Convenient Brides Read online

  He grinned and nuzzled the top of her head. ‘How everyone in the village from grandmothers down turned up to help rebuild the place.’

  ‘That’s lovely,’ she said. Then she frowned. ‘What is their biggest problem? Ebola?’

  He sighed. ‘The biggest killer in Africa these days is AIDS. Then there’s malaria, my speciality and still a huge problem.’

  ‘Still?’

  ‘Still and all.’

  ‘Is that why Ross River Fever interests you? Because it’s also mosquito-borne like malaria?’

  ‘It’s my speciality, if you like.’

  Ellie was quiet for a time. Quiet and drowsy but lis-tening as he went on to talk about Africa and his times there. And a question mark began to hover on the edge of her mind. Or, she thought, the conviction that he would go back one day and the question mark was to do with herself…

  But she didn’t have the energy to ask herself anything—and she fell asleep in his arms.

  Brett raised his head and looked down at her. She was sleeping absolutely peacefully. Not so surprising, he reflected. She’d packed an awful lot into one day. I’d like to see her come up with a good reason for not marrying me now, he thought with a faint smile, and paused.

  Talking about Africa had opened all the old magic up for him, but there was a subtle difference, one that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. Then he yawned and got up to take his sleeping, silken burden to bed.

  Ellie woke the next morning to the aroma of freshly ground coffee on the air. She sat up and pushed her hands though her hair, looked at her bedside clock but it wasn’t there—she wasn’t even in her own bed.

  Of course! It all came back to her and she lay back with her lips parted in, if not horror, absolute astoundment—a favourite word of Simon’s. Brett came in from the lounge at that moment and put a cup of tea down on the bedside table.

  ‘Good morning! You look…astonished.’

  He was dressed in jeans and a navy shirt, shaved, brushed and immensely good-looking.

  Ellie closed her mouth and sat up again. ‘I…am. This…is tea?’ She pointed to the cup.

  ‘It is. I thought you were useless without a cup of tea to get you going.’

  ‘I am. Thank you!’

  He sat down on the side of the bed. ‘So what’s so astonishing about me bringing you a cup of tea, Ellie?’

  She gazed at him over the rim of the cup she’d picked up. ‘I…I smelt coffee, that’s all.’

  ‘There is also coffee out there, and breakfast, and there’s a hire car waiting for us. I still don’t understand the amount of astonishment tea over coffee produced,’ he said lightly, but with a wicked little glint in his eye.

  She brooded for a moment, then put the cup down and said carefully, ‘It wasn’t altogether that. I woke up thinking I was at home.’

  He looked around. ‘So this came as a bit of a shock?’

  She followed his gaze. ‘This and everything else I did yesterday,’ she confessed, and bravely met his gaze.

  He picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘You promised me one thing—no regrets.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t have any regrets!’ She broke off and coloured at the enthusiasm in her voice. ‘I just thought you might be a bit surprised, that’s all.’

  ‘Ellie…’ But he was laughing at her and it was a while before he could speak again so instead he lay down beside her.

  ‘I feel an awful fool,’ she said against the cotton of his shirt. ‘Uh…things just came out wrong.’

  ‘I hope not.’ He cradled her against him. ‘Because it sounded to me like a very genuine endorsement of what happened yesterday, and it sounded pretty good to me!’

  She relaxed.

  ‘Unfortunately, I know it’s early,’ he said a few minutes later, very pleasurable minutes, ‘but I need to get this show on the road. I’m meeting someone at the house, it’s nearly a two-hour drive, and if we don’t leave soon we’ll be late.’

  Ellie sat up. ‘How long have I got?’

  He glanced at his watch. ‘Half an hour.’

  ‘You’d be amazed at what I can do in half an hour, Brett!’

  ‘I wouldn’t be at all amazed—I’ve seen you at work, on me, that is.’

  She turned to look at him over her shoulder with the golden glints in her eyes most noticeable. ‘Don’t tempt me,’ she warned.

  He sat up swiftly. ‘So—you did mean that rather than how fast you can dress, pack and breakfast?’ he challenged.

  She pretended to consider. Then she said with an el-egant little shrug, ‘On second thoughts, I’d rather take my time the next time I do it—incidentally,’ she added, ‘you were the one who…rushed us the last time.’

  ‘For my sins—I was dying, thanks to you.’

  She put her hand over his. ‘I presume we’re staying somewhere where we can be together tonight?’

  ‘We are.’

  ‘There you go, then.’

  ‘Ellie—this is a phone.’ He pointed to the bedside table.

  ‘I know that, Brett,’ she said, her eyes serenely innocent.

  ‘Well, all I have to do is lift it and make a couple of cancellation calls—and we would have all the time in the world!’

  She gazed at him, then touched the back of her hand to his cheek as her mouth curved into a smile. ‘Actually, you got it right. What I meant was—I’ve had years of experience in getting dressed, et cetera, in no time at all!’

  For a moment his expression defied description, then he said, ‘Hell, I knew that but I don’t think it’s much good to me now.’

  ‘I’d better remove myself,’ she suggested, and slipped out of the bed. ‘Besides which, since this is a phone, I need to ring my only son.’

  She picked up the phone and Brett lay back with his hands behind his head, looking wry. ‘It’s just as well I’m such a good-natured guy otherwise I could be rather annoyed. As you have said to me from time to time.’

  Ellie dialled the Websters’ number, conferred briefly with Martie’s mother, then Simon came on. ‘How’s it going, mon?’ he asked cheerfully.

  ‘I’m having a wonderful time, Simon! How’s it with you?’

  He told her in detail, then asked if he could speak to Brett. Ellie said goodbye and handed the phone over, and, seeing that ten minutes of her half-hour had elapsed, dashed into the shower.

  Brett was eating breakfast when she emerged from the bedroom wearing white cotton trousers and a blue and white checked blouse and carrying her bag. ‘There—five minutes to spare,’ she said triumphantly. ‘Are you rather annoyed?’

  He gestured for her to sit down, removed the cover from a plate of bacon and scrambled eggs and poured her coffee. ‘I’m rolling with the punches,’ he advised her. ‘Your only son’s as well.’

  ‘What would they be?’

  ‘The kennel has been perfected. He’s even chosen a name for the dog and they’ve painted it above the entrance.’

  Ellie grimaced. ‘Sorry—but I did point out to you an area where you had considerable expertise. What’s he going to call the dog?’

  Brett eyed her lazily. ‘Guess.’

  ‘Uh—I have no idea.’

  ‘What’s his other passion?’

  ‘Cricket?’ Ellie said incredulously.

  ‘No, but close—Flipper.’

  ‘I should have known that!’ They laughed together and presently left the hotel together to drive down to Portsea.

  It was another lovely day and a pleasure to be driving down the Mornington Peninsula. Names she’d heard of often rolled past. Frankston, Mount Eliza, Mount Martha and Port Phillip Bay.

  But the house Brett had mentioned rather casually at Portsea was a real eye-opener. Old, solid and white behind impressive gates, it had its own beach and beautiful grounds. In fact both Portsea and its neighbouring sub-urb of Sorrento shouted one thing to her—old money.

  There was a real estate agent to greet them at the house and as he showed them around all sorts of questi
ons bubbled up in Ellie—had Brett ever lived here? Why would anyone sell it unless they had to?

  But she asked none of them as she followed in their wake and tried not to look too dazzled.

  Finally the inspection was over and they got back into the car. ‘So—we’re not spending the night here?’ she queried as she did up her seat belt.

  ‘No. Down the road a bit. What do you think of it?’

  Ellie looked back at the house. ‘I think it’s wonderful but…’ she paused ‘…I seem to sense—I don’t know, something not quite right?’

  He shrugged. ‘It came down on my mother’s side of the family. And it was always the cause—one of the many causes,’ he amended, ‘of bitter disagreement between my parents. Look, Ellie, I need to go back to the office with the estate agent. Would you like to browse around Portsea for a bit? It’s not exactly huge but it’s pleasant.’

  ‘Sure.’

  So he dropped her off and arranged where to pick her up in an hour. She window-shopped for a while, then sat down to have a long cool drink. And it came to her that she’d learnt quite a bit about Brett over the last twenty-four hours—and not only how much she loved being made love to by him.

  There was the Africa bit, as she remembered how he’d spoken of it last night—with true, deep affection, she thought with a little pang. And now there was the rev-elation that his parents had not got on and a house that brought back unhappy memories. How much had that shaped the man he now was? she wondered. How much bearing did both those things have on the decision that was looming in front of her? A decision she had thrust out of her mind yesterday…

  ‘Penny for them?’

  She looked up with a start to see Brett standing beside her. ‘Oh, this and that.’

  He paused and looked at her narrowly, ‘I think I may have been away too long,’ he said and held out his hand.

  She put hers into it and stood up. ‘Not really.’ But even to her ears she sounded a bit uncertain.

  He smiled into her eyes, causing her to go a little weak at the knees. ‘Only a few minutes away, and we’ll be in paradise.’

  ‘Paradise?’

  ‘You’ll see. Come.’ He led her to the car.

  A few minutes later she did see. Almost at the end of the peninsula, before it gave way to national park, was Peppers, Delgany, a private home resembling a castle that had been taken over by the Peppers chain and converted to a luxury hotel. And once again Ellie was almost bowled over by, this time, the exquisite taste and wonderful aura of this large country-house-style hotel.

  ‘It’s wonderful,’ she said as she looked around their suite that overlooked a golf course.

  ‘So are you—but I’m glad you like it.’ Brett took her in his arms and kissed her leisurely. ‘Tired?’

  She leant against him gratefully. ‘A bit.’

  ‘It’s only to be expected. Here’s what I propose. A rest, maybe a long soak in the tub, then I’ll take you out to dinner—not here, unfortunately, I neglected to book and the restaurant’s full. But the Portsea Hotel is also very nice.’

  ‘Anywhere,’ she said, and looked longingly through to the king-size bed.

  He laughed. ‘Go to it, Ms Madigan.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’ve got a few calls to make, I’ll do it in here so as not to disturb you.’

  ‘I feel…like a wimp.’

  ‘No, you’re not. Will you just do as you’re told, Ellie?’

  ‘Yes, sir!’

  He woke her an hour and a half later with a kiss and a cocktail, a cre‘me de menthe frappeé, and the news that he’d run the bath for her.

  Ellie sat up and made a small, heartfelt sound in her throat, indicative of feeling quite lousy.

  He looked amused. ‘Take this into the bathroom with you.’ He put the glass in her hand. ‘Sip it gently while the bubbles do their work and I guarantee you’ll get out feeling a million dollars. There’s also a nice view from the bathroom.’

  ‘Bubbles?’

  ‘Have a look.’

  She followed him into the bathroom and the bath was full of bubbles towering above the rim. ‘I could get lost in there,’ she observed, then, on an impulse, turned to him and kissed him. ‘You’re so sweet,’ she told him.

  He looked down at her ironically. ‘Sweet?’

  ‘Well, sweet, stunning, sensational and very sexy.’

  ‘Thank you—as an ego massager that was first class!’

  She grinned at him and recommended he take himself off while she restored herself to full vitality.

  The Portsea Hotel had a venerable façade but had been modernized inside. And decks had been added so you could sit outside and look over the bay. There was also a lively crowd in attendance. Brett found them a table on the deck and went to the bistro to order for them.

  Ellie looked out over Port Phillip Bay as a blue dusk drew in and acknowledged that Brett’s remedies had restored her. She felt relaxed and peaceful. She’d put on blue jeans and the top of the outfit she’d worn to Delia’s party, so she also felt trendy and in tune with the rather yuppie crowd.

  He came back with a bottle of wine in a cooler, a number and the news that their dinner would be ready in about twenty minutes.

  ‘Do you know this part of the world well, Brett?’ she asked as he poured the wine.

  ‘I used to spend holidays down here as a kid, with my grandparents. They owned the house. When they died, they left it to my mother and she leased it out.’

  ‘Why did it cause dissension between your parents?’

  He sat back and shrugged. ‘My grandparents always felt that my mother married beneath her—and not even a Victorian but a brash Queenslander. You may not realize it but—’

  ‘I had,’ she broke in. ‘Very old money in this part of the world.’

  ‘Exactly.’ He smiled faintly. ‘Naturally, my father objected to that. And any evidence of her wealth was anathema to him. It also spurred him on to succeed so that he could provide her with as much as her parents had. The long hard road of that took its toll, unfortu-nately, and there was often a state of war in their relationship.’

  Ellie twirled her glass and frowned.

  ‘I know what you’re thinking,’ he said. ‘I wondered it often enough myself—those things were only periph-eral, or should have been, so were they just ill-suited from the start? Were they two people always destined to have a love-hate relationship? To this day, I don’t know.’

  ‘Actually, I was wondering how it affected you,’ Ellie said.

  He moved restlessly. ‘Some of it rubs off, obviously. So. We both suffered a bit at the hands of our parents. Here’s to us, then. Survivors.’ He raised his glass and she did the same. ‘Although, you’re the ultimate survi-vor, Ellie.’

  ‘No.’ She put her glass down. ‘No better or worse than the next,’ she said tranquilly.

  He opened his mouth but their number was called and the delicious meal he brought back steered them towards brighter topics of conversation.

  ‘Ellie?’

  They were lying together in a pool of light from the bedside lamp, naked and exploring each other intimately.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘You’re very lovely.’ He swept his hands down her flank. ‘Soft and delicate but with an inner core of fire and strength—it’s a fascinating combination.’

  ‘Thanks. I guess it would be fair to say I find you fascinating.’

  ‘What you’re doing right now is extremely—fascinating.’

  She raised her head and smiled into his eyes.

  He smoothed her hair. ‘Home tomorrow. For you, anyway.’

  She tensed slightly. ‘Are you staying?’

  ‘For a day or two, that’s all. I really want to tie up all my loose business ends so I don’t have to keep coming south once the lab is fully functioning.’ He moved and rested his head on his elbow so he could look down at her. ‘Is that a problem?’ He toyed with her nipples.

  ‘No. I can take myself home.�
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  ‘So why did you react to the thought of going home?’

  ‘Only because,’ she said with an effort, ‘I’ve been living minute to minute for the last two days.’

  ‘No decisions yet?’ he said with a wryly raised eyebrow.

  ‘No. Well, one—if you don’t stop doing that shortly I’ll…have a conniption on my own.’

  ‘Like hell you will,’ he said, and eased himself on top of her. ‘See?’ he teased. ‘We’re in this together whether you like it or not.’

  ‘I didn’t say that…’ But she didn’t say any more either as he gradually upped the tempo between them until they were moving rhythmically then more and more ur-gently, on the brink of that lovely sensation—then it was there and she arched her body beneath his and cried out huskily in sheer joy.

  Nor did there seem to be much to say afterwards because it was as if what had happened between them had said it all, and he wrapped her loosely in his arms until they fell asleep.

  The Melbourne weather did an about-turn the next morn ing and they drove back to town through mist and rain.

  ‘I can’t believe it, it’s freezing!’ Ellie said.

  ‘It might be as hot as hell at home.’

  ‘At least you know where you are at home.’

  ‘True.’

  ‘Brett, have you made a decision about the house?’ she asked.

  ‘No.’ He put the windscreen wipers up a notch and swore beneath his breath as the rain pelted down. ‘It’s a real dilemma. One part of me says get rid of it, it has unhappy associations, another says it is part of my her-itage. But there is a buyer on the horizon. What would you do, Ellie?’

  She blinked at him. ‘It’s got nothing to do—’

  He stopped her rather abruptly. ‘It could.’

  She looked out of her window. ‘I still can’t answer for me in any way, Brett. But if you’re undecided, if I were you, I’d keep it.’

  ‘When will you be able to answer for yourself, Ellie?’

  She hesitated briefly then put her hand over his. ‘I’m very close to being there, Brett. Would you…could you understand that…difficult times make you very wary, though?’

  His grey gaze rested on her and he looked as if he was about to say something impatient, then his eyes soft-ened and he sighed. ‘Yes. All right. But I may not be home until Saturday so don’t get any strange ideas in the meantime.’