Phuong couldn't help laughing. The weight on her heart lifted. Maybe she could see her way clear to a happy future. The more she worried about her decision, the greater the chance this opportunity would vanish altogether. What did she have to lose? Her self-respect? Norman had ripped that away from her a long time ago, if she'd ever really had any in the first place. Why wait any longer?
"Yes," she said.
"Yes, I'm allowed to be your knight in shining armour? Great. I'll have to commission some armour. I draw the line at horses, though. Seems a bit weird, riding something so huge with a mind of its own. I mean, what's to stop the horse from saying, 'I'm bigger than you, and you're bloody heavy. Fuck this. I'm not carrying you anywhere,' and just throwing you off like a carton of empty beer cans and galloping off to find – "
Phuong took a deep breath, no longer paying attention to Jason's rambling. "Yes, I'll marry you."
For a moment, he was speechless, but it didn't last long. "Thank fuck for that. I'll take you into town for rings and clothes and shit tomorrow. We'll do the church on Friday." He waved up and down his clothed body. "Two days and all this will be yours. Unless you want a sample earlier? I'm all for try before you buy." He flashed a cheeky grin.
Phuong's heart fluttered at the thought as her memory favoured her with a flashback of what he kept under his clothes. She was definitely getting the better end of the deal and she knew it. "No, I can wait," she replied. It's not like she had the first idea of what to do with a man's body, as Norman had frequently told her. Perhaps Jason would be willing to show her.
After they were married, though. If he knew how bad she was in bed, the marriage would be off in a moment. She definitely didn't want that.
THIRTY-EIGHT
For the first time in months, Jason woke with the dawn. He made short work of a shower and shave. He even shrugged into a shirt before his watch told him it was 8 am. He killed twenty minutes by skimming through one of his library books: the one with the wedding in it, of course. He hadn't been to many weddings; the ones he'd crashed had been publicity stunts for adoring fans. He'd arrived, performed a song or two, posed for some photos with the couple before grabbing a drink and getting the fuck out of there. Sheila's was different because she was family, a cousin of some kind, and he'd been so off his face from the previous night's concert afterparty that he couldn't even remember the fangirl's name. Or if she gave good head.
Didn't matter. The only name he needed to remember now was Phuong's, because tomorrow she'd be his wife.
Hear that, Angel and Audra and Jo and everyone else out there? He'd be happily married to his blushing bride. They'd have a fucking fairy tale ending.
He had a list, though. One he'd made with Phuong on the table at dinner last night. He'd have liked to make other things with her on the table, but he'd agreed to wait until after tomorrow. It's not like his dick would fall off in the meantime. At least, he hoped it wouldn't.
The list. Couldn't have a wedding without the list, which read:
DRESS
SHOES
RINGS
JEWELLERY
Funny. She'd said that the only jewellery they needed was the rings – why write it twice? – but Jason had laughed and left it on the list. If Jo was anything to go by, every outfit needed matching shoes and jewellery. Especially for a wedding. He wouldn't know the first thing about picking shit that matched, but he hoped Phuong would.
He couldn't wait any more. Throwing the book down, he headed out to Reception. No need to take the hidden jungle track this time. He marched proudly down the main path, past the other villas to the foyer where he expected he'd have to wait for her, but he was wrong.
Phuong sat primly in one of the woven armchairs, from her glossy, tied-back hair to her hands (carefully clasped in her lap) right down to her side-by-side shoes. She flashed him a nervous smile when he entered, which flustered him more than anything.
He wanted to stride forward, to take her in his arms and dip her for a passionate kiss, but something in her expression stopped him. If he didn't know better, he'd swear it was fear, but how could anyone be afraid of him?
"You ready to go?" he said instead.
Phuong nodded and rose stiffly. "As ready as I'll ever be." She headed for the doors leading out to the main jetty.
One of the maintenance guys trundled a wheelbarrow down the jetty, full of something red, black and grey. Jason moved closer to the window to get a closer look at the wheelbarrow's contents. As it bumped over the uneven boards, a tail flopped out of the mess. A shark's tail. That meant...shark skin, shark bones or whatever it had, and bloody shark guts. The maintenance guy tipped the carved-up carcass into the ocean, turning the water red. Blood...oh fuck.
Jason turned away, fighting to keep his breakfast down. No way was he going anywhere near the dead shark. "Where are you going? The helipad's this way." As if to punctuate his point, the thumping beat of a helicopter rose to a crescendo as it swooped over the building.
Just like that, her fear was gone. Phuong wore a genuine smile. "We're flying?"
"Fuck yeah. I'm not driving that hell road after it tried to kill me. Enough to terrify me, that's for sure. Killer cows and crazy cops and that dominatrix matron...you wouldn't believe me if I told you." He shivered at the memory, then realised the receptionist was staring at him. "You coming or what?"
To his surprise, she crossed the room and took his hand. He didn't say anything. He just folded his fingers around her much smaller ones and held them securely. It was a start, and a promising one, too.
He didn't let go until he'd helped her into the helicopter and had to hoist himself into the tiny cabin. Sliding into the seat beside Phuong, he asked, "So, ever flown in one of these before?"
She shook her head. "Just jet planes. This is a lot smaller." She stared up at the rotors. "It's hard to believe something so small can stay in the air."
"No, what's hard to believe is that jets can fly," Shou interjected, swinging easily into the cockpit. "Huge hunks of metal, engines bigger than my baby here." He stroked the hatch before slamming it shut. "This skims almost as gracefully as the big black kites you see soaring overhead. Well, on the mainland, anyway. You don't get as many of them out here. The ospreys and sea eagles don't like them."
Phuong nodded politely and subsided.
Jason felt a flash of anger that the pilot had silenced her just when she'd started to open up. The man had no idea how hard it was to...
Her hand slipped into his, then squeezed. Jason met her worried glance. "Nervous flier?"
She nodded. "I like it better than boats, mostly because I don't get seasick in the air, but I don't really like flying."
Her grip tightened as they started their ascent, slowly cutting off the circulation to Jason's fingers as the helicopter headed south-west to fly down the Dampier Peninsula and cross Cable Beach before angling in to land at the airport in the middle of town. He waited until Phuong's full attention – and both her hands – were occupied with her headphones and seatbelt before he tried to shake the tingles out of his hand as blood flow painfully returned.
At least he wasn't the only thing she was afraid of. Boats and flying. But she'd come to the island by boat, and flown to the mainland with him. Maybe she'd manage to conquer her fear of him, soon, too. Fuck, he hoped so. Every time he saw her tongue touch her lips, he wanted to taste her, to tell her that she had nothing to be nervous about because he'd protect her from all of it and...and...something stopped him.
The pilot escorted them off the tarmac and into the tiny office that doubled as a departure and arrival lounge. "Give me a call when you need a lift home."
Jason nodded and led Phuong outside to the taxi rank.
"Where to?" the driver asked.
"Wherever you can get a wedding dress in this town." Jason climbed into the back seat after Phuong, only to find the driver staring at him. "What?" Of course he'd autograph something. As soon as the man asked him to. Any time now...
> "This is Broome, mate. No bridal shops here. The nearest one's probably in Darwin or Perth. You're better off hopping back on a plane for that 'cause I'm not driving to Darwin."
Jason recovered quickly. "Fine. Then...whatever the best dress shop here is." He glanced at Phuong. She nodded with what looked like resignation, which only irritated him. "Look, if you can't find anything decent here, I'll fly you to Perth, Darwin, wherever. Whatever you want."
"Jason." Even the way she whispered his name did things to his insides. How did she do that? Most girls only stirred a response from his cock, not the rest of him. "Jason, I can't afford a new dress. Not a proper wedding dress or anything. I spent the last money I had on fuel to get to you. I have enough money for a coffee. Maybe. But not–"
He extracted a credit card from his wallet and threw it into her lap. "Use that, then."
She shook her head. "Jason, I can't."
"Sure you can. Tomorrow, you're going to become my wife, which means half of what I own is yours. It's a dress for tomorrow, when that money's yours already. I probably owe you for petrol, too. You should have told me you were coming so I could pay for your flights or however you wanted to travel." He pulled out his phone and held it up so she could see the screen, then tapped out a sequence of numbers. "That's the PIN for that card. Keep it. I'll call the bank on Monday and get them to send you out your own cards, but that should do you until then. If not, just let me know."
"This is Chinatown. Most of the clothes shops are here, or you can go to the shopping centre on the other side of the airport," the taxi driver announced.
Jason paid him and found himself standing beside Phuong on the footpath outside a frock shop, whatever that was. It had dresses in the window display, though, and one of them definitely had her attention.
Jason took a deep breath and inhaled the scent of fresh-brewed beans. "I'll just go get a coffee. You want me to grab one for you, too?"
Phuong nodded and entered the shop. The door squeaked shut behind her, safely enclosing her in the air-conditioned cavern. She'd be safe for a few minutes, Jason decided, slipping around the corner to the café.
THIRTY-NINE
Bells chimed as Phuong entered the shop, announcing her arrival more musically than she expected.
"Can I help you?" the shop assistant asked. Her name tag announced that her name was Betty.
Phuong thought of the credit card burning a hole in her pocket. "I guess so. I need a dress to wear for a wedding tomorrow."
"What do you have in mind? Anything catch your eye?"
Phuong pointed at the window display. "I want to try that one. I'm thinking...red." When she'd been a little girl, dreaming about her future wedding, she'd always imagined herself in red like the brides back home. Would Jason want her to wear white, like a traditional Australian bride? She'd have to ask him when he returned. Not that this shop had anything that looked like a formal wedding dress.
Betty nodded. "What size?"
Phuong told her.
"Right. I'll put this in the change room for you while you have a look around. See if anything else takes your fancy."
It had been months since she last did any clothes shopping, so Phuong picked several possible dresses before inspecting the sale rack. Who knew how long it would be before Jason let her come into town again? She could hardly wear overpriced t-shirts and board-shorts from the resort gift shop all the time. Selecting a few sale items that looked like her size, she headed for the change rooms.
Phuong undressed and reached for the first hanger when she caught sight of her reflection. She'd lost weight living with Norman, that was for sure – she could see her ribs for the first time in years. It wasn't like she'd been doing much exercise, stuck in that tiny flat, but she'd been too nervous to eat most of the time. That much hadn't changed – she hadn't eaten today, either, but that was mostly because she knew the boat trip would bring it all back up again.
Maybe she'd get a muffin or something once she was done dress shopping.
Smiling, she slipped the first dress over her head. Red satin with white polka dots.
It hung off her, showing every angle while obliterating the curves she did have. No way.
Next. What was with the polka dots this season? Had she missed some event where the Duchess of Cambridge wore polka dots, and now everyone had to? This one was emerald green, though, not red.
Ugh. It flared out nicely around her hips, then narrowed again and made it hard to walk. Not to mention it made her look like she had no breasts at all.
White with seagulls. Phuong's fingers fastened the silver buttons – so many of them, all the way up – before she examined her reflection. Well, it fitted and showed that she had a figure, but white...she set it aside to show Jason, in case he insisted on making her look like a virginal bride.
The same dress again, but chequered in red and white like a tablecloth. Oh, sure, it would fit but...Norman would have approved. Buttons for easy access while matching that hideously cheerful vinyl tablecloth his mother had bought him. No. Absolutely not.
One with a red floral print. It flattened her boobs again and reminded her of her mother's favourite curtains. It could have been cut from the same cloth. No. She wouldn't get married in a tablecloth or curtains. She was a woman, not a window.
Plain red this time, which Phuong slipped over her head carefully, hoping this one would do. The tiny sleeves slid down her shoulders and sat on her arms like something out of the 1980s. No way on Earth was she wearing a wedding dress that made her look like one of her mother's bridesmaids.
That left one last dress. The one from the window display, of course. Which would look nothing like it had on the shop mannequin, so she'd be wearing seagulls to her wedding. Flying scavengers on white. If that's what Jason wanted...
Phuong slid the red dress over her head and arched back to fasten the zip. There. A perfect fit. The darts in the front made her breasts look bigger – always a plus – and the skirt flared out from her waist, like one of those dresses fairy tale princesses wore, but this was more practical, ending just below the knee. It was exactly the same colour as her favourite heels, too, so that was one thing less to buy.
No, it wasn't a formal wedding dress, but she wanted to be married in this one. It felt...right, somehow.
She pulled the elastic out of her hair and let it cascade loose over her back. Up or down? She didn't want a veil – not that she'd be able to find one here – but having her hair down would feel a little like having a veil. Maybe...
"How are you going in there? You right for sizes?"
"Fine, thank you."
"Found the one yet?"
"Yes, I think so." If Jason approved. If he didn't...
"Let's see it, then."
With trembling hands, Phuong unlocked the dressing room door and stepped out. Betty pointed at the trio of mirrors lined up against the wall, angled to give her a good view from all sides. Now she could definitely see this dress suited her better than it had fitted the mannequin. What were the chances?
"Beautiful, don't you think?" Betty asked.
Phuong opened her mouth to thank her for the compliment.
"Of course she is," Jason drawled. "I won't be able to look at anyone else tomorrow. Not that I'd want to." He gulped from his coffee cup, not taking his eyes off her.
Phuong's cheeks flamed with a blush that rivalled the brightness of her dress. "You...like it?"
"The dress looks good on you. It's a pretty dress." Another gulp of coffee. "I like the red. Bright and different and...perfect. Yeah. You look beautiful." He drained the cup.
Phuong's heart froze. No man had ever called her beautiful before. Norman had called her hot on the day they met, his eyes wearing that half-lidded look she'd soon learned meant he was thinking about sex. Jason's expression was different, though. More wonder and less lust. Definitely not what she was used to, and she wasn't sure what to make of it.
Norman had made her feel like an army of tiny cra
bs were crawling across her skin, a precursor to panic and pain. Acquisitive, possessive, hungry.
Jason made her forget everything – what she was wearing, where she stood, even who she was – because all she could think of was him, and wonder what he was thinking. He could have any woman he wanted. He would have her tomorrow, but he'd still called her beautiful, and the sincerity in his eyes said it was true. She stood a little taller at the thought. Tomorrow night, she'd stand before him without the dress, naked even, and she'd be wholly his. Would his eyes express the same approval then?
"I should get dressed," she said softly and retreated into the change room.
FORTY
"What sort of jewellery goes with that?" Jason asked in what he hoped was a casual tone, nodding at the red dress Phuong would wear in his fantasies forever. Well, where she wore anything, of course.
"I have just the thing," the shop assistant said, her eyes shining. She reached into a glass cabinet and snagged a necklace made of white beads, coated in something shiny that made them look like pearls.
Jason reached for the price tag. No way those were pearls. Plastic, maybe.
He glanced at Phuong. He recognised the blank expression – his sister, Jo, did it well. With Jo, it meant that he had to stop what he was doing, right now, or the moment they were alone she'd rip him a new one, and he'd add one more thing to the mysterious list of What Not To Do Around Women Unless You Want To Lose Your Balls.
Buying cheap jewellery was already on that list.
"No, thanks." He managed a grin for the shop assistant.
Her face fell while Phuong hid her smile.
Victory!
A few minutes later, they left the shop. He swung her bag of purchases, wondering what else she'd bought, and asked, "So, what's next? Shoes? Jeweller?"
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