Marriage in Name Only? (14 page)

‘Yes.’

‘Why is he so devoted to helping troubled teens?’

‘It stems from his past. He had a tough childhood that no kid should have to grow up with.’

‘I know he loved his dad, so was it his mother? He refused to speak about her.’

‘He won’t speak about her to anyone, but, according to Sadiq, she was a witch and his father was too weak to stand up to her.’

‘Poor kid.’ She understood rejection, and her heart twisted for what Jordan the child must have endured that he refused to acknowledge his own mother and counselled troubled youth.

‘Whatever you do, don’t let him hear your sympathy.’ Dana cleaned the knife and put it away. ‘Let’s call it a night here.’

‘But I haven’t fin—’

‘The morning’s soon enough.’ Dana glanced at her watch, answered an incoming text before slipping her phone in her bag and marching Chloe to the door by her elbow. ‘Come on, we’re going to unwind with a cappuccino at my favourite Chapel Street café. My treat, and I’m not taking no for an answer.’

Chloe frowned down at her flat shoes, work trousers and ‘Dana’s Events’ monogrammed uniform top. Unlike Dana, who hadn’t been wearing a uniform and had managed to grab her high-fashion fur coat on the way out.

‘I’m hardly dressed for going out. Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere?’

‘Only somewhere warm and cosy and familiar where the coffee’s hot and the lights are low.’

‘So you and Chloe enjoyed your
honeymoon.’
Sadiq leaned back in the dimly lit, high-backed booth specifically chosen for its privacy in the back of a classy out-of-the-way upstairs café on Chapel Street and studied Jordan over the rim of his glass. ‘Qasim mentioned it.’

‘Of course he did.’ Jordan tipped back his glass, swallowed long and deep. ‘Did he tell you the rest?’

‘He admired your honesty and courage and thought Chloe would be a good partner for you when you decide to make it legitimate. He’s not as unyielding as we thought.’

Jordan didn’t answer.
In a magic kingdom far, far away lived a princess with flaxen hair and amber eyes
. Storybook stuff.

‘Is she the reason you’re back in Melbourne again so soon?’

Sadiq’s question interrupted Jordan’s thoughts and he blinked away the image. ‘Had some work on the Tilson mine.’

‘Right.’

‘Yeah.’
Have you seen her?

‘No. But I reckon you need to.’

Crikeys, had he spoken aloud? ‘You’re starting to sound like your wife.’

‘Just saying. No reason to get defensive. Or is there?’ he murmured. ‘You never said how you two got on.’

Jordan took a while to answer. This was Sadiq, his best mate. The one who’d been there when Lynette had disappeared. ‘She was different. She wasn’t like any woman I’ve ever met—she saw me … differently.’

‘And it scares the hell out of you. Is that why you’ve relegated her to the past tense?’

‘Fact is, she didn’t want to continue what we had—how did she put it? No loose ends. So it’s a moot point.’

‘And you didn’t try to convince her otherwise?’

‘Why would I? One thing I’ll say for Chloe, she’s got a sensible head on her shoulders.’ Those beautiful creamy elegant shoulders …

‘What if she walked in here now?’

‘What if she did?’ He shrugged, unwilling to contemplate that scenario because there were too many unresolved questions.

‘What if she told you she’d changed her mind?’

‘Maybe I’d tell her I’d changed mine now.’ His fists tightened on the tabletop. ‘I won’t be manipulated by a woman’s passing whims.’

‘No one’s manipulating you, mate. Chloe’s not Lynette.’

‘There you are.’ At the sound of Dana’s voice, Jordan looked up and was confronted by not one manipulative woman, but two.

And then I saw her face …
As he stared at the woman he hadn’t seen in twelve days, give or take a couple of hours, the words from a familiar pop song danced through his head, carving up a path straight to his heart where they continued to stomp and stamp like a wild rock concert.

He heard Chloe’s stifled gasp and even though the lights
were dim her eyes looked like saucers, her complexion as pale and fragile as eggshell. She looked a hell of a lot like he felt. She was also wearing one of those unflattering Dana’s Events uniforms so maybe she was as innocent in this set-up as he.

Sadiq slid out of the high-backed bench seat and rose. ‘Dana and I are off to check out the latest sci-fi movie. Catch you two later.’

‘Hang on—’

‘No—’

Both he and Chloe protested at the same time.

Jordan stood, their partners in crime left and the two of them stared at each other.

‘I know you think I had something to do with this,’ Chloe said before he could speak, her eyes willing him to believe her. ‘But I didn’t.’

‘Seems fate threw us together one more time.’

‘Not fate, just two meddling friends of yours.’

‘They’ll keep. Might as well have a seat now you’re here.’

She hesitated before sliding into the seat opposite. ‘I won’t stay long, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’

‘Don’t we all? Coffee?’

‘Thank you.’

He summoned the waiter hovering nearby and ordered two cappuccinos. ‘You caught up with your parents yet?’

‘Only by email but they’re very grateful for the money. So thanks. I told them about … the breakup with Stewart and leaving—thanks to you for that too because I needed a kick up the backside to make it happen.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘Mum actually asked when I’m coming home. She’s finally emailing me herself now.’

‘She misses you. They all miss you.’

‘Maybe. I never thought they did.’

‘Maybe you never gave them a chance.’

‘Maybe I was afraid to.’

‘You’re going to tell them everything then?’

‘Not everything.’ He heard the hint of humour in her voice.

‘I’ve missed you too, Chloe.’ The words slipped from his mouth before he could call them back.

‘Oh.’ Her whole being seemed to light up like the sun appearing after morning mist and her eyes splashed with warmth and for a crazy second he thought maybe she’d missed him too, but then that grey mist rolled back and her smile wasn’t the smile he wanted to see. It was brittle and way too bright when she said, ‘Bet you say that to all the girls.’

Dammit, Chloe
. He’d thought he’d conquered vulnerability years ago but the iron fist squeezing his chest disabused him of that notion. That old feeling of craving even a scrap of his mother’s affection slid back like a dark tide. A kid’s lack of understanding. The hurt of being ignored. Resented.

‘Knowing my reputation with women, wouldn’t those sentiments be counter-productive?’ He pasted some kind of a grin on his lips that felt as if it didn’t belong. ‘After all, I wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea, would I?’

Chloe’s expression froze and she didn’t answer, sliding the sugar bowl around on the table between them in quick little circles and changing the topic. ‘I read your charity ball was a success. Not that I was checking up on you,’ she added quickly. ‘Dana
happened
to arrange for me to see a picture of you and your PA posing for the cameras.’

‘Did she?’ he clipped.

‘You’re big news in W.A. Australia-wide, in fact.’ She waved a hand about them, reminding him again of the way she moved—with elegance and a charming carelessness that had fascinated him from day one. ‘No wonder this place is so hard to get into and dimly lit and private for the right people. You really are a celebrity.’ Her eyes were dark honey tonight and everywhere but on his.

‘I’m as ordinary as you.’ Reaching over the table, he wrapped a hand around her busy one, waiting until he had her full attention to say, ‘I know a place not far from here that’s much more private.’

‘M
Y CAR’S PARKED
not far up the street. Are you game?’ he asked when she didn’t say anything.

Chloe was too stunned to answer. His voice was like velvet and addictive. She’d missed hearing that voice. The only time she heard it lately was in her sleep; when she managed to get to sleep, that was. She knew it was a bad decision, but always-up-for-a-challenge Chloe allowed her hand to be swallowed up in Jordan’s, and her head nodded almost without her consent.

She saw his eyes darken to midnight-blue as they slid out of the booth together. She followed him through the dimly lit café, down the narrow stairs and outside where the air was fresh and the bump of nearby music throbbed up through the pavement.

He didn’t ask what transport she’d used, escorting her protectively past a throng of party-goers. She breathed in his scent, the warmth of his hand at her back familiar and as comforting as it was arousing.

They passed a trendy clothing store, its light spilling over them, neon and bright. Every second stretched, every step seemed to take forever. Her breaths became shorter, shallower as urgency twisted like a live wire inside her and she realised they were almost running.

That might have been the reason they almost crashed into
a middle-aged couple coming from the opposite direction, but the instant they greeted Jordan by name Chloe knew they recognised him and had stepped into their path deliberately.

‘Well, if it isn’t Jordan Blackstone.’

‘Evening, Jordan.’ The couple spoke at the same time. The woman dripped with jewellery of the genuine kind, the man’s voice vibrated with the sound of money.

‘Good evening,’ Jordan replied amiably enough, still, Chloe felt his frustration hum through his fingertips as his hand tightened on hers. Courtesy demanded they stop. ‘Chloe, I’d like you to meet Wes and Sybil Hampton.’

She waited for more from Jordan; something that might indicate who she was and what she meant to him. Some kind of acknowledgement at least.

Nothing. Not a word. Pain cramped her whole body. She withdrew her hand from his—or maybe he let her go—and nodded at the couple with a murmured, ‘It’s nice to meet you.’

Wes said something about being pleased to meet her too and Sybil gave her a brief condescending smile and maybe she even spoke, but Chloe barely heard over the rushing noise in her ears. Because Jordan couldn’t have made it clearer that he didn’t want to be seen here with her.

The way Stewart had reacted when they’d bumped into friends on that last day.

‘Fancy running into you again so soon after the ball,’ Sybil gushed, touching Jordan’s arm, her rings flashing in the street light, Chloe forgotten. ‘We’re just on our way to meet the Brodericks for a light supper, if you’d like to join us …’ She trailed off, looking at Chloe, who was clearly
not
invited.

‘Not tonight, Sybil.’

‘Tomorrow, then. We’re touring a few wineries—it’s not too late to add an extra. The limo’s booked for nine a.m. Wanda’s coming and she’s been dying to catch up with you. I was only saying the other day th—’

‘Thanks, but I’m going to be busy,’ he said, edging away.

Her face creased with disappointment and she cast a telling glance at Chloe. ‘Well. Another time, then.’

‘Come on, Sybil,’ Wes muttered, nodding at Jordan as he prodded his wife forward. ‘Let the man and his lady friend go.’

Lady friend
in her uniform and work shoes. Way out of Jordan’s league and the Hamptons knew it. She could only be with him for one reason. Sex.

The interaction was enough time for Chloe to shake off the momentary insanity that had taken hold for a few unguarded moments. Insanity that would truly be her undoing if she succumbed to it.

As the couple walked off, Jordan reached for Chloe’s hand again, but she moved out of his way and stopped. ‘I’m not coming home with you, Jordan.’

His expression remained passive but there was a flash of … something … in his eyes. ‘Why not?’

‘I need to go.’

‘We’ll go to yours, then.’

‘No. I mean I need to move on. With my life. I’ve been in Melbourne too long.’

He studied her a moment, then shook his head. ‘That’s not what you’re really saying, is it.’ Not a question.

She lifted her chin anyway. ‘Who are you to tell me what I’m saying?’

‘I’m someone who cares,’ he said quietly. ‘Someone who knows you better than you think.’

Care wasn’t love, and it wasn’t enough—not from Jordan. She shook her head. ‘I’m going to Sydney. Catch up with my family.’

‘Great—I hope you enjoy the family reunion but I’m not buying your story this time, Chloe.’

‘It’s not a story,’ she said desperately.

His gaze narrowed. ‘You’re afraid to be with me.’

‘Those friends of yours—’

‘They’re not my friends, they’re business acquaintances. However they do donate huge sums of money to my charity.’

‘You didn’t introduce me to them as anyone who meant something to you.’

He paused, looking nonplussed. ‘I assumed you wanted to keep your anonymity. Sybil’s a busybody with connections in high—’

‘No.’
She jabbed a finger in the air. ‘You didn’t know how to introduce me because I don’t fit into your life like your other women. I’m a problem for you outside the bedroom. I’m not educated and wealthy like the people you associate with. I don’t belong here. With you. In your world.’

‘What the
hell
are you talking about?’ His body radiated an impatient energy and he shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted to the balls of his feet so he appeared to loom over her. ‘You’ll never belong anywhere because you never stay long enough. For once in your life, stop running. You might find what you’re looking for right here.’

The way he said it, the expression in his eyes, almost tempted her to believe. To hope. To take a chance …

‘What are you saying, Jordan? That you’re offering something permanent?’

She swore he paled beneath his tan, his eyes flashed
PANIC
in big blue letters and she had her answer. Any foolish dreams she might have had died right then and there on the footpath. ‘I didn’t think so.’

‘Permanent’s a big leap … I didn’t m—’

‘Enough.’ She shot out a staying hand. ‘Don’t worry, Jordan, South America’s next on my travel itinerary and
Carnaval
in Rio is only a few months away.’ Lies, all lies. ‘Thanks to your generosity. This time it’ll be first class all the way.’

Was it possible to smile when your soul was dying? But she managed it as she backed away, committing his face to memory, etching his image on her heart. ‘I’ll send you a postcard.’

‘Chloe—’

‘Don
’t
follow me.’ She turned around and began to walk. She knew he’d respect her wishes because she remembered the first night they’d met when she’d asked the same of him.

This time it was different. This time she was leaving her heart with him.

The next few days went by in a blur. She was truly sorry to tell Dana she was leaving with almost no notice—Chloe had never left a boss in the lurch that way. But not nearly as sorry as she was to be leaving Jordan without the right and final words being said between them. Dana said she understood Chloe’s decision but made her promise to keep in touch and leave her contact details.

It didn’t take much time for Chloe to pack her stuff and organise to relocate it to Sydney. She rode her scooter interstate, keeping at a leisurely pace and stopping twice overnight in little country towns.

When she arrived in Sydney, she found a clean, comfortable motel only forty minutes’ drive from her childhood home and adjacent to a park. It gave her time to think.

Jordan had said something that last time that she could not get out of her head:
You’ll never belong anywhere because you never stay long enough. For once in your life, stop running. You might find what you’re looking for …

True words, she realised, now. Every one.

With him, no matter how short their time had been, she’d learned how it felt to belong with someone. She’d realised he’d been protecting her, not embarrassed by her. That when their fling was over, he was assuring her privacy by not revealing
their past to the rest of the world. No one would ever call her Jordan’s ex-lover. He’d always accepted her as she was and never tried to change her.

It had taken Jordan to show her that running away wasn’t an answer. The big
P
word had scared him, no denying it, yet she’d run before giving him a chance to respond.

Left him before he could leave her.

And who could say how things might have ended? How it might have gone if she’d stayed and had a conversation about it?

So instead of renting, she put down roots for the first time in her life and bought a little Victorian terrace home in Paddington that was unoccupied and available immediately.
A renovator’s dream,
according to the ad. She spent the next couple of weeks keeping busy and focused on choosing furniture and fabrics, cushions and crockery.

Signing up for a three-year counselling course online that was starting in three months was thrilling and scary but that was a challenge she was confident she’d meet.

Meanwhile, exchanging regular emails with her family who still didn’t know she was back in Australia gave her time to plan how to re-establish those ties without letting them walk all over her.

But every night when she lay alone beneath her feather quilt, other thoughts and images tumbled through her head like a noisy street parade. Then she’d climb from her bed and sit for hours by the quaint glass doors that opened onto her narrow balcony with its panoramic view of old tin roofs and iron lace. By fate or coincidence, it faced south-west, so whichever city Jordan was in Chloe imagined him there. She also imagined having the guts to walk into his office and finally tell him what was in her heart and why she could never be with him.

In his Melbourne apartment, Jordan lay on his bed staring at the darkened ceiling. Nearly midnight. He supposed he should fix something to eat or even rouse himself enough to go out and grab some takeaway but his appetite was non-existent.

Who knew a month could pass so slowly? Or that he’d be such disgustingly bad company? Finally tonight Dana had told him not to turn up at her place until he’d made a decision. Yep, Jordan Blackstone, who prided himself on his decision-making skills.

The man who also prided himself on his ability to control his circumstances and never allowed emotions to interfere with his life.

That
man was history. He barked out a harsh laugh that seemed to echo back at him in the stillness. Yeah, a joke.

A woman had brought him to this. A tiny woman with mussed blonde hair and a smile that could tempt any man to lean in for just one taste.

Which was exactly how he’d got himself into this situation.

But unlike other women he’d known, Chloe had never tried to manipulate him. She might have fallen into his lap but she hadn’t fallen at his feet. A willing listener and friend, even when he’d pushed her away.

She wasn’t after fame or fortune. He’d discovered earlier today that an anonymous donation had been made to Rapper One. The exact same amount he’d deposited into Chloe’s account the night they’d returned to Australia. She’d donated her second instalment to his charity.

Money truly wasn’t important to her. She was proudly independent with a sense of humour and adventure. She’d accepted him for who he was, not what he could do for her.

She also had a vulnerable side she worked damn hard to hide by feigning carelessness and not sticking around—for fear of being left. A front, a mask. She’d never told him why
the man she’d loved had left her—and he was certain he’d left her and not the other way around—but clearly the scum was the reason she was always moving on.

Switching on his bedside light, he studied the paper Dana had given him again. Chloe’s address. An inner Sydney suburb. For how long? he wondered. How long would it be before the adventurer in her beckoned and she took off for places unknown?

And the next time he might never find her.

The thought struck out of nowhere with the speed and devastation of a lightning bolt. He sat up so fast he knocked the lamp to the floor with a crash of broken glass, plunging him into darkness.

He barely noticed. Urgency was pounding through his system, stabbing through his brain until all focus narrowed to a single pinpoint, one thought.

He couldn’t lose her.

He
wouldn’t
lose her.

He would
not
lose the woman he loved.

Hang on …
Love?
Every muscle in his body tightened. Every fibre, every sinew, vibrated as if he’d been tuned in to some great musical humming through the universe. His skin prickled, he heard his pulse drumming in his ears, the blood pumping through his heart. He didn’t know what to do with the energy so he sprang up off the bed and paced to the living room. Yes, he realised on a burst of something that felt like relief mingled with surprise—he loved Chloe, and he’d never felt so intense, so energised, so alive.

He’d always thought love made a man weak and yet he’d never felt so strong.

Strong enough to toss away his flawed and outdated ideas and reach out for something he’d never known he’d wanted until now.

He snatched up his phone. It was only a little after ten in
Perth and he paid Roma an exorbitant income to be available at odd hours.

He had much to consider and decisions to make. Urgently. Then he needed to put those decisions into action… .