friend. Without poking or prying, he had noticed Jake’s unexpected devastation after his marriage break-up, and pointed him in the right direction for confidential help.

‘Someone told me about a support group for divorced guys,’ Jake said, with a quick, sideways glance to Eliza and in a tone that did not invite further questions.

‘That’s good,’ she said with an affirmative nod.

He appreciated that she didn’t push it. He still choked at the thought he’d had to seek help.

The support group had been exclusive, secret, limited to a small number of elite men rich enough to pay the stratospheric fees. Men who wanted to protect their wealth in the event of remarriage, who needed strategies to avoid the pitfalls of dating after divorce. Jake had wanted to know how to barricade his heart as well as his bank balance.

The men and the counsellors had gone into lockdown for a weekend at a luxury retreat deep in the rainforest. It had been on a first-name-only basis, but Jake had immediately recognised some of the high-profile men. No doubt they had recognised him too. But they had proved to be discreet.

‘Men don’t seem to seek help as readily as women,’ Eliza said.

‘It was about dealing with change more than anything,’ he said.

‘Was that why you didn’t get in touch?’ she said, with an edge to her voice. ‘You changed your mind?’

Jake looked straight ahead at the road. ‘I wasn’t ready for another relationship. I needed to learn to live alone. That meant no dating. In particular not dating you.’

Her gasp told him how much he’d shocked her.

‘Me? Why?’

‘From the first time we met you sparked something that told me there could be life after divorce. I could see myself getting serious about you. I don’t want serious. But I couldn’t get you out of my head. I had to see you again.’

To be sure she was real and not some fantasy that had built up in his mind.

* * *

Eliza didn’t even notice the awesome view of the ocean that stretched as far as the eye could see. Or the sign indicating the turn-off to a crocodile farm that would normally make her shudder. All she was aware of was Jake. She stared at him.

‘Serious? But we hardly knew each other. Did you think I had my life on hold until you were free so I could bolt straight into a full-on relationship?’

Jake took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at her. ‘Come on, Eliza. There was something there between us. Something more than a surface attraction. Something we both wanted to act on.’

‘Maybe,’ she said.

Of course there had been something there. But she wasn’t sure she wanted to admit to it. Not when she’d spent all that time trying to suppress it. Not when it had the potential to hurt her. Those three months of seeing his divorce splashed over the media, of speculation on who might hook up with the billionaire bachelor had hurt. He had said he’d get in touch. Then he hadn’t. How could she trust his word again? She couldn’t afford to be distracted from Party Queens by heartbreak at such a crucial time in the growth of her business.

The set of his jaw made him seem very serious. ‘I didn’t want to waste your time when I had nothing to offer you. But ultimately I had to see you.’

‘Six months later? Maybe you should have let me be the one to decide whether I wanted to waste my time or not?’ She willed any hint of a wobble from her voice.

‘I needed that time on my own. Possibly it was a mistake not to communicate that with you. I was married a long time. Now I’m single again at thirty-two. I haven’t had a lot of practice at this.’

Eliza stared in disbelief at the gorgeous man beside her in the driver’s seat. At his handsome profile with the slightly crooked nose and strong jaw. His shoulders so broad they took up more than his share of the car. His tanned arms, strong and muscular, dusted with hair that glinted gold in the sunlight coming through the window of the car. His hands— Best she did not think about those hands and how they’d felt on her bare skin back in magical Montovia.

‘I find that difficult to buy,’ she said. ‘You’re a really good-looking guy. There must be women stampeding to date you.’

He shrugged dismissively. ‘All that eligible billionaire stuff the media likes to bang on about brings a certain level of attention. Even before the divorce was through I had women hounding me with dollar signs blazing in their eyes.’

‘I guess that kind of attention comes with the territory. But surely not everyone would be a gold-digger. You must have dated some genuine women.’

She hated the thought of him with another woman. Not his ex-wife. That had been long before she’d met him. But Eliza had no claim on him—no right to be jealous. For all his fine talk about how he hadn’t been able to forget her, the fact remained she was only here with him by accident.

Jake slowly shook his head. ‘I haven’t dated anyone since the divorce.’ He paused for a long moment, the silence only broken by the swish of the tyres on the road, the air blowing from the air-conditioning unit. Jake gave her another quick, sideward glance. ‘Don’t you get it, Eliza? There’s only one woman who interests me. And she’s sitting here, right beside me.’

Eliza suddenly understood the old expression about having all the wind blown out of her sails. A stunned, ‘Oh...’ was all she could manage through her suddenly accelerated breath.

Jake looked straight ahead as he spoke, as if he was finding the words difficult to get out. ‘The support group covered dating after divorce. It suggested six months before starting to date. Three months was long enough. The urge to see you again became overwhelming. I didn’t get where I am in the world by following the rules. All that dating-after-divorce advice flew out the window.’

Eliza frowned. ‘How can you say that? You left our seeing each other again purely to chance. If we hadn’t met at the airport—’

‘I didn’t leave anything to chance. After six months of radio silence I doubted you’d welcome a call from me. Any communication needed to be face to face. I flew down to Sydney to see you. Then met with Dominic to suss out how the land lay.’

‘You what? Andie didn’t say anything to me.’

‘Because I asked Dominic not to tell her. He found out you were flying to Port Douglas this morning. I couldn’t believe you were heading for a town where I had a house. Straight away I booked onto the same flight.’

Eliza took a few moments to absorb this revelation. ‘That was very cloak and dagger. What would have happened if you hadn’t found me at the airport?’

He shrugged those broad shoulders. ‘I would have abducted you.’ At her gasp he added, ‘Just kidding. But I would have found a way for us to reconnect in Port Douglas. Even if I’d had to call every resort and hotel I would have tracked you down. I just had to see you, Eliza. To see if that attraction I’d felt was real.’

‘I...I don’t know what to say. Except I’m flattered.’

There was a long beat before he spoke. ‘And pleased?’

The tinge of uncertainty to his voice surprised her.

‘Very pleased.’

In fact her heart was doing cartwheels of exultation. She was so dizzy that the warning from her brain was having trouble getting through. Jake tracking her down sounded very romantic. So did his talk of abduction. But she’d learned to be wary of the type of man who would ride roughshod over her wishes and needs. Like her domineering father. Like her controlling ex. She didn’t know Jake very well. It must take a certain kind of ruthlessness to become a billionaire. She couldn’t let her guard down.

‘So, about that coffee we talked about...?’ he said. ‘Do you want to make it lunch?’

‘Are you asking me on a date, Jake?’ Her tone was deliberately flirtatious.

His reply was very serious. ‘I realise I’ve surprised you with this. But be assured I’ve released the baggage of my marriage. I’ve accepted my authentic self. And if you—’

She couldn’t help a smile. ‘You sound like you’ve swallowed the “dating after divorce” handbook.’

His brows rose. ‘I told you I was out of practice. What else should I say?’

Eliza started to laugh. ‘This is getting a little crazy. Pull over, will you, please?’ she said. She indicated a layby ahead with a wave of her hand.

Jake did so with a sudden swerve and squealing of tyres that had her clutching onto the dashboard of the car. He skidded to a halt under the shade of some palm trees.

Still laughing, Eliza unbuckled her seatbelt and turned to face him. ‘Can I give you a dating after divorce tip? Don’t worry so much about whether it’s going to lead to something serious before you’ve even gone on a first date.’

‘Was that what I did?’

She found his frown endearing. How could a guy who was one of the most successful entrepreneurs in the country be having this kind of trouble?

‘You’re over-thinking all this,’ she said. ‘So am I. We’re making it so much harder than it should be. In truth, it’s simple. There’s an attraction here. You’re divorced. I’m divorced. We don’t answer to anyone except ourselves. There’s nothing to stop us enjoying each other’s company in any way we want to.’

He grinned in that lazy way she found so attractive. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Shall we agree not to worry about tomorrow when we haven’t even had a today yet?’

Eliza had been going to add not even a morning. But that conjured up an image of waking up next to Jake, in a twist of tangled sheets. Better not think about mornings. Or nights.

Jake’s grin widened. ‘You’ve got four days of vacation. I’ve got nothing to do except decide whether or not to offload my house in Port Douglas.’

‘No expectations. No promises. No apologies.’

‘Agreed,’ he said. He held out his hand to shake and seal the deal.

She edged closer to him. ‘Forget the handshake. Why don’t we start with a kiss?’


CHAPTER FOUR (#u24efe9f9-d3d3-51b7-949b-05b771a03495)

JAKE KNEW THERE was a dating after divorce guideline regarding the first physical encounter, but he’d be damned if he could think about that right now. Any thoughts other than of Eliza had been blown away in a blaze of anticipation and excitement at the invitation in her eyes—a heady mix of sensuality, impatience and mischief.

It seemed she had forgiven him for his broken promise. He had a second chance with her. It was so much more than he could have hoped for—or probably deserved after his neglect.

He hadn’t told her the whole truth about why he hadn’t been in touch. It was true he hadn’t been able to forget her, had felt compelled to see her again. He was a man who liked to be in the company of one special woman and he’d hungered for her. But not necessarily to commit to anything serious. Not now. Maybe not ever again. Not with her. Not with any woman. However it seemed she wasn’t looking for anything serious either. Four days without strings? That sounded like a great idea.

She slid a little closer to him from her side of the car. Reached down and unbuckled his seat belt with a low, sweet laugh that sent his awareness levels soaring. When her fingers inadvertently trailed over his thigh he shuddered and pulled her kissing distance close.

He focused with intense anticipation on her sweet mouth. Her lips were beautifully defined, yet lush and soft and welcoming. She tilted her face to him, making her impatience obvious. Jake needed no urging. He pressed his mouth against hers in a tender kiss, claiming her at last. She tasted of salt—peanuts on the plane, perhaps?—and something sweet. Chocolate? Sweet and sharp at the same time. Like Eliza herself—an intriguing combination.

She was beautiful, but his attraction had never been just to her looks. He liked her independence, her intelligence, her laughter.

The kiss felt both familiar and very different. Within seconds it was as if her kiss was all he’d ever known. Her lips parted under his as she gave a soft sigh of contentment.

‘At last,’ she murmured against his mouth.

Kissing Eliza for the first time in the front seat of a four-by-four was hardly ideal. Jake had forgotten how awkward it was to make out in a car. But having Eliza in his arms was way too exciting to be worrying about the discomfort of bumping into the steering wheel or handbrake. She held his face between her hands as she returned his kiss, her tongue sliding between his lips to meet his, teasing and exploring. He was oblivious to the car, their surroundings, the fact that they were parked in a public layby. He just wanted to keep kissing Eliza.

Was it seconds or minutes before Eliza broke away from him? That kind of excitement wasn’t easily measured. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes shades brighter, her lips swollen and pouting. She was panting, so it took her some effort to control her voice. ‘Kissing you was all I could think about that night in the castle.’

‘Me too,’ he said.

Only his thoughts had marched much further than kissing. That last night he hadn’t been able to sleep, taunted by the knowledge she was in the apartment next to his at the castle, overwhelmed by how much he wanted her. Back then his married state had been an obstacle. Now there was nothing stopping them from acting on the attraction between them.

He claimed her mouth again, deeper, more demanding. There’d been enough talking. He was seized with a sense of urgency to be with her while he could. He wasn’t going to ‘over-think’ about where this might lead. Six months of pent-up longing for this woman erupted into passion, fierce and hungry.

As their kiss escalated in urgency Jake pulled her onto his lap, one hand around her waist, the other resting against the side of the car to support her. He bunched her hair in his hand and tugged to tilt her face upward, so he could deepen the kiss, hungry for her, aching for more. The little murmurs of pleasure she made deep in her throat drove him crazy with want.

His hands slid down her bare arms, brushed the side curves of her breasts, the silkiness of her top. She gasped, placed both hands on his chest and pushed away. She started to laugh—that delightful, chiming laughter he found so enchanting.

‘We’re steaming up the windows here like a coupled of hormone-crazed adolescents,’ she said, her voice broken with laughter.

‘What’s wrong with being hormone-crazed adults,’ he said, his own voice hoarse and unsteady.

‘Making out in a car is seriously sexy. I don’t want to stop,’ she said, moaning when he nuzzled against the delicious softness of her throat, kissing and tasting.

The confined area of the car was filled with her scent, heady and intoxicating. ‘Me neither,’ he said.

Eliza was so relaxed and responsive she took away any thought of awkwardness. He glanced over to the back seat. There was more room there. It was wider and roomier.

‘The back seat would be more comfortable,’ he said.

He kissed her again, manoeuvring her towards the door. They would have to get out and transfer to the back, though it might be a laugh to try and clamber through the gap between the front seats. Why not?

Just then another car pulled into the layby and parked parallel to the four-by-four. Eliza froze in his arms. Their mouths were still pressed together. Her eyes communicated her alarm.

‘That puts paid to the back seat plan,’ he said, pulling away from her with a groan of regret.

‘Just as well, really,’ Eliza said breathlessly.

She smoothed her hair back from her face with her fingers and tucked it behind her ears. Even her ears were lovely—small and shell-like.

‘The media would love to catch their most eligible bachelor being indiscreet in public.’

He scowled. ‘I hate the way they call me a bachelor. Surely that’s a term for someone who has never been married?’

‘Most eligible divorcé doesn’t quite have the same headline potential, does it?’ she said.

‘I’d rather not feature in any headlines,’ he growled.

‘You might just have to hit yourself with the ugly stick, then,’ she said. ‘Handsome and rich makes you a magnet for headlines. You’re almost too good to be true.’ She laughed. ‘Though if you scowl like that they might forget about calling you the most eligible guy in the country.’

Jake exaggerated the scowl. He liked making her laugh. ‘Too good to be true, huh?’

‘Now you look cute,’ she said.

‘Cute? I do not want to be called cute,’ he protested.

‘Handsome, good-looking, hot, smokin’, babelicious—’




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