by Anne Oliver
‘What…?’
Her voice trailed off as a figure broke away from the other group and headed towards her balloon at a fast-track pace.
Her heart started pounding as the figure resolved into a big man wearing a long black coat buttoned to the neck. A too-familiar man.
‘And good luck,’ she heard Adam say.
But she was too busy staring at Luke and gathering her defences. All she could think of was how to make her legs work because they seemed to be glued to the bottom of the basket. His strides devoured the space between them as the basket swayed, impatient to be airborne.
Luke’s legs were vibrating like a drilling machine as he hurried across the dew-soaked grass. At the centre of his vision was the woman, her ebony hair at her shoulders lifting in the slight breeze. Suddenly it didn’t matter that the sight of that flimsy contraption was enough to dry the spit in his mouth, that inside the tux beneath his coat he was sweating up a storm.
As he watched she lifted a hand and pressed it to her chest. That had to be good, right? It meant her heart was gallumping too.
But the vibes across the few metres separating them now weren’t good—they blew through him like an Antarctic blizzard. Only the all-consuming need to reach her—just to touch her and make her listen to what burned in his heart—propelled him forward.
He passed Adam going the other way. ‘Thanks, bud, I owe you,’ he muttered.
Adam raised a hand. ‘Go get her, mate.’
He’d expected the frown, the frosty-eyed panic in her grey eyes, though he’d hoped for something, anything from those thinned ashen lips that he could pin a hope on.
Her complexion matched the coat, he noted as he closed the remaining few metres. At least Adam had talked her into wearing it. She used it now, wrapping it tighter around her like a shield and backing as far away as she could in the confined space. He wouldn’t put it past her to jump at the last moment.
Like a falling man scrabbling at the sides of a cave-in, he grabbed at the wicker and swung himself up beside her. ‘Hi.’ He cursed the breathlessness in his voice, the line of sweat snaking down his spine and into what must now be a very wrinkled dress shirt.
At that moment the balloon lifted off on a slow glide. He didn’t look. His gaze was wholly focused on the woman in front of him, her face averted and turned to the dawn, its rosy hue painting her cheeks a soft peach.
‘I take it the coat’s yours as well,’ she said without any word of greeting.
‘No, it’s yours.’
She stood ramrod straight and shook her head. ‘It’s too fancy to waste on me. I’d only get it dirty in my line of work. It suits someone who’d wear it the way it’s supposed to be worn. In style.’ Her voice had a barb that speared through his chest as she finally pinned that frostbite gaze on him.
Melanie looked into his mesmerising eyes, eyes that seemed to draw her inside his skin, as if she were part of him, and was almost tempted to take what they’d always had—fun times, surprises, sensational sex.
But when you stripped that away, what was left?
‘I know these past weeks haven’t been easy but we can get through this, Mel.’
She shook her head slowly. And when we come out the other side, what then?
‘I want you,’ he said, grabbing her hands before she could pull away. ‘Your spontaneity, your energy, your colour. You’re full of surprises. I never know what’s going to happen next.’
She saw the depth of passion in his eyes, felt it in the hard grip of his hands, heard it in his words. But her heart throbbed as if he’d pummelled it with that passion.
He wanted her.
Yes, he wanted her in his bed but he didn’t want her accompanying him to functions. Good enough for a private show, but a liability in public.
Well, it wasn’t enough—she had some pride left.
‘It won’t work for us, Luke,’ she said, pulling away so he wouldn’t feel the tremor in her hands, so she didn’t feel the ache in her chest so acutely. She turned her gaze skyward, at the balloon filling her vision. ‘I don’t know whether it was five years ago or five weeks, but somewhere along the line I fell in love with you. Against all the rules, I know, and it hurts too damn much.’
‘Mel—’
He reached for her but she threw up a hand. ‘Don’t. Touch. Me. Please.’
‘We can make it work,’ he said quietly.
‘Not without honesty.’ Defeated, she looked out across the green belt of forest in the distance. ‘You said so yourself.’
‘I was so wrong that afternoon. I realise now that you did everything you could to let me know, to give me a chance to be part of your life. That you didn’t want to hurt me by telling me the truth about the phone call.’
She gritted her teeth and braced herself. ‘And you, Luke? Can you say you’ve been honest with me?’
‘I’m not sure I follow.’
‘No?’ She swung to face him. ‘What about the woman you’re escorting tonight? Your six o’clock dinner date? Eleanor,’ she elaborated when he continued to stare at her, slack-jawed and speechless as the balloon continued to rise. ‘I found your list, Luke. Is it one of your father’s functions?’
‘Eleanor?’ Something seemed to crystallise in the depths of his eyes. And was that tiny lift at the corner of his mouth the beginnings of a smile?
Because he was anticipating the evening ahead?
Inside her chest anguish and anger waged a vicious war, but she didn’t look away from him. Oh, no. She needed to hear the truth from those lips, to read it in his eyes. Then perhaps she could move on. He might think he had her cornered but he was the one trapped now. Trapped by his own written words.
‘The woman I’m escorting tonight?’ he said finally. ‘Oh, she’s a stunner all right and she can mix it with the best of them. Even has my dad hooked. And I’m hoping it will be an engagement celebration.’
The last sentence, spoken in that husky voice with something close to reverence, slid through her like a knife. Everything alive inside her—every dream, every desire, every hope—drained away leaving an empty, aching hollow.
She could only stand mute and watch as he unbuttoned his coat, shrugged it off and pulled out something from the inside pocket of his tux— His tux?
At that moment the first rays of the sun slid over the horizon, turning his tanned skin golden, glinting in his eyes.
‘She’s an intelligent woman too, the woman I love—at least I’d thought so until now.’ He glanced down at whatever he held, then searched Melanie’s gaze.
The woman he loves?
She didn’t move. Couldn’t. Her pulse hammered through every part of her body. Her mind was a blur. Six o’clock; six a.m.? Was she brave enough, strong enough, to entertain the thought that she’d got it all wrong?
When she remained rigid, he shook his head. ‘This isn’t going as planned—but with you, I suppose I should’ve expected that.’ His lips curved just a little. ‘Stop trying to analyse, Melanie, and listen with your heart.’
‘But Eleanor… You were going to pick—’
He sighed, but his eyes were warm, crinkling at the corners as his smile widened. ‘Your heart, Mel.’
Stepping closer, he touched the space between her breasts. Her heart pounded against his hand, whispered in her mind: The woman he loves.
‘I don’t understand.’ Her voice trembled out.
‘The only thing you need to understand is that I love you. You, Melanie Sawyer. Yes, we’re different. And that’s what I love about us. We complement each other, that yin and yang thing.
‘As for the rest…Eleanor’s married to the owner of one of the most exclusive jewellers in Sydney. “Ring. Eleanor”’ he repeated, spacing the two words. ‘That damn list—not a verb, Mel. “Ring” as in the circle of promise you give the woman you want to spend the rest of your life with.’
Melanie’s breath caught. The ring…? The rest of her life?
He held it up so the sun sparked f
ire on gold, flashed in the stones, then reached for her hand. ‘I hope you like amethyst and yellow diamonds. Marry me, Melanie.’
The words glittered in the air like the precious stones he was offering her. All the words she’d never thought she’d hear from Luke. ‘You’re serious.’ Her heart soared with the balloon, her knees trembled as she looked into those familiar toffee eyes and saw the depth of his words mirrored there.
‘Whoa.’ As she sagged towards him Luke spread his legs a little, tucking her close against him with a breathless laugh that caught in her hair as he pressed firm lips to her temple. ‘Damn right, I’m serious.’
Happiness was breaking over her like the warmth of the sunrise, but, ‘What about your career, your father…?’
‘I’m changing careers. I’ve had enough of overseas—the people who matter live here. I’ve just spent the past week sorting things out, inducting new staff to take over for me. I’m going into the hotel business with Ben since I hope we’re going to be brothers-in-law. And you have your own career for as long as you want.
‘As for Dad…’ He leaned back and looked her straight in the eye. ‘You changed his mind, honey. With your strength and loyalty and, yes, honesty. You didn’t denounce him to me because you didn’t want to put me in an awkward situation and he damn well knows it. He’s keeping the champagne cold for us.
‘So…’ He lifted her hand in his hard-palmed one and rubbed a thumb over her knuckles. ‘Will you share the rest of your amazing event-filled adrenaline-charged life with me?’
Her heart swelled, her throat clogged as her eyes filled with moisture. ‘Yes,’ she breathed.
She watched as he slid the ring onto her finger. Sighed as he brushed his lips over hers. She heard the low groan in his throat as she opened her mouth and mated her tongue to his. Her whole body quickened as he pulled her closer, his hands cupping her cheeks. She was soaring…
‘Congratulations,’ a cheery voice said, breaking into the moment and reminding Melanie of another reason why she was experiencing that lighter-than-air feeling.
She smiled at Jacob over her shoulder. ‘Thank you.’
‘Now you two have got that sorted,’ he said, nodding to the sunrise, ‘you might want to enjoy what’s left of the flight and admire the view while we’re up here.’
‘Thanks, Jacob.’ Luke grinned, his hands in Melanie’s hair, finally dragging his gaze away from her to look about him. ‘For a while there I thought we might have to stay up here for ever… And it’s not as bad as I’d feared.’
‘It’s glorious,’ Melanie said, hugging Luke’s arm. ‘Look, the other balloon.’ They watched the balloon drifting like a giant orange some distance away. To the west she could see the smoky blue haze that gave the Blue Mountains their name. To the east, Sydney’s skyline gleamed in early morning sun. She turned to Luke. ‘You always swore no one would ever get you up in one of these.’
‘No one but you.’ He brought her left hand to his lips and kissed her newly ringed finger. ‘I’d expected to be tossed like the wind, but it’s so calm.’
Melanie grinned at the pilot. ‘Because we’re flying with the currents, right, Jacob?’
‘Yes,’ he replied. ‘All smooth sailing.’
And all too soon they were on the ground again, and making their way to where a champagne breakfast had been set out on the lawn on the grounds of a stately old home. Plates of food and sparkling crystal flutes adorned snowy white tablecloths. Melanie’s mouth watered at the aroma of bacon and hot coffee wafting their way.
In the distance she could see Luke’s parents and Adam, Ben holding a blue-capped bundle in one arm and Carissa hanging on the other. Adam saw them first, then they all turned. At Luke’s thumbs-up, they lifted their champagne glasses. Melanie’s steps faltered as she saw Colin break away from the group and head towards them.
Luke’s hand tightened on hers. ‘He wants a moment with you, Melanie. Give him a chance to apologise.’ Then he squeezed, let go and walked towards the others.
Which left her alone with the man who’d given her nothing but grief. In the sun’s glare he looked older, his skin lacked its normal healthy glow, the lines around his mouth showed stress or pain. Perhaps he wasn’t well, as he’d claimed, and she made a mental note to make sure he checked himself in to a doctor.
She could never forget what he’d done, but for Luke’s sake she could try to forgive. She stopped a few feet away. ‘Hello, Colin.’
‘Melanie.’ He nodded. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you.’
His mouth worked a moment before he spoke again. ‘I’m sorry. I was wrong.’ He shook his head. ‘Here I am, a man who’s never been lost for words, and I can’t think of a damn thing to say. To make it right between us…’
‘You just did,’ Melanie said, and took that first step towards her future father-in-law. She touched his arm lightly, caught the unfamiliar glint of her ring as she did. It brought a rush of emotion to her throat. She was going to be a part of Luke’s family. ‘We can talk another time. Shall we join the others?’
They walked together in silence. Maybe one day soon, she thought, they could converse like family.
As they approached Carissa broke away from the group and rushed into Melanie’s arms. ‘Oh, Mel, it’s been so hard keeping the secret for a whole twenty-four hours,’ she said as they headed towards the rest of the group.
Luke held out a single glass of bubbly. ‘To share,’ he told her and raised it to her lips. ‘Happy birthday.’
Eyes on his, she took a sip, then turned the glass so his lips touched the same spot and returned the favour. ‘It’s one birthday I’ll never forget.’
* * *
Hours later, Melanie lounged back beside Luke in his spa, enjoying the soothing balm of the water, the charcoal aroma from their barbecue tea. The lazy aftermath of hot and strenuous sex.
Wisps of steam curled off the surface as he lifted the bottle of champagne. ‘Another?’
‘Please.’ She held out her glass.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ he said, topping up his own. ‘I know Mum would love to plan our wedding—what do you think? You do want a wedding, don’t you, Mel?’
‘Hmm. I have to warn you that what I’d like might be a little less-than-traditional for your parents’ tastes.’
‘Ah.’ He nodded. ‘I already warned her. She said whatever you wanted was fine by her. Guess she doesn’t know you as well as me.’
‘Don’t worry, it won’t be anything too outrageous.’
‘I’ve a feeling we’ll be seeing a lot of them,’ he warned gently.
‘And wait till the grandchildren come…’ She said it without thought, without sadness, but Melanie’s skin prickled, and the air stirred as if someone had brushed by her.
Had Luke felt it too? Silent, he stared up at the night sky and for a few moments the only sound was the churning of the water jets.
In the dimness, he turned to her, his soul-deep eyes glittering like black jewels. ‘We’ll make more babies, Mel, if that’s what you want.’
‘Oh, I do.’ She brushed at the tears welling in her eyes.
‘Well, then…’ His serious eyes turned mischievous and he grinned, tugging her hand beneath the water to where she discovered he was already up for the task again.
‘How soon?’
‘How soon?’ Water sluiced off his body as he stood and picked up the nearby box of condoms. Tossed it neatly onto the still-smouldering barbecue. ‘No need to wait for the big day. We’ll start right now.’
EPILOGUE
Nine months later
THE theatre was austere white with green linoleum. His face was probably the same shade, Luke thought as he clutched Melanie’s hand. Lights made the room as bright as day. Behind the green drape over Mel’s body the doctor was preparing for a Caesarean delivery.
‘Ready, Melanie?’ the doctor said.
‘Yes.’ Her voice was calm, her smile almost serene. Only the tiniest hint of nerves fl
ickered in her grey eyes.
Luke was glad of the mask hiding his expression. How could she be so composed when his gut was churning like an excavation drill and his pulse was running like a piston?
‘Making the incision now.’
Luke knew she couldn’t feel it. But he could. His blood drained to his feet and he gripped Mel’s hand tighter as nursing staff went about their business as if this was any other day.
This wasn’t any other day. In a few moments he’d be a father. He didn’t know if he was ready to be a father yet. Too late. Shouldn’t have thrown away those condoms so soon, an inner voice said.
‘Luke. Honey? You have the camera ready?’
‘Right here.’ Somewhere.
‘Would you like to watch the birth, Mr Delaney?’ someone said, looking at him over her mask.
He cringed inwardly. ‘No. Thank you. I’m fine, right here. My wife needs me…right here.’
Melanie smiled at him and squeezed his hand, but his clever wife could see right through him.
He needed her, not the other way round. She was strong and sexy and smart. She was colour and movement and life. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, even now, swathed in hospital linen.
Especially now.
He made a solemn vow to himself and Melanie as he sat on that chair stroking her hand, that whatever happened he’d be there for her and their children. They’d be there for each other.
Okay, he had a lot to learn about this new role and he was bound to make mistakes, just as his father had.
‘A boy.’ A voice intruded on his thoughts.
His heart almost leapt out of his chest. ‘A son.’
‘And a daughter. Congratulations, you two. A perfect pair of twins.’
‘I love you so much, Mel,’ he whispered, touching his lips to hers—gently, afraid of hurting her. She seemed so fragile lying on the operating table. ‘Thank you.’
‘Who’s going to hold who?’ another voice demanded.
He looked up through blurred eyes to see a nurse with two tiny bundles. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
The nurse laid one wrapped infant in his arms. ‘This is—’ he loosened the sheet ‘—Eliza—after her grandmother. Gorgeous, just like her mum.’ He carefully laid her on Melanie’s chest.