The Marriage Merger

by Sandy Curtis

  Caitlin came back into the courtyard and Jenna was just about to turn away from the railing when she heard a faint cry. She turned her head slightly to better catch the sound again. There it was. A cry for help. The two children were still close to the capsized hull but they didn’t appear to be making any effort to right the vessel. The cry came again.

  Jenna scurried Caitlin back into the penthouse. She swiftly phoned the Water Police and gave details of what she’d seen, her name and phone number. She ran outside and looked for the sabot. It was drifting downstream in the swift current. The cries for help were fainter but sounding more desperate.

  She locked the door to the courtyard, told Caitlin to stay in the penthouse and under no circumstances was she to let anyone in or go out herself. She decided the elevator could be too slow and dashed down the stairs two at a time, ran through the corridor to the back door of the building and pushed it open. Within seconds she was running along the wooden jetty jutting out into the river at the back of the building.

  The water looked deep enough. She prayed it was.

  She dived.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  As Jenna sliced through the water she couldn’t hear the cries for help and the hull of the boat prevented her from seeing the children on the other side. She swam faster than she ever had and the knowledge that a child’s life could depend on her speed made her push herself even harder. The minutes ticked by and she began to think she would never catch up as the current pulled the boat further away, but finally she closed the gap.

  A boy of about eleven was valiantly trying to keep the head of a younger boy out of the water. The younger boy was lying front down in the water, his knees bent under the side of the boat, his feet not visible. The tight angle of his legs meant he was unable to turn over and float on his back. His arms thrashed the water in his efforts to keep his face clear, and the fear in his eyes was close to panic.

  Relief flooded the face of the older boy. “My brother’s foot is trapped under the boat. I can’t let him go or he’ll drown. He can’t swim.”

  “You keep him afloat,” Jenna panted. “I’ll try to free him.”

  She knew her water ballet training would allow her to stay underwater longer than the young lad. She drew a deep breath and dived. The boy’s foot was wedged under the side of the boat and trapped by rope tangled around a cleat and pulled tight around his ankle. His frantic efforts to free himself had only made the rope tighten and rub his flesh until it bled.

  Jenna pulled the rope down his ankle until finally it rolled over the heel and the foot was free. She surfaced beside the boys. Two very relieved faces grinned wearily into hers.

  “Thanks, lady,” the freed boy gasped.

  “How do you get this boat upright?” she asked. Both boys looked sheepish. “We don’t know,” the first boy admitted. “It’s our cousin’s. We’re up here on holidays. Mum went shopping with Aunt Tessa and we thought ...”

  It was obvious that what he now thought was just how much trouble they were going to be in when their mother and aunt returned and found them missing. Jenna realised they were drifting ever closer to the mouth of the river and there were no boats within sight to help them. They were still in the channel and she hoped they weren’t sharing it with any sharks.

  She was just about to tell them they would have to abandon the sabot and she would swim them back to shore when the sound of a motor caught her attention. A small cruiser was powering up the river towards them. As it slowed Jenna saw the anxious face of a burly, white-haired man.

  “Are you okay?” he called.

  At Jenna’s reply he swiftly helped her and the boys into the cruiser. He righted the sabot, clipped down the sail and tied the sabot behind the cruiser. As they moved back to shore he explained that he was a member of the local State Emergency Service and the police sergeant who took Jenna’s call was a friend of his. As the police vessel was not in the immediate vicinity the sergeant had phoned him to help.

  It was with much gratitude that the boys farewelled Jenna on the apartment building jetty. As she walked to the back door she suddenly realised that she had let it close behind her when she’d raced to the boys' rescue and it had locked back in place. She saw a movement on the other side of the glass and knocked loudly. Within seconds the door was flung open.

  “Jenna? What on earth ...”

  “Mark. I’m so glad you were here,” she sighed, immediately recognizing the fair hair and pleasant face of Jeff’s friend who’d let her into the building on her arrival.

  The surprised look on Mark’s face quickly turned to concern. “You look exhausted. Come in to my apartment and I’ll get you a towel and you can tell me what happened.”

  “I can’t,” Jenna protested. “I have to get back to Caitlin. I’ve left her alone.” She very briefly outlined what had happened since she had met him then started towards the stairs but Mark put his hand on her arm.

  “You’re wet and that will make the steps slippery. Just let me get you a towel first. And then take the elevator,” he admonished.

  He quickly disappeared inside his apartment and within seconds was draping a large white towel around her shoulders. She smiled up at him in gratitude.

  “Isn’t my pool good enough for you, Jenna? Or do you prefer the company downstairs?”

  Ice and anger mixed in equal proportions in Braden’s voice. Jenna whipped around. In his impeccable dark grey business suit, black leather briefcase in one hand and a smaller case in the other, he could have walked off the street of any major city in the world, and at any other time Jenna would have admired the striking appeal of power and raw sexuality beneath the civilized veneer. But the look of cold fury in his eyes wiped out all other thoughts.

  “Braden ...”

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing leaving Caitlin alone so you can go looking for some man to massage your neck for you!” he exploded.

  “Hey, mate, it’s not what you’re thinking,” Mark protested, his hands dropping to his sides as though they’d been scalded. And the fury on Braden’s face had turned so blazing hot it would not have surprised Jenna if they were. If she wasn’t so weary she would have blazed right back at him. Instead she turned to Mark.

  “Thank you. I’ll return the towel later.” She glared at Braden and stalked off to the elevator. Footsteps followed. Braden’s infuriated presence filled the elevator with angry vibrations as the door closed.

  “Now perhaps you’ll tell me what the hell you were doing?” he growled.

  Jenna leaned wearily against the elevator wall as it surged upwards. The door opened. Braden didn’t move. Jenna glanced at him with sudden insight. He must have thought she was behaving exactly like his mother - abandoning her child to find a man who could give her what her greedy calculating personality sought. No wonder he was so angry.

  And he was right to be angry with her about leaving Caitlin alone. But he should have asked for an explanation first. Surely he didn’t think she would do that without a good reason? Her shoulders drooped. Of course he would. All women were tainted with his mother’s selfishness in his eyes.

  She walked to the penthouse door. Braden brushed past her and unlocked it. She could feel the waves of anger pulsing from him and her own exasperation flared. She wasn’t his mother and she’d be blowed if she was going to be treated with that sort of contempt. She looked squarely into grey eyes flinted with icy steel.

  “As soon as I have a shower I’ll tell you,” she said with quiet determination. He stepped back and she walked into the lounge room. Caitlin was happily watching television. She looked up as they entered and glanced a question at Jenna.

  “Everyone’s fine, Possum. But I need a shower. Show Uncle Braden the drawings you did this morning.”

  Shampoo trickled down her nose and she ducked her head under the streaming water. Her mind was telling her to forget about Braden, close off the burgeoning love she was feeling for him and be as cool and aloof as the situation allowed. But
they were emotions that were foreign to her. Her russet hair was indicative of the fierceness of her feelings and their closeness to the surface of her being.

  That he was attracted to her was obvious, but sexual attraction wasn’t enough. He couldn’t give her the love she wanted and she had been hurt before because the man she loved hadn’t been able to love her in the same way she had loved him.

  She was beginning to feel that the nickname Jeff had given her was more accurate than he’d imagined. Jinxed by her lack of confidence in her early years and now jinxed in love. Loving the wrong man once should have been enough. The sooner her five weeks were up and she could fly home to Sydney the better. Living in such close proximity to Braden with the desire smoldering between them and Braden’s fluctuating temper was proving too wearing on her nerves. She didn’t want to love him and maybe if she didn’t see him again she could make herself forget him.

  With this last thought in mind she walked out into the lounge room. Caitlin was sitting on the floor happily drawing another picture with the crayons Jenna had bought her. Jenna could hear Braden’s deep murmur as he spoke on the telephone.

  As he walked back into the lounge room she was relieved to see the anger had left him. To her surprise he smiled at her. Then the smile turned a little sheepish.

  “That was the mother of the boys - the police gave her this number. She phoned to thank you for saving her son’s life.” His face became grave. “Apparently the older boy reckoned he wouldn’t have been able to hold his brother’s head out of the water much longer. If you hadn’t arrived when you did ...”

  Jenna shuddered, remembering the wide-eyed fear on the boy’s face. “Thank God I heard them calling.” She glanced down to see Caitlin smiling up at her as though in full agreement. Sometimes it puzzled her, the way Caitlin serenely accepted whatever she did. Jenna had never before encountered such instant and implicit trust. And she still hadn’t discovered the reason for it.

  “I realise you did what you thought was expedient at the time, Jenna, but I’m still not happy with you leaving Caitlin here by herself.” Braden’s voice was casual but she could sense his concern.

  “I gave the police this address, Braden, and also asked them to contact you if they hadn’t reached the boat in fifteen minutes. I’m not irresponsible.”

  “No,” he admitted, “you’re far from it.” He walked over to the refrigerator and took out a stubby of beer. “Would you like a beer?” he offered. “Or something else to drink?”

  She shook her head, the curls bouncing around her face in a cascade of dark flame.

  “No, thanks. I don’t drink.” She saw his curious look but he said nothing, and she was grateful. She hadn’t told him about her asthma, and she was even less inclined to inform him how badly she reacted to alcohol.

  In the past she had encountered reservations and pity from some people when she had revealed her allergic reactions and although she always put them on her medical records she had made a habit of not discussing them. Her chronic asthma had waned in her early teens, but in her early twenties she had developed acute reactions to certain triggers. But she avoided these triggers and always kept her puffer and medication handy. So she could see no need to alert anyone to a problem that might never occur.

  “A fruit juice would be nice, though,” she amended.

  He poured juice into two glasses, placed them on a tray with his beer and added a small bowl of nuts and savoury biscuits.

  “Would you ladies like to accompany me outside in the cool and fill me in on all the details?” he smiled a charming good-natured smile that had all Jenna’s thoughts of leaving flying out the window. Her treacherous heart lurched back under the spell of eyes that were growing bluer by the second. They lingered on her just a fraction of a second longer than necessary and she could feel the heady pull of his attraction.

  She took two deep breaths to steady her rapidly beating heart as she followed Braden and Caitlin out to the courtyard.

  "I've brought the video camera back with me, Caitlin." Braden said as he passed the girl her glass. "Tomorrow I'll take some shots of you and Jenna together so Jenna can send them home to show Jeff and her parents. They must be wondering what she looks like after being away from home so long. Do you think that's a good idea?"

  Jenna was pleased to see the eager smile on Caitlin's face. She glanced up at Braden and he flashed her a conspiratorial grin that wreaked havoc with her insides. Her knees turned to jelly and she sank down onto a patio chair. Oh, if only she wasn't so susceptible to him! All he had to do was smile at her and she fell under his spell.

  Braden swung his video camera around. Jenna was playing ball with Caitlin, occasionally hitting the ball a little wild deliberately so the girl would be forced to run to catch it. Her limp was still evident, but greatly diminished. It was exactly what Braden wanted to capture to show Alicia how much her daughter had improved.

  It was the first time Braden had seen Caitlin wear shorts since the accident. The scar on her thigh was still noticeable but she no longer seemed to care if people saw it. He could hardly believe the change in her. Like a drought-ravaged flower she had blossomed under Jenna’s nurturing. Her once pale, thin face had filled out and she glowed with the vitality of normal childhood.

  What a remarkable change Jenna had wrought. She obviously affected everybody she came in contact with. With a wry grin Braden included himself in that thought. When he had seen her with Mark jealousy had raged in him like a fire out of control. If he hadn’t had his briefcase and the video-camera case in his hands he wouldn’t have been able to control his urge to punch the look off the other man’s face.

  He knew the look and what it meant because it was the same way he’d felt when he first saw Jenna in a bikini. Her pale slender body with those beautiful full breasts and shapely long legs had a quality that was both ethereal and erotic, and evoked a reaction that was protective and arousing at the same time.

  He’d kissed her twice now and the effect had been so devastating he knew if he kissed her again he’d be lucky if he could stop himself doing what he’d fantasized about since he’d first seen her. His imagination started to take over again and his mouth went dry.

  The ball landed at his feet. He brought his mind back from its dangerous meanderings, picked up the ball and threw it to Caitlin. She grinned. A happy, carefree grin that he was quick enough to capture on video. And suddenly he could see a future for her. Suddenly the worry that had eaten into his consciousness day and night since Alicia’s breakdown dissolved.

  Since he was five years old he had become Alicia’s protector, guarding her from the emotional debris of their parents’ fights, showering her with the love she’d never received from their mother. When she had married he had made himself back off, not wanting to have David think he was trying to interfere. But with Caitlin’s birth he had become a doting uncle, pleased that the child was so like him, strong and determined.

  So it had proved an immeasurable frustration when she had withdrawn into herself after Alicia’s breakdown. He had always been in control before, always able to fix any problems that occurred, and for the first time in his adult life he had been left floundering, unable to find a solution for either Alicia or Caitlin. Until now. Until Jenna.

  As though sensing his thoughts she turned towards him. Their eyes met, and held. There was wariness in her gaze and he knew he was to blame. He knew he had been unfairly angry with her several times now, but the truth was he hadn’t meant to be. He was struggling to come to terms with the feelings she evoked in him, feelings he didn’t like because they left him vulnerable.

  But he was essentially a fair man, and he had resolved this afternoon that he would make an effort to see that she enjoyed her stay here. After all, it was the least he could do for her after all she had done for Caitlin.

  He suddenly realised that in three weeks Jenna would be leaving to fly home to Sydney. What surprised him was the queer sense of loss that thought brought with it.<
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  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Jenna had never felt so happy ... or so miserable.

  Braden had been incredibly nice to her for the past two days. He had even helped her to cook some of the meals, joking, laughing, involving Caitlin in the simpler chores. He had shown her a side of himself she had only guessed at before. He could so easily be all that she had ever wanted in a man. If only ...

  But there was no point in “if onlys”. Although he had been charming, friendly, and helpful, the spark that had ignited between them had been effectively extinguished. Not on her behalf. No, she still felt that quick tightening in the stomach, that shivery tingle through her body when he walked into the room, that slow liquid heat between her thighs as her eyes caressed him when he wasn’t aware.

  But for the past two days he had treated her with ... her teeth ground ... brotherly nonchalance. No spark of desire flared in his eyes. If his hand touched hers while he helped in the kitchen it didn’t linger.

  She’d tried to tell herself that this was exactly what she wanted. That this would make her stay here so much easier to bear, would make her leaving far less wrenching than if her relationship with him had developed any further. But she was lying to herself. And she knew it.

  She had just finished stacking the dishwasher when there was a knock at the door. She heard a masculine voice reply to Braden’s greeting. Mark. She bit her lip. She had meant to take his towel back to him but she'd been busy with Caitlin and when Braden was home all thoughts of Mark flew out of her mind.

  “Mark, I’ll just get your towel,” she called.

  The contrast between the two men struck her forcibly as she handed the towel to Mark. Not just the difference in their colouring, but Mark’s amiable, pleasant nature was - well, comfortable, compared to the sensual, vibrant force of Braden’s personality.