The Bridesmaid's Baby Bump (4 page)

‘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

J
AKE
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—’

‘Stop right there,’ he said, unable to suppress a grin. ‘You don’t call a guy
babelicious
. That’s a girl word. Let me try it on you.’

‘No need,’ she protested. ‘I’m not the babelicious type.’

‘I think you are—if I understand it to mean sexy and desirable and—’ Her mock glare made him stop. ‘How about lovely, beautiful, sweet, elegant—?’

‘That’s more than enough,’ she said. ‘I’ll take elegant. Audrey Hepburn’s style is my icon. Not that I’m really tall enough to own
elegant
. But I try.’

‘You succeed, let me assure you,’ he said.

‘Thank you. I like
smokin
’ for you,’ she said, her eyes narrowing as she looked him over.

Her flattering descriptive words left him with a warm feeling. No matter how he’d tried to put a brave face on it, the continued rejection by his ex had hurt. She’d found someone else, of course. He should have realised earlier, before he’d let his ego get so bruised. The admiration in Eliza’s eyes was like balm to those bruises. He intended to take everything she offered.

‘I’d rather kiss than talk, wouldn’t you?’ he said.

He’d rather do so much more than kiss.

‘If you say so,’ she said with a seductive smile.

They kissed for a long time, until just kissing was not enough. It was getting steamy in the car—and not in an exciting way. It was too hot without the air-conditioning, but they couldn’t sit there with the engine on.

The windows really were getting fogged up now. Visibility was practically zero. Eliza swiped her finger across the windscreen. Then spelled out the word KISSING. ‘It’s very obvious what’s going on in here.’

He found her wicked giggle enchanting.

‘More so now you’ve done that,’ he said.

Spontaneity wasn’t something he’d expected from cool and controlled Eliza. He ached to discover what other surprises she had in store for him.

‘We really should go,’ she said breathlessly. ‘How long will it take to get to Port Douglas?’

‘Thirty minutes to my place,’ he said.

She wiggled in her seat in a show of impatience. ‘Then put your foot to the floor and get us there ASAP, will you?’

Jake couldn’t get his foot on the accelerator fast enough.

* * *

Eliza had a sense she was leaving everything that was everyday behind her as the four-by-four effortlessly climbed the steep driveway which led from the street in Port Douglas to Jake’s getaway house. His retreat, he’d called it. As she slid out of the high-set car she gaped at the magnificence of the architectural award-winning house nestled among palm trees and vivid tropical gardens. Large glossy leaves in every shade of green contrasted with riotous blooms in orange, red and yellow. She breathed in air tinged with salt, ginger and the honey-scented white flowers that grew around the pathway.

This was his second house. No, his third. He’d told her he had a penthouse apartment in one of the most fashionable waterfront developments in Sydney, where his neighbours were celebrities and millionaires. His riverfront mansion in Brisbane was his home base. There were probably other houses too, but she’d realised early on that Jake wasn’t the kind of billionaire to boast about his wealth.

Then Jake was kissing her again, and she didn’t think about houses or bank balances or anything other than him and the way he was making her feel. He didn’t break the kiss as he used his fingerprints on a sensor to get into the house—nothing so mundane as a key—and pushed open the door. They stumbled into the house, still kissing, laughing at their awkward progress but refusing to let go of each other.

Once inside, Eliza registered open-plan luxury and an awesome view. Usually she was a sucker for a water view. But nothing could distract her from Jake. She’d never wanted a man more than she wanted him. Many times since the wedding in Montovia she’d wondered if she had been foolish in holding off from him. There would be no regrets this time—no ‘if only’. She didn’t want him to stop...didn’t want second thoughts to sneak into her consciousness.

In the privacy of the house their kisses got deeper, more demanding. Caresses—she of him and he of her—got progressively more intimate. Desire, warm and urgent, thrilled through her body.

She remembered when she’d first met Jake. He’d flown down to Sydney to be best man for Dominic at the surprise wedding Dominic had organised for Andie. Eliza had been expecting a geek. The athletic, handsome best man had been the furthest from her image of a geek as he could possibly have been. She’d been instantly smitten—then plunged into intense disappointment to find he was married.

Now she had the green light to touch him, kiss him, undress him.
No holds barred.

‘Bedroom?’ he murmured.

He didn’t really have to ask. There had been no need for words for her to come to her decision of where to take this mutually explosive passion. Their kisses, their caresses, their sighs had communicated everything he needed to know.

She had always enjoyed those scenes in movies where a kissing couple left a trail of discarded clothing behind them as they staggered together towards the bedroom. To be taking part in such a scene with Jake was like a fantasy fulfilled. A fantasy that had commenced in the ballroom of a fairytale castle in Europe and culminated in an ultra-modern house overlooking a tropical beach in far north Australia.

They reached his bedroom, the bed set in front of a panoramic view that stretched out over the pool to the sea. Then she was on the bed with Jake, rejoicing in the intimacy, the closeness, the confidence—the wonderful new entity that was
them
.

Eliza and Jake.

CHAPTER FIVE

E
LIZA
DIDN
’
T
KNOW
where she was when she woke up some time later. In a super-sized bed and not alone. She blinked against the late-afternoon sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows with a view of palm trees, impossibly blue sky, the turquoise sea beyond.

Jake’s bedroom.

She smiled to herself with satisfaction. Remembered the trail of discarded clothes that had led to this bed. The passion. The fun. The ultimate pleasure. Again and again.

He lay beside her on his back, long muscular limbs sprawled across the bed and taking up much of the space. The sheets were tangled around his thighs. He seemed to be in a deep sleep, his broad chest rhythmically rising and falling.

She gazed at him for a long moment and caught her breath when she remembered what a skilled, passionate lover he’d proved to be. Her body ached in a thoroughly satisfied way.

Beautiful
wasn’t a word she would normally choose to describe a man. But he
was
beautiful—in an intensely masculine way. The tawny hair, green eyes—shut tight at the moment—the sculpted face, smooth tanned skin, slightly crooked nose. His beard had started to shadow his jaw, dark in contrast to the tawny blond of his hair.

There were some things in life she would never, ever forget or regret. Making love with Jake was one of them. Heaven knew where they went from here, but even if this was all she ever had of him she would cherish the memory for the rest of her days. In her experience it was rare to want someone so intensely and then not be disappointed. Nothing about making love with Jake disappointed her.

Eliza breathed in the spicy warm scent of him; her own classic French scent that was her personal indulgence mingled with it so that it became the scent of
them.
Unique, memorable, intensely personal.

She tentatively stretched out a leg. It was starting to cramp under his much larger, heavier leg. Rolling cautiously away, so her back faced him, she wondered where the bathroom was, realised it was en suite and so not far.

She started to edge cautiously away. Then felt a kiss on her shoulder. She went still, her head thrown back in pleasure as Jake planted a series of kisses along her shoulder to land a final one in her most sensitive spot at the top of her jaw, below her ear. She gasped. They had so quickly learned what pleased each other.

Then a strong arm was around her, restraining her. ‘You’re not going anywhere,’ he said as he pulled her to him.

She turned around to find Jake lying on his side. His body was so perfect she gasped her admiration. The sculptured pecs, the flat belly and defined six-pack, the muscular arms and legs... He was without a doubt the hottest billionaire on the planet.

Eliza trailed her hand over the smooth skin of his chest.
‘Smokin’,’
she murmured.

He propped himself up on his other elbow. Smiled that slow smile. ‘Okay?’ he asked.

‘Very okay,’ she said, returning his smile and stretching like one of her cats with remembered pleasure. ‘It was very sudden. Unexpected. So soon, I mean. But it was good we just let it happen. We didn’t get a chance to over-think things. Over-analyse how we felt, what it would mean.’

‘Something so spontaneous wasn’t in my dating after divorce guidebook,’ he said with that endearing grin.

His face was handsome, but strong-jawed and tough. That smile lightened it, took away the edge of ruthlessness she sensed was not far from the surface. He couldn’t have got where he had by being Mr Nice Guy. That edge excited her.

‘Lucky you threw it out the window, then,’ she said. ‘I seriously wonder about the advice in that thing.’

‘Best thing I ever did was ignore it,’ he said.

He kissed her lightly on the shoulder, the growth of his beard pleasantly rough. She felt a rush of intense triumph that she was here with him—finally. With her finger she traced around his face, exploring its contours, the feel of his skin, smooth in parts, rough with bristle in others. Yes, she could call this man
beautiful.

He picked up a strand of her hair and idly twisted it between his fingers. ‘What did you do to get over
your
divorce?’

The question surprised her. It wasn’t something she really wanted to remember. ‘Became a hermit for a while. Like you, I felt an incredible sense of failure. I’m not used to failing at things. There was relief though, too. We got married when I was twenty-four. I’d only known him six months when he marched me down the aisle. Not actually an aisle. He’d been married before so we got hitched in the registry office.’

‘Why the hurry?’

‘He was seven years older than me. He wanted to start a family. I should have known better than to be rushed into it. Big mistake. Turned out I didn’t know him at all. He showed himself to be quite the bully.’

She had ended up both fearing and hating him.

‘Sounds like you had a lucky escape.’

‘I did. But it wasn’t pleasant at the time. No break-up ever is, is it? No matter the circumstances.’

Jake nodded assent. ‘Mine dragged on too long.’

‘I know. I was waiting, remember.’

‘It got so delayed at the end because her new guy inserted himself into the picture. He introduced an element of ugliness and greed.’

Ugliness.
Eliza didn’t want to admit to Jake how scary
her
marriage had become. There hadn’t been physical abuse, but she had endured some serious mental abuse. When she’d found herself getting used to it, even making excuses for Craig because she’d hated to admit she’d made a mistake in marrying him, she’d known it was time to get out. The experience had wounded her and toughened her. She’d vowed never again to risk getting tied up in something as difficult to extricate herself from as marriage.

‘It took me a while to date again,’ she said. ‘I’d lost faith in my judgement of men. Man, did I date a few duds. And I turned off a few guys who were probably quite decent because of my interrogation technique. I found myself trying to discover anything potentially wrong about them before I even agreed to go out for a drink.’

Jake used her hair to tug her gently towards him for a quick kiss on her nose before he released her. ‘You didn’t interrogate me,’ he said.

‘I didn’t need to. You weren’t a potential date. When we first met at Andie and Dominic’s wedding you were married. I could chat to you without expectation or agenda. You were an attractive, interesting man but off-limits.’

He picked up her hand, began idly stroking first her palm and then her fingers. Tingles of pleasure shot through her body right down to her toes. Nothing was off-limits now.

‘You were so lovely, so smart—and so accepting of me,’ he said. ‘It was a revelation. You actually seemed interested in what I had to say.’

As his ex hadn’t been? Eliza began to see how unhappy Jake had been. Trapped in a past-its-use-by-date marriage. Bound by what seemed to have been misplaced duty and honour.

‘Are you kidding me?’ she said. ‘You’re such a success story and only a few years older than me. I found you fascinating. And a surprise. All three Party Queens had been expecting a stereotype geek—not a guy who looked like an athlete. You weren’t arrogant either, which was another surprise.’

‘That was a social situation. I can be arrogant when it comes to my work and impatient with people who don’t get it.’

His expression hardened and she saw again that underlying toughness. She imagined he would be a demanding boss.

‘I guess you have to be tough to have got where you are—a self-made man. Your fortune wasn’t handed to you.’

‘I see you’ve done your research?’

‘Of course.’ She’d spent hours on the internet, looking him up—not that’d she’d admit to the extent of her ‘research’. ‘There’s a lot to be found on Jake Marlowe. The media loves a rags-to-riches story.’

‘There were never rags. Clothes from charity shops, yes, but not rags.’ The tense lines of his mouth belied his attempt at a joke. ‘My mother did her best to make life as good for me as she could. But it wasn’t easy. Struggle Street is not where I ever wanted to stay. Or go back to. My ex never really got that.’

‘You married young. Why?’ There hadn’t been a lot in the online information about his early years.

He replied without hesitation. ‘Fern was pregnant. It was the right thing to do.’

‘I thought you didn’t have kids?’

‘I don’t. She lost the baby quite early.’

‘That’s sad...’ Her voice trailed away.
Very
sad. She would not—could not—reveal how very sad the thought made her. How her heart shrank a little every time she thought about having kids.

‘The pregnancy was an accident.’

‘Not a ploy to force your hand in marriage?’ She had always found the ‘oldest trick in the book’ to be despicable.

‘No. We’d been together off and on since my last year of high school. Marriage was the next step. The pregnancy just hurried things along. Looking back on it, though, I can see if she hadn’t got pregnant we might not have ended up married. It was right on the cusp, when everything was changing. Things were starting to take off in a big way for the company Dominic and I had started.’

‘You didn’t try for a baby again?’

‘Fern didn’t want kids. Felt the planet was already over-populated. That it was irresponsible to have children.’

‘And you?’ She held her breath for his answer.

During her infrequent forays into dating she’d found the children issue became urgent for thirty-somethings. For women there was the very real fact of declining fertility. And men like her ex thought they had biological clocks too. Craig had worried about being an old dad. He’d been obsessed with being able to play active sports with his kids. Boys, of course, in particular. Having come from a farming family, where boys had been valued more than girls, that had always rankled with her.

Jake’s jaw had set and she could see the hard-headed businessman under the charming exterior.

‘I’ve never wanted to have children. My ex and I were in agreement about not wanting kids.’

‘What about in the future?’

He shook his head. ‘I won’t change my mind. I don’t want to be a father.
Ever
.’

‘I see,’ she said, absorbing what he meant. What it meant to her. It was something she didn’t want to share with him at this stage. She might be out of here this afternoon and never see him again.

‘My support group devoted a lot of time to warnings about women who might try and trap a wealthy, newly single guy into marriage by getting pregnant,’ he said.

‘Doesn’t it take two to get a woman pregnant?’

‘The odds can be unfairly stacked when one half of the equation lies about using contraception.’

Eliza pulled a face. ‘Those poor old gold-diggers again. I don’t know
any
woman I could label as a gold-digger, and we do parties through all echelons of Sydney society. Are there really legions of women ready to trap men into marriage by getting pregnant?’

‘I don’t know about legions, but they definitely exist. The other guys in that group were proof of that. It can be a real problem for rich men. A baby means lifetime child support—that’s a guaranteed income for a certain type of woman.’

‘But surely—’

Jake put up a hand at her protest. ‘Hear me out. Some of those men were targeted when they were most vulnerable. It’s good to be forewarned. I certainly wouldn’t want to find myself caught in a trap like that.’

‘Well, you don’t have to worry about me,’ she said. In light of this conversation, she
had
to tell him. ‘I can’t—’

He put a finger over her mouth. She took it between her teeth and gently nipped it.

‘Be assured I don’t think of you like that,’ he said. ‘Your fierce independence is one of the things I like about you.’

‘Seriously, Jake. Listen to me. I wouldn’t be able to hold you to ransom with a pregnancy because...because...’ How she hated admitting to her failure to be able to fulfil a woman’s deepest biological purpose. ‘I...I can’t have children.’

He stilled. ‘Eliza, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’

‘Of course you didn’t know. It’s not something I blurt out too often.’ She hated to be defined by her infertility. Hated to be pitied.
Poor Eliza—you know she can’t have kids?

‘How? Why?’

‘I had a ruptured appendix when I was twelve years old. No one took it too seriously at first. They put my tummy pains down to something I ate. Or puberty. But the pain got worse. By the time they got me to hospital—remember we lived a long way from the nearest town—the appendix had burst and septicaemia had set in.’

Jake took her hand, gripped it tight. ‘Eliza, I’m so sorry. Couldn’t the doctors have done something?’

‘I don’t know. I was twelve and very ill. Turned out I was lucky to be alive. Unfortunately no one told me, or my parents, what damage it had done to my reproductive system—the potential for scar tissue on the fallopian tubes. I wasn’t aware of the problem until I tried to have a baby and couldn’t fall pregnant. Only then was I told that infertility is a not uncommon side effect of a burst appendix.’

He frowned. ‘I really don’t know what to say.’

‘What
can
you say? Don’t try. You can see why I don’t like to talk about it.’

‘You said your ex wanted to start a family? Is that why you split?’

‘In part, yes. He was already over thirty and he really wanted to have kids. His
own
kids. Adoption wasn’t an option for him. I wanted children too, though probably later rather than sooner. I never thought I wouldn’t be able to have a baby. I always believed I would be a mother. And one day a grandmother. Even a great-grandmother. I’ll miss out on all of that.’

‘I’m sorry, Eliza,’ he said again.

She couldn’t admit to him—to anyone—her deep, underlying sense of failure as a woman. How she grieved the loss of her dream of being a mother, which had died when the truth of her infertility had been forced into her face with the results of scans and X-rays.