‘It needn’t be.’
‘Alex…’
She stared at him and for a moment was unbearably tempted to let down her guard and place herself, body and soul, in his hands, but a sudden golden image of Leonie Falconer flashed before her mind’s eye.
‘Alex,’ she said again, ‘all my life I’ve been told what to do by people who believe they know what’s best for me.’ She shrugged. ‘While I appreciate their love and concern, I need to make my own decisions now or I could become frozen in that mode. Do you—could you understand that?’ she asked anxiously.
He stirred and broke his narrowed, intent study of her to look across the bay. ‘Within limits,’ he said at last. ‘If you need more time—OK. Breaking up this marriage is not what I have in mind, however. But we don’t have to make such heavy weather of it.’ He smiled at her suddenly and nearly took her breath away. ‘As soon as the video is finished we’ll go to Beaufort.’
The next two weeks were busy and satisfying for Tattie.
She flew out to a pearl farm with Alex and the film crew and enjoyed not only filming the farming operation but also just being there. The Constantin mother ship was anchored in the Kimberley bay, with accommodation on it, and when they weren’t filming she and Alex went fishing by dinghy up the Drysdale River.
Not as grand as the King George or the Berkeley, nevertheless the Drysdale had a timeless beauty of its own. Red cabbage-tree palms soared above the bushy, rock-strewn banks and the sand on the shores was pale gold. There were red-tailed black cockatoos with their large, lazy wingspan and their distinctive call. There were magnificent white-breasted sea eagles working the waters and a pair of brahminy kites with their white heads and tan feathers, always in the same spot, that she nicknamed George and Georgina.
There were crocodiles.
Often when they stopped to fish she looked at a rock or what appeared to be a log in the water, only to see it move and reveal itself as a knobbly, prehistoric crocodile. Or, as they were cruising along, what looked like a log on the bank would come to life and slide swiftly and silently into the water.
They caught barramundi, the holy grail of Australian fish, and her first catch was intensely exciting as she realised from the black-fringed flash of silver that leapt from the water what she had on her line. She refused any help from Alex, and after a magnificent fight managed to land it and collapse exhaustedly but delightedly with her catch—an eighty-centimetre fish.
One day they took a picnic lunch and steered the dinghy to the head of the river between rock walls that made her think of a Roman amphitheatre. It was as far as any boat could go anyway, before the river became a series of rapids and freshwater rock pools. There was a flat shelf along the bank and they climbed out and sat in the shade of the rock overhang to enjoy their picnic.
Tattie wore a green blouse and shorts over a blue bikini, a racy peaked cap with her hair tucked through the back, and sunglasses. It was a clear, warm day—they all were at this time of the year in this part of the world—and she stared up at the blue sky and breathed deeply. Beyond Napier Broome Bay and the Drysdale River, the Timor Sea extended towards East and West Timor and Indonesia, and the equator wasn’t that far away.
‘It’s like a last frontier, isn’t it?’ she said a little dreamily. ‘So wild, untamed and wonderful.’
He nodded. ‘I see what you mean.’
Tattie raised an eyebrow at him, because it seemed like an odd reply.
He poured two cups of tea from a Thermos flask. ‘You really do love this part of the world—and it shows on the video now.’ His lips quirked. ‘You’ve also endeared yourself to everyone on the pearl farm with your infectious enthusiasm.’
She grinned impishly. ‘It’s nice to know I’m earning my keep. In a very small way.’
‘Perhaps I ought to fly you up here on a regular basis. Staff morale is important in these out-of-the-way places, and with jobs still dangerous despite modern technology—like diving for the wild shells.’
She shivered suddenly. ‘I was reading about King Sound the other day, and how many hard-hat divers it claimed with its treacherous deep-water drop-offs. I believe the area is still known as “The Graveyard”’.
‘Pearling was a very hazardous occupation in those days. Decompression, drop-offs and squeezing were big problems, not to mention above-water catastrophes like cyclones that wiped out whole fleets before they had today’s weather-forecasting technology. And all for buttons.’
‘Buttons?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He unwrapped two slices of fruit cake and handed one to her to have with her tea. ‘Mother-of-pearl for buttons was the mainstay of the pearling industry up here in those days. Gem pearls were very rare, but everyone needed buttons. Then plastic took over and the bottom fell out of the mother-of-pearl market. That’s when the cultured-pearl industry was pioneered.’
Tattie was sitting cross-legged, enjoying her fruit cake. ‘It’s funny how the world turns. One door closes and another opens.’
Alex stood up and brushed his crumbs away. He had on a pair of khaki shorts and a grey T-shirt, which he now pulled over his head.
‘Time for a swim. You know, Tattie, talking of things like that—how the world turns and earning your keep—there’s another very good reason for staying married to me. You’ve taken to all this like a duck to water. You are an asset, and to have a wife who is as vitally interested in what one does as you are provides a very good framework for a marriage.’
She blinked behind her sunglasses.
‘Take your mother, for example,’ he said quietly. ‘Word—gossip, possibly, but all the same—has it that she and your father did not have that in common, and you yourself told me she was like a displaced person at Beaufort. Did that help their marriage?’
‘N-no, but…’ She stopped and could only gaze up at him helplessly. This was the first time any discussion of their marriage had surfaced since lunch at the Darwin Sailing Club. And since that day Alex had gone back to being the Alex she’d known up until their wedding anniversary, apart from their brief and, she now realised, essentially chaste courtship.
Oh, yes, she’d conceded to herself several times lately, he had been able to make her tremble in his arms when he’d kissed her in those days, but that had been nothing to how he’d affected her when he’d really set his mind to it…
There was something else his words aroused in her. She would dearly love to prove to him that she was not just the trendy, social-butterfly daughter of her mother he might have taken her for. She would really like, she realised, to have the opportunity to prove her intelligence and substance to him, and taking a more active part in his business could be the way to do it.
But that was all he said or did. After waiting a moment for her reply he strolled over to the rock pool and lowered himself into the water with a groan.
‘It’s bloody cold,’ he called to her.
‘Go on, you’re being a baby!’ she responded, and stood up to strip off her blouse and shorts.
‘Wait and see!’ He disappeared under the water.
But she hesitated for a moment as she contemplated what she was up against now. No more red-hot sex? she thought with a tinge of humour that disappeared as fast as it had come. Logic instead, it seemed to her—sane, sensible realism. And, of course, he had a point—and one that struck right to the heart of her home—because he was also diabolically clever, Alex Constantin.
He was also right—the water was cold, so that she yelped as she slipped in and he laughed at her. But their trip back to the mother ship after they’d dried off and warmed themselves in the sun was quiet and swift.
‘Tatiana, you’re looking wonderful!’
Her mother had come round for coffee the first morning after Tattie’s return.
‘Thanks!’
‘That light tan suits you,’ Natalie said enthusiastically. ‘Did you have a wonderful time? I believe the video is sensational.’
Tattie looked down at herself in filmy c
halk-blue trousers and a matching loose over-blouse. ‘Yes, I had a wonderful time, and everyone seems pleased with the video, but I don’t know about sensational. I haven’t seen the edited version yet.’ She poured coffee from the percolator and sat down.
‘I’m sure you’re being modest,’ Natalie said complacently. ‘And I can’t help wondering if that…sort of bloom you’ve got and the clothes you’re wearing mean anything else?’
Tattie stared at her mother over the top of her cup, mystified. ‘Bloom? Clothes?’
‘As in needing a bit more space in your clothes. As in the stork being on the way, darling.’
Tattie put her cup down with a little clatter. ‘Don’t you start, Mum! I’ve been out in the open a lot, that’s all. As for clothes, it gets hot up here, in case you haven’t noticed, even at this time of the year!’
Natalie grimaced. ‘Sorry! I just wondered. Who else has been bugging you—Alex?’
‘His mother,’ Tattie said darkly. ‘She never lets an opportunity pass, but for your information, Mum, there is no problem; it’s entirely up to Alex and me when we start a family.’
Natalie looked thoughtful. Then she said, ‘I could always come back, of course.’
‘What for? Come back from where?’
‘Tatiana…’ Natalie hesitated then took a deep breath.
‘I’m getting married again. I hope this doesn’t upset you; I hope you don’t feel as if I’m deserting you or being unfaithful to your father’s memory—although the truth of the matter is he…we…it wasn’t an easy marriage…and I…I…’ She stopped and looked, for once in her life, terrified.
Tattie got up swiftly and went to put her arms around her mother. ‘Mum,’ she said softly, ‘why are you scared of telling me this? I know how it was; I was there. And all I want for you is happiness!’
‘Oh, Tattie,’ Natalie said—one of the few times she’d shortened the name, ‘there’s a lot of Austin in you. Sometimes I see a glint of steel in you and it’s made me wonder…but forget about that; I was so afraid you’d disapprove of me falling in love.’
‘Tell me about it,’ Tattie urged.
Ten minutes later she had it all. Natalie had fallen in love with a widowed artist who had been up in the Territory for the last six months painting Kakadu. They planned to live in Perth. There was such a glow about her mother as she spoke of the man in her life; Tattie saw a new and softer side to her that amazed her a little.
‘But why would you feel as if you were deserting me?’ she asked after they’d had a comfortable chat about this turn of events.
‘Well, I brought you to Darwin, and I introduced you to Alex.’ Natalie stopped and looked at Tattie a shade self-consciously. ‘But it is all going well with you and Alex?’ she asked intensely.
‘Why shouldn’t it be?’ Tattie replied with what she hoped was just the right amount of unconcern.
‘I…’ Natalie hesitated and sighed. ‘You know that glint of steel you inherited from your father that I mentioned earlier? I sometimes can’t help wondering if you didn’t have your own agenda for Alex Constantin, Tatiana.’
Tattie knew suddenly—inexplicably, but knew all the same—that she couldn’t and didn’t want to fence with her mother any longer. Perhaps it had something to do with this new, softer Natalie, or perhaps for the first time she felt on an equal footing with her.
‘I did,’ she said, and told her mother the truth about her marriage for the first time.
‘Now I feel really terrible,’ Natalie pronounced. ‘Now I know I can’t leave you!’
‘Nonsense,’ Tattie said, but affectionately. ‘I went into it with my eyes open. No amount of matchmaking would have pushed me where I didn’t want or didn’t need to go, Mum. So you may go to Perth and start your new life with my blessing! It’s not as if it’s the other side of the world anyway.’
‘Talk about role reversal!’ Her mother looked at her ruefully.
‘All the same, I’m so happy for you,’ Tattie said softly. ‘When do I get to meet him?’
Natalie sat back, as if relieved of a huge burden. ‘Tomorrow night, if you and Alex would like to come to dinner.’ She sat up suddenly. ‘About Alex…surely I could—’
‘Mum,’ Tattie said firmly, ‘you leave Alex to me—I mean that,’ she warned.
Natalie blinked a couple of times. ‘You’ve got even more of Austin in you than I thought. I wonder if Alex realises what he’s up against?’
And for some reason they laughed quietly together.
Tattie was not so sanguine when she was alone, however.
So far as she could see Alex held all the cards and was determined to use them. Whilst she was holding out for him to fall madly in love with her but was seriously concerned that she might not be woman enough for him if he did.
She grimaced, shook her head and wondered if she was mad…
‘Well, well,’ Alex said that night when she told him about her mother’s impending marriage.
‘What does that mean?’ Tattie enquired, suddenly prepared to defend her mother to the death. ‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so happy.’
Alex threw his jacket over the back of a chair, pulled off his tie and pushed up his shirtsleeves. He’d been in a series of conferences all day, he’d told her, and he wasn’t looking relaxed.
‘It means what it says,’ he replied. ‘Surprise—because I thought her life revolved around you, I guess.’
‘You don’t like her,’ Tattie stated tautly.
‘When you bargain with someone over their daughter, liking them is not an emotion that comes into play. I suppose I don’t relate to her, that’s all.’
‘She can be…’ Tattie started again. ‘She really thought it was best for me.’
‘She certainly protected your interests like a tigress.’ He looked around the apartment reminiscently.
Tattie swallowed awkwardly. ‘I didn’t know about that until it was a fait accompli.’
‘I know. I mightn’t have married you otherwise.’ He moved across to the bar and poured himself a Scotch.
‘Want one?’
‘No, thank you.’ She sank onto the cream settee and pulled a pewter cushion into her lap to hug. ‘Sorry to be repetitious—but what does that mean?’
Alex finished mixing his drink and cast himself down in an armchair. ‘A mother out to get all she can for her daughter is one thing. A wife out to get all she can from her husband is another.’
‘Agreed,’ Tattie said coolly. ‘But I was bringing you two cattle stations.’
‘That remains to be seen. The marriage contract stipulates that, unless by mutual consent, what is yours remains yours and what is mine remains mine, with our children being the beneficiaries of our estates.’
‘All the same, don’t you feel you might have got your morals a little twisted, Alex?’
He put his drink down on a side-table and contemplated her out of cynical dark eyes. ‘I’ll tell you how I feel, Tattie—sick and tired of all this. I’ll tell you what I’d like to do. Have a nice, relaxing meal, perhaps a stroll through the park, and then I’d like to bring my wife home and take her to bed.’
Tattie stared at him over the top of the cushion with her lips parted.
‘I’ll tell you something else,’ he went on drily. ‘You would feel much less aggressive, combative and scratchy if you allowed me to do that.’
‘Scratchy?’ It came out hoarsely.
‘As in wanting to scratch my eyes out over an innocent remark about your mother,’ he elucidated.
Tattie cast the cushion aside and stood up. ‘You’re wrong—I’d rather die—’
‘No, you wouldn’t.’ He stood up swiftly and reached for her. ‘But if you want to go on playing girlish games with me, how about this one?’
She refused to allow herself the indignity of trying to struggle out of his arms. But her eyes were bright with anger at his gibe—because it had hit home, no doubt exactly as he’d intended. What he didn’t know was that it
had also ignited a spark within her, fast becoming a flame of desire—to show the world, Leonie Falconer and particularly Alex Constantin that she was not to be underestimated in any way but in this regard especially.
‘Girlish?’ she breathed. ‘Perhaps that’s one of the areas of me that’s a closed book to you, Alex? So let me show you otherwise.’
She slipped her hands around his neck and offered him her mouth at the same time as she moved her body sensuously against his. She was still wearing the filmy chalk-blue outfit, so there was not a lot between her skin and the hard, warm feel of his body against hers.
Nor did she allow herself to rush or be rushed. When his mouth came down hard on hers she resisted, and went to trail a line of butterfly kisses down his throat. And she opened a few more buttons of his shirt so she could slide her hands beneath it and smooth the skin of his shoulders.
‘Mmm…nice,’ she said huskily, and opened her blue eyes at him.
‘Tattie…’ He said her name in a low growl and his eyes were hard but hot.
‘Perhaps you should call me Tatiana,’ she suggested impishly. ‘I always know you’re cross with me when you do that. Although why you should be cross is a bit of a mystery.’
‘Tattie…you’re playing with fire,’ he warned.
‘You may kiss me now, Alex,’ she replied.
He held himself in check for one long, tense moment, then he did so, and she gave herself up to his mouth and his hands on her, sure and devastatingly adept at seeking her most sensitive areas.
So when she discovered herself back on the couch, but in his arms this time, and minus the bottom half of her outfit, her nipples were aching in the most divine way, her mouth was bruised and she was shivering with desire, uncaring if she’d lit a fire she now had no control over.
Because all her senses were alive and drinking in Alex Constantin: the rough feel of the end-of-the-day stubble on his jaw against the smoothness of her skin; the hard strength of his body; the heat of his desire. So much so, she was ready to surrender her virginity to him, even though she’d started this as a lesson. How ironic, she thought as he slipped her shirt off and looked down at the pale blue bra that matched her briefs.
The Constantin Marriage Page 6