Flight of Fantasy. Valerie Parv

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      CHAPTER TWO

      THE Sunshine Coast airport with its plush lounges and tropical gardens was a far cry from the sandy patch of Maroochy Beach where the first aircraft landing in the region took place in 1922.

      In those days, guests stayed in boarding houses designed in traditional Queensland style with wide, airy verandas but little in the way of luxuries. Today, their plane was met by a uniformed resort driver who whisked them in air-conditioned comfort to a new, low-rise resort hotel which fronted Coolum Beach.

      With the exception of a central core, the resort had no building higher than three floors. They nestled into the curve of the landscape, the colours chosen to echo the natural surroundings.

      Although sharply conscious of the man at her side who was supposed to be her husband, Eden was distracted by the patterns of light and texture the design created with its clever use of roof angles, overhangs and lattices.

      As their driver pointed out the resort’s own large tract of coastal rainforest alongside the golf fairways, she gave a sigh of longing. If only Slade hadn’t come along with his impossible demands, she would have looked forward to exploring the resort.

      She jumped when he enquired solicitously, ‘Ready, darling? We’re here.’

      They had arrived at Reception and their luggage was already being unloaded. A uniformed doorman held the limousine door for her to alight. Slade’s casual use of the endearment brought the colour rising to her cheeks and she ducked her head. It was one thing to agree to act as his wife but quite another to actually carry it out.

      ‘I something the matter, darling?’ he asked, materialising at her side.

      ‘Must you keep calling me that?’

      ‘It’s good practice,’ he said, unperturbed.

      ‘But everyone doesn’t have to think we’re married, only your doctor friend.’

      ‘Who is a highly intelligent man,’ Slade warned her. ‘The more comfortable we become with our roles, the more convincing we’ll be.’

      ‘I suppose so,’ she said on a sigh. ‘I hadn’t bargained on starting so soon.’

      ‘You didn’t find it difficult to keep up your act at work,’ he reminded her. ‘Why should it be a problem now?’

      Fresh colour flamed in her cheeks, sparked by anger this time. ‘All right, so I was in the wrong, but I’m doing my penance. Must you keep reminding me of it?’

      ‘Only when you need encouraging to play the part you agreed to.’

      She tossed her long hair expressively. ‘Was blackmailed into, you mean. The only redeeming feature is knowing that some underprivileged children will benefit from having my holiday ruined.’

      The hand she fluttered to express her frustration was captured in a firm grip. ‘It needn’t be ruined,’ he said in a soft undertone. ‘My wife is entitled to enjoy herself while she’s here.’

      She felt an instant lifting of her spirits which she refused to connect with the warmth of his fingers entwined with hers. ‘She is? I mean...I am? You mean it’s all right if I explore the rainforest and the wildlife sanctuary?’

      Her naive enthusiasm elicited a smile which softened the angles of his face, making him look almost attractive. ‘Of course. You’re free to explore while I attend the conference events. Provided you’re at my side at the opening and social occasions, the rest of the time is your own. Of course, that freedom doesn’t extend to holiday flirtations, you understand?’

      Steel fingers crept up and down her spine, chilling her with the reminder of her unwanted obligation. ‘Of course not,’ she mocked. ‘How would it. look if Slade Benedict’s wife was seen flirting with another man?’

      His hand clamped around her wrist, drawing her irresistibly closer until his lips brushed the curve of her ear. ‘I warn you not to try my patience, Eden. I want your word that you’ll go through with this to the best of your ability.’

      The alternative was disgrace and, quite probably, long-term unemployment. Besides, it was in a good cause, as he had just reminded her. ‘You have my word,’ she agreed. ‘Now will you release my hand? You’re hurting me.’

      ‘Not as much as I will if you go back on your promise,’ he vowed. But his fingers loosened and she retrieved her wrist, rubbing it significantly so that he would know how bruising his grip had been.

      But there was worse to come, she found when they were shown to their accommodation.

      ‘You can’t expect me to share a room with you,’ she seethed in an undertone, her glance moving to the porter who was delivering their luggage.

      Slade’s eyebrows lifted in mocking amusement. ‘Not a room, a suite. Married couples usually share sleeping quarters.’

      Despair throbbed through her. Despite his assurance, she was beginning to wonder how far he intended to take this charade. ‘Married couples, maybe. But we’re not...’

      ‘Not in need of another thing,’ he said, lifting his voice as the porter approached them. He accepted Slade’s generous tip with a salute and left, closing the door behind him.

      She was alone with Slade for the first time and a confusing medley of sensations assailed her. The sense of alarm, she understood. The prospect of sharing close quarters with him was enough to alarm any woman. But there was something else, too, an undercurrent of excitement which was even more shocking.

      ‘This wasn’t part of our agreement,’ she denied, annoyed by the betraying tremor which vibrated in her voice. She had the uncomfortable certainty that he saw through her facade of coolness to the cauldron of emotions seething inside her.

      ‘Scared, Eden?’ he asked in a voice as soft as a caress.

      ‘N-no.’ It was true, wasn’t it?

      His aura enveloped her as he came up behind her, resting his hands lightly on her shoulders, the warmth of them pervading her body. ‘Good. You shouldn’t be scared of me, ever.’

      Weakness invaded her limbs. ‘Then you understand why I can’t possibly agree to share your suite?’

      ‘I understand why you don’t wish to, but it’s necessary.’ His finger slid down her throat and came to rest on the pulse which fluttered like a caged bird. ‘Most women would find the prospect stimulating.’

      Her throbbing pulse betrayed how stimulating she found it, which was precisely why she dared not agree. For a heartbeat, she wondered what it would be like if she was really his wife, sharing this suite and... so much more.

      Shocked by the power of her thoughts, she wrenched free and went to the glass door which opened on to a wide terrace, fixing her gaze on the ocean view while she fought for composure.

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