Marriage in Name Only

Chapter FIFTEEN


Two days later

‘HERE GOES …’ CHLOE said, smoothing her paintbrush on the wall and watching the happy yellow colour slowly hide the drab beige beneath, transforming her kitchen into a sunny room where she could teach herself to cook and grow herbs. Her kitchen. She smiled and jiggled her hips to the rock’n’roll party happening on her tinny radio on the window sill alongside her first pot of parsley.

She dipped her brush again, working rhythmically while she sang along and considered new possibilities. She could raise hens. Or ducks. Or get a cat. Now she’d committed to staying in one place for a while, a whole new world had opened up to her.

There was just one vital part missing in that world …

No—there he was again. In her head. In her heart. And she must let him go because she knew now she’d never fit in his world. This time she slapped her brush against the wall and felt its resulting cool, thick splash on her brow. She swiped it away with her forearm. She needed to get this place in shape so that she could invite her family over and show them she could be the person they wanted her to be. Correction, Chloe. The person she wanted to be.

Because being the person she wanted to be would surely impact on others she came into contact with in a positive way. Confident in herself and her abilities, wholly focused, steady and reliable. Constant. Jordan had taught her how to bring out those qualities she’d not realised she had.

The call she’d made this morning had been the hardest she’d ever made, but worth it. The familiar sound of Mum’s voice had brought so many emotions to the surface, she’d been tempted to tell her she could be there in forty minutes, but she needed to stick to her plan, no matter how hard, and take things slow for the next couple of weeks.

They’d talked for an hour. About the man who’d made it possible for Chloe to help out financially. About the prejudiced SOB who’d humiliated her. About the one who’d ripped her off. Both women had voiced regrets but Chloe spoke firmly about how she wanted things to be from now on.

Filled with new hope, she smiled, tempted to paint a rainbow arc across the wall with her little pots of trial colours. And why not?

The sound of a car pulling up outside had her glancing across the living space to the sitting-room window. Through the faded lacy scrim she could see a hulking black four-wheel drive with dull and dented bodywork that indicated it had endured its fair share of off-road adventures.

The driver climbed out, staring at her place behind mirrored sunglasses, and everything inside her stilled. The kind of tall, dark, broad-shouldered male who could send shivers down her spine just by being alive. Her heart bounded into her chest. Only one man could do that …

The paintbrush slid from her grasp and landed on the tarp she’d spread over the scarred timber floor. Dana, I’m going to kill you. She watched, frozen, as he trotted up her worn stone steps, then reared back when he disappeared from view and rang the little antique iron bell she’d painted blue and hung beside the door.

‘Chloe,’ she heard him say and he rang the bell again. When she still couldn’t move, he tapped on the door and said, ‘I know you’re there, Chloe, and I know you can hear me. I’ve come a long way and I’m not leaving until you see me, so answer the door. I just want to talk, so …’

So she pulled the door open and there he was and her heart raced and turned and tumbled over in her chest. Because he looked as if he’d done the ten-hour drive from Melbourne in seven and without a break. His face was shadow-stubbled, his shirt rumpled. And his eyes … they were bleary and bloodshot but there was also a clarity and resolution and maybe even a glimpse of something like fear that she’d never seen before and it had her heart tumbling some more.

‘Hello, Blondie.’

‘How did you know I could hear you?’ she demanded without a greeting and hanging on to the door for support.

He shrugged. ‘Took a chance. Can I come in?’

Oh, she missed that voice … but right now it sounded raspy and raw. ‘I think you’d better.’ She pulled the door wider. ‘You look … awful.’

One eyebrow lifted. ‘And you look gorgeous.’ His grin was lazy. Tired. The grin that always made her heart race.

Her mind awhirl, she gestured him inside. ‘Um … excuse the mess. I’m renovating.’

‘Renovating?’ His eyes widened in surprise, then he nodded. ‘So that’s what the splotch is.’ He raised a hand toward her brow, then let it drop and moved back as if he’d overstepped some boundary.

‘I wasn’t expecting … visitors.’ She glanced down at the paint-stained man’s flannel shirt she’d thrown on over her leggings and wanted to groan. ‘I’ll just go and—’

‘Don’t go.’ His gaze captured hers. ‘I just want to look at you a moment. You’re a balm for tired eyes.’

She tore her gaze away. ‘At least let me take off this paint shirt.’ Peeling it off her arms, she let it fall to the floor. ‘Better,’ she murmured, then frowned down at herself. ‘Or maybe not.’

Jordan’s fatigue-blurred vision still delighted in the sight of Chloe in leggings and an oversized shirt that reminded him of that faded T-shirt—the one she’d worn in Dubai the night she’d waited up for him when things hadn’t looked good for the mine. ‘You look beautiful whatever you’re wearing—oversize paint shirt or too-small rhinestone-covered costume.’

She paused at mention of that but didn’t look at him, heading towards a tiny kitchen cluttered with paint pots and rags and smelling of turpentine. ‘You should get some sleep—obviously your sight’s impaired,’ she said as she walked. ‘I’ll make you a warm drink—what do you want?’

You. Only you. ‘Whatever’s handy.’

‘Herbal tea, then.’

‘Fine.’

She cleared a space at a little round table, told him to have a seat, then fussed with the makings of the tea. The beat of an Aussie band on the radio masked the lack of conversation.

He waited until she set two cups of camomile tea on the table but she remained standing, twisting her fingers together and smelling of paint and perfume. ‘Sit down, Chloe.’ He leaned across and pulled out the chair next to him. ‘We need to talk.’

She took the chair opposite instead. ‘Yes.’

He sipped his tea thirstily to wet his dust-dry mouth before resting his arms on the table and looking into her eyes. ‘First off, I’ve been giving a lot of thought to why you ran away that last night. And when I say a lot of thought, I’ve thought of nothing else. Nothing. My work’s suffered and my PA’s probably going to quit unless I start being human again.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, her gaze darting away. ‘I didn’t mean for that to happen.’

‘You accused me of something I didn’t understand. Still don’t understand.’

‘I know. And I’m sorry for that too.’

‘Amongst other things—which I’ll get to directly—you said you couldn’t live in my world because you didn’t belong.’ He saw the pain in her eyes and wanted to reach out but didn’t know whether she’d welcome it. ‘Help me understand that, Chloe.’

She sighed, spread her hands on the table and studied them rather than look at him. ‘Remember the dragon you slayed for me in our desert honeymoon? Well, seems he’s not quite dead after all.’

Jordan’s eyes narrowed. ‘What the hell …?’

‘No, no, nothing like that. I’ve never seen him again.’ She blew out a breath and fixed her eyes on Jordan’s. ‘Okay, it was like this. We spent our time together in his home with his son. And that was fine—I was happy with that because I loved Brad too. But he never took me out unless it was to a private booth in an out-of-the-way restaurant. I never met his friends. Until one night when we bumped into a couple accidentally.’

A picture was forming in Jordan’s mind and making a lot of sense. ‘Like when we bumped into Wes and Sybil.’

‘Exactly like that. When we got home he told me it was over. I was devastated, and tried to discuss it. Long story short, he accused me of sexual harassment, made sure I couldn’t get a job with any nanny service in the UK. They wouldn’t take my word over his. He used me. Which is why I was so angry and upset with you that first night when you accused me of coming on to you.’

The blood simmered hot and dark through Jordan’s veins. ‘You should’ve told me. I would’ve understood, but you ran away.’

Chloe realised that now. Her pulse sped up. Was it too late? ‘You told me to stop running and I asked if you were talking about something permanent and I’ve never seen a guy so panicked.’

‘You caught me by surprise. You didn’t give me time.’

‘Well, I took your advice about running and bought this place. It’s mine. All mine. And I’m not going anywhere.’ She lifted her chin. ‘I’m going to raise chickens.’

He smiled slowly. ‘Can I tell you a story?’

She didn’t answer straight away. ‘Depends. Does it have a happy ending?’

‘I hope so.’ He leaned closer, so that she could smell the road and travel dust on his skin.

She nodded. ‘All good stories start with “once upon a time”.’

He smiled, the light in his eyes reminding her of springtime and new beginnings. ‘Okay. Once upon a time, there was a guy called Jordan who was locked in a tower. A prison of his own making, because he couldn’t see beyond his work and his meaningless relationships, and he thought he was content. He had no desire to escape until a girl called Blondie, who lived for adventure, fell into his lap. She was beautiful and kind and clever and he realised he’d be missing out on something amazing if he didn’t make this girl his.’

Make her his? Her heart stopped beating. Literally stopped. And swelled. And sang.

‘But now he’s not sure she’ll have him because it took him so long to realise he loves her and he’s not even sure whether she loves him back.’

Tears welled up into her eyes. ‘Oh, J—’

When she would have touched him, when she would have wept with joy and flung herself at him, he held up a hand. ‘Let me finish.’

He paused, then said, ‘So he wants adventurous Blondie to come on an adventure with him to explore what they have. He’s packed enough gear into his well-used off-road vehicle for the two of them for a few weeks. Or months. However long and however far she wants to go. He wants to take her into gold-mining country because he knows a thing or two about it. He wants to teach her a new skill—how to pan for gold during the day and … well, he has other things he’d like to teach her at night, under the stars.’

She drew a few stunned breaths while she processed everything. ‘What about his work? They can’t roam the gold-fields forever. Where will they live? Blondie just bought a house.’

‘He’s organised to have time off. He’s not taken leave since he took over the company so he figures he’s entitled. As for living arrangements, Jordan has responsibilities in Perth and Melbourne but he’s been thinking of opening up a branch in Sydney. There’s no reason why they can’t spend time in each place. As long as they’re together. As long as she loves him back. He thinks—’

‘Blondie’s pretty sure she agrees. She does know she’s definite about loving him back. Enough talk.’ Chloe scraped back her chair, plonked her butt on his lap and pressed her mouth to his to shut him up.

And he tasted so good—dark and rich and hers.

Then he hauled her against his chest and carried her to bed and they spent the next little while making warm slow love and not talking at all.

Hours later, when they woke and the evening sky was turning yellow, he reached for his discarded jeans and pulled a small square box out of the pocket. ‘Now will you wear this?’ He flipped it open and the familiar little gold ring glinted on a bed of blue velvet.

‘It’s a wedding ring,’ Chloe said, staring at it, remembering all the adventures they’d had while she was Mrs Jordan Blackstone. ‘We’re not married.’

‘Do you want to be?’

‘I always thought I couldn’t do marriage but I know now that it was because I was afraid. But with you—you give me the courage to give it a try.’

She looked up to see the sun shining in his eyes. ‘What about you? You told me you’re not a marrying man.’

‘I didn’t think I was. Until I found you.’

‘But you nearly married Lynette.’

The sun slid behind a cloud and his eyes sombred. ‘A manipulator. A liar. A gold-digger. And I was a fool.’

‘No. You were never a fool.’ Chloe rested her chin on his chest but didn’t take the ring. Not yet. ‘Will you tell me what happened now, since I’ve come clean with you?’

The corners of his mouth turned down as if he didn’t want to talk but needed to. ‘She was attractive, outgoing and intelligent and soon after we met I asked her to be my date at my annual charity ball. She showed a keen interest in the kids I was working with and it wasn’t long before she was talking about how if she had a house she’d do it up and provide a place-slash-time out for troubled kids blah, blah, blah.

‘Meanwhile, we were falling in love—at least I was. Or thought I was. So when she hinted several times that if we were married, we could foster kids in our own home, I fell for it. I understood those neglected kids because I’d been one of them. Not quite the same but even a rich kid knows how it feels to be unwanted.’

‘Your childhood wasn’t good …’

‘Ina never wanted kids. When I was born she refused to have any more, then as soon as she could she shipped me off to boarding school. On school holidays Dad used to take me out into the bush gold-panning. I loved those times.’

He shook his head as if he wanted to rid himself of the memories. Remembering Dana’s advice about him loathing sympathy, Chloe remained still and waited for him to continue.

‘Anyway, I owned a place in the city I’d been thinking of selling but I gifted it to Lynette as a wedding surprise the week before. I stupidly put it in her name.

‘We were due to get married in Las Vegas. She told me she had a last-minute errand to run before we flew out but she never turned up at the airport. She’d sold the house already and disappeared. I never saw her again.’

‘You didn’t try to find her? Get something back?’

‘I suppose I could have, but why would I expose myself for the idiot that I was? Even Foolish Freddy wouldn’t try to find her. That’s an end to it, Chloe. I don’t ever want to talk about her again.’

‘Thank you for telling me. Let’s make a deal to not talk about our past again.’

‘Done.’ His stomach grumbled at that moment, and, glad for the opportunity to change topics, she smoothed her palm over his lean, hard torso. ‘Hungry?’

He covered her hand and brought it to his lips for a nibble. ‘Since I haven’t eaten since I left Melbourne, yes.’

‘Gosh, when was that?’

‘It was dark, that’s all I remember. Chloe.’ He slid the gold band onto the finger on her right hand and eased it over the knuckle. A tight fit but manageable. ‘Wear your ring on this hand until we get married. Whenever that might be—a month from now or a year—up to you. But I want to see my gold there and know we’re partners. That we’ve made a promise. A commitment. That you’re prepared to take on the biggest challenge of your life.’

She smiled at that man she loved through misty eyes. ‘It’s a deal. And now we’ve made that promise … how does Christmas sound?’

Jordan felt a grin break out on his face, a relief after the tension he’d endured since he’d made his decision. ‘It sounds amazing. Like you.’ He breathed in the scent of her hair and let it out on a sigh of contentment. Home. He was finally home. ‘Do you want the big event or the register office?’

‘I don’t care, but do know I want my family there when we do it.’

That knowledge pleased him immensely. For all her adventures, he knew she missed them, that she needed that bond of family. ‘So have you seen them yet?’

‘I was waiting till I got this place fixed up …’ She shook her head. ‘I know I said I was up for any challenge, but, even though I’ve talked to Mum and we understand each other better now, I’m still a bit scared of actually facing up to them.’

He reached for her hand, his fingers sliding over the ring of golden promise. ‘We’ll go face them together.’

‘We will?’

‘Of course we will. We’re partners, a team. And they’re my future in-laws. I’m looking forward to being part of a family again.’

Chloe rested her chin on his chest, looked into the cerulean-blue depths of his eyes and saw forever. ‘Partners. Pookie and Blondie.’

He nodded, those eyes crinkling up at the edges. ‘And they lived happily ever after.’