Second Chance Bride (Montana Born Brides) (7 page)

At least, that had been his intention.

Now that she was coming with him to Broome he wasn’t so sure of his motives. She was fun. A breath of fresh air into his highly regulated existence. A temporary cowgirl for a short
-term problem.

And while sex wasn’t part of their deal, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t welcome it if it happened. He wasn’t looking for commitment but where was the risk? She was going home in a few days. And they were going to be sharing a villa after all. Sure, it was a big villa. Loads of space for two.

Loads and loads of space.

And one really big bed.

They went shopping the next day, to a boutique in a building that would have been right at home in Marietta: an old three level Victorian with arched windows and a
veranda that had been prettified up outside in pinks and whites. Inside was a confection of dainty bow-legged furniture topped with flower arrangements and there were crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and wall-length mirrors reflecting the rows and rows of tulle, satin, and silk dresses.

Scarlett had to pause
for a second, remembering a trip not long ago to the local bridal store,
Married in Marietta
, where she thought she’d found the bargain of the century. A two thousand dollar Vera Wang designer last-season gown marked down to three hundred and fifty bucks, all because some poor woman had been stood up at the church and wanted to return it. It had been crazy because she’d only gone in to the store for a look around because the town was full of the talk of the Graff Hotel’s one hundredth anniversary Great Wedding Giveaway. She knew she’d never be part of that, because she was so full of thinking about Travis and all his talk of soul mates and forever that she was dreaming what-ifs. But when she found the dress, it was like a sign. An omen.

Even if it came with more yards of frothy tulle than she’d had frosty winter mornings.

Even if it teetered so very dangerously on her own personal borderline between classy and meringue. What the hell did that matter?

It was a Vera Wang two thousand dollar dress on sale for three hundred and fifty bucks.

And she’d had to have it.

Travis would love it, she’d told herself. He’d get the surprise of his life when she turned
up on his doorstep, and then she’d be wearing it in mere weeks! She’d beat her sensible sister down the aisle and wouldn’t she be the good daughter for once?

Idiot!

“You okay?”

She looked into Mitch’s sky
-blue eyes and blinked away the past. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

He made her try on a dozen gorgeous cocktail dresses, any of which she would have been perfectly happy to wear, but he only let her stop when he found
it
: emerald green and the perfect foil to her hair, in a strapless design that hugged her breasts and fitted slim over her waist and hips in layers of ribbon-wide satin.

“You look amazing,” he said, and it wasn’t his words that warmed her through and through, it was the husky quality to his Aussie drawl and the raw heat in his eyes. If she’d had any qualms that he was dressing her to make his
ex feel bad, they were banished before they could take root. He was dressing her for him.

She’d never thought blue was a warm color, not until now, not until she’d felt this slow, warm glide of his eyes over her form leav
ing a smoking trail of heat.

So sex wasn’t part of this deal?

Didn’t mean it wasn’t going to happen.

Shoes and accessories were next. He took his time, not rushing and not checking out the sale items like she was, but going for
top shelf every time.

S
he wondered whether he was as attentive a lover as he was a shopper.

And then she remembered that first encounter in Bella’s, and the hot stroke of his tongue against her breast.

Oh yeah!

“We should work out some kind of story,” he said, when the shopping was done and they stopped for a bite of lunch, “
for when we’re in Broome. Someone’s bound to ask how we met.” Like Kristelle for example.

“Sure. So who are we expecting to meet up there? Apart from your ex and her lover.”

He shot her a dark look. “We’re staying at the same resort as Robbo and Kristelle and their parents.”

She raised her eyebrows. “What, with the bride and groom and
both
sets of parents?”

“Yeah, and the bridesmaid. Sharon, I think her name is.”

The reality of the task ahead suddenly loomed. Maybe this wouldn’t be quite the cake walk she’d imagined. Pretending to partner Mitch for an ex who might or might not be out for revenge was one thing. But questions would invariably be asked and the lie would grow and grow, and barefaced lying to decent people whom she had no wish to deceive and who’d never and were never likely to do her or her nearest and dearest any harm was another thing entirely. “That sounds like fun,” she fibbed. “Will there be alcohol?”

“Lots, I’m hoping. The villas have full butler service with all the trimmings.”

“Excellent.” Those butlers would no doubt be busy. “So what’s our story then?”

“I’m thinking we keep it simple. We met in
Kalgoorlie. You were backpacking around Australia and we bumped into each other.”

“Now there’s a bit of creative genius.”

“So what would you say?”

“No, I like it, let’s keep it simple. We met in
Kalgoorlie. No lie there. Me the hapless tourist and you who just happened to be in town for a few days. Almost the truth. How long have we been seeing each other?”

“Long enough to cover a couple of my leave periods. Let’s make it a bit over a month.”

“Okay. I was barely in Australia back that far, but nobody’s going to check my travel arrangements surely?”

“
Exactly how long have you been here?”

“Not long. Not relevant. I’m sure it won’t come up. So we met in
Kalgoorlie and clicked and the rest, as they say, is history.”

“Yeah,” he said uncertainly, “That ought to do it. What do you think?”

“Perfect,” she said. She just loved a man who spent time on the important things. Like shopping.

“I’ll get this one,” she said, going to pick up the tab as they left.

“Hey.” His hand came down on hers. “All expenses paid, remember?”

“Yeah, and you just paid for some absolute doozies. So allow me a little pride.”

He took his hand away. “Your wish is my command.”

“Atta boy,” she said with a smile. “That’s definitely more like it.”

The girl at the cash register punched in the order and brought up the total. “That’ll be twenty-five dollars and seventy cents, thanks.”

“There you go,” she said, handing over the notes and change she had ready in her hand. The girl counted it and flicked her eyes up suspiciously.

Scarlett had already turned away. “So where to next?”

“What about your change?”

“I gave her the right money.” She turned and the woman waved all okay.

“So how did you know how much
it would be before she’d put it in?”

She shrugged. “I added it up.”

“But there were no prices on the tab.”

“But there were on the menu.”

“You remembered?”

“It’s not rocket science, Mitch, it’s just a lunch tab. Now, what do we do next?”

They spent the rest of the day sightseeing. They walked the length of the main street, most of which Scarlett had already seen in passing, but this was stopping to check out the history of the buildings. And then Mitch took her to the town’s biggest attraction. Scarlett gazed over the massive Super Pit, the gold mine that was more than a mile long, half that wide and a quarter mile deep and that never slept, the sides stepped and dusty from the endless parade of giant trucks up and down the tiered terrain twenty-four hours a day.

It was late afternoon by the time they got there, and Scarlett’s feet were aching in her boots, but the view was breathtaking, the slanting sun casting a golden glow over the walls of the massive mine. Copper Mountain back home in Marietta had always seemed the biggest thing in the world to her, a huge backdrop to the town she’d grown up in, but this thing
—this mine—was mammoth.

“Is this like what you do up north?”

“Kind of, but it’s iron ore country up there, rich and red like you wouldn’t believe.”

“What do you actually do there?”

“Lots of things. As a mining engineer it can be anything from feasibility studies to mine planning and open cut design to budgets and reports. It can be physical one day and then you’re stuck in meetings the next. But it’s good. What do you do back home?”

She crossed her arms along the wire fence barrier and looked out over the vast hole in the ground. “Well, that’s a hard one. Drop out of things mostly. I worked in the
local diner for a while. Tried a bit of work at the salon where Mom works as a nail technician but it didn’t appeal. I’m not really qualified to do anything. Apart from screwing up. If I could make a living from that I’d be doing great.”

He was about to tell her she was being hard on herself again, but she was leaning her head on her arms looking at him and her green eyes were smiling and the sun was turning her scarlet hair as red as the Pilbara country where he worked
. The breeze was turning the loose tendrils of hair around her face into snakes and he thought,
beautiful
and couldn’t help but lean closer.

“You’ll find something,” he said, snagging a flying tendril and curling it behind her ear, knowing there just had to be something amazing in store that deserved this woman.

“Yeah, that’s what Aunt Margot says. She says sometimes the way isn’t clear straight up but you’re on the right track all along even if it winds around a bit. She’s got this Joseph Campbell quote she reels out at me whenever I’m feeling like I should be doing something serious with my life. It goes like this. She took a breath and looked skywards, as if she was concentrating on the words. ‘
If you follow your bliss, you put yourself on a kind of track, which has been there all the while waiting for you, and the life that you ought to be living is the one you are living
’.” She smiled and looked around. “How cool is that? It makes me feel better anyhow.”

“I like the sound of your Aunt Margot.”

“Yeah, she’s cool too. Always knows the right thing to say at the right time.”

“It won’t be long now until you see her.”

“Yeah.” And she did that measured blink of her eyes thing again and turned her head back out over the pit before she’d opened them. “Not long.”