CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

The warmer weather brought lots more groups traveling but Madelaine could swear she had many more FITs—fully independent travelers—as well. People in twos and fours driving themselves around and in need of gourmet picnics.

Troy’s extra pair of hands would have been welcome. She knew she was running herself ragged, trying to do too much and dragging the other staff along with her. She needed extra staff. And her current staff told her that, too.

Three weeks and a few days had passed since Carol and Liam had married … since she and Troy had married.

Troy had called of course, was all business, or friendly and joking … and sometimes there were even little silences in the conversation that she knew she should fill, but couldn’t. She didn’t know what to say.

Troy was due back in the next few days. He wasn’t sure when. He asked about the business and she told him everything was fine. He asked if she needed staff and she hesitated.

If she told him she needed help he’d be over like a shot. Anyone could fill the vacancy he left; it didn’t need to be him and she didn’t want it to sound as if it did need to be him.

Truth was, she wished it could be him. She knew it could only be him.

So why not tell him that, she raged to herself. And for the thousandth time.

She shook her head. If he felt anything the same as she did, he’d let her know. Isn’t that how it was supposed to be?

At least he was coming to the island soon, this week. She’d work something out, make a plan to sit down and have a good talk about things.

Things. Things.

She slapped her hands to her face and dragged them down. What things?

Her phone rattled on the bench and she snatched it up. “Hi, Fiona.”

“How’s it going?”

“Good.”

“How’s it going really?”

“…Good.”

“When’s he coming?”

“Next few days. I haven’t got an exact day yet.” Then Fiona was silent for so long that Madelaine thought she’d been cut off. “You there?”

“Yeah, I’m here. What are you going to do about Troy?”

“I don’t know.”

“You got a chance here, Madds, to see if you can make something of it. I mean for real.”

“I don’t love him.”

“You do.”

“All right. I know. Maybe. Not yet.”

“But you’re well on the way, aren’t you? And when I think about how he looks at you—”

“Don’t. I don’t know how to handle this, any of it. I don’t do friends-with-benefits.”

“Oh, come on. We all do. Anyway, you’re not doing that if you feel the way you do about him. And what could it hurt? You are already married.”

“That’s just it. Would I have gone there if we weren’t married?”

“Yes. And don’t deny it—”

That’s my problem. I was maybe heading in that direction and it got all stuffed up when we got married. I’ve lost control of it.” Madelaine held the phone away from her mouth and yelled, “Arrrgggghhhhhh!”

Fiona sailed on. “So if I was in your shoes, I’d just pretend I wasn’t married. Try that. Just listen to your hormones and forget about the fact you’re actually married. Take the control back.”

“Oh, for God’s sake, what a load of—” It dawned on her like a brick falling out of the sky. “Really?”

“That simple. Just put that married thing right out of your head.”

Madelaine huffed out a breath. “Well. It’s not like I went there for love, is it?”

Fiona breathed a sigh. “Nope.”

“It’s not like I vowed and declared till death us do part, did I?”

“Nope.”

“It’s not like I didn’t already like him.”

“Nope. Well, except for that first day with the car and the wallaby poop. I’ll call you in a couple of days. Darcy and I have to go for a check up tomorrow.”

“Oh, no problems?”

“No, no. Just a check up. By-eee.”

“Bye. And thanks. I think.” Madelaine closed the call. She tut-tutted herself.

She would make damn sure Troy knew that she was just out for a bit of fun with someone she liked but had no intention of settling down with.

Benefits. Friends. With.

Yes. She could do that.

Her belly tingled. She would cook dinner, wine and dine him. She would wear something simple. Stunning. Simply stunning.

Fresh flowers on the table.

Mood music…

Low lights in the bathroom.

Bathroom? Wow—she was even going too fast for herself.

But there’d be no strings attached. He wouldn’t have to hang around. She wasn’t going to cling and pretend they had something going on when there were no strings attached.

No strings attached. Friends. Benefits.

Because the strings that were already attached weren’t real strings. Were they?