The Bridesmaid's Baby Bump

He was half a room away from her, but awareness tingled down Eliza’s spine. A flush of humiliation warmed her cheeks. She hadn’t seen him or heard from him since the wedding in Montovia, despite his promise to get in touch when his divorce was through. And here he was—on his way out of Sydney.

Jake had been in her hometown for heaven knew how long and hadn’t cared to get in touch. She thought of a few choice names for him but wouldn’t let herself mutter them, even under her breath. Losing her dignity over him was not worth it.

Over the last months she’d gone past disappointed, through angry, to just plain embarrassed that she’d believed him. That she’d allowed herself to spin hopes and dreams around seeing him again—finally being able to act on that flare of attraction between them. An attraction that, despite her best efforts to talk herself out of it, had flamed right back to life at the sight of him. She’d failed dismally in her efforts to extinguish it. He looked just as good in faded jeans and black T-shirt as he looked in a tuxedo. Better, perhaps. Every hot hunk sensor in her body alerted her to that.

But good looks weren’t everything. She’d kidded herself that Jake was something he wasn’t. Sure, they’d shared some interesting conversations, come close to a kiss. But when it boiled down to it, it appeared he was a slick tycoon who’d known how to spin the words he’d thought would please her. And she’d been sucker enough to fall for it. Had there been anything genuine about him?

Jake had put her through agony by not getting in touch when he’d said he would. She never wanted that kind of emotional turmoil in her life again. Especially not now, when Party Queens was in possible peril. She needed all her wits about her to ensure the future of the company that had become her life.

Perhaps back then she’d been convenient for Jake—the bridesmaid paired with the best man. An instant temporary couple. Now he was single and oh-so-eligible he must have women flinging themselves at him from all sides. Even now, as she sneaked surreptitious glances at him, a well-dressed woman edged up close to him, smiling up into his face.

Jake laughed at something she said. Eliza’s senses jolted into hyper mode. He looked so handsome when he laughed. Heck, he looked so handsome whatever he did.

Darn her pesky libido. Her brain could analyse exactly what she didn’t want in a man, but then her body argued an opposing message. She’d let her libido take over at Gemma’s wedding, when she’d danced with Jake and let herself indulge in a fantasy that there could be something between them one day. But she prided herself on her self-control. Eliza allowed herself a moment to let her eyes feast on him, in the same way she would a mouthwatering treat she craved but was forbidden to have. Then she ducked her head and hid behind the pale pink pages of her favourite financial newspaper.

Perhaps she hadn’t ducked fast enough—perhaps she hadn’t masked the hunger in her gaze as successfully as she’d thought. Or perhaps Jake had noticed her when he came in as readily as she had noticed him.

Just moments later she was aware of him standing in front of her, legs braced in a way that suggested he wasn’t going anywhere. Her heart started to thud at a million miles an hour. As she lowered the newspaper and looked up at him she feigned surprise. But the expression in his green eyes told her she hadn’t fooled him one little bit.

She gathered all her resolve to school her face into a mask of polite indifference. He could not know how much he’d hurt her. Not hurt. That gave him too much power. Offended. His divorce had been splashed all over the media for the last three months. Yet there’d been no phone call from him. What a fool she’d been to have expected one. She’d obviously read way too much into that memorable ‘next time’ farewell.

Eliza went to get up but he sat down in the vacant seat next to her and angled his body towards her. In doing so he brushed his knee against her thigh, and she tried desperately not to gasp at his touch. Her famed self-control seemed to wobble every which way when she found herself within touching distance of Jake Marlowe.

He rested his hands on his thighs, which brought them too close for comfort. She refused to let herself think about how good they’d felt on her body in that close embrace of their dance. She could not let herself be blinded by physical attraction to the reality of this man.

‘Eliza,’ he said.

‘Jake,’ she said coolly, with a nod of acknowledgment.

She crossed her legs to break contact with his. Made a show of folding her newspaper, its rustle satisfyingly loud in the silence between them.

There was a long, awkward pause. She had no intention of helping him out by being the first one to dive into conversation. Not when he’d treated her with such indifference. Surely the thread of friendship they’d established had entitled her to better.

She could see he was looking for the right words, and at any other time she might have felt sorry for this intelligent, successful man who appeared to be struggling to make conversation. Would have fed him words to make it easier for him. But she knew how articulate Jake could be. How he had charmed her. This sudden shyness must be all part of his game. It seemed he felt stymied at seeing her by accident when he’d so obviously not wanted to see her by intent.

She really should hold her tongue and let him stumble through whatever he had to say. But she knew there wasn’t much time before her flight would be called. And this might be her only chance to call him on the way he had broken his promise.

Of course it hadn’t been a promise as such. But, spellbound by the magic of that royal wedding in Montovia, she had believed every word about there being a ‘next time’, when he was free. She’d never believed in fairytales—but she’d believed in him.

Even though the lounge chairs were spaced for privacy in the business class lounge—not crammed on top of each other like at the airport gate, where she was accustomed to waiting for a flight—she was aware that she and Jake were being observed and might possibly be overheard. She would have to be discreet.

She leaned closer to him and spoke in an undertone. ‘So whatever happened to getting in touch? I see from the media that your divorce is well and truly done and delivered. You’re now considered to be the most eligible bachelor in the country. You must be enjoying that.’

Jake shifted in his seat. Which brought his thigh back in touch with her knee. She pointedly crossed her legs again to break the contact. It was way too distracting.

‘You couldn’t be more wrong.’ He cleared his throat. ‘I want to explain.’

Eliza didn’t want to hear his half-hearted apologies. She glanced at her watch. ‘I don’t think so. My flight is about to be called.’

‘So is mine. Where are you headed?’

It would be childish to spit, None of your business, so she refrained. ‘Port Douglas.’

She’d been counting the days until she could get up to the resort in far north-east tropical Queensland. From Sydney she was flying to Cairns, the nearest airport. She needed to relax—to get away from everyday distractions so she could get her head around what she needed to do to ensure Party Queens’ ongoing success.

Jake’s expression, which had bordered on glum, brightened perceptibly. ‘Are you on Flight 321 to Cairns? So am I.’

Eliza felt the colour drain from her face. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Australia was an enormous country. Yet she happened to be flying to the same destination as Jake Marlowe. What kind of cruel coincidence was that?

‘Yes,’ she said through gritted teeth.

Port Douglas was a reasonably sized town. The resort she was booked into was pretty much self-contained. She would make darn sure she didn’t bump into him.

Just then they called the flight. She went to rise from her seat. Jake put his hand on her arm to detain her. She flinched.

He spoke in a fierce undertone. ‘Please, Eliza. I know it was wrong of me not to have got in touch as I said I would. But I had good reason.’

She stared at him, uncertain whether or not to give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed so sincere. But then he’d seemed so sincere at the wedding. Out there on the terrace, in a place and at a time that hardly seemed real any more. As if it had been a fairytale. How could she believe a word he said?

‘A phone call to explain would have sufficed. Even a text.’

‘That wouldn’t have worked. I want you to hear me out.’

There was something about his request that was difficult to resist. She wanted to hear what he had to say. Out of curiosity, if nothing else. Huh! Who was she kidding? How could she not want to hear what he had to say? After six months of wondering why the deafening silence?

She relented. ‘Perhaps we could meet for a coffee in Port Douglas.’ At a café. Not her room. Or his. For just enough time to hear his explanation. Then she could put Jake Marlowe behind her.

‘How are you getting to Port Douglas from Cairns?’ he asked.

‘I booked a shuttle bus from the airport to the resort.’

His eyebrows rose in such disbelief it forced from her a reluctant smile.

‘Yes, a shuttle bus. It’s quite comfortable—and so much cheaper than a taxi for an hour-long trip. That’s how we non-billionaires travel. I’m flying economy class, too.’

When she’d first started studying in Sydney, cut off from any family support because she’d refused to toe her father’s line, she’d had to budget for every cent. It was a habit she’d kept. Why waste money on a business class seat for a flight of less than three hours?

‘Then why...?’ He gestured around him at the exclusive waiting area.

‘I met a friend going through Security. She invited me in here on her guest pass. She went out on an earlier flight.’

‘Lucky for me—otherwise I might have missed you.’

She made a humph kind of sound at that, which drew a half-smile from him.

‘Contrary to what you might think, I’m very glad to see you,’ he said, in that deep, strong voice she found so very appealing.

‘That’s good to hear,’ she said, somewhat mollified. Of course she was glad to see him too—in spite of her better judgement. How could she deny even to herself that her every sense was zinging with awareness of him? She would have to be very careful not to be taken in by him again.

‘Are you going to Port Douglas on business or pleasure?’

‘Pleasure,’ she said, without thinking. Then regretted her response as a flush reddened on her cheeks.

She had fantasised over pleasure with him. When it came to Jake Marlowe it wasn’t so easy to switch off the attraction that had been ignited at their very first meeting. She would have to fight very hard against it.

It had taken some time to get her life to a steady state after her divorce, and she didn’t want it tipping over again. When she’d seen the media reports of Jake’s divorce, but hadn’t heard from him, she’d been flung back to a kind of angst she didn’t welcome. She cringed when she thought about how often she’d checked her phone for a call that had never come. It wasn’t a situation where she might have called him. And she hated not being in control—of her life, her emotions. Never did she want to give a man that kind of power over her.

‘I mean relaxation,’ she added hastily. ‘Yes, relaxation.’

‘Party Queens keeping you busy?’

‘Party Queens always keeps me busy. Too busy right now. That’s why I’m grabbing the chance for a break. I desperately need some time away from the office.’

‘Have you solved the Gemma problem?’

‘No. I need to give it more thought. Gemma will always be a director of Party Queens, for as long as the company exists. It’s just that—’

‘Can passengers Dunne and Marlowe please make their way to Gate Eleven, where their flight is ready for departure?’

The voice boomed over the intercom.

Eliza sat up abruptly, her newspaper falling in a flurry of pages to the floor. Hissed a swearword under her breath. ‘We’ve got to get going. I don’t want to miss that plane.’

‘How about I meet you at the other end and drive you to Port Douglas?’

Eliza hated being late. For anything. Flustered, she hardly heard him. ‘Uh...okay,’ she said, not fully aware of what she might be letting herself in for. ‘Let’s go!’

She grabbed her wheel-on cabin bag—her only luggage—and half-walked, half-ran towards the exit of the lounge.

Jake quickly caught up and led the way to the gate. Eliza had to make a real effort to keep up with his long stride. They made the flight with only seconds to spare. There was no time to say anything else as she breathlessly boarded the plane through the cattle class entrance while Jake headed to the pointy end up front.

* * *

Jake had a suspicion that Eliza might try to avoid him at Cairns airport. As soon as the flight landed he called through to the garage where he kept his car to have it brought round. Having had the advantage of being the first to disembark, he was there at the gate to head Eliza off.

She soon appeared, head down, intent, so didn’t see him as he waited for her. The last time he’d seen her she’d been resplendent in a ballgown. Now she looked just as good, in cut-off skinny pants that showed off her pert rear end and slim legs, topped with a form-fitting jacket. Deep blue again. She must like that colour. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She might travel Economy but she would look right at home in First Class.

For a moment he regretted the decision he’d made to keep her out of his life. Three months wasted in an Eliza-free zone. But the aftermath of his divorce had made him unfit for female company. Unfit for any company, if truth be told.

He’d been thrown so badly by the first big failure of his life that he’d gone completely out of kilter. Drunk too much. Made bad business decisions that had had serious repercussions to his bottom line. Mistakes he’d had to do everything in his power to fix. He had wealth, but it would never be enough to blot out the poverty of his childhood, to assuage the hunger for more that had got him into such trouble. He had buried himself in his work, determined to reverse the wrong turns he’d made. But he hadn’t been able to forget Eliza.

‘Eliza!’ he called now.

She started, looked up, was unable to mask a quick flash of guilt.

‘Jake. Hi.’

Her voice was higher than usual. Just as sweet, but strained. She was not a good liar. He stored that information up for later, as he did in his assessments of clients. He’d learned young that knowledge of people’s weaknesses was a useful tool. Back then it had been for survival. Now it was to give him a competitive advantage and keep him at the top. He could not let himself slide again.

‘I suspected you might try and avoid me, so I decided to head you off at the pass,’ he said.

Eliza frowned unconvincingly. ‘Why would you do that?’

‘Because you obviously think I’m a jerk for not calling you after the divorce. I’m determined to change your mind.’ He didn’t want to leave things the way they were. Not when thoughts of her had intruded, despite his best efforts to forget her.

‘Oh,’ she said, after a long pause. ‘You could do that over coffee. Not during an hour’s drive to Port Douglas.’

So she’d been mulling over the enforced intimacy of a journey in his car. So had he. But to different effect.

‘How do you know I won’t need an hour with you?’

She shrugged slender shoulders. ‘I guess I don’t. But I’ve booked the shuttle bus. The driver is expecting me.’

‘Call them and cancel.’ He didn’t want to appear too high-handed. But no way was she going to get on that shuttle bus. ‘Come on, Eliza. It will be much more comfortable in my car.’

‘Your rental car?’

‘I have a house in Port Douglas. And a car.’

‘I thought you lived in Brisbane?’

‘I do. The house in Port Douglas is an escape house.’

He took hold of her wheeled bag. ‘Do you need to pick up more luggage?’

She shook her head. ‘This is all I have. A few bikinis and sundresses is all I need for four days.’

Jake forced himself not to think how Eliza would look in a bikini. She was wearing flat shoes and he realised how petite she was. Petite, slim, but with curves in all the right places. She would look sensational in a bikini.

‘My car is out front. Let’s go.’

Still she hesitated. ‘So you’ll drop me at my resort hotel?’

Did she think he was about to abduct her? It wasn’t such a bad idea, if that was what it took to get her to listen to him. ‘Your private driver—at your service,’ he said with a mock bow.

She smiled that curving smile he found so delightful. The combination of astute businesswoman and quick-to-laughter Party Queen was part of her appeal.

‘Okay, I accept the offer,’ she said.

The warm midday air hit him as they left the air-conditioning of the terminal. Eliza shrugged off her jacket to reveal a simple white top that emphasised the curves of her breasts. She stretched out her slim, toned arms in a movement he found incredibly sensual, as if she were welcoming the sun to her in an embrace.

‘Nice and hot,’ she said with a sigh of pleasure. ‘Just what I want. Four days of relaxing and swimming and eating great food.’

‘April is a good time of year here,’ he said. ‘Less chance of cyclone and perfect conditions for diving on the Great Barrier Reef.’

The garage attendant had brought Jake’s new-model four-by-four to the front of the airport. It was a luxury to keep a car for infrequent use. Just as it was to keep a house up here that was rarely used. But he liked being able to come and go whenever he wanted. It had been his bolthole through the unhappiest times of his marriage.

‘Nice car,’ Eliza said.

Jake remembered they’d talked about cars at their first meeting. He’d been impressed by how knowledgeable she was. Face it—he’d been impressed by her. Period. No wonder she’d been such a difficult woman to forget.

He put her bag into the back, went to help her up into the passenger’s seat, but she had already swung herself effortlessly up. He noticed the sleek muscles in her arms and legs. Exercise was a non-negotiable part of her day, he suspected. Everything about her spoke of discipline and control. He wondered how it would be to see her come to pieces with pleasure in his arms.

Jake settled himself into the driver’s seat. ‘Have you been to Port Douglas before?’ he asked.

‘Yes, but not for some time,’ she said. ‘I loved it and always wanted to come back. But there’s been no time for vacations. As you know, Party Queens took off quickly. It’s an intense, people-driven business. I can’t be away from it for long. But I need to free my head to think about how we can make it work with Gemma not on the ground.’

Can’t or didn’t want to be away from her job? Jake had recognised a fellow workaholic when he’d first met her.

‘So you’re familiar with the drive from Cairns to Port Douglas?’

With rainforest on one side and the sea on the other, it was considered one of the most scenic drives in Australia.

‘I planned the timing of my flight to make sure I saw it in daylight.’

‘I get the feeling very little is left to chance with you, Eliza.’

‘You’ve got it,’ she said with a click of her fingers. ‘I plan, schedule, timetable and organise my life to the minute.’

She was the total opposite of his ex-wife. In looks, in personality, in attitude. The two women could not be more different.

‘You don’t like surprises?’ he asked.

‘Surprises have a habit of derailing one’s life.’

She stilled, almost imperceptibly, and there was a slight hitch to her voice that made him wonder about the kind of surprises that had hit her.

‘I like things to be on track. For me to be at the wheel.’

‘So by hijacking you I’ve ruined your plans for today?’

His unwilling passenger shrugged slender shoulders.

‘Just a deviation. I’m still heading for my resort. It will take the same amount of time. Just a different mode of transportation.’ She turned her head to face him. ‘Besides. I’m on vacation. From schedules and routine as much as from anything else.’

Eliza reached back and undid the tie from her ponytail, shook out her hair so it fell in a silky mass to her shoulders. With her hair down she looked even lovelier. Younger than her twenty-nine years. More relaxed. He’d like to run his hands through that hair, bunch it back from her face to kiss her. Instead he tightened his hands on the steering wheel as she settled back in her seat.

‘When you’re ready to tell me why I had to read about your divorce in the gossip columns rather than hear it from you,’ she said, ‘I’m all ears.’

CHAPTER THREE

JAKE WAS VERY good at speaking the language of computers and coding. At talking the talk when it came to commercial success. While still at university he had come up with a concept for ground-breaking software tools to streamline the digital workflow of large businesses. His friend Dominic Hunt had backed him. The resulting success had made a great deal of money for both young men. And Jake had continued on a winning streak that had made him a billionaire.

But for all his formidable skills Jake wasn’t great at talking about emotions. At admitting that he had fears and doubts. Or conceding to any kind of failure. It was one of the reasons he’d got into such trouble when he was younger. Why he’d fallen apart after the divorce. No matter how much he worked on it, he still considered it a character flaw.

He hoped he’d be able to make a good fist of explaining to Eliza why he hadn’t got in touch until now.

He put the four-by-four into gear and headed for the Captain Cook Highway to Port Douglas. Why they called it a highway, he’d never know—it was a narrow two-lane road in most places. To the left was dense vegetation, right back to the distant hills. To the right was the vastness of the Pacific Ocean, its turquoise sea bounded by narrow, deserted beaches, broken by small islands. In places the road ran almost next to the sand. He’d driven along this road many times, but never failed to be impressed by the grandeur of the view.

He didn’t look at Eliza but kept his eyes on the road. ‘I’ll cut straight to it,’ he said. ‘I want to apologise for not getting in touch when I said I would. I owe you an explanation.’

‘Fire away,’ Eliza said.

Her voice was cool. The implication? This had better be good.

He swallowed hard. ‘The divorce eventually came through three months ago.’

‘I heard. Congratulations.’

He couldn’t keep the cynical note from his voice. ‘You congratulate me. Lots of people congratulated me. A divorce party was even suggested. To celebrate my freedom from the ball and chain.’

‘Party Queens has organised a few divorce parties. They’re quite a thing these days.’

‘Not my thing,’ he said vehemently. ‘I didn’t want congratulations. Or parties to celebrate what I saw as a failure. The end of something that didn’t work.’

‘Was that because you were still...still in love with your wife?’

A quick glance showed Eliza had a tight grip on the red handbag she held on her lap. He hated talking about stuff like this. Even after all he’d worked on in the last months.

‘No. There hadn’t been any love there for a long time. It ended with no anger or animosity. Just indifference. Which was almost worse.’

He’d met his ex when they were both teenagers. They’d dated on and off over the early years. Marriage had felt inevitable. He’d changed a lot; she hadn’t wanted change. Then she’d betrayed him. He’d loved her. It had hurt.

‘That must have been traumatic in its own way.’ Eliza’s reply sounded studiously neutral.

‘More traumatic than I could have imagined. The process dragged on for too long.’

‘It must have been a relief when it was all settled.’

Again he read the subtext to her sentence: All settled, but you didn’t call me. It hinted at a hurt she couldn’t mask. Hurt caused by him. He had to make amends.