In the Australian's Bed: The Passion Price / The Australian's Convenient Bride / The Australian's Marriage Demand. Miranda Lee
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would be like with him now? I mean, he’s sure to be very good in the sack. If what you say about him is true, he’s had plenty of practice.’
‘Too much practice. No, I’m not curious about his lovemaking abilities,’ she lied. ‘Only about his character and whether he’s going to be good for Alex.’
‘You know, Angelina, you’re a woman as well as a mother. Do you ever think of your own needs?’
‘Yes, of course I do.’
‘But I’ve never known you to go out on a date. Not during the time I’ve worked here, anyway.’
‘Dating is seriously overrated. And so is sex.’
‘Don’t knock it till you try it.’
Angelina flushed. ‘Who says I haven’t?’
‘I have eyes, honey. And ears. If you’d slept with someone around here, I’d know about it. Look, your father’s gone now and Alex is almost grown up. Time for you to live a little.’
‘Maybe. But not with Jake.’ I’d probably fall in love with him again and then where would I be?
‘Yeah, perhaps you’re right. If you slept with him, it could be awkward once he finds out about Alex. He might think you were trying to trap him into marriage.’
‘I’d be more concerned over what Alex thought.’
‘I dare say you would. You’re a very good mother, Angelina. You put me to shame sometimes.’
‘Nonsense. You’re a great mother.’
‘I try to be. Talking of kids, I have to go and ring mine. See what the little devils are up to.’
‘And I have to ring Alex and see how he did at cricket today.’
‘Being a mother just never stops, does it?’ And with a parting grin, Wilomena hurried off.
Angelina sighed and made her way down the rest of the path and through the covered archway that provided protection for arriving guests. A green Jaguar was parked there, with a middle-aged couple inside booking in. Angelina slipped through a side-gate just past Reception that led into a private courtyard attached to the manager’s quarters, a spacious two-bedroomed unit with an en suite to the main.
She and Alex had moved in there two years ago after Angelina had started doing night shifts at the reception desk. The excuse she’d used for the move was that the old farmhouse where they’d been living, and where she’d been born and brought up, was a couple of hundred metres away, far too long a walk for her at night. Or so she had told her father. Papa had not been happy with their move at first, but he’d got used to it. Besides, when Alex came home on holiday, he’d often stayed with his grandfather in his old room.
Angelina rarely ventured back there, the house not having all that many good memories for her. She’d been a lonely child living there, and an even lonelier single mother. She much preferred her memoryless apartment with its fresh cream walls, cream floor coverings and all mod cons. She liked the modern furniture too, having never been fond of the heavy and ornate furniture her father had preferred. Now that her father was gone, Arnold was living in the old farmhouse, free accommodation being part of his contract as Ambrosia’s wine-maker.
Of course, Alex hadn’t liked that at all, having someone else living in his grandfather’s house. But that was just too bad.
Another sigh escaped Angelina’s lips as she let herself in the front door. What a day it had been so far. And it wasn’t over yet.
She moved straight across the cream carpet to the side-table where she kept the phone, sitting down on the green and cream checked sofa and calling Alex on his cellphone. He should have finished playing cricket by now.
‘Yes, Mum,’ he answered after the second ring.
‘You lost,’ she said, knowing that tone of voice.
‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ he grumped.
‘Never mind. You’ll wallop them at the swimming carnival.’
‘We’d better. They’ll be insufferable if they win that, too.’
Alex had a killer competitive instinct. He was the one who would be insufferable.
‘So how’s things up there?’ he asked.
‘Everything’s fine. Arnold sold his place today.’ And your father showed up out of the blue.
Alex groaned. ‘Does that mean we’re stuck with him forever?’
‘Alex, I’m not sure what your problem is with Arnold. He’s a really nice man. You could learn a lot from him. Your grandfather said he was brilliant with whites. You know Papa was not at his best with whites. He was more of a red man. But no, we’re not stuck with him forever. He said he’s going to buy a little place over in Port Stephens with what he gets for his place, with enough left over for his retirement. He’s well aware how keen you are to take over and is more than willing to stand aside when you feel ready to take on the job of wine-maker.’
‘Good. Because I intend to do just that as soon as I finish my higher-school certificate.’
A prickle ran down Angelina’s spine. He sounded like Jake had today. So strong and so determined.
‘I won’t stand in your way, Alex,’ she said. ‘This place is your inheritance, and the job of wine-maker is your right.’
‘And I’m going to find my father, too. Not in November. I can’t wait that long. I’m going to start next holidays. At Easter.’
Angelina grimaced. Easter! That was only a few weeks away. Still, maybe it was for the best. She couldn’t stand the tension of such a long wait herself.
‘All right, Alex. You’ll get no further argument from me on that score. Come Easter, we’ll go find your father.’
‘Honest?’ Alex sounded amazed. ‘You’re not going to make a fuss?’
‘No.’
‘Cool. You’re the best, Mum.’
‘Mmm.’
‘Got to go. The dinner bell’s gone. Love ya.’
‘Love you, too,’ she replied, but he’d already hung up.
Tears filled her eyes as she hung up too.
‘Lord knows what you’re crying over, Angelina,’ she muttered. ‘Things could be worse, as Arnold said.’
But she wasn’t entirely convinced.
CHAPTER SIX
JAKE paced back and forth across his living room, unable to eat, unable to sit and watch television or work or do any of the other activities that usually filled his alone-time.
The sleek, round, silver-framed clock on the wall pronounced that it was getting on for half-past eight. He’d dropped Dorothy off at her place in Rose Bay at seven-thirty, an hour earlier. The drive back from the Hunter Valley had taken a lot longer than the drive up. They’d been caught up in the Saturday-night traffic coming into the city, slowing to a crawl near the Harbour Bridge.
‘I won’t miss this when I move to the country,’ Dorothy had declared impatiently, which had rather amused Jake at the time. She should see how bad the traffic was in peak hours on a weekday. If there was an accident on the bridge, or in the tunnel, the lines of traffic didn’t crawl. They just stopped.
But that was city living for you.
Jake had declined Dorothy’s invitation to come in for a bite to eat, and now here he was, unfed and unable to relax, becoming increasingly agitated and angry. With himself.
He’d handled Angelina all wrong today. He’d come on to her way too strong, and way too fast. That might work with city babes in