He gestured at the neat pile of papers on the dining table. ‘I read them as I picked them up. Couldn’t fault a word. Or an action.’
He emphasised the final word, recalling her responses to his caresses, and her immediate blush proved she was too. He trailed a fingertip path down her cheek to her chin, cupped it, and pressed a light kiss on her lips.
‘Hold that thought until tonight, Jemma.’
* * *
They slipped into a flexible routine based around a wake-up swim and walking, and taking quiet breaks between writing sessions. Jemma declined to join Nate in his gym workouts, letting him work off steam alone, and stayed home when he went to fire training.
Only two incidents marred the following four days for her...
On Monday her mobile bleeped as she was cooking her special scrambled eggs for lunch. Probably Cloe sending a promised recipe, she thought, smiling to herself. They chatted every few days, though Jemma hadn’t yet revealed where she was, or why.
She called out to Nate, dished up the food, and then sat at the table opening the email. Just to check. Her smile faded and she lost her appetite as her stomach sank.
Vanessa. Her sister had sent her customary reminder for what was, as far as Jemma was concerned, an over-the-top annual charity event she’d conveniently semi forgotten. Her day-to-day life was good, and she’d learned to handle the now dwindling number of bouts of social inadequacy. But being at that particular glamorous function always rekindled her Cinderella complex.
‘Bad news?’ Nate’s genuine concern was comforting.
‘Only for me. An evening in a huge room of A-class notables I have nothing in common with and have problems talking to, battling a throbbing headache even if I take tablets before.’
‘Don’t go.’
‘My sister and her husband are on the organising committee. As far as they and my parents are concerned my attendance is compulsory.’
Without shame, he leant over and read the businesslike message. He frowned. ‘For a sister, she’s not very personal.’
‘We’re not close.’
‘From this I wouldn’t be able to tell you were related.’
She bristled at his criticism, even if she did agree. Different personalities and a six-year gap had been insurmountable for them.
‘Have your lunch before it gets cold.’
He ate in silence, brooding for a few minutes before persisting with the subject. ‘Why the reminder?’
‘I decided not to attend three years ago, and pretended I’d forgotten when my mother asked if I’d booked my flights.’ She scrunched her nose. ‘Hence the reminder missive.’
His husky chuckle brightened her up.
‘You always attend solo?’ he asked.
She ignored his inference that she couldn’t get a date.
‘That year only—and Vanessa partnered me with a widowed bank manager in his forties. Nice enough guy, but... I have a bachelor friend who’s been willing to act as escort since. I’ll ring him and confirm the date.’
She lifted a forkful of eggs to her mouth and chewed, contemplating the inevitability of her fate.
Becoming aware of a difference in the atmosphere, she looked up to meet dark storm-grey eyes studying her with an intensity that made her body pulsate.
‘You’ve already asked him?’
‘He knows the date, so...’
His eyebrows arched and her throat dried. Why was he...? He couldn’t be suggesting... By then the manuscript would be with Brian or a publisher for assessment, and she’d be painting and tending shop in Hahndorf.
‘I am corporate-dinner-trained, and can produce references if required.’
He was joking, yet his voice held an edge reminiscent of their original encounter. She was speechless.
* * *
Nate was acting on instinct, reacting to the cold clamp in his gut when she’d casually mentioned this friend. A male friend. Her tone had negated any romantic connection, so he had no reason to be jealous. That he’d even think the word rocked him, making his statement come out more roughly than intended.
He tried to atone. ‘Jemma Harrison, would you please allow me the honour of escorting you to your sister’s charity do in Melbourne?’
His heart flipped at the sight of her flustered face; cheeks rosy, eyes glistening and her pink tongue licking lips that strove to form words. The tight clench of his stomach proved how susceptible he was to that natural action.
‘You might be already booked that weekend.’ Breathy. Unsure.
‘I’ll make sure I’m free.’
Seeing her sudden dazzling smile was like watching the sun rise over the mountains or appear from behind the clouds as the rain stopped. The world was clearer, brighter. A better place to live.
As long as he lived in the moment and didn’t plan ahead.
* * *
The second incident occurred as they arrived home from a walk on Thursday afternoon. Nate had answered his phone and the female voice at the other end sounded distraught, though Jemma couldn’t make out the words.
‘Hang on, Tess.’ He shrugged and gave Jemma a wry grin. ‘I have to take this. Wanna make coffee?’
He brushed his lips over hers and went out onto the veranda.
Tess again. None of her business if his friend needed help. Except he didn’t mention it when he came in, just thanked her for the coffee and resumed revising. She brushed her qualms aside, but the seed of doubt had been sown. How often did the woman call when she wasn’t there, and why bother Nate with her problems?
* * *
A wisp of hair soft as Milly’s fur tickled Jemma’s face, slowly rousing her from sleep. She sighed, flicked her hand, encountering only air, and buried her face deeper into the pillow. It happened again, this time accompanied by a musky aroma.
She blinked, saw a shadowy figure and opened her eyes. Nate was hunkered down by the bed, his fingers waving strands of her hair over her cheek. It was the most delicious way to wake up—the perfect face to see when she did. And even better when he pressed his lips to hers, reigniting the fires that still smouldered from the night before.
‘Good morning, sweetheart. It’s Friday morning, and you need to get up. Breakfast in fifteen minutes. Casual dress code today.’
Propping herself up onto one elbow, she double-blinked as the force of his energy swept away any waking lethargy.
‘You’re lively this morning. I know what day it is, and I thought we—’
He was dressed in a lightweight navy top and chinos, rather than the T-shirt and shorts he favoured at home.
‘You’re going out?’
‘We are.’ He slid his hand round her neck, and caressed her cheek with his thumb. ‘Do you trust me, Jemma?’
The wariness in his eyes tempered his excitement, and the firm line of his mouth conjured up an image of a small boy not sure if his Mother’s Day present would be well received, fervently hoping it would.
‘What have you done, Nate Thornton?’
‘What? No Mr?’
He smiled and kissed her softly, then harder as her arms wound around his neck. He finally pulled away, breathing rapidly, sat on the edge of the bed and took her hands in his.
‘Temptress! I made a vow the day we met. Now I’m hoping to honour it. Shower and pack for two nights in Sydney. I’ve got the support meeting tomorrow night, so you might like to stay over with Cloe then and I’ll pick you up Sunday morning.’
He stood up and strode to the door, looking back and winking before disappearing. She stared at the ceiling, wondering what he had planned. They had six full chapters and a few pages to go, and would have had no problems finishing by Monday—Tuesday at the latest. Probably wouldn’t if they spent two days away.
Was he deliberately delaying her departure?
A quiver of delight
vibrated along her spine at the thought. She had no illusions of a long-term romance—he’d been adamant on that score. There was, however, the possibility of a continuing professional relationship if she was needed. By email, as urgency wouldn’t apply.
Springing from the bed, she gathered up her clothes and shoes and raced naked to her room. Warm weather was predicted, so she wore blue trousers and a new floral top. Remembering the sparkle in his eyes, she packed a new dress, guessing there’d be a restaurant meal included in his plans.
* * *
Nate tapped his fingers on the steering wheel, out of tune with the music, as they sped along the highway. Should he have told her before they left? If he told her now and his surprise upset her he wouldn’t be able to pull over and reason with her.
‘Is everything okay? You look worried and you’re tapping.’
He flicked her a smile, liking the way she was concerned about him. He wasn’t so sure about her growing insight into his character and what motivated him. Or why he was so determined to be with her in Melbourne and escort her to that function, three weeks in the future. When she would be back in Hahndorf.
‘We’ll talk in the unit.’
She didn’t push the subject and he relaxed. He’d be disappointed if she refused, but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.
* * *
They arrived at the unit about eleven, having stopped on the way to pick up sandwiches. Nate left Jemma to release Milly and make coffee while he took their suitcases to his room. On returning, he took two recliners and a low table onto the balcony, and set them up so they had a view of the city centre and the bridge.
Delaying his moment of revelation, he voiced the question he’d pondered since being told the name.
‘Why Milly?’
Lord, she was gorgeous when she was surprised. Her wide-eyed reaction brought back memories of Alice on Christmas mornings, when his world had been safe and full of fun and laughter. He waited, his chest tightening with pride as he sensed the second she decided to trust him with a personal anecdote from her past.
‘Milly was a favourite cartoon character from my early childhood. She was adventurous and feisty—everything I wanted to be at that age and never was. Best of all, she was funny-looking, with a button nose and frizzy hair. I’ve never forgotten the way she never let that impact on her zest for life, even if I’m not very good at emulating her.’
He dumped his mug on the table, moved across to sit beside her, did the same to her mug and gripped the sides of her seat with his hands, leaning over her.
‘You’ve lost me. There’s an implication there that you’re neither pretty, courageous nor spirited.
She shrank away from him and he gave a huff of disbelief, took her hands in his.
‘You are beautiful, Jemma Harrison. Exquisite and smart. You wrote a book, had the courage to send it to an agent and didn’t give up when he gave you honest criticism. You put your own work aside and chanced coming here to help me achieve the goal you wanted for yourself.’
His heart blipped and his pulse raced as her fingers trembled in his, her chin lifted and her lips curled into a shy smile.
‘Your book was so much closer to deserving publication.’
‘You’ve shown sheer guts and generosity of spirit, darling. Now, can we harness that spirit for something special? I’ve booked us in for a walk over the top of the bridge.’
She gasped, and he bent his head to kiss her, smothering any protest. The softness of her lips, her unique Jemma aroma and the caressing touch of her fingers sliding around his neck shot every thought bar one from his head.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JEMMA COULDN’T SEEM to focus when he rested his forehead on hers, allowing her space to drag in short puffs of air. How could one man have the power to muddle her thinking and reduce her body to malleable clay?
The bridge? A climb? Reason rushed back and she pushed at his chest, forcing him to lean away, one hand settling by her thigh, the other arm lying across his.
‘You think I’m too scared to do it? We’re up high now and I don’t have a problem.’
‘Not with fear. Heck, I think you’d tackle a tiger if the need arose. You’re a delightful mixture of self-assurance and insecurity, Jemma. You’re confident of your ability to paint, to write about intense personal relationships and maintain long friendships. And yet...’
He flicked a hand towards her mobile on the dining table.
‘All those photos on your phone—are any of you?’
‘They’re inspiration for my miniatures, and I’m the one taking them.’
No way can I compete with Vanessa, and nor do I want to be compared with her.
Yet she’d agreed to his escorting her to the Melbourne function.
‘You don’t like being in front of the camera. The bridge walk, a tandem skydive—they take photos as mementoes, and other participants take shots too. Come with me, Jemma. You don’t have to pose, and we won’t buy any copies of the photos if you don’t want to. Please.’
She looked into the man’s eyes seeing a boy’s pleading expectancy, and was overcome by a surge of regret for all the activities she’d denied herself because she’d judged herself inferior to her sister.
‘I’m not agreeing with you, but I’ll come to prove you wrong.’
With a triumphant, ‘Yes!’ he kissed her again.
‘You’ll love it—and there’s an extra surprise tonight.’
‘I’m not abseiling down a building in the dark.’
His roar of laughter warmed her from head to toe. Their time together might be short, but she’d have a lifetime’s store of precious memories.
* * *
Jemma’s enthusiasm for the climb grew with each mandatory action—filling out forms, locking away all personal items and wriggling into blue overalls. She listened carefully to the safety talk, conscious of Nate watching her for any sign of nerves.
Every rung of the ladder and each long, flat step taking her higher was empowering. She wanted to surge ahead, race to the top and spread her arms in triumph. Whenever they stopped, she memorised the view, storing it for future moments of self-doubt.
Nate followed her, seemingly enjoying her reaction more than his own experience. Having already been up there, he pointed out the ferry route through The Heads to Manly, the location of the zoo and of his apartment. And he sneaked in a few kisses when she smiled at him.
He put his arm around her for the group photo on the way up, and at the very top joined in her triumphant gestures and laughter. His proud smile thrilled her as her pose leaning back against the sky was snapped for immortality. Together at the edge, he wrapped his arms around her for a single photo, then kissed her with a tenderness that had her melting against him.
The thumbs-up from their camera-clicking guide told her it hadn’t been a sudden whim. She didn’t care. She was on top of the world, living out a fantasy she’d given scant thought to—if any. Even if she never did anything else extreme in her life, she’d proved she could and would.
* * *
That evening, she stood in front of the full-length mirror, her euphoria from the day’s achievement undiminished. She looked good. No, dammit, she glowed, and she was stylish enough to compete with the women on the social pages of weekly magazines. Maybe...
Conceding that Nate had been one hundred per cent responsible for her buying this new dress, and for her taking extra time and care with her make-up, she twirled for effect. Staring at her unfamiliar reflection, she relished her new self-confidence—short-lived though it might be once he no longer needed her.
Not unless she let it.
Brushing the negativity away, she picked up her new evening bag from the bed and gave a final spin for luck, loving the way the box pleats flared.
* * *
Where was she? Nate paced the open
-plan area, leant on the back of the modular couch for a moment, then made another circuit.
He glanced at his watch. No problem with time yet, and he had told her to dress up for dinner.
Where was she?
Her elation hadn’t diminished one iota since her jubilant moment on top of the bridge. And on the way home she’d studied the photographs he’d purchased as if reliving her success.
She’d looked so incredibly beautiful, so full of joy, that he’d bought two copies of every one they were in, intending to frame some. And that was part of his dilemma. He didn’t want to let her go, leaving him behind with only images of her on his walls.
She’d insisted on working, and they had finished another chapter before showering and changing. Was she eager to return to her solitary life in the Adelaide Hills? It didn’t seem that way to him when they made love. Her responses were as passionate as any man could ever desire. And more. She—
She was here.
He pivoted. His chest tightened, his heart lodged in his throat, and a voice drummed in his head. Keep her. Keep her.
She was radiant—a glorious vision in red leaving him lost for words. She’d turn heads, and he wasn’t sure he was happy with the concept that most of them would be male. How could she not realise how sexy she was in that dress, with the bodice hugging her delectable body and those pleats drawing his eyes to her lovely legs?
His own legs were none too steady as he stepped forward and took her hands in his, not sure whose fingers were trembling.
‘You are gorgeous, Jemma.’
Her smile and the shimmer in her dark blue eyes made him regret his limited vocabulary in such a situation. He racked his brain for one of the phrases she’d attributed to his hero, felt like he was battling fog, and drew her against him instead.
It was a gentle kiss. Until her soft lips stirred his desire and he wrapped her into a tight embrace.
The sound of his ringtone broke them apart, earning a guttural objection from him. Their taxi had arrived downstairs.
* * *
He deliberately left a gap between them in the back seat, and pressed his fingers to his thighs to avoid pulling her to his side. He needed the space to regain control.
Unlocking the Millionaire's Heart Page 14