The Unconventional Bride. Lindsay Armstrong

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      Her eyes widened in surprise. ‘Nothing. The usual, I mean. The boys will be home from school soon, so… Why?’

      ‘You don’t think it might be an idea to have a break from Raspberry Hill and all its problems?’

      ‘As in?’

      ‘As in dinner at a restaurant, nothing else,’ he said laconically.

      ‘Just you and I?’

      ‘Just you and I, Mel. What’s wrong with that?’

      ‘Oh, nothing,’ she assured him hastily, ‘except that I might fall asleep. I—’ she put her head back, stretched her neck and moved her head round a couple of times, ‘—I guess I did more—’

      ‘More fire-fighting than you should have,’ he completed for her. ‘All right, we’ll take a rain check.’ He stood up. ‘But I’ll take the bills home with me.’

      ‘Well,’ she temporised, ‘I—’

      ‘Now, Mel.’

      Despite her stiffness and feeling of exhaustion, she bounced up. ‘Do you have any idea how dictatorial you are, Etienne?’

      ‘Yes,’ he drawled. ‘It’s a good way to get things done. I’m not going home without them,’ he warned.

      She expressed herself colourfully.

      He grinned, and added insult to injury by patting her on the head. ‘Just get them, kid.’

      ‘No! I refuse to be treated like a kid let alone called one,’ she said through her teeth and stood her ground.

      ‘Well,’ his eyes glinted, ‘there are ways of dealing with stubborn women that you might prefer.’ He put one arm around her, bent her back against it and kissed her thoroughly.

      When he’d finished, Mel came up for air absolutely lost for words and unbelievably conscious of a flood of sensations rushing through her right down to the tips of her toes.

      Her lips felt bruised; she touched them involuntarily, but although his kiss had been a violation—she’d neither expected it nor asked for it—by some sort of subtle chemistry it had also been fascinating. While she was pressing against him, with his fingers stroking her throat, her skin had felt like silk, her breasts had tightened, and it had suddenly occurred to her that her hips were deliciously curved beneath his hand—something she’d not given much thought to before.

      To make matters worse, her woodland-nymph fantasy had come right back to mind…

      ‘Well,’ he said with a lurking smile, ‘you’re right and I was wrong. You certainly don’t feel like a child.’

      His gaze skimmed down her body then he waited as a tide of colour rushed into her cheeks, but words escaped her. He smiled a strange little smile. ‘May I have the bills now?’

      Her lips parted and she breathed deeply, but that was a mistake because it brought the whole smoky, wonderful essence of Etienne Hurst to her—as if she wasn’t already dizzy with the taste and feel of him—and all he could think of were her bills.

      She made an odd sound in her throat, whirled around and disappeared indoors.

      But she didn’t take the bills out to him. She seconded Mrs Bedwell to do it and took refuge in her bedroom.

      Several minutes later Mrs Bedwell knocked on the door and came in. ‘He said to say thanks. He said to tell you he’ll be back in a couple of days with a plan… What’s wrong with you, Mel?’

      ‘Nothing,’ Mel replied, although she was sitting on her bed hugging herself.

      ‘You look a bit shook up,’ Mrs Bedwell observed slowly. ‘You know, there was really no need for you to go fire-fighting like that.’

      ‘There’s every need for me to fight certain fires—uh—Mrs B, would you do me a favour?’ Mel stopped hugging herself and looked up at her housekeeper.

      ‘Sure.’

      But Mel took an exasperated breath because to ask her housekeeper to stop calling on Etienne Hurst and inviting him to lunch could have unforeseen consequences, knowing Mrs Bedwell as she did. ‘Nothing.’

      ‘OK.’ Mrs Bedwell shrugged. ‘What do you mean about “certain” fires?’

      ‘It was just a figure of speech, Mrs B.’ She got up and tried to collect herself. ‘What’s for dinner?’

      ‘That’s for me to know and you to wonder about!’ It was Mrs Bedwell’s stock answer and, having delivered it, she bestowed one more curious glance on Mel, and then left her to herself.

      CHAPTER FOUR

      FOUR days later, Etienne was back.

      Four terribly anxious days for Mel, since she’d received advice through her solicitor that, as she had no close relatives, the Department of Family Services would be looking into the situation of her brothers.

      This time, she was presiding over coffee and homemade shortbread while trying her best to be composed and as if she’d never been kissed witless by this man.

      It was a sparkling day as early spring graced the region, and from the vantage point of Raspberry Hill the waters of the Narrows glinted in the sun and the mock-orange bushes below the veranda were scenting the air.

      For some reason she had dressed up for this encounter, well, as much as she ever dressed up, which was to say that she wore a three-quarter flared denim skirt belted into her waist and a fresh white blouse. Her hair was tied back in a white scrunchie.

      In contrast, Etienne, in jeans, a khaki bush shirt and short boots, looked much more like a farmer than she did.

      He’d greeted her casually and with absolutely no reference to their last encounter. He’d also put a buff folder on the table but made no mention of it, although she couldn’t help her eyes being drawn to it frequently.

      So they made small talk while they drank their coffee and Batman made his usual fuss of Etienne.

      Then she could stand the suspense no longer. ‘Have you—’ she cleared her throat ‘—have you come up with a plan, Etienne?’

      He drummed his fingers on the folder then he put Batman down and got up to stroll over to the railing and stare out over the view for a couple of minutes.

      Finally he turned to her, folded his arms and said, ‘I think it would be a good idea if we got married, Mel.’

      She stared at him uncomprehendingly. ‘Is that the plan?’ she said eventually then added stupidly, ‘Why me?’

      He allowed himself a brief smile and from then on divided his attention between her and the sparkling view. ‘Isn’t it obvious? Raspberry Hill needs a lot of help, the boys need a father figure, and you yourself could do with a steadying hand to steer you down the right path.’

      Sheer rage glinted out of her deep СКАЧАТЬ