The Australian Affairs Collection. Margaret Way
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Things didn’t turn out quite like that, however. Jess finished the dress around nine-thirty, after which she refused all offers of wine, saying she was tired, then drove back to the cottage. In actual fact she’d only just remembered that she’d promised to give her mother a ring. This she did whilst she opened a bottle of the white wine resting in the door of the fridge. She poured herself a large glass, sipping it as she sat at the kitchen table, and gave her mother an edited version of what had happened, telling her the truth about the dramas over the wedding and how she’d fixed the dress tonight, plus the plan for her to be a substitute matron of honour the next day. Naturally, she didn’t mention anything about her being thought of as Ben’s girlfriend or that she was staying with him, alone, in this cottage. She admitted staying as a guest at the winery but that was all.
‘It sounds like it’s been a rather surprising trip so far,’ her mother said.
‘It certainly has,’ Jess agreed with considerable irony as she poured herself a second glass of wine.
‘You’ll have to ring me tomorrow night and tell me all about the wedding.’
Jess winced. She could hardly tell her mother why that wasn’t going to happen.
‘Mum, the wedding’s not till late in the afternoon. By the time the reception is over and I get to bed, it’s going to be very late and I’m going to be exhausted. I’ll call you on Sunday morning. But not too early, mind. I might sleep in.’ Jess was grateful that her mother couldn’t see inside her head at this moment, as the images in there were not fit for a caring mother’s consumption.
‘Oh, all right,’ her mother said. ‘But don’t forget to take some photos. I’d love to see what you looked like. What you all looked like, actually. Which reminds me. What does this Ben fellow look like? You said he was nice but I have a feeling he’s good-looking, am I right?’
‘Yes, he’s very good-looking,’ she admitted, struggling to keep her voice calm in the face of a looming panic attack over her sexual inadequacies. ‘And very tall.’
‘Tall, dark and handsome, eh?’
‘No, he’s actually fair-haired, with blue eyes.’
‘And how old, did you say?’
‘I don’t know. Early thirties, perhaps.’
‘And rich?’
‘Filthy rich, Mum. His father’s a billionaire.’
‘Goodness. And did you tell him that you lost your job at Fab Fashions because of him?’
‘I did mention it. And he promised to see what he could do.’
‘Well, that was nice of him. But did he mean it?’
The jury was still out on that score. ‘Maybe. I guess we’ll have to wait and see, Mum. Now, I really must go. I’m tired.’ That was a lie. She had so much adrenaline flowing through her body at the moment that she had no hope of sleeping. That was why she was downing all this wine; sometimes wine made her sleepy. Unfortunately, it didn’t seem to be working.
‘Driving can be very tiring,’ her mother said. ‘Goodnight, darling. Sleep tight. Love you.’
Jess suddenly came over all emotional.
‘Love you too, Mum,’ she choked out, then hung up.
Jess decided after her third glass of wine that it definitely wasn’t working. So she put the half-drunk bottle back in the fridge and headed for the bathroom. A long, hot bath filled in another hour but didn’t relax her one iota. She’d just emerged from the bathroom, dressed in a nightie, when she heard a car screech to a stop in front of the cottage. Running to the front living room, Jess peered through the curtains in time to see Ben climb out of the back of a taxi.
Flustered—what on earth was he doing home this early?—she whirled to make a dash for the bedroom, in her haste catching her left foot under the curled up corner of a rug. She cried out as she fell, her hands bracing themselves to protect her face whilst her knees hit the wooden floorboards with a painful thud.
Ben heard Jess cry out as he made his way up onto the front veranda. He dashed inside, switching on the hall light and calling her name at the same time.
He found her sitting back on her haunches in the semi-dark on the living-room floor, dressed in a red satin nightie with spaghetti straps which showed off her gorgeous figure. Her lovely hair was down, spread over her shoulders in dishevelled disarray, adding to the criminally sexy picture she presented.
‘What happened?’ he asked, and held out his left hand to help her up.
‘I fell over,’ she said, but made no move to take his hand, her eyes on her ground. ‘My foot got caught under the rug.’
‘I see,’ he said, not seeing at all. What was she doing in this room, anyway? The lights weren’t on. Neither was the television. ‘Well, do you want to take my hand or are you going to stay there all night?’ he said, his tone betraying his inner frustration.
She glanced up at him.
Jess only just managed not to groan out loud. God, but he looked utterly gorgeous dressed in grey stone-washed jeans, an open-necked white shirt and a fabulous looking charcoal-grey jacket.
Finally, she placed her hand in his, his fingers closing tightly around hers as he pulled her to her feet.
‘What on earth are you doing home this early?’ she asked whilst she tried to ignore the direction of his gaze. Right where her erect nipples were poking against the red satin. Maybe he would think she was cold. Though she wasn’t, having turned off the air-conditioning when she’d got home. The temperature had dropped considerably once the sun had gone down but it was a nice twenty-three degrees inside the cottage.
‘Do you want the truth?’
‘Of course.’
‘I told Andy I had a vicious headache and that if he wanted me on deck tomorrow, then I should go home.’
‘And do you? Have a vicious headache?’
‘No. I simply couldn’t stop thinking about you.’
Jess tried not to let his flattering words seduce her but it was way too late for such a futile struggle.
‘I’ve been thinking about you too,’ she admitted somewhat shakily.
‘So do I still have to wait till tomorrow night?’
She shook her head.
She half-expected him to kiss her then but he didn’t. Instead, he just smiled.
‘I need a shower,’ he said. ‘I smell of beer. Can I tempt you to join me?’
The desire to lick her suddenly dry lips was intense but somehow she resisted. Jess swallowed instead, putting some moisture into her mouth. ‘I…I’ve just had a bath,’ she said, her voice thick and throaty.
‘Then you can come and watch.’
Jess blinked at him, her mouth falling open briefly before snapping shut again.
‘All right,’ she said, wondering if this was what he’d meant earlier about her liking him telling her what to do.
She did. Which was weird. If Colin or any of her other boyfriends had suggested the same thing to her, she would have told them to get lost. Bathrooms were private places, in her opinion. They weren’t places where you watched. Yet she wanted to watch Ben shower, didn’t she? She wanted to see him naked. Wanted to do all sorts of things she’d never done before.
Her head spun at the thought.
When she didn’t move, he frowned at her. ‘You’ve changed your mind already?’
Changed her mind? Was he insane? How could she possibly change her mind when she’d already lost it?