Fiona was on the line. “So, how did last night go?”
“I was in bed at nine.”
“Wow.”
“Alone.”
“Oh. All night?”
“Yes. All night. I told you, this isn’t a marriage marriage. We haven’t slept together.” Madelaine was sure that, with practice, the thud in her stomach would go away whenever she thought of sleeping with Troy.
“How can you not do it? I know you like him. A lot. You mean you never have?”
“Never.”
“Came close?” Madelaine barely hesitated and Fiona latched on. “Aha!”
“No ‘aha’ about it. Nothing happened. We didn’t even get started. And just because we got married doesn’t mean we have to sleep together.”
“Oh. Really? Duh.”
“You know exactly why we got married. Nothing to do with love.”
“That might come. Besides, I didn’t say love.”
Madelaine puffed out a breath. “It’s not a prerequisite. Neither’s sleeping with him.”
“No, it’s not. But you know you want to. Are you going to go out with him, kind of like a reverse situation?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Madelaine had no answer for Fiona. She really had no answer. Who would understand? No one, she knew that.
“You could get to know him better, you know. You might even like being married to him.”
“All I feel like is that I was forced to marry. Even though I sort of volunteered.”
Fiona tsk-tsked. “So, not forced. You volunteered. Well, volunteer to sleep with him. It’d be wonderful.”
“I feel I’ve been railroaded. By them. I feel like I’ve railroaded myself, or sold me out or something.”
“Yeah, weird, huh? But you went there. And you’re running the risk of sounding like you’re whingeing. Cut it out.” Fiona waited a beat. “Has he gone to the mainland yet?”
“Yes.” Another thud in Madelaine’s stomach. “He left this morning.”
“When is he back?”
A double thud hit hard under her heart. “I don’t know. Maybe next week. He said he’d let me know.”
Madelaine heard a small squawking in the background. “I have to go,” Fiona said. “Darcy needs another feed. We might come out and see you tomorrow or something.”
“Great. Bye.” Madelaine pocketed her phone.
Am I whingeing? Am I making all this up? Am I just afraid?
For a crazy second when she’d heard it ring, she thought it might have been Troy. She couldn’t deny her own disappointment when it was Fiona calling.
She thought back to the wedding night when she was tucked against his chest. When he’d said her name. When she told him that this was all there’d be tonight.
When he sat back and just held her. Hadn’t made a move.
Until she said she was going to bed.
His hold on her had remained and when she hadn’t moved, he shifted a little and she dipped into the protective curve of his body.
“Stay here with me,” he’d said.
“If I stay,” she mumbled into his glorious chest, “I’ll do something I’ll regret.”
“Why regret? It’d be wonderful.”
Despite the warm, delicious pressure of his erection on her back, she told him why.
Slowly, he released her and she stumbled off to her room.
Now, when she looked up from where she sat on the bed in Troy’s room, empty of all his possessions, and looked out to sea, it was the first time ever she hadn’t given thanks for where she lived.
Because she didn’t even notice the view.
Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply, hoping to pick up a lingering scent.
She missed him.
“But darling girl, what’s the matter? You’ll probably settle in to a good working relationship. You might even become close friends.”
Madelaine wondered what it was about the whole thing that meant people like her mother and her best friend couldn’t see her predicament.
On the other end of the line, Carol continued. “It’s not like you can’t stand each other. I can tell he feels quite affectionate towards you.”
“Mum, it feels like it’s that thing where familiarity will breed contempt.”
“I think you’re thinking too much.”
At least her mother hadn’t said ‘whingeing’. But she thought of something else. “And what if he expects things just because we got married?”
“If you mean what I think you mean, I’m pretty sure you’d have discussed that before the event. And you did, didn’t you?”
Madelaine sighed. “Yes. No. Sort of. Well, I said my piece. He just agreed.”
“What a good man. When is he back on the island?”
“I don’t know.”
“Oh well, that shouldn’t be a worry for you. Carry on.”
“Mum—”
“If you want something to come of this, you need to talk to him and see if he feels the same way. It’s not like you can break anything. Or bust up. It’s not like any harm can come of being honest. Just try, darling.”
“I don’t know if I can explain myself properly.”
“I’m sure you’ll think of something. And quickly. Let me know when you’re visiting. Bye, my darling.” And Carol hung up.
***
“You look a bit distracted, Troy.” Liam leaned back in his chair, hands behind his head.
Troy glanced across from the window. “Gee. How can you tell?”
“It’s Madelaine, isn’t it?”
“You’re a genius. It’s the whole damn thing. Mainly Madelaine. I like her. A lot. I like her enough to want to get to know her. All that ordinary stuff.”
“Right. So?”
“I’m married to her.”
“And the two are mutually exclusive?”
Troy turned. “How would I know? She told me that because we’re already married we’ll never know if we were meant to be together.”
Liam squinted. “What?”
“That everything is just too convenient so no one will try, it’ll just be a given that we’ll have sex, everything will be okay and the fairytale will continue.”
“And the problem is?”
Troy threw his hands in the air. “I just want to take her out, make like we’re getting to know each other, forget the damned married thing. She won’t do it.”
“Do you know why?”
“No. Do you?”
“God, no. No point asking me.” Liam leaned forward to grab his coffee.
“Why not? You set this up.”
“You’re a grown man, you find out. You’re now enormously rich and you can stand on your own two feet.” Liam eyed his son over the top of the coffee cup. “At least, I think you can.”
Troy glared. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“It means, now you have Petny’s inheritance, it’s time to stop procrastinating and go out and take the bull by the horns. Go and make a life for yourself.”
“What is it you thought I was doing before I got married?”
Liam raised his eyebrows. “In a word? Nothing.” He leaned back in his seat again, ignoring the temper on his son’s face. “If you want it to be with Madelaine, do it. What are you so afraid of?”
“Not afraid of anything.” Troy hesitated. “Well, that depends.”
“You have a cool sixty-five millions dollars, a beautiful wife, and youth. Figure it out, and be quick about it.”
“I’m afraid I’ll stuff it up. Or worse.”
Liam’s eyebrows rose. “Worse?”
“That she’ll be right.”