Chapter Nine
CHAPTER NINE
‘C ARTER , LOOK !’
It was his father calling to him again, and he turned, saw Hugo looking back at him. Only it was Grace carrying him into the jungle rather than his mother.
And it couldn’t be his father calling out, Carter realised, because his father lay face-down in the water with his arms spread out.
Or was that Grace floating?
His eyes snapped open. He was unsure for a moment if he’d shouted out, but presumably not, given that Grace lay wrapped around him like bindweed.
He’d have to remind her again that he liked space in bed.
Especially if they were going to be doing this for a year!
Carter gulped in air, went to move her so he could sit on the edge of the bed, catch his breath and drink water. But his heart was slowing down, and her skin was warm and alive.
‘Carter...?’
She lifted her head from his chest, and it was like the first time they’d met. For her eyes were open, yet she was more asleep than awake. ‘What time...?’
‘Early,’ he said. ‘Go back to sleep.’
He felt the weight of her head as it sank back down on his chest, and the tickle of her hair on his chin didn’t even irritate him.
He’d thought the nightmares had returned because he’d been in Borneo, yet he’d been back in KL for more than a week.
It was the teething ring unsettling him, he was certain, even in the dressing room and behind the solid walls of the hotel safe, it was pulsing like a radioactive alarm.
It was the anniversary of his family’s deaths coming up, and he was seriously considering once more asking Arif to return it to the jungle.
He’d been too sideswiped at the time to think straight, and had let him load it onto the boat.
No, he would not be asking.
He would be telling.
In fact, he might call Arif and ask to meet him. Give it back to him and tell him to damn well return it to where it belonged.
Arif’s father might have saved his life, but he was surely no longer beholden? He’d taken that week off work to look into things, and now—not that Arif knew it—he was possibly going to marry a woman when he didn’t want...
Except he did want.
Constantly.
Usually, sex was a like a prescription for him.
To be taken as required.
Necessary, pleasurable, it relieved an ache, took care of a basic need.
Now he was seeking her needs, turned on by her climaxing, feeling her at times holding back...
Her thigh was over his now, her hand low on the side of his stomach, and he was hardening as if he were reaching for her, almost willing her hand to slip further down. Wanting her to react to his desire as his more vigilant lovers would have...
And yet he liked the chase, the flirtation, and so he lay there, feeling her even breathing, her inhalations so deep she was on the edge of a gentle snore. The horror of the nightmare had faded, it was nice to simply lie there and hold her...
‘Carter?’
He frowned at Grace’s groggy voice.
‘We’ve overslept.’
‘No.’
He turned to the clock. He never overslept. And neither did he fall back to sleep after a nightmare.
It was a bit of a rush.
Grace forgot to wear a shower cap and, no matter how brilliant the hairdresser, there wasn’t a product invented that could tame her curls. To see the lawyer, she settled for the very pale powder blue trouser suit, and pulled on the awful underwear—a little bandeau bra thing that she had to put on over her head, and knickers that were sheer enough not to be noticed whatever she wore. The unfortunate pay-off being they came up close to her belly button.
God, she’d have preferred red velvet and suspenders, she thought, or at least she’d thought Carter would have preferred that.
She added a little cami, and then the suit, and slipped on some heels.
‘We need to get a move on, Grace,’ Carter warned.
‘Then lucky for you I’m ready.’
‘Back to curls?’
He looked at them, all pinned up, and was about to say he preferred them—though that wasn’t his place. Nor was it for him to say that he missed her red sarong, and the dusky pink top, the coral on her nails.
Grace had said she was sorting out her clothes and her hair herself, and who was he to debate her choices? Even so, he did comment on her tension.
‘Are you okay?’ he checked. ‘You look nervous.’
‘Well, it’s not every day you sign a contract for two million dollars.’
‘It’s just the NDA today.’ He waved away her concerns. ‘Then he’ll walk us through the prenup. He might get a bit personal, but it’s necessary.’
‘Why?’
‘Because...’ he tried to keep his voice patient ‘...we are going to be marrying, and divorcing, and presumably sleeping together.’ He was not going to startle her before they even got out of the stalls. ‘Let’s get some breakfast.’
They headed up to the restaurant, and as they were led to their table Grace looked at all the busyness and inhaled the scents. He seemed so at ease here.
‘I don’t know where to start...’ she admitted, eyeing the gorgeous buffet.
As it turned out, his schedule was too tight for a buffet, and she was back to looking at menus again.
‘I just want toast,’ she said.
‘No coffee?’ He frowned.
‘Tea,’ Grace said. She was a bundle of nerves as it was.
She ordered exactly that when the waiter came.
Carter, though, appeared starving—from all the sex they hadn’t had this morning? He ordered nasi lemak , and she wondered how he had the stomach for such a spicy dish so early, and how he had not even a hint of the nerves she was feeling...
‘We’re having dinner with them after,’ he told her.
‘Who?’
‘Jonathon and Ruth—my lawyer and his wife.’
She shook her head as if to clear it. ‘Seriously?’
Carter saw her shaking hand as she attempted to add marmalade to her toast, and knew he needed this to work.
‘He might ask about your father,’ he warned her.
‘He can ask,’ Grace said. ‘I have no idea where he is.’
‘You know once this hits the news there’s a chance he’ll get in touch?’
‘I don’t care.’ She shrugged. ‘Honestly, I have nothing to say to him.’ She poured some tea. ‘I last saw him in the interval of a pantomime. He popped out to get a drink.’
Carter waited. ‘And...?’ he prompted.
‘That was it.’ She added sugar to her tea. ‘I must be boring company, because I haven’t seen him since. I don’t care if he gets in touch, or pleads for money, or tells whatever lie he comes up with...’
‘So, I don’t have to ask his permission?’
‘No!’ she replied hotly, and then looked up as if she’d realised it was she who had missed a small joke.
This time she didn’t smile back.
‘Excuse me for a moment,’ Carter said.
He didn’t explain where he was going and neither did she ask. There were several meeting rooms off the corridor just down from the restaurant—places to withdraw for private discussions or to toast success...
Jonathon was already there, of course.
A gleaming desk was all set up—there was a delicate floral arrangement as well as a jug of iced tea and pretty glasses, water and notepads. But for all the luxury and creature comforts he knew that to Grace this would appear as clinical as a hospital... Or rather that the topics about to be discussed would not be softened by the surroundings.
‘Ready when you are,’ Jonathon informed him.
Despite his somewhat genial appearance, Carter knew that Jonathon’s mood could and often did quickly change. He had been on his side since he’d come out of the jungle, an orphaned eight-year-old with a fortune ripe to be misused by others.
‘We can expect some pushback from Benedict, but—’
Carter cut in. ‘I want you to listen to Grace.’
‘Of course,’ Jonathon said. ‘But we shan’t budge—’
‘No.’ Carter interrupted again. ‘She has no one representing her.’
‘Excellent.’
‘There’s a small possibility she’s pregnant—’
Now Jonathon stopped leafing through the preliminary draft. Perhaps he saw Carter’s grim expression, because it was Jonathon who interrupted now. ‘Should the situation arise, it will be dealt with.’
‘Go easy,’ Carter warned.
‘I don’t play softball.’
‘Just...’ Carter made a gesture with his hand. ‘I want the marriage to go ahead. There’s a lot at stake.’
‘Oh, I’m well aware,’ Jonathon warned—and Carter knew he wasn’t referring to the land, more his client’s vast fortune. ‘You need this to be watertight.’
‘And I’m telling you to tread gently.’
Those were his instructions.
It was for the sake of his grandfather’s legacy that he was reining Jonathon in, Carter told himself as he walked back to where Grace sat.
‘Ready?’
She nodded and stood, and he watched as she blew out a breath.
Perhaps, he considered as they walked towards the meeting room, Grace was right. He should have chosen someone more suited to a world of convenient marriages.
They took their seats across from Jonathon and, as always, Carter started to leaf through the documents at his place. Grace sat ramrod-straight.
‘It’s fairly straightforward...’ Jonathon kicked things off. ‘Anything you don’t understand, feel free to interject. First things first, though: we can’t proceed without an NDA.’ He glanced to Carter. ‘Has this already been raised?’
‘It has.’
For something ‘straightforward’, Grace soon found out the devastating price she would pay if she broke her silence. And after reading through the first of the contracts she broke her silence now.
‘All proceeds? A percentage of my future earnings? You know I’m struggling...’ She shook her head and stared aghast at Carter. ‘I’ve already told you I don’t want anyone to know.’
Carter stared ahead. He knew he was an utter bastard in negotiations but he was trying to hold back, so he left Jonathon to do the talking.
‘If you don’t divulge, then there’s no issue.’
On and on Jonathon went, explaining that things could go no further until the document was signed. That it was to protect them both. That Carter’s previous partner had taken out a two-page spread in a magazine...
‘So?’ Grace asked. ‘I’m not carrying the can for something one of his many exes might have done.’
Carter glanced at Jonathon, who’d clearly expected the NDA to be a trifling matter. In truth, so too had Carter—he’d thought this was the easy part!
‘Indefinitely?’ she checked, the reality of that single word dawning. ‘I can never tell anyone?’
‘It’s quite standard,’ Jonathon said.
Not to Grace.
Oh, it wasn’t the wedding, nor even the year they would spend together.
It was after.
Grace caught a tiny glimpse of the future then—a life after Carter, all her problems seemingly solved. But he’d be gone.
She pushed the chair back and stood. ‘I’d like to take a break, please.’
She felt a little giddy, and the dim lights of the corridor did nothing to soothe her—they annoyed her, in fact.
She took the elevator down, and even if Kuala Lumpur wasn’t the best place for cool air, it was so vibrant, so alive, it was still a relief to be out of the formal surroundings, to watch the busy city, the people, the cars, the noise...
‘Grace.’ Carter had come out. ‘What the hell? If you’re going to storm out over every clause this is going to be a very long day.’
Her response was silence.
‘There has to be something in writing to ensure this remains between us, but I’m hardly really going to go after your wages.’
‘Violet’s been there for me every step of the way—and, believe me, given how I doubted her, it has nothing to do with obligation ,’ she sneered. ‘That ran out a long time ago... It’s about friendship...love.’
She looked at Carter then, a man who actively turned his back on the things she treasured the most.
‘You couldn’t begin to understand,’ she said.
For someone who tried to be kind, she was possibly being mean now—but, hell, this morning had made her so.
‘I know you lost your family, and I can’t ever fathom how dreadful it was to lose them all in an instant.’
She stared at his granite features, saw now why he preferred the cold world of business, the towers, the noise.
‘But I lose my mother a little bit more each day, and my friend is there for me. A year or so from now you’ll be gone...’ Grace said.
Her voice trailed off as she glimpsed the devastation she might feel and, frantically not wanting him to see, she reminded herself that emotions—at least deep ones—were not, nor ever could be allowed.
‘What do I tell her?
‘Just say that we didn’t work out.’
‘Please...’ She gave a mirthless laugh. ‘That’s not going to work with Violet...’
‘Then it’s up to you to make it work,’ he warned. ‘This isn’t a game, or about placating friends.’
Grace swallowed as she suddenly got a front seat row to his ruthless edge as he very succinctly reminded her that this was a business arrangement, not a cosy deal.
She thought of her mother, reminded herself that was the real reason she was even sitting down to sign a contract. And yet there was a lump building in her throat.
Pulling herself away from the wall, Grace simply refused to let him see how deeply this was affecting her. ‘Oh, well...’ she shrugged ‘...at least I’ll be rich.’
‘And Grace...?’ He called her back, waited till she’d turned around. ‘If we do somehow manage to get past the NDA without you melting down, then we move on to the marriage contract. That won’t be getting signed today...’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means there’s no need to argue every point or storm out.’ His eyes never left her face, and his voice was curt. ‘Some personal details will be raised—don’t get all offended, just make a note on the paper provided and we can discuss it between ourselves later.’
‘Fine.’
‘Grace, I told you right from the start you couldn’t tell Violet.’
‘I thought that meant while we were married.’ She looked at him. ‘I don’t even know if I’ll ever want tell her, but maybe in time...’
Carter arched his neck when she’d gone.
He loved the sounds of a city—any city. Usually they drowned out the thoughts in his head. But now all he could see was the sight of her strained features. And, no matter how self-sufficient he chose to be, he knew that Grace was close to her friend and that they relied on each other. He wasn’t used to that. Not just for himself...all the women he generally dated would know the score.
This was a business decision.
He thought of Arif, impatient at eight, wanting to know what had happened to his friend.
Of Bashim telling him to give it time.
And, no, he’d never been ready to talk to his friend...
Yet here he was, taking that right away from Grace.
Damn .
He took the elevator up, walked back into the meeting room where she sat, taking a long drink of water. And the ridiculous thing was that he missed her small smile when he entered. The tiny moments of eye contact they had started to share. The feeling they were both in this together.
It would seem that he had the business meeting he wanted.
‘Are we ready to resume?’ Jonathon checked.
‘Sure,’ Grace responded.
‘It’s a standard agreement,’ Jonathon started. ‘And not just for your own protection. If the press or Benedict attempt to approach your family or friends, this ensures they don’t know anything.’
‘I understand,’ Grace responded, her voice almost a monotone, but she frowned when Carter spoke.
‘Add an exclusion...’ He turned to Grace, and knew he didn’t even need to ask if she trusted her friend—she’d already told him her life’s regret was a brief moment in time when she’d doubted her, simply to save herself from the reality of facing her mother’s diagnosis. ‘What’s Violet’s surname?’
‘Lewis.’
Jonathon was less than willing, pointing out that Violet would need to agree to sign her own NDA, that there was no guarantee otherwise.
‘Violet Lews is to be excluded at Grace’s discretion.’
‘The consequences remain,’ Jonathon warned.
She must really trust her friend, Carter thought as finally, one hour and forty-seven minutes after the meeting had commenced, Grace picked up her pen.
Now came the hard part.
He glanced up as Jonathon took his jacket off.
It would be some considerable time till they were alone...
If Grace lasted that long!