The Bridesmaid's Baby Bump. Kandy Shepherd
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want to explain.’
Eliza didn’t want to hear his half-hearted apologies. She glanced at her watch. ‘I don’t think so. My flight is about to be called.’
‘So is mine. Where are you headed?’
It would be childish to spit, None of your business, so she refrained. ‘Port Douglas.’
She’d been counting the days until she could get up to the resort in far north-east tropical Queensland. From Sydney she was flying to Cairns, the nearest airport. She needed to relax—to get away from everyday distractions so she could get her head around what she needed to do to ensure Party Queens’ ongoing success.
Jake’s expression, which had bordered on glum, brightened perceptibly. ‘Are you on Flight 321 to Cairns? So am I.’
Eliza felt the colour drain from her face. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. Australia was an enormous country. Yet she happened to be flying to the same destination as Jake Marlowe. What kind of cruel coincidence was that?
‘Yes,’ she said through gritted teeth.
Port Douglas was a reasonably sized town. The resort she was booked into was pretty much self-contained. She would make darn sure she didn’t bump into him.
Just then they called the flight. She went to rise from her seat. Jake put his hand on her arm to detain her. She flinched.
He spoke in a fierce undertone. ‘Please, Eliza. I know it was wrong of me not to have got in touch as I said I would. But I had good reason.’
She stared at him, uncertain whether or not to give him the benefit of the doubt. He seemed so sincere. But then he’d seemed so sincere at the wedding. Out there on the terrace, in a place and at a time that hardly seemed real any more. As if it had been a fairytale. How could she believe a word he said?
‘A phone call to explain would have sufficed. Even a text.’
‘That wouldn’t have worked. I want you to hear me out.’
There was something about his request that was difficult to resist. She wanted to hear what he had to say. Out of curiosity, if nothing else. Huh! Who was she kidding? How could she not want to hear what he had to say? After six months of wondering why the deafening silence?
She relented. ‘Perhaps we could meet for a coffee in Port Douglas.’ At a café. Not her room. Or his. For just enough time to hear his explanation. Then she could put Jake Marlowe behind her.
‘How are you getting to Port Douglas from Cairns?’ he asked.
‘I booked a shuttle bus from the airport to the resort.’
His eyebrows rose in such disbelief it forced from her a reluctant smile.
‘Yes, a shuttle bus. It’s quite comfortable—and so much cheaper than a taxi for an hour-long trip. That’s how we non-billionaires travel. I’m flying economy class, too.’
When she’d first started studying in Sydney, cut off from any family support because she’d refused to toe her father’s line, she’d had to budget for every cent. It was a habit she’d kept. Why waste money on a business class seat for a flight of less than three hours?
‘Then why...?’ He gestured around him at the exclusive waiting area.
‘I met a friend going through Security. She invited me in here on her guest pass. She went out on an earlier flight.’
‘Lucky for me—otherwise I might have missed you.’
She made a humph kind of sound at that, which drew a half-smile from him.
‘Contrary to what you might think, I’m very glad to see you,’ he said, in that deep, strong voice she found so very appealing.
‘That’s good to hear,’ she said, somewhat mollified. Of course she was glad to see him too—in spite of her better judgement. How could she deny even to herself that her every sense was zinging with awareness of him? She would have to be very careful not to be taken in by him again.
‘Are you going to Port Douglas on business or pleasure?’
‘Pleasure,’ she said, without thinking. Then regretted her response as a flush reddened on her cheeks.
She had fantasised over pleasure with him. When it came to Jake Marlowe it wasn’t so easy to switch off the attraction that had been ignited at their very first meeting. She would have to fight very hard against it.
It had taken some time to get her life to a steady state after her divorce, and she didn’t want it tipping over again. When she’d seen the media reports of Jake’s divorce, but hadn’t heard from him, she’d been flung back to a kind of angst she didn’t welcome. She cringed when she thought about how often she’d checked her phone for a call that had never come. It wasn’t a situation where she might have called him. And she hated not being in control—of her life, her emotions. Never did she want to give a man that kind of power over her.
‘I mean relaxation,’ she added hastily. ‘Yes, relaxation.’
‘Party Queens keeping you busy?’
‘Party Queens always keeps me busy. Too busy right now. That’s why I’m grabbing the chance for a break. I desperately need some time away from the office.’
‘Have you solved the Gemma problem?’
‘No. I need to give it more thought. Gemma will always be a director of Party Queens, for as long as the company exists. It’s just that—’
‘Can passengers Dunne and Marlowe please make their way to Gate Eleven, where their flight is ready for departure?’
The voice boomed over the intercom.
Eliza sat up abruptly, her newspaper falling in a flurry of pages to the floor. Hissed a swearword under her breath. ‘We’ve got to get going. I don’t want to miss that plane.’
‘How about I meet you at the other end and drive you to Port Douglas?’
Eliza hated being late. For anything. Flustered, she hardly heard him. ‘Uh...okay,’ she said, not fully aware of what she might be letting herself in for. ‘Let’s go!’
She grabbed her wheel-on cabin bag—her only luggage—and half-walked, half-ran towards the exit of the lounge.
Jake quickly caught up and led the way to the gate. Eliza had to make a real effort to keep up with his long stride. They made the flight with only seconds to spare. There was no time to say anything else as she breathlessly boarded the plane through the cattle class entrance while Jake headed to the pointy end up front.
* * *
Jake had a suspicion that Eliza might try to avoid him at Cairns airport. As soon as the flight landed he called through to the garage where he kept his car to have it brought round. Having had the advantage of being the first to disembark, he was there at the gate to head Eliza off.
She soon appeared, head down, intent, so didn’t see him as he waited for her. The last time he’d seen her she’d been resplendent in a ballgown. Now she looked just as good, in cut-off skinny pants that showed off her pert rear end and slim legs, topped with a form-fitting jacket. Deep blue again. She must like that colour. Her dark hair was pulled back in a high ponytail. She might travel Economy but she would look right at home in First Class.
For a moment he regretted the decision he’d made to keep her out of his life. Three months wasted in an Eliza-free zone. But the aftermath of his divorce had made him unfit for female company. Unfit for any company, if truth be told.
He’d been thrown so badly by the first big failure of his life that he’d gone completely out of kilter. Drunk too much. Made bad business decisions that had had serious repercussions to his bottom line. Mistakes he’d had to do everything in his power to fix. He had wealth, but it would never be enough to blot out the poverty of his childhood, to assuage the hunger for more that had got