Bundle of Brides

by Kay Thorpe

  The same suite, two beds. One night.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  LIANNE looked at Tyler and could determine little from his expression.

  ‘The alternative is Port Douglas.’

  An hour’s drive further north at close to midnight? I don’t think so! ‘The suite will be fine.’ Her priorities were a shower, a long cool drink, and bed. In that order.

  Within minutes they were on the correct floor and had located their suite.

  Tyler deposited both overnight bags. ‘Which bed, Lianne?’

  ‘I get to choose?’

  He sent her a quizzical look. ‘You want to debate?’

  He shrugged out of his jacket, toed off his shoes, then reached for the buttons on his shirt.

  Time to make a decision! ‘The one closest to the window.’ She crossed to her overnight bag, extracted nightwear, toiletry bag, and headed for the bathroom.

  It would be OK. Two separated adults, each sufficiently sensible to share a room without any awkwardness.

  Who did she think she was fooling?

  All day she’d been on tenterhooks, aware of everything about him, tantalised by his cologne, the way he smiled, his New York drawl. Being so close, yet so far apart. 115

  It was killing her.

  She soaped, rinsed, then towelled dry. She slipped on an oversized cotton T-shirt, brushed her teeth, drew in a deep breath, then opened the door.

  Tyler was flipping through the pages of an in-house magazine, a towel hitched at his hips.

  ‘All yours,’ she announced lightly.

  As soon as he entered the bathroom she slid into bed, switched off the bedside lamp and closed her eyes.

  Lianne was aware of the moment he re-entered the room, saw him in her mind’s eye slip between the covers, and heard the faint snap of his bedside lamp as the room was plunged into darkness.

  Was he lying awake, as she was? Listening to the silence, as aware of her presence as she was of his?

  Remembering the many nights they’d slept in each other’s arms, wrapped together even in sleep after a long loving?

  Did he crave her touch as she ached for him?

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, get a grip.

  You’re going to file for divorce. You want him out of your life.

  So why in hell did it hurt so much?

  She couldn’t want him back, surely? Mette was gone, but what if some other woman took her place?

  Go to sleep.

  Agonising over what had been was a fruitless exercise. Predicting what the future might hold seemed equally ridiculous.

  All she had to do was get through the night.

  Except sleep continued to prove elusive as she turned one way, then the other. She counted sheep, mentally reviewed the properties they’d inspected that day…correction, yesterday.

  Nothing worked. She shouldn’t have slept during the flight north. Although she doubted she could have stopped herself.

  So, what was the solution?

  If she’d been alone she’d have switched on the television and watched an in-house movie. Or flipped through one of several complimentary magazines.

  A cup of tea would hit the spot…except she couldn’t make it in the dark, and if she turned on the light it would disturb Tyler. And disturbing Tyler wasn’t an option.

  A drink? She could quietly filch something from the bar fridge.

  The heavy curtains at the window ensured the room didn’t receive a glimmer of natural night light, and she slid carefully from the bed, inched her way to the foot of it, then she calculated the distance to the console. Four steps, maybe five…

  Her toe stubbed against something hard, and she put out a hand to steady herself, found no purchase, and tumbled on to the carpet. Worse, she hit her head against something on the way down.

  ‘What the hell?’

  Tyler’s voice and the room flooding with light occurred simultaneously.

  Lianne scrambled to her feet. ‘I’m fine.’ She put a hand to her head and felt a small bump on her scalp. Strictly ouch territory.

  He was there, standing far too close as he traced the bump, saw her wince, then sought to check her vision.

  ‘I’m OK.’

  He hunkered down and checked her foot, lifting it for closer inspection, located the bruising, then he rose to his full height and took an icetray from the small freezer compartment.

  ‘What are you doing?’

  Tyler caught up a hand-towel, tipped ice-cubes on to it, made a cold pad, then applied it to her toe.

  ‘If you dare tell me I should have turned on the light, I’ll—’

  ‘Hit me?’

  He was amused, damn him! ‘That, too,’ she said fiercely, feeling impossibly angry with herself.

  ‘Couldn’t sleep?’

  Lianne didn’t answer. She was too caught up in the sight of him, his scent, the whole male package.

  He was wearing black silk briefs, when he usually slept nude. An image of his tightly muscled body taunted her. So too did the memories…

  Don’t go there.

  Except it was too late.

  Oh, God. What was the matter with her?

  ‘I’ll make some hot tea.’

  He moved to the servery, and that was worse. He had a great butt, broad back, muscular shoulders…and he was sending her crazy.

  ‘I don’t need a nurse.’ Was that her voice? She sounded like a truculent child.

  He didn’t take any notice, and that irritated the hell out of her.

  ‘Go get into bed.’

  She threw him a dark look, met his measured gaze, and capitulated. Only to gasp out loud seconds later as he stacked pillows next to her own and settled back beside her. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

  ‘Your tea.’ He handed over the cup and saucer and activated the television.

  She didn’t want him so close. Dammit, she didn’t even want him in the same room! ‘Go get in your own bed.’

  ‘Afraid, Lianne?’

  ‘Of you? No.’

  ‘Good.’ He folded his arms behind his head and gave every appearance of being engrossed in the programme.

  Lianne gritted her teeth, then she sipped the tea and opted for silence. Minutes later she set the china down on to the bedside pedestal and pretended an interest in the show displayed on screen.

  She had no recollection of falling asleep, but when she woke the room was still in darkness. Although there was a faint light behind the heavy curtains…dawn?

  She moved cautiously, remembering…her toe felt a bit sore, but it didn’t ache. Her head seemed OK. She stretched her legs, her arms, turned towards the centre of the bed…and encountered a warm male body.

  Tyler?

  He’d stayed in her bed? Slept beside her? All night?

  She had to get out of here…

  He moved, and she almost cried out, then the bedside lamp came on.

  ‘Let’s not run a repeat, hmm?’

  His voice was a lazy drawl, and she didn’t dare look at him.

  ‘I’ve ordered breakfast for six.’ He checked his watch. ‘Should arrive soon.’ He levered himself up into a sitting position in one fluid movement. ‘You get first shot at the bathroom.’ He leant towards her. ‘But first, let’s check that bump on your head.’

  There was no evading his probing fingers. ‘Hurt?’

  It did, a little. But there was no way she was going to tell him so. ‘I’ll survive.’ She slid out of bed, collected fresh underwear from her overnight bag, a fresh shirt, and crossed into the bathroom.

  Tyler crossed his arms above his head, reflecting on the pre-dawn hours when Lianne had snuggled against him in sleep. He’d ached to pull her in close and bury his mouth in the sweet curve of her neck. To caress and kiss her into wakefulness and have her slide over him, possess him in a leisurely morning ride before he took command and returned the favour.

  He never tired of her, nor she of him. She was a delight, so generous and giving…wicked. And the love of
his life.

  In one fluid movement he cast the covers aside and pulled on his clothes. He ran a wry hand over his jaw and collected his electric shaver and toiletries.

  Lianne emerged minutes ahead of the waiter, and she let him in, directed him to lay the tray on the table, signed the chit, watched as he left, then she poured coffee. Hot, sweet, and black; it was just what she needed to kick-start the day.

  Tyler joined her and they each did justice to eggs Benedict, smoked salmon, toast and drank a refill of coffee. Then Tyler caught up their overnight bags, ran a last-minute check, and summoned the lift down to Reception.

  Within minutes he’d fixed the bill and arranged for the hire car to be brought up.

  The hills surrounding Cairns were dark with heavy foliage as they headed north. Cane fields lay fallow, and there were few vehicles on the road as their car swung towards the open sea. A scenic drive as the road hugged the base of the hills, following their many curves en route to Port Douglas, an isthmus comprising four miles from the main highway north.

  Situated an hour’s drive from Cairns, the Port was a thriving tourist mecca with numerous low-rise resorts, a magnificent golf resort, seafood restaurants, trendy boutiques, cafés, and four miles of white sandy beach.

  Two properties were on the agenda. One an original cottage close to the township, the other a luxurious apartment in a fashionable complex.

  Arrangements to view both had been pre-arranged, and Lianne completed the walk through, liked each, but the cottage won out.

  ‘It’s the beach,’ she offered simply. ‘The sea, sand, the feel of it. Relaxation, where sand on the floor doesn’t matter. Some renovation and upgrading would pick it up a bit. Modernise the kitchen, bathroom, utilities. It has position, potential, the structure is solid…’

  ‘OK. We’re done.’ Tyler pulled out his cellphone and rang the pilot. ‘Let’s go.’

  They were in the air just after nine. Alysha served coffee, and Lianne made notes on her report, then sank back in her chair as Tyler worked on his laptop.

  It was a companionable silence and she began to relax as they closed the distance between Cairns and Melbourne.

  A seemingly fast trip, no stopovers, and they disembarked at Tullamarine airport to a brisk breeze and cooler temperatures.

  They cleared security, collected Tyler’s Porsche from the secure car park, and headed towards the city.

  Lianne used her cellphone to ring Chris and tell him she’d be there in an hour.

  ‘I take it Chris lives at the same address?’

  Lianne spared him a quick glance. ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘We’ll go straight there.’

  We? Her pulse went into overdrive. Have him drive up to Chris’s home? Maybe have her family see him? The innumerable questions that would follow.

  ‘If my parents see you—Chris—’ Oh, heavens. ‘It could be awkward.’

  ‘I can do awkward.’

  There was something in his tone that rang alarm bells. ‘You’re not thinking of joining us, surely?’

  ‘You object?’

  ‘Do you even need to ask?’

  ‘Tough.’

  ‘Tyler—’

  He spared her a brief glance before returning his attention to the road. ‘We attended a charity fund-raiser last week, and a legal dinner Friday night. Photographers were there, photos taken. Any one of which could be used by the media.’

  And Tyler Benedict was newsworthy, she acknowledged wryly.

  ‘Use your cellphone and alert them I’m with you.’

  ‘You’re not with me.’

  ‘You want to argue? We’re almost there.’

  Lianne made the call, heard the surprised concern in her brother’s voice, and knew awkward didn’t cover it.

  Act. Pin a smile in place and forget Tyler was there, she urged silently as he drew the Porsche to a halt in Chris’s driveway.

  Sure, and that’s really going to happen, she dismissed. Tyler was one of the most unforgettable men on planet earth.

  The front door opened and her parents were there, followed by Chris and Sharon, spilling down the footpath to greet her. Hugs, a comforting kiss, expressive concern…it was all there.

  ‘Tyler.’

  Barriers were existent beneath a façade of stiff politeness. A waiting, watching quality that spoke more volubly than words.

  Family unity was strong. Tyler understood and applauded it, and would not have wanted less for her.

  ‘Lily, Clive,’ he greeted with a degree of polite reservation. ‘Chris, Sharon.’

  Sharon broke the ice by extending her hand. ‘Tyler.’ She indicated the entrance. ‘Come through. Everything is ready out back. Shantel is asleep. But not for much longer.’

  ‘Congratulations on the birth of your daughter,’ Tyler offered. ‘Lianne assures me she’s beautiful.’

  Sharon’s smile widened and her voice acquired warmth.

  ‘Thank you.’

  It was a pleasantly warm day, and Lianne curved an arm round her mother’s waist as they reached the back steps. ‘Sharon has done wonders with the garden.’ Already there were flowers in bloom, pinks, lilacs, a splendid array of gerberas.

  ‘It’s her passion,’ Lily Marshall agreed as Clive and Chris began arguing peaceably as to who would cook.

  Along with baking, sewing, various crafts, Lianne reflected fondly. Sharon was a born mother and homemaker.

  ‘Chris is happy.’

  Lily turned towards her daughter. ‘Are you?’

  Hidden meanings and unspoken words, yet the message was clear. ‘It’s…not easy,’ she managed quietly.

  ‘I don’t want to see you hurt again.’

  Didn’t they say the first cut was the deepest? Walking away from Tyler had been the hardest thing she’d had to do. Picking up the broken pieces of her heart and patching them together ranked right up there. But she’d done it. Adding a protective shield had been a final touch.

  Now Tyler was here, invading her space, her life…and each day it became a little harder to battle her emotions.

  Did he know the inner turmoil his presence caused her?

  Without doubt.

  Clive turned as Tyler moved to stand at Lianne’s side.

  ‘What will you have to drink?’

  Each man took measure of the other, something unspoken passed between them, and Tyler indicated the beer in his father-in-law’s hand.

  ‘That looks good to me.’

  Marinated steak, crisp salads, crunchy bread eaten at an outdoor table beneath a huge shade umbrella made for a pleasant occasion.

  Shantel proved her mother wrong by remaining quiet until they finished lunch. Then, just as Sharon rose to go and check, a startled cry sounded through the baby monitor and Sharon offered a light laugh.

  ‘Perfect timing.’ She turned towards Lianne. ‘Want to come check out your niece?’

  As if there was a need to ask!

  Lianne followed her sister-in-law into the house and entered the nursery where an active baby protested volubly for a feed.

  ‘Diaper change, hmm?’ Sharon dealt with it efficiently, then she settled down in the rocking chair and put her nuzzling daughter to her breast.

  Lianne felt an envious pull deep in her belly as she observed the special bond between mother and child. ‘You make that look so effortlessly natural.’

  ‘Now, yes,’ Sharon agreed, then offered a faintly rueful smile. ‘At first I thought we’d never be in sync with each other.’

  ‘You never said.’

  ‘You weren’t exactly in the best shape at the time to share sisterly confidences.’

  ‘Was it that obvious?’

  ‘Only to those who care for you.’ Sharon’s gaze became startlingly direct. ‘What’s with you and Tyler?’

  ‘Essentially he’s here on business.’

  ‘Uh-huh. You believe the business thing?’

  ‘He has involved Sloane, Everton with the legal transactions.’

  ‘Whic
h you’ve been assigned to assist.’

  ‘There’s little correlation,’ Lianne began, only to meet with her sister-in-law’s expressive eye-roll as Sharon gently transferred Shantel to her other breast.

  ‘Then why did he accompany you here today?’

  If she revealed Tyler was ensconced in her apartment, Sharon would announce game, set and match. And it wasn’t as simple as that.

  ‘He’s a masochist?’

  Sharon shot her a quizzical look. ‘You think?’

  That was the trouble…she didn’t know what to think. Just as she imagined she had a handle on the situation, Tyler changed the boundary posts.

  ‘I think I should get to hold my niece,’ Lianne said as Sharon lifted the babe and buttoned her dress.

  ‘Prevarication?’

  ‘Just…taking it one day at a time,’ she responded as she reached for Shantel and cradled the babe against her shoulder.

  ‘OK with me.’

  Baby smells, a warm tiny body, the evidence of new life and love, Lianne mused as she encouraged a burp, following the obliging sound with a delighted laugh. ‘Oh, good girl, darling.’

  Sharon stood to her feet. ‘We should go join the others. Lily has been itching for more baby time.’

  The group of four appeared at ease as Lianne returned outdoors. The three men were engrossed in a seemingly friendly debate, while her mother busied herself serving coffee.

  Almost as if Tyler sensed her presence he turned his head, locked his gaze with hers for a few heart-stopping seconds and let his mouth curve into a smile at the sight she made cradling Shantel.

  Softened expressive features, her sapphire-blue eyes sparkling with deep affection, it was as if she had reached out and tugged at his heart.

  He wanted the reality of the image she projected. The thought of a child, their child, brought him undone. It represented the whole package…the continuation of life. Theirs and that of their children. With this woman at his side. Only her. As it was meant to be…and had been for far too short a time before a manipulative, delusional woman had sought to tear them apart.

  Had almost succeeded, he reflected, due to circumstances working against him.

  Yet he was here now, and he would allow nothing, nothing and no one to stand in his way.