Mistaken Engagement (2 page)

Infuriatingly, he relaxed into a grin, holding his palms up in a gesture of innocent, misunderstood goodwill.

“Ooh.” She picked up a cushion and threw it at him. She’d spent years proving that she was herself, and not Stuart Wharton’s stepdaughter. She’d worked for everything she had. But with Saul throwing his weight around the hospital, they would all look at her differently.

“It’s not so bad, Grace.” He put the cushion aside and stood. “The family wants you at the bay, and you look like you need a holiday. Come and celebrate Australia Day with us. I’ll pick you up at six o’clock tomorrow morning.”

She fumed silently.

“And the two of us will show everyone we’re the best of friends,” he continued remorselessly. “Pack your bathing suit.”

“I won’t go surfing with you.”

“Then you can sit on the beach and admire my style.” A finger tapped her nose.

She nearly went cross-eyed watching it approach and retreat.

He grinned and let himself out of the house.

“Best of friends. Ha.” Grace stalked through the old house, resisting the urge to watch Saul drive away. A moment later, she heard the roar of the engine. The acceleration had all the hallmarks of his style; effortless control. “But not me. He needn’t think this is about him.”

She’d join the family at the bay for her mum and Gran’s sake, her step-grandmother was a lovely person. She didn’t want them worrying about her.

It was infuriating that they all worried that Saul had hurt her. None of them thought it could be the other way around.

“Saul the Invincible.” But that wasn’t fair. She knew he was genuinely kind, though he hid it from most people outside the family. For those he loved, he would do anything — even coax and emotionally blackmail an unattractive workaholic like her into holidaying with him.

The first time she’d visited Eagle Bay, she’d been out of her depth. After her father died, her mum and she had been alone for four years. To be suddenly thrust into the noisy chaos of the Wharton clan had left her bewildered, and as always, when she felt insecure, she withdrew.

Saul had rescued her, had saved her from setting up a dynamic in the family where she’d have been the poor little outsider. Oh, she still felt like that sometimes, but she knew the Whartons considered her one of theirs now.

In that long ago summer, when she’d been a skinny fifteen year old and he’d been the glamorous older man (all of twenty one), he’d organised a game of no rules water polo that had drawn her in despite her shyness. Then he’d hustled everyone to Gran’s house for ice cream and by the end of the afternoon, somehow, she belonged. Quiet, yes, but accepted.

She’d have gotten over her crush a lot faster if he hadn’t been kind.

He would ask after her studies and tell her a bit about whatever the latest technology or emerging industry he was investing in. They’d wrangle in a friendly way about politics and philosophy. But she’d always been aware he was out of her league: wealthy, successful, gorgeous and sexy.

“Enough.” She locked the front door.

She was house-sitting for her godparents. They were actors, as her dad had been. When their latest show had proven wildly successful, they’d gone on tour, leaving her in charge of the cute cottage conveniently close to the hospital.

She was not going to go down to the bay and play the poor little girl discarded by Saul.

“Friends.” She snorted. She’d show him friends.

She walked down the hallway to her room and studied her wardrobe. No inspiration there. Drab. Sensible. The opposite of provocative.

Provocative? Her eyebrows flew up. Was she really thinking of provoking Saul?

It might be possible. She knew how he liked his girlfriends to look. Her dad had been an actor for heaven’s sake. Surely she could fake the other women’s cool sophistication?

Common sense made a grab for her, but she slammed the wardrobe door on it. Every woman was entitled to be wild at some point in her life. The way Grace suddenly saw it, she was long overdue. The next time a man saw her, his gaze wouldn’t skip on to other women. She was going to be
all
woman: curved, sassy and ready for fun.

Saul didn’t notice when his brain stopped. He wouldn’t have noticed if a tank had thundered over his sports car parked in the street. Grace was wearing a pair of shorts that redefined the concept of indecency. They hugged her bottom and showed the hint of curved derriere when she stooped to pick up her weekend bag.

“Here, give me that.” He took it from her. But all that got him was a look straight down the tight shirt she was wearing, mostly unbuttoned. She’d tied the ends of it to expose a bare midriff and a cute bellybutton. Not that he cared about bellybuttons. Grace’s bra was red lace.

“Thanks.” She smiled and turned to lock up the house.

He found himself leaning closer, inhaling a tantalising feminine scent of lemon and lavender and spicy enticement. Abruptly he realised just how asinine he must look, and strode down the path to stow her bag in the car. He held the passenger door open for her and his gaze snagged on her bare legs. He usually dated tall women, but Grace’s legs had him rethinking that decision. They were smooth and toned, a runner’s legs.

“You must work out.”

“At the gym. But I also like to run when work allows it. Um. You can shut the door.” Her smile jolted him into moving.

He gave himself a quick reality check as he walked around to the driver’s side and slid in. This was Grace. The girl he’d saved from embarrassment at her parents’ anniversary party. True, his intervention had only opened up a new avenue of embarrassment, but he’d meant well. It wouldn’t do either of them any favours if he suddenly started noticing how good she looked. This weekend was about convincing the family that Grace and he had both moved on. They were friends again. No hard feelings.

It was important, not just because he hated featuring as the bastard at the family gatherings, but because he genuinely wanted to move on with his life. The feeling had coalesced on New Year’s Eve.

“If we show everyone we’re friends, the family will forget about our supposed broken engagement and we can move on.”

“Move on?”

He could feel Grace staring at him, though he kept his gaze on the road. “Yes. I want to be able to introduce my fiancée to the family without them worrying about your broken heart.”

“You’re engaged?” Her voice squeaked.

“No. But I aim to be.”

“So … what … where … who is she?”

“I haven’t met her yet. At least I don’t think I have.”

There was a long silence in which he cursed himself for sharing his private plans with Grace, well, he didn’t know what she was thinking.

She replied, “I take it you’re thinking of getting married, but now you just have to find the woman of your dreams.”

The tinge of sarcasm annoyed him, but he was grateful for her quick understanding. Grace had always been clever.

He moved his hands on the steering wheel, trying to work out what he wanted to say and if he wanted to share his motivations with her.

“I spent New Year’s Eve alone,” he said.

“Unusual.”

“Hmm. I sat on the balcony of my Cottesloe apartment. I could hear the revellers in the street. Drunk, laughing, happy. Young.”

“You’re not that old, Saul.”

He shrugged one shoulder. “I’m old enough that I’ve done everything a kid dreams of. Built a fortune. Dated models. Risked my neck in stupid adventures.”

“Now you sound old.” Laughter lilted in her voice. “I remember you telling me a person didn’t feel truly alive till they risked everything. You were contemplating sky diving as I recall.”

“I was running scared,” he said. “Physical risks are one thing. Emotional risks take a whole different sort of courage.”

Their arrival at the airport gave him a chance to avoid elaborating on the point. Grace waited inside while he ran through the pre-flight check. When he entered the lounge to collect her, he found two men talking with her, and blatantly admiring her as the beautiful and sexy woman she was.

The wave of possessiveness that ran through him intensified when Grace saw him and started forward instinctively. The other men fell back, acknowledging his claim.

“Stupid shorts.” She tugged down the scraps of nothingness as if they might stretch to cover her smooth thighs.

“I didn’t think they looked like your style.”

She glared at him.

Probably because he’d sounded too happy. He liked Grace when she looked normal. Casual, friendly and welcoming were normal for Grace. To see her as a sex goddess was unsettling. Every male instinct clamoured to answer the challenge she so naively presented. Instead, he let her climb into the plane by herself; no helping hand, no lingering touch. Okay, so he stood there and let his gaze linger on her cute butt. He was a guy. That was allowed.

Grace puffed a little breath of embarrassed relief. She hadn’t known how to handle the interest of the two men in the lounge. At least Saul didn’t look at her as if he was mentally stripping her. She hiccoughed a laugh. On the contrary, the way his eyes had bulged at the house, he would have liked to wrap her in an oversize caftan.

Acting like a sexually confident woman, rather than a shy workaholic, was a tough gig. And wasted effort. She no longer felt the need to resist Saul’s well-meant manipulation. Who could blame a guy for wanting the best for his family? Besides, his admission that he wanted a wife had thrown her.

Saul was all grown up. If she’d wanted to play games, she was too late. “Why did you tell everyone we were engaged?”

The headphones drained the emotion from their voices and replaced it with electronic precision. In some ways, that would make this whole conversation easier.

“I saw the moment when you noticed Ryan at the party. You’d been looking determinedly cheerful despite the shadows under your eyes, and suddenly you looked genuinely happy. Then I realised you were looking at Carrie’s boyfriend.”

He adjusted the controls. Below them, the south west corner of Australia stretched out. There were burnt patches, blackened areas where the devastating summer bushfires had raged.

Wildfires were terrifying. They were giant, devouring monsters. Fortunately, although a couple still burned, the authorities said they were contained.

Emotions could be just as destructive.

Saul glanced at her, but sunglasses disguised his expression. “I was standing near you when I heard Carrie say she and Ryan were engaged. You’d been smiling at him with dreams in your eyes. It seemed cruel to leave you alone and devastated.”

She winced at his insight and the picture of vulnerability he drew.

“Carrie and Ryan didn’t notice your feelings,” he said. “And even if they had, your rejection of our ‘engagement’ distracted everyone.”

“I guess you meant well.”

He grinned. “Damning with faint praise.”

“No. I mean, thank you. And I’ll play up to you, show everyone we’re friends.”

He took a hand off the controls of the small plane and touched her knee. He squeezed lightly. “Thanks, Grace.”

She wanted to curl up and cry. Forever the good friend, never the bride. But then, the engagement between Saul and her had never been real. Just like her dressing up like this wasn’t real. She could pretend to be sexy, but she lacked the true confidence in herself that made ordinary women stunning. Knowing she was loved made a woman glow. Grace wanted that happiness, that inner certainty of knowing she belonged somewhere, with someone.

“It was watching you with Ryan that made me realise what I was missing,” Saul said abruptly. “It haunted me. I want a woman to look at me with dreams in her eyes, not dollar signs or lust.” He shook his shoulders, like a dog shaking off water. “Well, lust is definitely okay. But I want more.”

“You’ll find it,” she said. He was too great a guy, under all the glamour of good looks and success, to stay on the shelf once he decided to marry. His quiet protectiveness would make any woman feel treasured. It wouldn’t be her. For all the fiction of their short engagement, she and Saul were worlds apart. A sad, wild longing sent a shiver of cold over her skin. She folded her arms tightly, hugging herself.

“For a while there, I didn’t think it existed. My parents’ marriage was a warzone.”

She nodded. Although his parents had been divorced for a couple of decades, the Whartons still spoke of the destructive fireworks in that marriage. She decided to match him honesty for honesty. “I never loved Ryan. I just thought he was … nice. The sort of guy you could build a life with.”

“I’m not nice.”

“No.” She smiled. “But you have other qualities.”

“Oh yeah?”

“You can fly.”

He waggled the joystick and the plane wobbled.

She laughed. “Okay, so maybe not very well, but I won’t tell anyone.”

It was a short drive, as country drives went, from the airport to Eagle Bay. Typically, the Whartons left a communal car at the airport for the family to use to get them to the coast. The kids who’d only just gotten their licenses were typically happy to ferry the car back and forward. Other times, someone who’d driven down, would collect flyers from the airport.