Marriage on Command

by Lindsay Armstrong

  It was as if a force she had no control over was gathering within her, propelling her to take her hands off the rail and put them on his shoulders or, even worse, to kiss him. Her breath caught in her throat at the thought and a tide of hunger ran through her. She might look like a boy at the moment, but she’d never felt more like a woman in her life, or been more aware of a man. All her senses were under siege and she felt fragile and vulnerable because of it.

  Helpless, she thought chaotically, under the impact of Damien Moore in all his glory—and there was so much glory in him for her. Not only that strong, elegant body, but the way his hair sometimes fell in his eyes, the way those eyes laughed at her, his hands, and the mental vision she often simply couldn’t conquer of those hands on her slender body…

  ‘Lee?’

  Her green eyes focused to see him looking up at her narrowly, and she took a deep breath. ‘Uh…’ It took quite a mental wrench to remember what they’d been saying, as well as her distinct reservations about spending time lunching and swimming with him. But, really, what difference was there between doing that with him at Byron Bay and having breakfast with him at Plover Park?

  ‘All right,’ she said, and added, striving for a casual approach, ‘Sounds cool.’

  He smiled absently and his dark eyes lingered on her face for a moment more. Then he straightened and looked at the tractor. ‘I haven’t driven one of those for years.’

  Lee’s lips twitched. ‘Be my guest. I’ll hop on the carry-all.’

  ‘I don’t want to usurp all your—’

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ she advised. ‘I get the feeling you and Bill are kindred spirits in all things mechanical, and to be honest, the pedals are so stiff on this ol’ thing—’ she patted the red bonnet of the tractor ‘—my legs sometimes feel as if they’re going to seize up!’

  He climbed aboard with a grin and she hopped onto the carry-all. Several hours later she was seated beside him in the Porsche, a vastly superior conveyance…

  As she’d got ready for the outing she’d experienced more mental turmoil. Her wardrobe left a lot to be desired; her desire to look chic and glamorous and definitely not like a boy left a lot to be explained…

  In the matter of clothes she’d finally found a short camellia-pink shift she’d forgotten she owned so long was it since she’d last worn it. But combined with a pair of white sandals and gold hoop earrings in her ears it would do for Byron Bay, which ran the gamut of smart-casual to hippie grunge. She’d put it on over her pale green bikini and packed a towel, sunscreen and a peaked cap into a raffia holdall. She’d left her hair loose and put a pair of sunglasses on the top of her head.

  A parade in front of her bedroom mirror had been reassuring. One thing that never let her down was her hair. She’d thought of washing it, but as she’d be swimming it seemed a waste of time. And the dress looked OK. Simple but cool, a lovely colour, and it showed off her legs. Then she had stopped parading in front of the mirror and sat down on the end of the bed to chew her lip anxiously.

  Here was she, Lee Westwood, going through all the conventional motions of a girl wanting to impress a man. The should-I-wash-my-hair? motions; the is-this-the-right-dress? indecision; the do-I-need-to-shave-my legs? tizzy. And all for a man she definitely should not want to be impressing.

  The thing is, I can’t seem to help myself, she had thought sadly. But I am not being helped by this proximity, and I’m not being helped by Damien himself. There’s no need to touch me, no need for him to tantalise me, no need for double entendres—no need, come to think of it, for him to be so damn perfect! But…did I bring it on myself to a certain extent? With my little black dress, for example, and the dancing display I gave?

  A toot from the Porsche had brought her out of her reverie. She’d picked up her holdall and sallied forth.

  Now, as the Porsche ate up the scenic hilly miles between Plover Park and Byron Bay, often lined with macadamia plantations, Damien explained the rationale behind his decision to open a branch there.

  ‘We get a lot of Northern New South Wales business in Brisbane—the nearest big city, but across the border in the state of Queensland. There are differences in state legislation, though—particularly in conveyancing, for example. So an office here, with solicitors here conversant with New South Wales legislation, makes sense.’

  ‘I see. I did wonder about that,’ she replied.

  He looked at her wryly. ‘Now you know. Did you think it was devious machination on my part to worm my way into Plover Park?’

  She grimaced. ‘Not really. Well, serious consideration told me you’re too good a businessman and lawyer for that kind of thing.’

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘That kind of thing?’

  She glanced at him, and to her amazement, heard herself say, ‘Apart from that, I guess you wouldn’t have to go to those lengths for a woman anyway.’

  ‘That is setting the cat amongst the pigeons, Lee,’ he remarked after a moment as he turned off the Pacific Highway to take Ross Lane down to the coast.

  Don’t I know it? she thought, and wished she’d bitten her tongue. She gestured a little awkwardly. ‘What I mean is, I’m absolving you of any…suspicious ploys,’ she brought out, ‘in relation to myself.’

  He laughed softly. ‘Despite the fact our morals—for want of a better term—get a bit carried away at times?’

  She bit her lip and felt herself colour. ‘Perhaps,’ she said slowly, ‘I’m to blame for that. I mean, I may have flung down the gauntlet a bit.’

  ‘As in issuing a challenge—unwittingly, of course?’ he suggested dryly.

  ‘Damien…’ She thought for a moment, then she said stubbornly, ‘Putting on an act in public is one thing.’ She looked out of the window to stare at the flat green fields of sugar cane now flying past. ‘Letting it flow into our private times is another.’

  ‘Lee,’ he returned flatly, ‘it’s there. I’m with you in that it’s probably not a good idea—I was thinking that this morning, as a matter of fact—but it’s already happened.’

  Her lips parted soundlessly. Then she swallowed. ‘Are you saying you now find me a bit more interesting than the kitchen sink?’

  He looked amused. ‘I always found you more interesting than the kitchen sink. To be honest, I found it quite refreshing that you found me no more interesting than the kitchen sink, but I can’t help knowing that is no longer the case.’ He turned his head to study her comprehensively then, as she blushed scarlet, switched his dark gaze back to the road with a shrug that said eloquently—I rest my case.

  When she could recover a sliver of composure, she said unevenly, though she’d hoped to be airy, ‘Of course, there are degrees beyond the kitchen sink. It’s still a long way to the bedroom—they probably couldn’t be further apart, speaking metaphorically.’

  They came to the intersection of Ross Lane and the Byron Bay/Ballina road. Damien cruised to a stop and waited for the traffic. Then he turned left as he said, ‘On the other hand—’ he glanced pointedly down at her legs ‘—when you’re married, there’s little distance at all between the bedroom and the kitchen.’

  ‘No!’ she said with some force. ‘Not in my house—’

  ‘Our house.’

  ‘Not there either. I may rush in where angels fear to tread at times, but you only need eyes in your head to know that I’d be joining a very long queue of women you’ve discarded, Damien!’

  His lips twisted. ‘My mother is prejudiced, and her version of this long queue is coloured by the fact that she’s dying to have grandchildren—if that’s what you’re basing this on.’

  ‘It wasn’t only your mother! It’s your spare bedroom as well.’

  ‘My…?’ He looked at her uncomprehendingly, then enlightenment began to dawn.

  ‘I know it’s none of my business,’ Lee said stiffly, wishing to heaven she could learn to guard her tongue, ‘but—’

  ‘You mean the clothes and stuff in there?’ he queried gravely.
>
  She nodded. ‘Does she know you’re married now?’ she asked with irony.

  ‘No, she doesn’t. Well, unless our beloved mother has passed on the news. But I haven’t heard anything from her, so I guess not. She could be away, though.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter where she is—’ Lee stopped short. ‘Our beloved mother?’

  He started to laugh at her expression. ‘Yes. All that gear belongs to my sister Melinda. She lives in Cairns but she often comes down to Brisbane for conferences. She manages the Cairns branch of a department store chain. And since the ancestral home was shut up while our parent was overseas, Melinda used my apartment and kept a set of clothes there. That’s all.’

  ‘I beg your pardon,’ Lee said in deeply mortified tones.

  He didn’t comment for a moment, then, with a lurking smile, ‘If you’d mentioned it at the time I could have saved you some …discomfort, Lee.’

  There was absolutely nothing Lee could find to say to this.

  ‘Here we are.’ He nosed the car into a parking spot beneath the famous hoop pines of Byron Bay.

  Lee blinked. Such had been her embarrassment she hadn’t noticed they were driving through Byron Bay.

  Damien switched off. ‘I thought we’d get the office bit out of the way first, then have a swim and lunch. OK with you?’

  ‘Uh…fine. Yes, that’s fine.’

  ‘Good,’ he said gravely. ‘There’s no need to look so shell-shocked.’

  She stared back at him in the close confines of the Porsche and licked her lips uncertainly. He smiled briefly and touched a fingertip to her mouth. ‘Let’s go.’

  The office Damien was leasing was upstairs in a two-storeyed building on the main street. The entry was through a shopping mall. The building was modern, but the previous occupiers of the suite of offices had gone for a peach-pink decor throughout that in no way resembled the hallowed halls of Moore & Moore in Brisbane.

  The interior decorator was there to meet them, a striking but languorous-looking brunette in her early thirties. She lost a lot of her languor when Damien introduced himself, however, and flicked Lee a look of surprise when she was introduced as Damien’s wife. She then proceeded to ignore Lee completely as she presented Damien with sketches of her vision for his new branch office.

  At first Lee, still grappling with the embarrassing blunder she’d made and all the revelations of the morning, was too distracted to care about being ignored. Then she took offence.

  ‘If you ask me, we’re going a bit overboard, don’t you think, darling?’ She picked up a sketch board and studied it. ‘I know Byron is a seaside town, but this looks like the inside of an aquarium. And this one…’ She stared at an austere black and white decor, even down to a black and white tiled floor. ‘This reminds me of a bathroom or a railway station.’

  Damien eyed her narrowly for a moment, then he said blandly, ‘What do you suggest, my love?’

  ‘Off-white walls, terracotta tiles—and if you want some local flavour there’s a factory right here in Byron that produces stunning woodwork, so you could have the counter in the reception area custom-made for you with a lovely curved top. Uh…’ She looked around. ‘A couple of terracotta leather Barcelona couches—they’re so practical, but spare and elegant—and…’ she pointed to a corner ‘…a display of potted palms. I could do that for you. Simple, but classy!’

  ‘Mrs Moore—’ the interior decorator began, but Damien cut her off.

  ‘I think my wife is more in tune with my ideas. Thank you for your time.’

  ‘Wow!’ Lee said as they walked towards the beach. ‘If looks could kill I’d be six feet under by now. But thank you for your support, Mr Moore.’

  ‘It’s the least I could do,’ he said wryly. ‘But you do realise you’ve got yourself another job? I like the sound of it very much, by the way, although I have no idea what a Barcelona couch is.’

  They stopped in the park above the beach. ‘Oh.’ Lee’s hand flew to her mouth then she turned to Damien urgently. ‘There’s no way I could design a whole set of offices. I mean colour schemes and the reception area are one thing, but the rest of it—’

  ‘Don’t worry about the rest of it. I can get an office equipment design firm to handle desks, storage, filing systems, et cetera. If you can supply the simple classiness you described, that’s all I need. Of course there would be a fee involved as well.’

  Lee took a deep breath, then shook her head. ‘Let me think about it.’

  ‘What’s to think?’ He took her hand.

  She looked up at him and blinked several times. ‘All sorts of things,’ she said barely audibly. ‘So much so that what I really need now is a swim, then lunch.’

  He kissed her knuckles. ‘All right.’

  ‘That was divine!’ Lee said half an hour later as she came out of the water. The surf had been gentle but refreshing, and it was a glorious beach.

  They reached their towels and Lee picked hers up and started to dry her hair. ‘I don’t know why I don’t come here more often,’ she said whimsically.

  Damien grimaced. ‘Too busy?’ he suggested.

  ‘Well…’ Lee spread her towel on the sand and sat down. ‘The harder I work, the better it is for your investment in the place.’

  ‘True,’ he agreed, and sat down beside her. ‘You’re very responsible and mature in some ways, Lee.’

  She knew she shouldn’t ask it, but she couldn’t help herself. ‘What areas am I not responsible and mature in?’

  He let his dark gaze flicker over that surprisingly delicious body, made more so at the moment by being sleek and wet and scantily clad.

  But just as Lee was anticipating some remark on her appearance, and starting to feel embarrassed about the reactions that dark gaze was evoking in her—a goosebump-reaction that was rather lovely coupled with a sincere appreciation of his powerful physique—he spoke.

  ‘You can be impetuous.’

  She relaxed a little. ‘I’m told I take after my mother and grandfather in that respect. But I generally act out of the best and purest motives.’

  He raised an eyebrow and looked amused. ‘Doesn’t stop you from getting into trouble from time to time, I imagine.’

  Lee looked at him. He’d stretched out on his towel and had his head propped on his elbow. In navy board shorts, he was dark, and divinely proportioned, and just to look at him gave her a strange feeling at the pit of her stomach. She closed her eyes, then reached for her glasses and put them on. ‘True,’ she agreed judiciously. And never more so than in relation to yourself, Damien Moore, she felt like adding, but restrained herself.

  She realised suddenly that it was just too much for her to be exposed to him like this—or to have him exposed to her… Whatever, she thought a little wildly, and jumped up to pull her dress from her bag and draw it over her head. ‘I’m starving,’ she said humorously as she struggled with the dress. ‘And I can be quite dangerously impetuous when I’m hungry.’

  He sat up. ‘As in?’

  ‘As in needing to eat a horse!’

  He laughed, stood up with a powerful but easy grace and pulled her dress down for her. ‘Or…doing something else altogether?’

  Her glasses were down around her chin and she felt she was in utter disarray. Not only because of her tangled hair and glasses, but because he had obviously divined her state of mind. She could see it in the wickedness of his falsely grave look as he smoothed her dress and positioned her glasses on top of her head.

  ‘However,’ he continued, ‘let’s concentrate on soothing the savage breast with some food. I, as it happens, am…starving too.’

  He turned away as she grappled with all the innuendoes, to pull his shorts and shirt on. She was still frowning when he turned back, and standing stock still as if frozen to the beach.

  ‘Lee,’ he said lightly, and took her hand. Then he paused, as if at some source of inner amusement, and said only, ‘Let’s go.’

  They found a table at the Beach Hotel,
on the terrace beneath an umbrella, and ordered lunch. She was sipping a long, cool drink and he had a beer, which he raised in salute to the beach and the ocean. ‘Byron at its best. You know, I didn’t realise that woman was ignoring you.’

  She grinned. ‘The interior decorator? That’s because you’re not used to thinking of me as your wife.’

  ‘True.’ He drank some beer. ‘I also didn’t realise you had opinions in the matter.’

  ‘Neither did I,’ Lee confessed. ‘I guess it was a combination of being so comprehensively dismissed not only as a fitting partner for you but also as someone who had no taste that got me going.’

  He looked humorous. ‘Perhaps I should advise people that my wife can be a tiger under certain circumstances.’

  Lee laughed. ‘Can I really?’

  He sat back. ‘Cosmo seems to be the only person you have a problem with.’

  Before Lee could answer, the electronic paging device telling them their meal was ready buzzed, and Damien got up to collect it.

  It wasn’t until Lee was halfway through her delicious grilled swordfish, chips and salad that they took up the threads of their conversation. ‘I do have a problem with Cosmo,’ she admitted. ‘He not only gives me the creeps, I’m sure he’s dangerous. Has he…what’s the term?…filed a suit against us?’

  ‘No. He could be assessing this latest development, though.’

  Lee shivered.

  But Damien smiled coolly. ‘In one way I hope he proceeds, although I doubt he will, just for the pleasure of instructing someone exactly how to demolish him. He may think he can frighten you into wanting to give Plover Park back, but he doesn’t frighten me in the slightest.’ For a moment he looked so thoroughly authoritative and tough Lee’s eyes widened.