Chapter Twelve
CHAPTER TWELVE
C ARTER ’ S CONTRITION DIDN ’ T LAST .
He really was the worst fiancé, even allowing for the fact their engagement was fake.
Not a single call or text.
Even if he was in the desert, there were a couple of airports in between, and when she looked up Sahir and the opulent palace... Oh, she was rather certain there would be the odd occasion when he could call.
But nothing.
So, she’d shopped, as any good Carter Bennett fiancée would.
And Kuala Lumpur was incredible. The shops were airy and beautiful, and the cakes.... Oh, her mother would have loved them. Every afternoon Grace carefully selected a treat and brought one back with her. And she visited the Batu Caves and climbed the coloured stairs, stood at the top and looked out onto the glorious view.
But there was only so much shopping and sightseeing she could do.
And she hated lying to Violet, so their conversations were a little short.
‘What’s happening with you and that guy?’ she’d asked.
‘I like him,’ Grace said. ‘A lot.’
‘And?’ Violet prompted. ‘Does he have a name?’
‘Violet...’
‘God, you’re mean.’ She laughed. ‘I’ll wait for all the gossip when you’re home. I popped in to find out how your mum is getting on today.’
‘Thanks for that.’
‘They’re thrilled with her,’ Violet said. ‘Please don’t worry. I peeked in and saw her line dancing...’
Grace laughed. ‘I know. I’m trying to buy her a Stetson...’
Grace was still smiling as she took out the folder Arif had given her and read detailed notes about the gradual rise in the number of orangutans on Carter’s land, the rare birds they were encouraging, the decline in saltwater crocodiles...
Felicity’s work was fascinating—tracking endangered birds, some exclusive to the area—and Grace found herself all too often straying from her task.
Instead of inputting data, she was looking things up. And rather too often she found herself looking up Carter.
It was unsettling to see evidence of his decadent past, and a lot of it seemed rather recent. And it served her right for peeking, because she found out that Sahir was a playboy, and he and Carter had been hitting the social pages since their university days.
She tried not to feel a little tense that he was in the company of the playboy prince now...
It took a lot of scrolling to get further back into his past and when she did, she thought her heart would break.
A miracle. That was what they’d called Carter.
There were pictures of a helicopter, and him being stretchered out.
And Grace, who really didn’t cry, wept right there in the hotel’s business centre when she saw his scarred face and dark eyes.
Then, in an article a couple of years later, Carter had been photographed standing in a short coat beside a Christmas tree with his glamorous aunt.
She scrolled on, but it didn’t help matters. Because there was an image of Carter coming out of a theatre, rumoured to be engaged, and he was with the most beautiful woman Grace had ever seen...
She peered at the date.
Last month!
At that moment, as if he knew she was snooping again, her phone rang and she saw that finally it was him.
‘Hey...’ She attempted to sound normal. ‘How’s it going?’
‘Stalemate,’ Carter said, and let out a breath. ‘It’s the most beautiful building I’ve ever worked on, but one wing of the palace was destroyed by an earthquake more than a century ago. We’ve been going off old plans and drawings, but a lot of the design is based on astronomy—a first for me.’ He sounded incredibly tired. ‘Most of the council don’t even want it done.’
Carter had reverted to his usual tactics and withdrawn—but, given the serious nature of the project, and given that Sahir was a friend, he hadn’t simply walked out. Instead he was cooling his heels, sitting in the opulent royal lounge at a private members’ club.
‘What are you up to now?’ Grace asked.
‘Watching a sandstorm.’
‘Sounds spectacular.’
‘From behind glass, it is. Sahir wants to head out...’
He paused, not really wanting to discuss Sahir’s methods for solving an issue.
For so long he’d wondered why Sahir would disappear into the desert for days or weeks on end. Yet a part of Carter understood the search for answers.
Those damned dreams now featured Grace, disappearing on a plane, or sinking beneath the water. It was now always Grace rather than his mother holding Hugo, who was gnawing on that teething ring as they walked into the dense forest...
‘Head out?’ Grace asked, but he didn’t elaborate, and she felt an odd sinking feeling.
They hadn’t parted on a row, they’d spoken afterwards and he’d been kind, but she had doubts leaping in her chest like salmon...
‘So, what are you doing?’ he asked.
‘I’m trying to find a Stetson for my mother?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘She’s taken up line dancing, apparently...’ Grace gave a small laugh. ‘I need to find a sparkly shirt and a hat for her. Oh, and I’m working on that data Arif gave me.’
‘You don’t have to do any of that.’
‘I like doing it,’ Grace admitted. ‘There are reams of information about the conservation work being undertaken. I don’t see that Benedict stands a chance if it’s taken to court.’
‘Careful,’ he warned, ‘you might put yourself out of a job. I need a wife so I can inherit the property.’
But then his voice changed and he was serious.
‘Look, I agree. If it goes to court, we’ll eventually win—“eventually” being the operative word. However, there is damage being done now.’
‘I know.’
She went quiet, aching to admit just how very nice it was to hear from him. And to tell him that from her digging around in his past she knew the anniversary of his family’s deaths was fast approaching. She wondered if it was on his mind. It had to be, she decided, even while knowing the phone wasn’t the place to bring up something so deeply personal.
Still, she took a breath. ‘It will be nice to go back there.’
‘If the talks with Jonathon go well, and the contracts get signed, we soon shall be.’
‘For how long?’
‘Just for the wedding—one night.’
‘We could stay for a bit longer...’
‘The point of this marriage is to end my obligations, so I can spend as little time there as possible.’
‘I know.’ Grace sighed. ‘But that doesn’t mean I can’t go by myself.’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You’ve said yourself you’ll be away nearly all the time, and I’m enjoying collating the data. I don’t mind going.’
‘It’s data entry,’ he snapped. ‘You can do that remotely.’
‘I like it there, though.’ She looked at the meticulous notes spread before her. ‘I wouldn’t mind getting more involved.’
‘You’re supposed to be acting as my wife for a year,’ he said, pulling rank. ‘If I’d wanted Jane Goodall I’d have asked her to marry me. Or Felicity...’
The sound of Grace’s laughter down the line actually brought a reluctant smile to his lips.
‘I’m not suggesting throwing darts at wildlife and tagging them,’ she said.
‘Good.’
But despite his smile, he could hear her interest ramping up. A couple of weeks away from the jungle and already she was longing to return. It was all too familiar. His grandfather had never left, and his parents had been drawn back over and over again...
Carter got it.
For all it had taken from him, the place, and the people, the jungle still held a certain allure.
And now Grace was becoming ensnared...
‘That type of work is best left to the experts—that’s what I’m trying to secure.’
‘And my job is to be Carter Bennett’s adoring wife?’
‘Correct.’
‘Carter, about the wedding...’
‘What about it?’
‘If you want to go out with Arif and take Hugo’s teething ring back, I get it...’
‘Grace,’ he snapped. ‘I’m at work.’
Damn. There was a reason he didn’t make personal calls. But once he’d rung off he sat staring at the sandstorm, and there was a part of him that wanted to call her back, admit that he was thinking of going...
Hearing Grace talk about Hugo, he’d felt everything coming back to him. That time standing in the boat, watching the mother and baby orangutans disappear, the mangosteens... And he didn’t know if it was the teething ring or Grace that was unlocking him.
Or both.
And he didn’t know what he was going to find out. Certainly he didn’t want witnesses when he faced whatever demons lay waiting there.
But only a local or a fool went into the jungle alone.
Carter was neither.
So that meant things needed to be taken care of.
Places and people too...
He pulled up a name on his phone and called his assistant. ‘Tell Jonathon I need him in KL. I want the wedding contract signed and my estate sorted...’
Damn. For someone determined not to care, there was an awful lot to sort out.
He just wanted the teething ring buried...to make his peace with the land, or whatever.
And he knew he had to deal with things the only way he knew how—alone.
And neither Arif nor Grace could know.