Chapter Six
CHAPTER SIX
C ARTER B ENNETT HAD been completely certain it would never happen to him.
So certain that he would only ever practise safe sex that he’d never got around to having the vasectomy he’d intended to.
He’d definitely never brought a woman back here—and nor did he generally lie in bed holding her after. But they were both silent, as if processing what had taken place, with Grace’s head on his chest as he stared at the ceiling.
It was she who spoke first.
‘You think I should have told you?’
He shook his head, but she was staring out of the French windows to the black moonless night so probably didn’t see. ‘You did tell me.’
‘I meant earlier...’ she amended. ‘If I’d told you I was a virgin you’d have turned that speedboat around.’
Carter thought of how badly he’d needed her and wasn’t so certain he would have.
‘I didn’t want your judgement,’ Grace told him.
‘What does that mean?’
‘For you to assume I couldn’t handle a one-night stand.’ Her voice was defiant as she pulled away from his embrace and rolled onto her back, then pulled the sheet up to cover her. ‘I put my life on hold for a long time. I’ll no doubt be doing the same again in the near future.’ She let out a shaky breath. ‘I wanted a night like this before I went back to reality.’
‘The reality is, we didn’t use anything.’
The defiance left Grace. ‘No...’
‘You’re not on the pill?’
‘I’m not.’
She closed her eyes, knew that in that part she’d been way more reckless than planned.
‘There’s a pill for the morning after...’ Even as she said it her voice trailed off. She was not sure if she wanted that option...
‘I’ll go to the pharmacy at nine,’ he said.
Grace said nothing.
‘That was a joke,’ Carter said. ‘Albeit a bad one...’
She turned, and was surprised to see that his rather haughty face wasn’t accusatory—in fact his features were softened by the slightest smile.
‘Grace, we are in the middle of nowhere.’
‘True...’ She found herself able to stay facing him. ‘I wasn’t thinking.’
‘Neither of us were,’ Carter agreed. ‘And you’re wrong. Had you told me back on the boat, I don’t think I’d have turned around.’ He paused, as if surprised by his own admission, but then he was frank. ‘I would, however, have made it far clearer that we had no future. I don’t get involved—’
Grace interrupted him. ‘Carter, we have no future.’ She looked him right in the eyes as she continued. ‘That was the best part about it.’
She had no real future.
Not one that involved dating and romance. Instead she had a sick mother to support—what guy would understand that?
And until tonight she’d had no real past—not when it came to men.
Or dating.
No social life or adventures to count.
For years she’d lived in some sort of vacuum, focussing on taking care of her mother, working while she could, losing herself a little more each day. If it hadn’t been for Violet, she’d barely have glimpsed the outside world.
‘It was just tonight—and, believe me, that’s all I wanted.’
‘Why wait, though?’ He frowned.
‘I’ve had a lot going on. It kind of killed any chance of romance.’
‘Well, if that’s what you feel you’ve missed out on, then we are certainly missuited—because I don’t do romance in any way shape or form.’
‘I know,’ Grace said, though she didn’t necessarily agree.
She thought about the fireflies, the way he had held her, the dancing in the ballroom. Not to mention the fact that they were still in his gorgeous bed, talking. This felt more romantic than she’d ever hoped.
Still, rather than admit that, she tried to make a joke. ‘At least I know now that I’m quiet in bed.’
He said nothing to that—didn’t even smile.
Oh, why did her jokes always fall flat? Grace thought.
But then she felt a shift, so subtle it was nothing she could define...just a light tension between them.
And she knew it was the stir of arousal.
How, when she was still coming down from her first time?
She took a breath, trying to ignore his naked body lying beside her, trying to ignore the thrum in hers. Forcing herself to consider the ramifications of that one, heady indulgence.
‘What if I am...?’ She could barely say the word, the thought too daunting to contemplate.
‘It will be dealt with.’
‘Hmm...’ Grace wasn’t sure she wanted to know what his method of dealing with things might be.
‘When are you due?’
When she didn’t answer, he persisted.
‘Grace, when was your last period?’
‘I’m not sure...’ She sat up, tried to get her head around dates, but it was hard to get her thoughts out of this night, let alone cast her mind back. ‘Just before I came away.’
‘It will most likely be okay.’
‘Yep.’ She took a breath and looked around the vast room. She knew he was trying to reassure her, but she didn’t feel reassured. She’d always wondered how people lost their heads and took risks...in truth she’d privately been a bit dismissive...
Now she knew better.
‘I ought to get back.’
‘Already?’
She nodded, and went to get up, but he reached for her shoulder to halt her.
‘Why are you being so brittle?’
‘Because I feel stupid,’ she admitted. ‘Because I wanted everything that happened tonight, except for the part where we didn’t use protection.’ She ran a hand through her wild hair and refused to let him see how panicked she felt. ‘Can I use your shower?’
‘Of course.’
She glanced around the room for her clothes...
‘They’re in the ballroom,’ he said.
‘God, so they are.’ She closed her eyes, a little mortified by the rather loose behaviour he seemed to have unearthed, but then opened them to his lazy smile.
‘I’ll find you a sarong.’
‘Thank you.’
‘I don’t have any female underwear, though.’
‘No hidden stash?’ she teased, and instantly regretted it.
Except he laughed, and she could, right there, have gone over and kissed him. Finally, someone who got her stupid jokes.
She looked at him, lying with the sheet barely covering that gorgeous body that had been over hers, and deep inside.
‘Shower?’ Grace said.
‘Just through there.’ Carter pointed, watching as she climbed out of bed, seeing a little of the evidence on her thigh and her gorgeous bottom and hardening again.
‘Can I use...?’ she began.
She was as turned on as he, he could see the glitter in her eyes, the way she bit her lip, her thighs poised as if she might dive back into bed.
‘Shampoo?’
‘Sure.’
He was still pointing as she disappeared into the bathroom and Carter stared at his own finger and knew he’d been tempted to crook it...to beckon her back to bed.
And that was not him.
Oh, Carter partook in a lot of morning-after sex, but he viewed that as necessary...a little like brushing your teeth. You felt better for the rest of the day for having done it.
He wasn’t so used to straight-after-sex sex, though...or resisting joining a lover in the shower.
He’d also like to correct her. He was rather certain she could soon be a very noisy lover.
And she was funny—that was new—lying in bed dwelling on another...
He liked her company and that was a whole other type of new.
Climbing out of bed, he picked up a couple of sarongs from his dresser. Covering the evidence of their coupling with the sheet, he left one out for the prior virgin, the other he wrapped around his hips, then walked out through the French doors and onto the balcony.
The sky was still navy, the dawn inching towards breaking. The clouds had drifted away, and the stars were taking their final moments to shine in the moonless sky. The usually muggy air had a morning-fresh tinge.
The recklessness of the night was concerning, but for now, very deliberately, he dwelt on the actual reason he was here.
He had dreaded returning, but it had been made easier by Grace.
This whole situation would be made easier by Grace.
He was certain she needed money for her mother, and he found it endearing that she refused to say.
God knew, he wasn’t used to that.
He admired that she had come to his bed with purpose, wanting to lose her virginity. Hell, he completely got that a night that could go nowhere held appeal.
Certainly it had for him, on too many occasions.
And he knew that if there was such a thing here Grace Andrews would already have called for a taxi.
As for pregnancy...?
He closed his eyes. He would not cloud his thoughts with that.
For Carter that was a separate issue entirely.
It wasn’t concern about a pregnancy, or a sense of charity, nor guilt that she’d been a virgin that had him considering his options. If he wanted to stop his cousin in his poisonous tracks, then marriage for a year would take care of that.
A year, though?
It had seemed unfathomable—in truth it still did. Yet for the first time he dwelt on that clause he’d so summarily dismissed.
Now it seemed doable.
He’d have to tell Grace why, though—have to share his past when he preferred not to. And he’d have to tell her that this place, even though he’d prefer that it didn’t, still mattered to him.
‘Hey...’
He turned his head as she came out on the balcony and joined him. Her hair was combed and slicked back.
‘Thanks for this,’ she said, gesturing to the black sarong he’d left out, then she looked up. ‘Wow...’ she said, gazing up at the canopy of stars and then staring down to the dark of the thick jungle stretched out in the distance. ‘Which way is the resort?’ she asked and her eyes followed to where he pointed. ‘So, no chance of walking back?’
‘None,’ Carter agreed. ‘Do you want breakfast?’ he offered. ‘We could take it up here and watch the sunrise. It’s pretty incredible.’
He saw her hesitation, knew she really just wanted one night, and it actually strengthened him, made the thoughts in his head take clearer shape. He wanted to be certain before he voiced them.
‘Are you going to cook?’
‘I don’t cook.’ He wasn’t going to summon breakfast, though. He didn’t want anyone else invading, nor his thoughts interrupted. ‘But Malay will have it all prepared in the kitchen. We can load up a tray and bring it back.’
‘Sounds good.’
They walked through the house she had barely noticed last night, down the curved stairs, and she paused at a photo of a baby smiling.
‘Is this your brother?’ She looked at the gorgeous almond eyes and spiky hair, the wide smile.
‘Why do you think that?’ Carter asked.
‘Well, he’s blond, and far too smiley to be you.’
Carter gave a low laugh. ‘You’re wrong—that is me.’
They wandered down a little further, and they came to an image that had her throat squeezing tight.
His mother was too beautiful for words, with blonde hair and fine features. His father was handsome, but perhaps not as arrogant-looking as Carter. And there he was, smiling again.
Then she looked at the baby Carter held in his arms.
‘He’s blond too,’ Grace said, and then wondered if she should have said was .
But all she could see was his soft spiky blond hair and huge eyes. He was such a beautiful baby, and his smile was so infectious that even though she felt her throat grow tighter she found that she was returning it.
Carter could not.
He didn’t see the smile. He just stared. Not at his parents, nor at Hugo, but at the silver teething ring his brother held in his hand.
What the hell had Arif been thinking? He should have left it where it belonged.
He walked away, and Grace followed him into the gorgeous kitchen. It was old but very, very beautiful, and as he put some coffee on she took a high stool.
He wondered how to broach things.
How to explain that he was considering asking her to be his temporary wife.
‘It looks as if you were a very happy family.’ Grace was undoubtedly still thinking of the photos. ‘Your parents were clearly in love.’
‘It’s easy to be happy when you don’t have responsibilities,’ Carter said dismissively. ‘They were happy at the expense of others...’ He glanced over. ‘I find love to be selfish.’
‘Selfish?’ Grace checked, and he nodded.
‘Extremely. My parents wanted adventure, to travel. To see the Northern Lights, sleep under the stars, trek through the jungle...’
‘I think that’s lovely.’
‘Until it isn’t. They had children.’
It had been Carter who had given Hugo his bottle when they’d gone out to gaze at a full moon. Carter who had checked there were enough provisions when they’d set out on yet another adventure.
While waiting for the coffee to brew he loaded a tray with a bowl of fruit and some pastries, and took some jugs from the fridge, scooping out some shaved ice.
‘What are you making?’
‘ABC,’ he told her. ‘Air batu campur,’ he explained, adding little balls of pale pink jelly to a bowl. ‘Well, the cheat’s version. Malay has made it—you just add your own fruit...’
And nuts, Grace thought, then tried to not pull a face when she saw him add to the tray a small dish of creamed corn. ‘It looks more like a dessert.’
‘Maybe...’ In truth, he was unsure whether it was because of his mother’s somewhat lackadaisical ways that Malay always served it for breakfast, or simply down to the heat.
There was too much he didn’t know, and too many memories. As he walked down the corridor, past the framed photos, he deliberately didn’t pause to look at them. He didn’t need them, for there were new images dancing before his eyes: a flash of himself feeding Hugo spoonsful of ice-cream.
He was certain now that it was seeing the teething ring that was to blame for this surge in sensation. Arif might just as well have unearthed Carter’s deeply buried heart.
There was a deep purple hue to the sky as they set up on the balcony, and he filled two bowls with ice, added the little balls of rosewater jelly and topped them with a red bean ice-cream.
‘Choose your fruit...’ he said, selecting some berries for himself.
She picked up a dark, heavy fruit, like a cross between a pomegranate and plum, but then, clearly unsure what to do with it, put it back.
Carter hesitated before reaching out for it. ‘Give it here...’
She handed him the fruit she’d discarded and he carved it effortlessly, the dark flesh opening to reveal pieces of white swollen bulbs. Carter stared at the lily-white pockets of flesh for a moment. He had always been averse to the delicate sweet scent they delivered—not that he showed it.
‘Mangosteen,’ he informed her, scooping out the fruit onto her plate, but taking none for himself.
‘It’s delicious...’ she said, popping a bulb in her mouth.
He wrinkled his nose.
‘You don’t like them?’
‘Not particularly.’
He’d lived off them for a week—not plump and ripe, as those ones were, though, but rotten and bitter...
Carter glanced at her, pouring syrup over her breakfast, and knew he had to broach things. But first he watched as Grace took her first tentative taste of the sweet, icy, milky concoction, then went back for a second taste.
She met his eyes and actually blushed.
‘What?’ he asked.
‘It’s nothing.’
‘Well, you’re either having an allergic reaction or...’
‘Okay, okay!’ She laughed. ‘Look, I’d never had sex until last night, but I’m guessing this is the perfect breakfast to have after.’
‘I guess I’m about to find out.’
He hadn’t really considered it in that way before.
He took a generous taste and nodded. ‘Correct,’ he said. ‘It’s definitely a good choice for...’
Then he paused, because if some foods belonged to Borneo, then this breakfast belonged to them, and he would not be partaking with another.
Not that he’d be telling her that.
Instead he moved the conversation to the reason he’d asked her out here—and it was not about sharing a romantic breakfast!
‘Those guys staying at the resort—the loud ones... You were right. Their intention is to turn the place into a film set.’
She pulled a resigned face as she put down the jug. ‘I thought it was just rumours,’ she said. ‘Or I hoped it was.’
She looked at him and he could see the disappointment clouding her eyes.
‘What sort of work do you do—films or...?’
‘I’m an architect.’
‘Oh.’ She gave a small downturned smile. ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She looked at the lovely old banyan tree. ‘Will you keep that?’
‘Grace, it’s my cousin Benedict who’s the one in discussion with them. Arif asked me to come here to try and come up with a plan to stop him.’
‘Phew!’ She gave him a smile. ‘So I don’t have to tie myself to the tree to dissuade you?’
‘You don’t.’
‘Is his surname Bennett too?’
Carter nodded.
‘Well, his parents didn’t put much thought into that.’
He found that he was smiling. ‘True...’ He even gave a small laugh. ‘I’ve never thought of it before. I tend to use another B-word when referring to him. He’s a bastard—always has been. His father was too.’
‘Can you say no?’
‘Of course,’ he nodded. ‘And I have repeatedly. It doesn’t stop their drones going up, though, or their boats going on the water, or Benedict inviting location scouts to wade through the grounds. They want to make some wildlife adventure show—and that’s just for starters. I don’t want to spend the next decade in some protracted legal battle.’
‘Over the house?’
‘It’s the land that’s the real issue. The division goes right up to the resort. When I first heard, I wasn’t that worried. I didn’t think they’d get insurance to film here.’
‘Oh, people pay a lot for danger these days.’
‘It would seem so.’
She smiled then, although not at him, and he turned and saw a tree full of little silverback monkeys.
‘They look like Christmas decorations.’
‘Greedy ones,’ he said, and made a noise to warn off one who was already reaching to jump onto the balcony.
‘So,’ she said, and he saw her trying to tear her eyes from the pretty babies running along the branches, ‘what are you going to do?’
‘Something extreme,’ Carter admitted.
For Carter, marriage was beyond extreme—and yet somehow, this morning, the impossible felt plausible.
Almost logical.
‘My grandfather left the property to us both. I warned him that Benedict was a risk...’
‘Yet he went ahead?’
‘I guess he considered I was a risk too. He was perhaps worried I’d sell it...turn it into a resort.’
‘Would you?’
‘No—and I told him that. I said he should set up a trust. The locals know what needs doing. At most I expected to keep an eye from a distance...’
Once again she had him drifting from the point, he thought.
‘There was a caveat in his will, though—if I marry here in Borneo, and remain married for a year, then I’ll have the opportunity to buy my cousin out.’
‘Do you have to live here for a year?’
‘No, just marry here.’
‘Was your grandfather controlling?’
‘No.’ He smiled at her odd response. ‘He was an old romantic. I told him, clearly, that I would never marry for the sake of this place.’
‘Did he put in the same clause for Benedict?’
‘God, no. He’d be about to celebrate his one-year anniversary if that were the case.’
For Grace, there was something rather dreamy about sharing a delectably sweet breakfast with Carter and watching the jungle come to life. The birds were singing long before the sun spread its fingers of light. And as the violet sky merged into a vivid magenta laced with rose-gold, she saw that for once it wasn’t heavy with rain. Even the few wisps of cloud were already burning off, and the morning was revealing itself to be clear and blue. The chatter from the jungle was loud, and she could almost see the trees stirring, teeming with life.
‘Where’s the resort from here, again?’
‘That way.’ He pointed.
‘I can’t even see the river.’
‘You have to be higher up and closer to properly see it, though you can catch a glimpse of it.’
As she looked out there was a loud caw, a flock of birds rising, and then a rare silence fell—one only the jungle could provide.
Grace had noticed it—the sudden hush, as if everything had been placed on mute.
‘There’s a predator,’ Carter said. ‘The birds are giving a warning.’
‘What sort of predator?
‘Take your pick. A leopard, a snake...’
And if he was going to ask her to consider being his wife for a year, then he had to at least attempt to tell her why this inhospitable place mattered...even if he’d rather it did not.
‘I was found close to there.’
She glanced up.
‘Where you just saw those birds go up.’
‘Found?’
‘I was missing for a week after my family were killed. It was assumed I’d also died.’
‘A week ?’
Grace stood, the gorgeous breakfast forgotten, and went and gazed out from the balcony to look at the glimpse of river near the resort. He watched as she tried to follow the route they had taken last night, back to here. Then she looked to where he’d been found.
‘It’s miles from the river.’
‘Days,’ Carter agreed. ‘The locals never gave up, though. They were sure I was out there.’
‘How did they know?’
‘Tracks...some ground was disturbed. They know every leaf, every bird. My father’s body was recovered, and there was evidence that my mother had perished. My brother was strapped to her, so—’ He faltered just briefly. ‘The official search was called off, but the locals could find no physical evidence that I had been killed.’
He knew his voice was steady, yet he took a breath. The scent of mangosteen was no longer sweet, but pungent, as it had been back then, and he stood up from the table—not just to join her, but to get away from the scent.
‘They kept looking. And Bashim, Arif’s father, found me.’
They both looked out to where the birds had been startled, and for the first time Carter tried to fathom how an eight-year-old boy had got there.
‘Bashim said I was perhaps running to get help, but that makes no sense. I was headed in the wrong direction.’ He gave a wry smile. ‘It would have been more sensible to wait in the boat, or even head here.’
‘I doubt you were feeling very sensible.’
‘I blame it on this.’ He tapped the scar on his forehead. ‘It would seem I fell on a rock. I used my T-shirt to bandage it.’
‘Resourceful...’ She smiled, but he could see tears glinting in her eyes, and he did not want sympathy, nor to unburden. He simply wanted her to understand the debt he owed to the people here.
‘I was very close to death when he found me.’
‘How close?’
‘Judging from the wounds on my back, they thought I’d been lying there a couple of days...’ He’d never told another person that. ‘My back was a mess... kalajengking —scorpion bites—and fire ants.’
He could see her pallor...he hadn’t wanted that.
‘It took Bashim a couple of days to get me back to his home. He alerted the authorities and I was transferred to hospital. From the little I remember the best care I had was here. Were it not for Bashim and the people here...’
‘You’d have died?’
‘Certainly. Sometimes it’s good not to be able to remember—’
He halted abruptly, recalling how speaking of his grandfather losing his mind had upset her the night they’d first spoken, and not wanting careless words to hurt her again.
‘I apologise,’ he said. ‘I forgot about your mother.’
‘No, no...’ She put up her hand. ‘They’re completely separate things. You can’t remember at all?’
He shook his head. ‘Little bits... But really, I have no desire to. I thought when my grandfather died that I could move on for good—and then I found out my cousin is intent on destroying the place.’
‘You must hate him.’
‘No.’ Carter shook his head. ‘Certainly I don’t approve of him, and I really would prefer to have nothing to do with him.’
‘I’m sure he doesn’t want to completely ruin it.’
Then he heard the doubt enter her voice.
‘Does he...?’
‘I don’t think Benedict gives a damn.’
‘Then your grandfather should have made better provisions—I wish to God my mother had. I never know if I’m doing the right thing by her.’
Grace’s response surprised Carter. He’d thought she’d get where this was leading by now, but if anything the thought of marrying him to save the place wasn’t even on her radar.
‘It sounds as if you are,’ he said.
‘I hope so,’ Grace sighed.
She was looking out to the dense jungle and she sounded as lost as he had surely felt back then.
Lost and alone.
Standing next to Grace in the silence of the early morning, for the first time he remembered hauling himself up a tree, searching for the familiar sight of the banyan. Desperate for direction...for some way out...
And he could give her that now.
‘Grace?’
She turned at the sound of her name.
‘You know I don’t do relationships.’
‘Carter...’ She smiled and it reached her gorgeous green eyes. ‘I think we’ve established that already. Look, I get it.’ She gave a low laugh. ‘Don’t worry. I leave tomorrow...’
‘What if I suggested we marry?’
Grace laughed again, only this time she rolled her eyes.
‘I’m completely serious,’ he insisted.
‘I am not getting married to you because of some obscure clause in your grandfather’s will. And if it’s last night you’re worried about, then don’t be. I’m probably not pregnant.’
‘That’s a completely separate issue,’ Carter interrupted. ‘What if I offered you two million dollars?’
‘Yes, please!’ She immediately laughed once more—but then she must have seen his serious expression, because her smile and her laughter faded. ‘I didn’t mean that.’
‘Well, I do. You need to secure your mother’s future.’
‘I’ve never once said that.’
‘Am I wrong, though?’
Her silence was her answer.
‘I need a solution, and fast, and if my guess is correct, you need money.’
Grace swallowed. Only now was it dawning on her that this really was a serious proposal—although not in the least the romantic kind.
‘No, absolutely not. Anyway, I’m needed at home.’
‘I’m aware. I have an apartment in London, and an office... I tend to spend a lot of time in New York, but in the next few months I’ll be in Janana a lot, so we wouldn’t be in each other’s pockets.’
‘That’s not a marriage.’
‘On paper it would be—at least enough to meet the terms of the will.’
She felt colour suffuse her cheeks at this very cold summing up.
‘Grace,’ he insisted. ‘This is business.’
She frowned, because all the velvet of his words had gone.
He hadn’t been confiding in her about his past—he’d been telling her for a reason! Now, when he spoke, he was detached, and although his grey eyes met hers, they looked at her rather than beyond. The change was almost indecipherable, but either their gorgeous breakfast had turned into a meeting or, she realised, he’d considered it as such all along.
‘I didn’t come here to discuss business or money.’
She didn’t like this game...whatever he was playing.
Grace was aware she’d already been putting on a bit of a front, shielding her heart from the impact of this stunning man. And now her reckless night, her one-night stand, was offering her more, and it had utterly thrown her.
‘Can we please go?’ she asked.
‘Of course.’
Only they were in Borneo, so it wasn’t quite as simple as walking off. The little silverbacks were all waiting to pounce and have a little party with any leftovers, so she gritted her jaw as they both cleared the table away.
‘I think you should ask someone a little more...’ She didn’t know the word she was looking for as they carried the trays down the stairs. ‘I am sure there are plenty of women who would be only too happy to take your money.’
‘I’m asking you , though, Grace.’
‘Well, I wish you hadn’t.’
Midway down the stairs, she simply halted, glimpsing again the precious sense of freedom she’d found last night, her own reckless abandon, the joy of discovering herself while knowing the jungle would keep her secrets.
‘You’ve spoiled things now.’
‘Or...’ Carter had stopped behind her on the stairs ‘...I might just have made things a whole lot better.’