Then it occurred to her that perhaps the one lesson she could learn from Chantal was, if a man let you down, you picked yourself up and moved on. And she fell asleep thinking of going to the Melbourne Cup…
Since they were going straight to Flemington racecourse by helicopter from Tullamarie airport, Ellie dressed for the races before she left home, although she carried her hat. She also carried a raincoat because the Melbourne weather was notoriously fickle and renowned for producing all four seasons in one day.
But it was a beautiful day as they stepped onto the hallowed turf of Flemington, the roses were glorious, the crowd already huge and the buzz of excitement in the air was incredible—and infectious. Ellie started to feel excited herself and very pleased she’d splurged on a new outfit and hat as they were ushered into the members’ stand.
Not only on her own account was she pleased—Brett was looking particularly distinguished in a blue suit, a crisp white cotton shirt and the club tie. His bruised finger was the only finger now bandaged and encased in a leather finger-guard. He had also commented flatteringly on her outfit. And he was an attentive companion. But something else came home to Ellie during the afternoon. He’d always played his background down and, while she knew it was wealthy, she hadn’t realized the extent of it or how influential it was.
Now, she couldn’t doubt it as many obviously wealthy and influential people greeted him delightedly, people who hadn’t seen him for five years but remembered him well.
However, all of these impressions sank beneath the sheer excitement of the races; the august privileges of being in the members’ stand such as being able to get into the mounting yard to watch the horses parade; to actually touch and smell the roses that lined it and the corridor that led to the track. And she partook of a champagne lunch as the tension in the air grew and finally it was time for the big race.
She made her selection, backed the horse she liked and they climbed up into the stand to watch the pre-Melbourne Cup festivities. Against the background of the city of Melbourne, there were skydivers who landed on the track, there was a pipe band that paraded up and down the track; there were the weird hats and outfits amongst the huge—over a hundred thousand people—hugely good-humoured crowd. And finally, the horses.
‘Oh, I’m so excited!’ She bounced up and down in her chair. ‘What have you backed?’
He looked at her wryly. ‘I’ve never seen you like this, Ellie. Uh—’ He told her which horse he’d backed.
‘Very wise,’ she commented.
‘You know something I don’t?’
‘Not a thing!’
‘So?’
‘I backed it too, for the princely sum of five dollars—because I like the name.’ She bestowed a beatific smile on him. ‘Brett,’ she said on a sudden thought, ‘talking horses, are you going to get back into polo?’
His expression changed rather drastically for a moment, then he said simply, ‘No.’
She raised an eyebrow at him.
‘I don’t have the time, Ellie. Look, they’re starting to load the horses into the barrier. Our horse is being a bit fractious.’
‘Oh, no!’ Her attention flew back to the track and she took the binoculars he offered her. Then she breathed a sigh of relief as their horse consented to be led into his stall. ‘He’s in!’ She handed the binoculars back and gripped her hands tightly in her lap.
Minutes later the red light blinked on top of the barrier stalls, indicating that the field was under starter’s orders, and moments later, to an enormous roar from the crowd, the gates flew open and the race was under way.
Approximately three minutes and twenty seconds later, Ellie leapt up and tossed her hat into the air—a winner!
Brett caught the hat and took her in his arms.
‘How clever was that?’ she enthused, her eyes shining.
‘Not only clever but gorgeous as well, Ms Madigan,’ he said, and kissed her soundly.
And a mysterious change seemed to creep into how things were between them from that moment on; a subtle closeness developed so that they were no longer two people enjoying the Melbourne Cup together, but two people enjoying each other.
After watching the presentation, he took her down and out into the public areas to enjoy the crowd but kept her hand in his as they laughed at the novelties they saw and the antics of the crowd. They found a stall that sold Cup memorabilia and bought Simon a cap, then one for Martie Webster as well.
And when they got in a crowd jam, he put his arms around her and she took her hat off and rested her cheek below his shoulder, feeling safe and secure while they waited for it to clear. And at the end of the day, there was a limousine to take them to their hotel.
They had a two-bedroomed suite in the soaring tower at the Sofitel on Collins Street.
Ellie looked round at the elegantly beautiful luxury of it all and turned to Brett. ‘Thank you so much for a wonderful day. I had no idea I was going to enjoy it so much.’
He shed his jacket and pulled off his tie. ‘It’s not over yet.’
She looked a little blank.
‘I thought we’d have dinner here in the hotel. Then, if you felt like it, a little flutter at the casino. But there’s no rush. You could have a rest.’
Ellie stared at him. ‘I don’t…know what I feel like doing.’
He came over to her but didn’t touch her. And the mysterious current that had flowed between them since he’d kissed her at the races grew stronger.
She frowned and tried to analyze it. Desire—yes. But different from other times. There was more warmth to it in an emotional sense; there was the sheer pleasure of his company and the thought that he’d organised a wonderful day for her.
There was an irresistible urge to let down her guard completely and tell him that, for her, there was only one fitting way to go now—into his arms and his bed.
‘Ellie?’ he said very quietly.
‘Oh, Brett,’ she whispered, and against all odds found herself smiling at him because he was in so many ways all that she wanted. She brought her hands up and placed them on his chest. ‘I don’t want to rest.’
He looked down into her eyes with a gleam of a question in his.
‘I want,’ she said slowly, ‘to be brought to life again. I don’t want to make any decisions but I really…need to end this special day in a special way, with you.’ She stood on her toes and kissed him lingeringly.
‘Ellie.’ He hesitated and put his hands on her waist. ‘Just promise me one thing—no regrets.’
‘No regrets, Brett,’ she vowed.
‘Because I can think of no better way to end this day either—it’s been on my mind for the last few hours.’
‘Really?’
‘Really. Since you threw your hat in the air, as a matter of fact.’
‘Why would that do it?’ she asked in a fascinated sort of way.
‘Why would that do it?’ he repeated. ‘It was an expression of pure joy over so much more than winning the princely sum of twenty dollars. It was…’ he paused ‘…a delight to see you being—just you. Not a mother or a housewife or a girl juggling two jobs.’
‘That’s how I feel—liberated,’ she said with a sigh of pleasure.
He kissed the corner of her mouth and his hands moved on her. ‘Let’s see if we can further that process.’ He wound his arms around her and began to kiss her in earnest.
And when she was dizzy with delight, he slipped the zip of her dress down and helped her to step out of it, to reveal her new underwear, worn only once before, to Delia and Archie’s anniversary.
‘This is very sexy, Ellie,’ he said, running his hands down her sides. ‘Just as well I didn’t know about it earlier, I could have been a basket case.’ He looked ruefully into her eyes.
‘I like the thought of that!’
‘I always knew you were a hard woman.’
‘I feel anything but at the moment,’ she responded, and gasped as he slid her briefs down and his fingers e
xplored the curls at the base of her stomach.
‘Tell me.’
She tilted her head back and closed her eyes as she was racked by delicious tremors. ‘On fire…’
She felt him take an unexpected breath, then he was kissing her throat and the valley between her breasts and all the while exploring her more and more intimately. Then he picked her up and carried her into a bedroom.
She made a little murmur of distress as he placed her on the bed and left her.
‘I’ll be right back, Ellie.’ He dropped a kiss on her hair—and was as good as his word but this time strong, lean, hard and naked.
And he immediately gathered her into his arms and he talked to her while he stroked her—nothing serious, but odds and ends to do with their day—until the magic started to build again. Then she helped him to take her bra off and dispense with her briefs completely, and, if he’d assaulted her senses before, she was helpless and humming with desire and delight like a bird on wire beneath this new assault.
In fact she thought she couldn’t bear any more and told him so.
‘Yes, you can.’ He kissed her all the way down to her navel.
‘Brett…’ She clutched his arms urgently.
He raised his grey eyes to hers. ‘Ellie, if it’s been a while we need to take certain precautions.’
‘It feels as if it’s been all my life! What kind of precautions?’
‘The last thing I want to do is hurt you so I need to make sure you’re really ready.’ And he started at the top again, kissing her that was, but this time he didn’t stop at her navel.
‘Brett, Brett,’ she pleaded as she ran her fingers through his hair, ‘I’ve never been more ready in my life…’
He lifted his head and glinted her a wicked little smile. ‘Thank heavens, this is sheer torture!’
But still he was circumspect and her heart beat heavily with gratitude—then the moment came and everything else fled from her mind as she surrendered to incredible joy.
CHAPTER EIGHT
‘WHAT would you like to do now?’
Ellie opened her eyes to find Brett staring down at her with his head propped on his elbow and his hand lying proprietorially on her waist.
‘Now?’ she said dreamily. ‘Well. Dinner here, a flutter at the casino, perhaps a stroll along the Yarra—how does that sound?’
‘Far too energetic for a man in my position.’
‘What’s that? Your position?’
He thought for a bit and said very seriously, ‘Bewitched, bothered and bewildered—and the owner of a bruised thumb.’
‘Oh!’ Ellie sat up and picked up his hand. ‘Did I hurt it? I’m so sorry.’ She kissed his palm gently, then placed it over her breast with her nipple nestled into it.
He groaned.
‘Surely that’s not hurting?’ she said innocently.
‘Maybe not, but it could be classified as imposing a severe trial on me,’ he returned.
She raised her eyebrows.
‘In light of your determination to dine, gamble and walk,’ he supplied ruefully.
‘I see. Still, if your finger is hurting, those things would be much better for it than—any other activities you might have had in mind,’ she said gravely.
He scanned her figure, so slim and pretty, so silky. His gaze lingered on some faint marks on her skin that he himself had made during his possession of her, and finally their gazes locked.
‘That’s—increasingly—becoming not an option,’ he said.
‘Ah! Oh, yes, I see! Well, you put your hand out of harm’s way,’ she suggested, ‘and I might be able to come up with a plan.’
Several minutes later, he said, ‘Has it occurred to you I could die of this plan?’
Ellie moved cautiously. She was lying on top of him and she said, with the golden glints in her eyes teasing him, ‘It’s not having that effect on me!’
‘How about this?’ He caressed her bottom with his good hand.
She took a breath. ‘Now that—is rather remarkable but I’m still not dying.’
He made a rough little sound in his throat and, regardless of his sore finger, clamped her hips to his, and together they shot to sheer ecstasy.
‘Wow!’ Ellie breathed when she could speak again. ‘You’ve wrecked me.’
He stroked her damp curls off her forehead and kissed her lightly.
‘It was either that or, well, I told you at the time.’
She snuggled up against him. ‘I’m not complaining. In fact being wrecked by you is rather unique.’
‘Thank you, Ms Madigan. So. Should we consider our options again?’
‘All right. Maybe we should forgo the walk along the Yarra?’
‘Good thinking. And the casino might just be a bit lively for us, don’t you agree?’
‘Definitely. As for getting dressed and going to dinner, even in the hotel—’
‘Not a good idea at all,’ he broke in.
‘Well, we need not make a very long meal of it.’
‘The thing is, I have this aversion to you being dressed at the moment,’ he said, trailing his fingers down her body. ‘And while I’m quite sure you’d create a sensation undressed, I don’t think I’d like that at all!’
‘Heaven forbid, Mr Spencer!’ But her eyes were full of laughter. ‘How about room service?’
‘Done! You know…’ he sobered a little ‘…you soared like one of your kites, and took me with you, just now. What were you thinking?’
She trailed her fingers down his arm. ‘Just that—it was like soaring up to heaven. I didn’t know I was capable of…’ She stopped.
‘Taking a man to heaven with you?’
‘Not really, no.’ She looked into his eyes with a faint frown.
‘I think you should bear it in mind.’ He dropped a kiss on her head and went to order room service.
When he came back she was showering.
He stepped in to join her. ‘Good thinking—unless you’ve changed your mind about going out?’
‘Far from it. But I do have an outfit that’s perfect for…uh…this kind of thing.’
‘What exactly is this kind of thing?’ He soaped himself vigorously.
‘Dining at home—that kind of thing.’ She raised her arms and the water streamed all over her from head to toe.
‘Damn,’ Brett said and took her wrists in one hand.
‘Damn?’ She tilted her head back so as not to have water in her eyes.
He looked up and down her body. ‘I’ve never seen a lovelier waterfall, that’s all.’ He released her wrists and stepped under the jet himself. ‘You’re like a perfect sprite.’
She touched the smooth, sleek muscles in his upper arms. ‘You’re amazingly well put together for a doctor.’
‘How should doctors be put together?’ he enquired gravely.
She grimaced. ‘I don’t know but it’s not very physical work, is it? Whereas you’re…very physical.’
He turned the water off, picked her up and took her out of the shower, where he wrapped her in a towel and slung one round his waist.
‘Enough of that, my lovely sprite. It was getting dangerous.’
She raised her eyebrows.
‘Three times in as many hours,’ he elucidated. ‘I don’t want to wear you out.’
‘Thank you for your concern.’ She stood on tiptoe and planted a butterfly kiss on his mouth. ‘But I just wanted to say something. I may have impugned your…lack of co-ordination when it came to building kennels?’ She looked a question at him.
‘You did,’ he agreed. ‘You gave me to understand that in your estimation I was not only downright unhandy as a kennel builder but also a doctor.’
‘I take it back—well, kennels may not be your forte but in certain other respects you’re…absolutely brilliant!’
He looked down at her wryly, then his eyes softened. ‘If you mean what I think you mean, I had the finest material to work with. You.’
She felt a sudden lump
in her throat, and sniffed—and there was a knock at the door just as he was about to put his arms around her.
He dropped them. ‘Dinner has arrived,’ he said, looking wicked, ‘at a very fortuitous moment.’
‘Danger time again?’
‘Uh-huh.’ He pushed some tendrils of hair behind her ears and studied her luminous hazel eyes. ‘Why don’t I go and organise that while you—didn’t you say you had something to wear?’
‘Yes! Off you go, we’ll eat in the lounge. I’ll join you shortly.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said meekly and cast away the towel to stride through to the bedroom and rummage in his bag for a pair of shorts. ‘Just don’t be too long about it,’ he added over his shoulder. ‘I could get lonely.’ He pulled the shorts on and walked into the lounge, closing the door behind him.
Ellie stared at it for a moment, then she too discarded her towel and waltzed into the bedroom—literally waltzed. She came to rest in front of the dressing-table mirror with her arms extended and her feet crossed and could never remember feeling better or happier in her life. In fact she took a bow to her reflection and smiled at herself. Then she opened her bag and took out the lovely silvery-grey negligée and nightgown she’d so inexplicably purchased when she’d been shopping for something to wear to Delia’s party.
The nightgown had a square neck, no sleeves and the neckline was heavily encrusted with ice-coloured lace. The negligée had the same neckline, sleeves and did up at the front via tiny pearl buttons. They were both mid-calf length and when she twirled they fanned out in a beautiful bell. But before she put them on she dried her hair to get most of the moisture out of it, then ran her fingers through it, which was all she had to do—one of the consolations of curly hair. And she smoothed moisturizer all over her body.
Finally, she presented herself in the lounge, but paused on the threshold and looked down at herself. Even two layers of gossamer silk were not exactly concealing.
Brett was twisting the wire off the cork of a bottle of champagne and he said, simply, ‘Wow!’
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