From Waif To His Wife

She twisted her fingers together and his gaze dropped to her mother’s ring.

‘Incidentally, why are you wearing a wedding ring?’

‘I’m not.’ She explained about the ring. ‘I’d completely forgotten I was wearing it on my left hand.’

He shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘In the circumstances-protecting the local sensibilities, not to mention my reputation-it might have been a good idea.’

‘No, look, somehow we have to end this farce-’

‘Maisie,’ his eyes hardened, ‘this is another perfect example of leaping before you look. You’d never have got stranded on the Mary-Lue otherwise and you’ve done the same thing again!’

‘But-’

‘No buts,’ he ordered. ‘It’s not my fault the place is booked out and what did you expect me to do? Abandon you?’

Maisie bit her lip. ‘Well, no-and thanks for that, I mean, really, but masquerading as your wife is…’ She trailed off helplessly.

‘It’s done now,’ he said tersely. ‘And we’ll be getting out of Tonga as soon-as soon as I’ve sorted things out. Besides which,’ he added with a lethal little smile, ‘we’ve already spent a night together from which,’ he paused as she opened her mouth, but the look in his eyes was so quelling she shut it again, ‘from which,’ he continued, ‘despite cuddling up to me as if it came naturally, you emerged completely unscathed.’

‘I didn’t cuddle up!’

‘Oh, yes, you did,’ he contradicted.

To her mortification she went bright scarlet. ‘I-well, I apologise. I had no idea. I don’t know what made me-’

‘I do. You’d had a long, traumatic day, you were overtired, your mind was playing tricks on you-and you are pregnant.’

She could come up with absolutely nothing to refute this.

He smiled drily. ‘OK, here’s what I suggest. Have a shower while I go and order dinner. Is there anything you don’t eat?’

She shook her head.

He glanced at his watch. ‘We still have time but don’t be too long, there’s a good girl.’ And he strolled out of the sliding glass doors.

Maisie watched him go with a sudden little glint of fire in her eyes, then she stepped across and drew the curtains closed with something of a snap.

The en suite bathroom was modern and gleaming white and the shower was steaming hot.

She had to admit when she emerged, glowing, from it that she felt better. She pulled on her clean best jeans and her silky knit black top with silver studs. She pushed her feet into a pair of sandals and she rubbed her hair almost dry, then ran her hands through it several times until she was satisfied with it.

She moisturised her face and hesitated briefly. Then she applied some lip gloss, some silvery green eye-shadow and brushed on some mascara. It was during these ministrations that she realised she was starving and that gave her further impetus to leave the room and continue her masquerade as Rafe Sanderson’s wife.

She stopped dead for several moments a few feet from the veranda.

In all her earlier confusion she’d taken little in about the resort, but now, by the light of a full moon, the magic of it hit her.

The graceful palm trees, the beach almost on the doorstep, the white day-night lilies that lined the sandy pathways and the palm-thatched dining room with its shutters open to reveal the gleam of candlelight, the glint of polished glass-ware and the glorious aroma of food…

Rafe was waiting for her at a table for two. He’d ordered a glass of red wine for himself and a lemon, lime and bitters for her.

He rose to pull out her chair and, as she sank into it, he told her that he’d ordered fillet steak in a mushroom sauce for them. ‘Sound OK?’ he added.

Maisie hesitated then had to smile ruefully. ‘I feel as if I could demolish a whole cow.’

He laughed and she looked around. There were only three couples still dining.

‘It’s very nice,’ she murmured and sipped her drink.

‘Yes,’ he agreed.

She hesitated, remembering her resolve made in a flash of anger a short time ago, to refuse to allow herself to be treated like a naughty schoolgirl. But how to implement it? Get a conversation going that would show him she was a lot more mature than he gave her credit for?

She said the first thing that came into her head. ‘Are you musical?’

He thought for a moment. ‘No more than most. I can hold a tune, I can dance, but I can’t play anything. You- have the edge over me in that, Maisie.’

She looked amused. ‘Not much of an edge. But,’ she smiled openly, ‘it’s nice to know it’s there.’

He rubbed his jaw. ‘You’re actually looking for some edge over me?’

‘Yes.’

‘Why?’

‘Oh, damn,’ she laughed ruefully, ‘it hasn’t come out quite as I planned. I mean-I didn’t mean to admit it. I meant to show you through my informed conversation, my poise et cetera, et cetera, that I should not be treated like an irresponsible child. And,’ she added with a suddenly straight little look, ‘to have it remembered that I do have every right to be here.’

He grimaced. ‘You wanted to put me in my place well and truly?’

She pursed her lips. ‘I did. I have to tell you I’ve been angry and upset ever since you gave me the brush-off in Brisbane.’

He rubbed the bridge of his nose. ‘I should have known,’ he murmured ruefully. ‘I not only saw you jump into Moreton Bay, I fished you out. Well, my apologies, Maisie, I was in the wrong.’

She stared at him wide-eyed. ‘Do you really mean that?’

His eyes were wickedly amused. ‘Are you asking me to cross my heart and hope to die? Consider it done.’

She blinked, and their steaks arrived. She closed her eyes in appreciation of the divine aroma that rose from her plate. ‘Maybe it’s food!’ she said and her lashes flew up.

He looked into her green eyes. ‘Food?’

‘It’s quite impossible for me to stay angry with anyone in the presence of food, especially given this marvellously delectable meal in front of me.’

He laughed and murmured, ‘I’ll remember that. You’d better tuck in.’

From then on, conversation just seemed to come naturally to them. He asked about her parents and she told him something of her earlier life on a variety of army bases and the only shadow came when she told him about losing them.

She even glowed a little as he laughed at some of her reminiscences, but, once, she did ask herself what she thought she was doing. She had been distinctly annoyed with him for landing her in this situation, even if she had contributed to it. She still didn’t know whom he might be shielding.

But the questions disappeared from her mind because she simply couldn’t stop enjoying herself…

Halfway through a deliciously decadent dessert, she started to yawn.

‘Uh-oh,’ he said with a wry little smile.

‘What does that mean?’ she queried.

‘It means-when you need to sleep, you need to curl up like a cat.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s been a long day, but I’ve always been a good sleeper. When, that is, I’m not sleepwalking. No, just joking,’ she added as he frowned, ‘it’s only happened at rare intervals. I’m quite sure I’m safe tonight. Or rather, you’re quite safe tonight.’ A sparkle of humour lit her eyes.

He smiled perfunctorily and, despite her weariness, Maisie detected that the air had suddenly become threaded with tension between them as his grey gaze remained on her.

She was not to know that he’d been in a position to take in the reaction, of the other couples dining, to her arrival in the dining room.

She herself hadn’t registered the fact that all six people, men and women, had taken a second look.