Marriage on Command

by Lindsay Armstrong

  ‘Shortly after ten o’clock. You were fast asleep.’

  ‘I must have been.’ She looked comical. ‘Did…? Was…? No.’ She looked away suddenly.

  ‘Was that all right with me?’ he queried softly. ‘Yes and no. But we seemed to have agreed upon restraint so I did my best not to wake you.’

  She ran her fingers through her hair and gathered it back.

  ‘Tonight could be a different story, however,’ he said barely audibly, and raised an eyebrow at her. ‘Unless you have other ideas?’

  Lee lowered her arms and his gaze rested squarely on her breasts. He noted how the movement altered the lie of her blouse—worn without a bra for once.

  She trembled inwardly. ‘Such as?’

  ‘Such as telling the golf course to get lost.’

  ‘I…no, I don’t think that would be a very good idea. I think it will be cooler tonight, for one thing.’

  His lips twisted. ‘Cooler in one sense, certainly. I thought you always wore a bra, Lee?’

  She looked down and could see the outline of her nipples against the fine white cotton. ‘I…will from now on.’

  ‘I wish you wouldn’t.’ He sat back. ‘That wasn’t a criticism.’

  Lee looked around, but no one was looking their way or appeared to be tuned into their conversation. And perhaps something about the sheer beauty of Tamanu was liberating. She didn’t know, but she picked up her wine glass, swallowed the last of the chilled contents and said huskily, ‘All the same, there should still be a lovely moon tonight.’

  He raised one eyebrow thoughtfully. ‘That sounds—promising.’

  She smiled a secret little smile and told him she would like a cup of coffee, a bit of time to digest her lunch—and then she would be ready for golf.

  The other new dress Lee had purchased in Vila was white, short, sleeveless, with a square neck and buttoned down the front. She’d tucked a hibiscus in her hair for dinner, but although feeling she looked the part—chic but casual and cast-away, in tune with Tamanu—she hadn’t eaten a lot.

  She had no illusions as to why her appetite appeared to have deserted her.

  The golf had been fun, the swim afterwards heavenly, and all through it they’d been friendly and playful with each other. They’d barely got back from the beach when they’d been invited to have pre-dinner drinks with the manager of the club and his wife, and that had been enjoyable too. All the same there had been a spiralling core of tension within her. And what had generated it was the way Damien’s dark eyes had rested on her from time to time.

  He had barely touched her all afternoon, had said nothing particularly intimate, but at the same time he had deliberately increased the sensual tension between them in a way that had been almost tangible—to Lee, at least. And she’d got quieter and quieter beneath this mysterious onslaught, less and less sure of herself, with the odd notion that he had turned into a stranger before her eyes.

  Now, as she stood on the cool white tiles of their bungalow, watching the moon rise through the French doors, she found she couldn’t speak at all—so much for her cool, come-hither approach at lunch.

  Damien had not bothered with lights when they’d come in, but had lit one candle on the bedside table, and in its flickering glow he stood before her—tall, dark and somehow dangerous.

  ‘The time has come, my lady,’ he said very quietly.

  She swallowed, and didn’t realise that she looked like a wide-eyed, startled fawn about to bolt…

  ‘May I?’ He touched the top button of her dress.

  ‘I…’ she temporised—to gain time? she wondered. Then she knew there was no escaping—she didn’t even know what she was afraid of, other than the electric charge that was between them and the sheer power of it. ‘Yes…’ she whispered.

  He freed each button carefully and the dress slid to the floor, revealing her figure in a white lacy bra and high-cut bikini briefs.

  An absent smile twisted his lips and he ran his fingers beneath the lace that covered the tops of her breasts. ‘Old habits die hard.’

  She licked her lips. ‘Lunch taught me a lesson, I guess.’

  He undid the bra and slid it off, then stopped touching her. ‘Why are you looking like this, Lee?’

  ‘Like…?’

  ‘Petrified,’ he said quietly.

  She breathed raggedly but couldn’t answer.

  ‘I thought, if nothing else, you trusted me.’

  ‘I do. I…it’s strange.’ She tried to articulate her feelings. ‘I’m filled with fear…and longing at the same time. I don’t know why.’ Or did she? she wondered.

  ‘Perhaps I can help,’ he said after an age. He’d been staring intently into her confused green eyes with a frown in his own, but now he looked briefly down her body, the flickering candlelight casting tantalising shadows on the slim, golden length of her, and left her for a moment to gather her short robe from a hook in the bathroom.

  Surprise lit her eyes as he helped her into it and belted the soft green cotton at her waist. Then he took her hand and led her to the bed, already turned down for the night. She hesitated, then lay down, and he left her again—but only to pull his shirt and trousers off and pull on a pair of pyjama bottoms. Then he climbed in beside her and took her loosely in his arms.

  ‘You know where I went wrong?’ he said softly. ‘I didn’t like to think you could resist me at lunch. I don’t mind preaching restraint, but I’m not at all keen on the thought that you can actually practise it. Correspondingly…’ He paused. ‘I’ve spent the rest of the damn day trying to punish you for your serenity and restraint without even realising it—realising I was frightening the life out of you by building this up into a monumental encounter of some kind, with a stranger.’

  Lee trembled in his arms, amazed at his honesty and understanding. But was that all of it? she wondered.

  ‘So,’ he said, and stroked her hair rhythmically, ‘will you let me make amends for being a monumental fool?’

  ‘Yes, please,’ she whispered, and felt herself relaxing for the first time for hours. ‘But I feel like a bit of an idiot. It’s not as if I’m a scared virgin.’

  ‘More of a virgin than you suspect,’ he said, then added immediately, ‘No, don’t ask me to explain—and it has nothing to do with you being a less than delightful lover, should your mind make the kind of quantum leap it has a habit of doing.’

  Lee was silent for a moment, then she laughed quietly. She lay in his arms and felt warmed and cherished as he caressed her very gently. Then she sat up and pulled her robe off.

  ‘If I was nervous before, I’m something quite different now,’ she murmured, and she bent to touch her lips to his and brush her breasts against the wall of his chest.

  ‘Sure?’

  ‘Oh, yes. See for yourself.’

  He did more. He stripped her panties off and explored the secret, most sensitive depths of her. Then he pulled the pillows up behind him and eased her on top of him in a sitting position.

  She gasped as he entered her, tightening her fingers in the dark springy hair of his chest as he alternately played with her nipples and cupped her bottom. ‘That’s…lovely,’ she said huskily.

  ‘You’re lovely,’ he responded. ‘It would be hard to know what my preferences are in regard to you, Lee. Breasts, bottom, legs—they’re all gorgeous, my lady—sorry, strike that!’

  ‘No, don’t strike it. I like it now,’ she breathed. ‘And I like this…too much,’ she added as he moved. ‘May I come down before…?’

  ‘Be my guest,’ he murmured, and drew her into his arms. ‘It’s not exactly easy for me either…well, see what I mean?’

  ‘Yes,’ she gasped as they moved as one, and then all she could do was bury her face in his shoulder as they were carried away on a higher tide than even Damien had brought to her before.

  ‘I didn’t…did I?’ she asked cautiously, some time later.

  He tightened his arms about her spent body and kissed her. ‘Yodel? N
o.’ He sounded amused. ‘Did you feel like it?’

  She was silent for a moment. ‘No,’ she said at last. ‘Nothing is good enough to…salute that.’ She shuddered in his arms just at the memory of it. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘You have a strange notion of where thanks are due, Lee.’

  She lifted her head and regarded him gravely. ‘There may be a lot of things you can dictate, Damien, but where I place my thanks is not one of them.’

  ‘Lee—’

  ‘Don’t argue,’ she recommended. ‘However…’ she turned away from him, although stayed within reach ‘…if you would like to hold me while we fall asleep, that would be acceptable.’

  He sat up and bent over her. ‘Yes, ma’am. On the condition that I’m allowed to kiss you goodnight first.’

  Lee sighed theatrically. ‘That’s like always having to have the last word!’

  ‘On the contrary. I will feel…unfinished otherwise.’

  She turned slowly. ‘I think you’re teasing me.’

  He trapped her between his arms. ‘Perish the thought.’

  She looked into his dark, wicked eyes, and was surprised when they suddenly sobered. ‘What now?’ she asked hesitantly.

  He took his time.

  The disarray of her hair was gorgeous against the pillow, the green of her eyes soft in the candlelight. He turned his head and blew the candle out, and after a while their eyes adjusted to the silvery moonlight flooding into the room.

  ‘I just wanted to say—thank you, my lovely moon-maiden.’ He kissed her and she clung to him, exceptionally moved.

  The flight home was smooth and they came into Brisbane over the South Passage Bar—Damien pointed out Day’s Gutter on Moreton Island.

  During their second day and night at Tamanu and on the flight they’d discussed nothing beyond the present. But their closeness had been special. It was only now, as the aircraft descended over Moreton Bay, that Lee had to wonder what the future held.

  ‘It’s Friday,’ Damien said as the wheels touched down. They were holding hands.

  ‘About nine o’clock in the morning?’

  He agreed with a smile twisting his lips. ‘I have to go into the office for a few hours. What would you like to do?’

  ‘I should think about getting home somehow—’

  ‘No.’ His fingers tightened over hers. ‘We’ll go down together tomorrow. Why don’t you relax in the apartment? I’m going there first anyway.’

  ‘All right,’ she said, after a moment’s thought that had produced a blank mind.

  He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. ‘Trust me, Lee,’ he said quietly.

  But there was a surprise waiting for them at the apartment.

  Damien unlocked the door and frowned as the aroma of freshly made coffee assailed their nostrils. ‘Who…?’ He stopped, then ushered Lee over the doorstep. ‘It’s got to be Melinda, my sister. I told you about her.’

  ‘Damien…’ Lee hesitated, then it was too late.

  A tall, dark woman came swiftly into the foyer. She was as good-looking in her own way as her brother, and quite a lot like him—that same air of assurance. She was beautifully dressed in a turquoise linen dress that shouted couturier, exquisitely groomed, and she moved on a wave of French perfume.

  ‘Damien!’ she said delightedly, then stopped as if shot as her gaze fell on Lee. ‘Is this…? Is this…?’

  ‘This is Lee, Mel—my wife,’ Damien said simply.

  ‘Oh, dear! I mean…’ Melinda swallowed visibly. ‘I’m so pleased to meet you, Lee. Mother told me all about you…but…you’re the last person I expected—I mean…’ She stopped helplessly.

  Damien eyed her sardonically for a moment. Then he drawled, ‘Things have changed since I last discussed them with our august parent, Mel. Lee and I have just come back from our…honeymoon.’

  Melinda looked truly appalled. Then she said in a frantic undertone, ‘But I’ve got Julia here!’

  Damien swore. ‘What the bloody hell for?’

  ‘I…I…she rang me and asked if she could come up for a chat. I’m only down for a couple of days and I’ve got wall-to-wall meetings—this is the only free time I had.’

  Damien swore again, and turned to Lee. ‘This could call for SWAT mode, my dear. Don’t look like that,’ he added softly. ‘You didn’t really think I was going to let you go, did you?’

  ‘But…but…’ Lee stammered.

  ‘Just be yourself,’ he recommended.

  ‘But who is she?’ Lee asked desperately.

  ‘Don’t you remember? She’s the person my mother so helpfully filled you in about.’

  It was hard to know who was more discomfited at first.

  Julia Blake-Whitney was another tall, elegant woman, although blonde, with that innate air of assurance, exquisite grooming and the kind of clothes that wouldn’t look out of place on a Chanel catwalk.

  And although her poise deserted her upon being introduced to Lee, it was only briefly.

  Melinda was definitely discomfited as she fussed about, insisting on making more coffee. And Lee was tongue-tied for the first few minutes as she watched Julia regain her poise. Only Damien exhibited no signs that this meeting was in any way awkward.

  He strode forward to greet Julia with his hand outstretched and a faint smile playing on his lips. ‘Julia, this is Lee,’ he said. ‘I guess Melinda has filled you in—or perhaps you saw the write-up of Ella’s famous Gilligan’s Island party?’

  Julia Blake-Whitney dazedly shook his hand and agreed disjointedly that she had. She then looked directly at Lee, taking in her jeans and pink blouse, her complete lack of make-up and loose hair. She blinked twice.

  Lee barely managed to refrain from looking down at her clothes herself. At least her jeans were new, and her pink blouse quite acceptable, and instead of her inevitable boots she wore a pair of polished leather moccasins. But she felt light years away from these two polished, perfumed, obviously sophisticated women, and thoroughly self-conscious for a while.

  It was Damien who held the fort. He sprawled out in an armchair, accepted a cup of coffee from his sister and told them all about Vanuatu.

  Julia recovered first. She had been to Vanuatu twice and was able to swap experiences, which she did so animatedly, giving Lee a glimpse of the vital personality to match her golden good looks and beautiful, expressive grey eyes. In fact the thought slid across Lee’s mind that Julia Blake-Whitney was a perfect match for Damien Moore…

  Then Julia said smoothly, although with a distinct hint of irony, ‘I’m sure it’s a great place for a honeymoon, however belated.’

  Talk about being caught on the horns of a dilemma, was Lee’s next thought. I haven’t agreed to anything yet—I don’t even know what Damien has in mind—I’m still reeling from being told he has no intention of letting me go…and now this ex-lover of his is testing me out!

  ‘It was lovely,’ she heard herself say. She paused and thought of Erakor and Tamanu, and drew strength from her memories. She smiled suddenly. ‘Even although it was a belated honeymoon, I’ll never forget it.’

  True enough, she thought in the sudden little silence her words produced, and take that, Julia Blake-Whitney, even although you may not deserve it!

  Melinda sprang into the breach. She looked at her watch and groaned. ‘Sorry, but I have to fly!’ She stood up.

  Julia did the same. ‘I’ve got an appointment as well, so I really should make a move. Well, Damien.’ She turned to him. ‘All best wishes! And of course to you too, Lee.’

  Damien rose. ‘I’ll see you out, Julia. Hang on a moment, Melinda.’

  Melinda sank back and watched Damien and Julia walk out. Then she turned her dark eyes to Lee and said helplessly, ‘Mum…she told me it was a marriage of convenience. She also told me to stay out of it. Apparently Damien warned her off pretty brutally. Then Julia rang me on my mobile last night. She thought I was in Cairns, but I was here collecting my things, and she asked if she could just come and
have a chat—we went to school together. I feel terrible! But—’

  ‘You weren’t to know,’ Damien supplied dryly, coming back into the lounge.

  Some spirit sparked in Melinda’s dark eyes. ‘No, I was not, Damien! We all felt you and Julia would get back—’ She stopped and bit her lip, then looked rebellious again. ‘If you didn’t keep us in this fog of ignorance, it mightn’t have happened.’ She turned to Lee, ‘Lee, forgive me. But that is the truth of the matter. However, welcome to the family!’

  Lee had risen, and Melinda walked over to her and hugged her awkwardly. Then she stood back and said with some humour, ‘I may not know what’s going on, I may have put my foot in my mouth several times—but I do mean that.’

  Ten minutes later, Melinda had departed.

  ‘She’s nice,’ Lee murmured as the door closed on Damien’s sister.

  He shrugged and looked irritable for a moment.

  ‘It could have happened to anyone,’ Lee offered.

  His look changed to one of wryness. ‘It could only happen to my sister or my mother. Did you mean what you said?’

  Lee didn’t pretend to misunderstand. ‘About never forgetting Vanuatu? Yes. But—’

  ‘Lee,’ he forestalled her, ‘I meant what I said.’

  She turned away from him, but he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her back. ‘I’m sorry if it came out dictatorially, I’m sorry we haven’t discussed it before, but you were the one who didn’t want to.’

  She looked up into his dark eyes. ‘Why did they think you and Julia would get back together?’

  His fingers dug into her shoulders for a moment. ‘I have no idea,’ he said shortly, then set his teeth for a moment. ‘Julia and Melinda have been friends for years and years; I suppose that’s why Mel wanted it. And I told you what my mother’s main aim in life for me is—to carry on the name.’

  ‘There must have been more to it than that,’ Lee said quietly. ‘You must have been good together, you and Julia. I’m sure neither your mother nor your sister would want you to marry someone you didn’t love.’

  He started to say something, then paused and studied her intently. ‘We were,’ he said at last, ‘to all intents and purposes the ideal couple, Lee. She’s a scratch golfer, her family breeds horses on a famous stud, she’s also a lawyer, and I can’t deny that we were together for two years. But there was something missing that I couldn’t put my finger on—something that always stopped me from asking her to marry me. I still don’t know what it was but when she forced the issue, I backed out as decently as I could.’