The Morning After The Wedding Before (10 page)

A
FTER
waving the newly married couple off on their honeymoon, Jake convinced Emma to walk to Echo Point again later that morning. The air was cold but the sun was out for now, turning the Three Sisters a stark orange against the blue-tinged foliage. A bank of clouds was building; it would rain before nightfall.

‘So Stan’s driving your mum home,’ Jake said as they gazed over the valley. Bernice finding him in Emma’s room had been an unexpected and awkward moment. ‘Did she give you a hard time?’ Neither of them had spoken of the episode over breakfast, but it needed to be said.

‘No more than usual.’ Emma spoke casually, but he saw her posture dip as she leaned on the railing as if it might prop her up. ‘I hope Stan can put her in a better mood.’

‘If anyone can cheer Bernice up, Stan’s your man.’

Hanging on to the rail with both hands, she leaned back at a crazy angle and looked at the sky. ‘You know what? I don’t want to think about her
or
work today.’

‘Good girl.’ He covered her hands with his. ‘Today’s for us.’

‘Sounds perfect.’ Turning to him, she tipped her face up to his, last night’s sparkle still dancing in her eyes. She wore a faded tracksuit, scuffed sneakers and her hair was tied back into a loose coil which hung between her shoulderblades.
Without make-up, her face glowed with good health except for some luscious-looking peach-coloured lipgloss.

She looked … radiant. Last night’s gymnastics had done her a world of good. ‘Let’s go.’ Keeping her hand clasped firmly in his, he headed towards a walking trail which pointed to Katoomba Falls.

Seeing the spectacular World Heritage sights with Emma, he discovered their mutual enjoyment of exploring nature on foot. She shared his interest in the environment and the native flora and fauna they came across. Ancient ferns, rainbow lorikeets. They even glimpsed an echidna fossicking in the bushland nearby.

He persuaded her to cross the valley on the Skyway with the promise of lunch at the revolving restaurant at the other end. She buried her face against his chest as they swung out into space so high that the shadow of their cabin was the size of a newborn’s thumbnail on the Jurassic forest below.

Jake couldn’t remember a day he’d enjoyed more in a long time. Simple things like sharing a can of soda while they sat on a rock with the breeze at their backs and listened to the crystal sounds of the nearby Katoomba waterfall.

He was as interested in Emma’s mind and her opinions as he was in her body. Connecting with her, seeing that rare smile and finding out what they had in common, was as much a part of the day as the hot, lingering looks they exchanged, knowing the evening ahead promised to be as special as the last.

By mid-afternoon it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his hands off her, so they cut the sightseeing short and made a fast trip back to the hotel and his suite.

Later, surrounded by white candles in the gleaming
black spa of the stunning black bathroom, with its wide uninterrupted view, they sipped bubbly and watched the constantly changing panorama. A curtain of rain filled the valley floor, a blur of dull gold with the setting sun behind as the shower moved through in brilliant contrast to the encroaching stormy black sky.

But the best view was right in front of him.

Emma’s hair was catching the sun’s last feeble rays, and the soft glow of candlelight shone on her cheeks as daylight faded.

She was facing him across a mountain of bubbles, and in those sapphire eyes, with their stars and luminosity, he could see a load had been lifted. She’d let herself go for once in her life and had a good time.

How long would it take for the pressures of real life to tarnish that glow and eclipse the sparkle? After tomorrow’s short return journey to the urban rat race it was back to business for them both.

Which made it all the more important not to waste a single second of what was left of tonight.

He took her glass, set both flutes on the side of the spa, then slid forward, knees bent, so that his legs came around hers and her belly came into contact with his. Put his hands on her shoulders so he could look right into those eyes. ‘You’re a pleasure to be with, Emma Byrne.’

Emma stared into his warm brown eyes. She was going to pay for that pleasure sooner or later. This weekend had been one amazing adventure after another, one she’d remember for ever.

‘Hey, that’s supposed to make you smile, not frown.’

‘I’m not fr—’

‘You are. You get that little line between your eyebrows …’ He smoothed it away with a fingertip. ‘Okay, I’ve got something guaranteed to make you smile.’ His deep
voice rumbled between them and he pressed closer, his burgeoning hardness hot and impatient against her belly.

‘Mmm …’

‘See? Smiling already.’ He nipped his way up the side of her neck to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. ‘How am I doing?’ Tugged her earlobe between his lips, making her tingle.

‘Pretty well.’ His hands were a slippery delight on her shoulders.

‘Only pretty well?’

She closed her eyes the better to savour it. Him. ‘You can do better.’

A slow hand cruised down to her left breast to toy with her nipple. ‘How about this?’ He moved his mouth over hers and murmured, ‘Is this good?’

‘Mmm. Good.’
Very good
. She sighed and her lips opened under his probing tongue. It wasn’t only his fabulously sexy body and his skill as a lover, it was their easy rapport, their shared interests.

Or was it something deeper?

Before she could ponder or react to that significant and scary thought he surged forward, his hands on either side of her face, his dark eyes holding hers. Slowly, slowly, he pushed that glorious hardness inside her. Slow and slippery and … oh, he was persuasive. Addictive.

‘Tell me it’s the best you ever had,’ he demanded against her lips, withdrawing inch by excruciatingly exquisite inch, leaving her breathless and arching her hips in anticipation.

‘Ha!’ she managed. ‘Isn’t that what you guys all want to know?’

‘Tell me you want more.’ He leaned back just enough for her to see the wicked glint in his eyes and withdrew.

‘Yes,’ she moaned. ‘More.’ And moaned again as he pushed inside her, faster now, on a wild ride to paradise.

‘Come with me.’ His words sounded harsh and ragged against her ear as he came deep inside her.

‘Coming,’ she gasped as she rode over the edge of the velvet chasm with him.

Jake had chosen the room for its awesome view and the gas fire. The flames that licked over attractive smooth river stones provided warmth and intimacy. They sat in matching hotel robes on the rug in the flickering glow and shared the cold lobster and mango salad Room Service had delivered earlier.

He watched Emma slip a slice of mango between her lips. Tousled damp hair framed her face. Her eyes reflected the fire’s orange glow, turning them violet and mysterious.

He wanted to know more of her secrets. More about the product line she’d developed and why she was so passionate about it that she’d spend so much of her free time immersed in it and yet not pursue its potential further.

Was it a front to hide behind? Was she lonely or a natural loner? Was she a risk-taker or not?

She was different to the women he usually got involved with.
So
different from the synthetic types to be found in King’s Cross. Emma was sparkly and refreshing, a glint of dew on spring grass on a sunny morning. Her body was slender, firm, natural. Curves in all the right places and they were all real.

‘Taste.’ She swirled a sliver of lobster into the buttery sauce and held it to his lips. ‘It’s divine.’

He opened his mouth and let her feed him. Chewed a moment, savouring the flavour, the slight pressure of her finger against his lips.

The room’s muted glow cast intimate shadows. ‘Nothing beats romance, huh?’

She wiped her fingers on her napkin, her movements a
little jerky. Her eyes were still on his but rather than the dreamy violet from moments ago they were quicksilver-black. ‘I don’t do romance.’

The flat comment surprised him. ‘No?’ He waved an all-encompassing hand around the room—the flickering firelight on the walls, its warmth against his skin. ‘What do you call this? The candlelit spa we just enjoyed?’

‘Ambience.’

‘So define romance.’

‘Hearts and flowers and pretty words.’ Silver sliced through her gaze, a knife’s glint against ebony. ‘I don’t need them and I don’t want them.’

‘Why not?’ He saw the pain in her eyes before she looked away. ‘Surfer Boy wasn’t the romantic type?’

She shrugged. ‘That’s just it. He was. Something special every Friday night and a dozen red roses every Wednesday, with a pretty note to say he was thinking of me …’

Her story didn’t make sense to Jake. ‘You weren’t being totally honest with me about him the night of the dinner, were you?’

‘Just because I don’t want rom—’

‘It’s in your eyes. That’s why you’re not looking at me.’

‘I’m …’ Her shoulders drooped. ‘Okay. I didn’t slot him into my schedule. He slotted me into his. And I let him. Because, you see, I was stupidly in love with him.’

Jake reached out, trailed a finger down her cheek. ‘He’s even more of an idiot than I thought,’ he murmured.

She shook her head. ‘Romance is a lie to cover a lie.’

‘It doesn’t have to be, Emma.’

‘No romance, okay? No lies.’

‘Okay …’ He pressed her down and rolled her onto her back on the rug, unknotting her belt and spreading her robe wide. ‘Does that mean I can’t tell you you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever made love to by firelight?’

She reached for his robe, pushing it away, fingers stretching and flexing over his shoulders, her eyes duelling with his, a smile on her lips and that little dimple in her cheek winking as he lowered himself on top of her. ‘I’m okay with that.’

They had a late checkout on Monday morning so they spent it in bed and then enjoyed a quick lunch in a charming little rustic café before returning to Sydney. Emma had phoned in sick to work—something she’d never done before.

On the trip back she was almost tempted to open her laptop which Jake had returned to her, and catch up on the orders she’d neglected. But she knew she’d not be able to concentrate. Her mind was chock-full of distracting thoughts. So she watched the scenery flash by, and with it the slow return from fairytales and magical rides—of any kind—to civilisation and real life.

Real life. Depressing thought. Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep as they reached outer suburbia and let her mind drift back over the past two days.

She heard Jake speak on his mobile with his PA about some problem with a client that couldn’t wait, enjoying the deep, authoritative timbre in his voice, remembering how it sounded when he came deep inside her.

Emma’s phone signalled an incoming text. She considered ignoring it, but her responsible self wouldn’t allow her to. She opened it and stared at the message. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she murmured.

Jake glanced her way. ‘Something wrong?’

‘Mum’s gone to Melbourne. With Stan.’

‘Good for her.’ Jake’s voice was laced with a smile.

Emma texted back a reply before slipping her phone back into her bag. ‘She’s never done anything so impulsive in her life.’

‘Then it’s time she did.’ With his eyes on the road, Jake put a hand on her thigh. ‘Stan’s a good guy. She’ll be fine.’

‘Of course she will.’ She hoped. Because she wasn’t looking forward to the fall-out if things went wrong.

‘Your mum’s a hard woman, Em,’ he said, moments later. ‘I know she was ill for a long time …’

‘Clinical depression.’ Emma hugged her arms, remembering the stress she and Stella had endured as a result. ‘She’s recovered now, but the after-effects linger on.’
And on
.

‘Your dad’s death caused it?’

She shook her head. ‘She was depressed long before that. Dad didn’t love her and there were other women.’

‘Why didn’t she just kick him out or walk away?’

‘Because he had absolute control of her money. Remember, her generation isn’t ours. And maybe she
wanted
to play the martyr.’ The angst spilled out and it felt good. Really good. As if she was sweeping it out of her life. ‘Just before Dad died he invested what was left of her inheritance and lost the lot.’

She heard Jake exhale loudly. ‘That’s tough, Emma. That’s why you were always working?’

‘I couldn’t let the house be sold. It would’ve finished Mum off. Stella, being the nurturing soul she is, took on the role of carer.’

‘So, forgive me if this offends you, why the hell does Bernice treat you the way she does? And why do you let her?’

A question Emma had asked herself often enough. ‘Mum never appreciated the financial side of what I was doing—she just didn’t see it. And Stella’s been there for her in a more physical and emotional way.’

‘So you erected a barrier to protect yourself from the rejection.’

‘I guess I did. She doesn’t get to me any more.’

He glanced at her. ‘I disagree, Emma. It’s still there.’

She shrugged—maybe he was right—and watched the glimpses of the ocean through the windscreen as they neared Coogee. ‘She allowed my father to ruin her life. It spilled over to her daughters.’

And it reminded Emma why she wouldn’t allow herself to think of what she and Jake had as anything more than a sexy encounter. She’d enjoyed it for what it was. But never again would she rely on anyone for her own happiness.

It felt odd, pulling up in her driveway in the middle of a work-day afternoon. She felt as if she’d lived a lifetime since she’d been home.

Jake switched off the engine, and the sudden silence in the car’s confines seemed to shout. She busied herself searching her bag for her keys then realised she was already holding them.

She felt his gaze as he said, ‘I guess you’ll want to jump straight on your laptop and check out those orders that have piled up in your absence.’

His tone suggested that even if
she
wasn’t down from the clouds and quite ready to settle to work just yet he was. He was probably used to switching from pleasure to business without a blink.