Madelaine had checked the mirror thirty-four times in the last ten minutes. What was with that?
She brushed herself down—again—took a peek up the hill at her steep driveway—again—and turned back inside to try and settle her nerves. Again.
Troy had rung to say he was on the nine a.m. boat and that he should be at her place at about eleven.
Round about now.
Keep Calm and Do Something.
Best thing to do? Get working. Get thee up to thy kitchens and work.
Work.
She rushed from her bedroom through the garage and charged up the driveway to the kitchens. There was always something to do there. At least today the tours had all come, loaded up their lunches and been on their way.
She wasn’t expecting any other groups and had no more orders from any independent travelers to fill, so staff had made an early day of it.
That left her alone. With Troy once he got here.
Would she still—? Wouldn’t she?
She pushed the kitchen doors open and stopped dead inside.
Troy turned to look at her. “House on fire?”
Shock. Surprise. Delight. All of which she was sure showed on her face, but she shook her head. “I was going to start on some stock. Maybe some pesto. Bake a couple of beef fillets.” Rattle, stutter, make stuff up. Be a fool.
He turned back to the view. “I’d nearly forgotten how perfect this is.”
“Good to see you.” She felt like she’d blurted that.
He swung around again, his eyebrows raised. “And you. How’re things?”
“Good. Busy. Good.” She tried to stop nodding her head. “I didn’t hear your car.”
He had his hands in his pockets. “I cruised down from the top of the driveway. I thought you’d already be in here.”
“Coffee?”
“No.”
Madelaine hid her surprise. She grabbed an apron from under the bench, donned it and headed for the butler’s pantry. “Okay. Well, I’ll put a pot on anyway. Can’t do without it, myself.”
She dumped grounds into the filter, topped the tank with fresh water and turned on the machine.
Emerging with a tight smile she turned smartly into the cool-room. At least the noise of the refrigeration saved her from having to make small talk. Especially as her tongue had glued itself to the roof of her mouth.
She loaded up on fresh basil, pine nuts, two great butt fillets, and a tray of assorted vegetables. She almost couldn’t see over the top.
“I’ll go check the fuel tanks.” He peered over the tray.
Her heart kicked under her ribs. “No need. I got the tanker out yesterday.” Living over forty kilometres from the nearest fuel station, Madelaine had a bowser on the property so her vehicles would always have fuel available.
She set the meat and vegetables on to the bench and heaved out the processor.
“Good.” Troy nodded, hands still in his pockets. “Did he check the water pumps for you?”
“Yes. Right after.” Madelaine rinsed the basil gently. Shook it a little. Rinsed another handful.
“How many cars out?”
“Eight went out, but they’re back. Drivers have gone home.” A lot of basil and pine nuts were shoved into the processor.
“Heard from Carol?”
“She’s fine. Happy.” Madelaine glanced at Troy.
“So’s Dad.”
Fresh roasted espresso coffee aroma filled their space.
“I’ve decided…” His voice drifted.
Madelaine looked at him again. He had a need-to-touch-him-look about him. She puffed out a small breath as her heart jumped a little again. “Yes?”
“That I should go away for a while.” He swung back to the view a moment or two, then back to her.
Her making-a-little-jump heart was now thudding. “Go away where?” She poured pine nuts into the blender, a lot of pine nuts.
“Haven’t decided that. The … extra cash is well invested, you’re okay here. I’ll check, maybe one of my cousins can do with a hand. Or maybe overseas somewhere.”
Her face grew hot. “So why are you here?”
“I said I’d come.” He stepped over to the bench, bent and retrieved two mugs. “Changed my mind about coffee.”
Madelaine watched as he disappeared into the pantry, heard him lift the pot and pour coffee.
“I’ve changed my mind about a couple of things, too.” She stopped pouring pine nuts; the blender was near to overflowing. She poured a whole heap back out into a spare bowl.
He came back with two mugs, placed one in front of her and sat on a stool on the other side of the bench.
“Why are you going away?” She pulsed the blender a couple of times.
He raised his voice. “What have you changed your mind about?”
“If you’re going away…” The blender stopped.
“I think I have to.” He closed his hands around his coffee. “Feel a bit at odds. All that money is doing my head in. Should be well used to the idea now, but I’m not.”
Madelaine left the blender, slid her coffee over the counter and came around to sit alongside him. “That’s not surprising.”
He nodded once. “I knew it was coming, or would eventually come, but it came pretty quickly. Took me a bit by surprise. And the rest. Big surprise.”
Madelaine looked at their hands, so very close together without touching. Both had their hands around their respective coffees. She stared at his hands.
Her heart thudded. Why would it thud when she stared at his hands?
Everything about him made her heart thud. Especially the news that he was going away. “Overseas, or mainland somewhere or—?”
“Haven’t decided. But soon. Especially if there’s not much for me to do here.” He stared at his hands around his coffee cup. “What have you changed your mind about?”
She sipped her coffee. Still too hot. “Well. If you’re free. While you’re here…” He didn’t move. “I thought that maybe we could dine in.”
He shrugged. “I’m not staying even tonight.”
“Oh. Okay.” Hiding sudden, fierce disappointment was not easy. “You only just got here, though and I thought—” She didn’t have a plan for this.
He turned and looked at her. “I want to get something out in the open.” He took one of her hands. Entwined their fingers. “Just as friends, I need you to know something.”
Madelaine gazed back. Those dark, serious eyes held her fast. Her breath caught. As friends. “Okay.”
He kneaded her fingers in his. “I don’t want to be just friends.”
Her face flamed. She was supposed to say something.
He squeezed her hands. “I know you already know that.” He waited a beat. “Right? Madelaine?”
“Yes. It’s okay. But—”
“Just friends, I know. We got married because we each had our reasons, just nothing to do with love, or long-term anything or even a proper relationship.”
Madelaine’s voice stopped in her throat. Love? Love? No-one was supposed to mention love. Relationship—?
“So I’m going away somewhere and you’re going to get on with it here.”
She stared at the hands holding hers. Then she raised her eyes and stared at his. Her gaze roamed over his gorgeous face. “Yes. I’ll get on with it here. Of course I will.” The beat of that moment lasted longer than she imagined it could, and then her voice jumped out of her mouth. “I mean, we could…just jump each other’s bones and—”
His eyes lit up. “Whoa.” Then he shook his head. “Don’t get me wrong. I’ve thought about it. If you were another girl, maybe. Maybe. But I don’t want you to regret a thing. Not one thing.” He bent to her hand and kissed it. “And you would if we went there now. I got that pretty clearly when you told me the night of our…the wedding.”
He sipped his coffee again and screwed up his nose. “Still too hot and I have to go.” He let her hands drop and slapped his on the bench-top. “Goodbye for now, Madelaine.” He stood, and as he dropped a light kiss on her mouth, his hand lingered in her hair. He trailed his fingers down her cheek, then he walked out of her kitchen, his back ramrod straight.
Her heartbeat pounded. Her ears ached. It wouldn’t be a good look to beg now. To run after him and drop to the ground clutching his leg, groveling in the dirt.
And he was right. She would regret it. She watched as he walked out of her kitchens and out of her sight. Why didn’t she just run after him and—
No point trying to talk him into anything now…don’t bother chasing him…
She toyed with the platinum wedding band hanging on a chain, warm between her breasts, and closed a fist over her thudding heart.
But she’d just propositioned him. And he’d knocked her back.
The shame of it.
Life seemed to have lost its shine all of a sudden.
***
Troy climbed back in his car. He sat for a minute, thoughts roiling around his head, nothing straightened out, nothing logical, no ducks in a row.
Just the glorious sight of her and what looked to be her struggling with whatever her next step might be.
When he finally turned the key in the ignition and drove off up the bloody hill that was her driveway, he heard himself mutter, “Well, if she wants it, she’ll have to come and get it.”