Chapter Seven
CHAPTER SEVEN
‘Y OU SEEM OFFENDED by my offer...’ Carter commented as they walked across the grounds.
‘Of course I am,’ Grace stated, even if she did feel like some avatar that kept glitching every time the sum of money on offer popped into her head. ‘I was raised to believe marriage meant something...’ She paused. ‘Till my dad walked out.’
‘This would mean something,’ Carter said. ‘Financial security for you, less guilt for me.’
‘Guilt?’
‘I might not love this place; it doesn’t mean I want to turn it into a movie set.’ He glanced over. ‘This is far less whimsical than marrying for love.’
‘You think marrying for love is whimsical?’
‘I do. I prefer relationships to be transactional. I don’t want the responsibility for another person’s safety or happiness, and I certainly don’t want another person to feel responsible for mine. I told my grandfather the same. But now here we are...’
He had a point—even if she didn’t agree or aspire to his cold, lonely life. She knew that responsibility well...the claw of anxiety when she thought of her mother.
She honestly hated it that she was...just a tiny bit...thinking about the advantages.
He climbed onto the boat and offered his hand. He helped her onboard then, as she took a seat, stored his laptop and the leather cylinder he always carried.
‘What is that?’ she asked as he carefully tucked it away with more care than his laptop. ‘You take it everywhere.’
‘Blueprints,’ he said. ‘Hand-drawn plans. And I am not going to lose them or risk them getting wet... We shan’t be long.’
‘It’s fine. I think I’m already too late for the jungle walk...’
As he started the boat Carter didn’t want to examine the relief he felt. He would never tell another person what to do, yet he’d felt a familiar dread when she’d said she was going into the jungle. The same dread he felt when Arif so casually strolled there, or Jamal said he was in the jungle with their son.
He wanted this solved so he didn’t have to think of all that...so he barely had to see this land again.
And he would not lose focus on that.
Grace sat, sulking, as he started up the speedboat. ‘I thought you were the one worried about your temporary lovers making demands the morning after.’
She watched his shoulders shrug in a half-laugh.
‘True.’
He turned and gave her a smile that would melt the ice from the snow-caps, but she refused to return it.
‘It’s an offer, Grace, not a demand. You have to have been in the district for seven days before we can put in an application for marriage—that’s tomorrow. Twenty-one days after that we could marry and—’
‘La, la, la...’ She put her fingers in her ears and then removed them. ‘I am not discussing this, Carter. What happened to my no-strings one-night stand?’
‘He found out she was tough.’
She wasn’t, though, Grace thought. At least not when it came to Carter. Right now, her blasé reaction was all bravado.
When she’d realised he wasn’t joking, his offer had stunned her. The thought of securing her mother’s future had been foremost in her mind for so long, and she’d have been lying to herself to deny she’d glimpsed a solution. More worrying, though, had been a lurch of hope that their time together wasn’t quite over.
She’d tried to nullify that thought, of course. To remind herself it was a financial proposal he was putting to her, rather than a romantic one. Yet with her body still tender from their night, and her heart open to a man for the first time, Grace was finding it hard to extract emotion from the business deal on offer.
Sex?
A year...?
Grace stole a look at his broad back as he casually steered, her eyes drifting over the narrow hips and firm buttocks. It was impossible not to wonder if this arrangement included bed.
A year with Carter... As if the years she’d missed out on were all condensed into a delicious one.
As if he could sense her sudden longing he glanced over his shoulder. ‘Give it some consideration,’ he said, before turning his attention back to the river.
Rather than doing that, she looked at the chipped coral nail varnish on her toenails, wishing she’d thought to bring nail varnish remover.
Oh, and a comb that wasn’t falling apart more with each passing day.
It was easier to focus on trivialities than just sit admiring his back, and she was far too distracted by his proposal to notice they were taking a different route from last night.
‘Grace?’ he said, and she realised the boat had halted.
It was at that very moment she knew Carter Bennett had ruined every future lover for her.
No moment, no matter how perfect, would ever come close to this.
At the call of her name she blinked and looked up, and saw they had come to a halt in a river that seemed to no longer exist. The brown water was spread with dark green leaves and stunning lilac flowers and the sky was the clearest blue she had seen it since her arrival.
It was as if they had landed in the jungle version of Monet’s garden.
Better, even, because she wasn’t gazing at an image—she was in the midst of it.
It was truly a halcyon moment, the silence broken only by the gentle lap of the water against the boat.
‘Where are we?’ she asked him.
‘Close to the resort,’ he said. ‘The tour boats are too big to get down here.’ He reached into the water and plucked one of the flowers and handed it to her. ‘Water hyacinths.’
‘Stunning.’
‘They’re taking over,’ he said.
In truth they were invasive, and clogging the rivers, but he chose not to spoil it for her because, yes, they were indeed beautiful.
Only that wasn’t why he had brought her here.
Carter stood up, scanning the trees, then his eyes locked on one close to the riverbank. ‘Grace...’ he started.
‘Please...’
Grace tried to halt him. She couldn’t, though, because sitting in a river of lilac flowers, her body tender and her memory fresh from being bedded by him, she was having enough trouble designating this a holiday romance...enough trouble holding on to her heart. So instead, she stared back down to the flower, to the gorgeous petals, their orange tips like peacock feathers.
‘I don’t want to discuss this any further.’
‘Shh...’
‘Excuse me?’ she checked, affronted at being shushed.
But then she saw that he wasn’t looking at her. Instead he was staring out, holding up one hand as Felicity did when she wanted them to be quiet.
‘There.’ He pointed and she followed the line of his finger. What they’d been discussing faded. ‘See the nest?’
She couldn’t.
‘Come here,’ he said quietly, summoning her, his eyes set on the trees as, a little unsteadily, she stood too, and walked over. ‘There’s movement. Right there.’
Oh! She’d been looking into the distance, but he was pointing to a tree close to the river’s edge, and there was a huge nest halfway up.
‘See?’ he checked, and Grace nodded excitedly as a little head popped up. ‘They’re waking up.’
The tiny head bobbed down again, but not a moment later two arms stretched up, large hands holding a tiny baby orangutan in the air. She couldn’t see the mother, just her arms and hands around her infant, the little baby gazing down. It was such a tranquil moment, a precious moment... A mother raising her infant in the air, playing with her baby as any mother would. Then the baby disappeared from sight, still held in loving arms.
‘That was incredible...’
It was a relief for Grace to have a reason to let out a little of the emotion that she’d kept pent up since this morning—to cry a little and wipe the tears with the back of her hands.
‘I’d almost given up seeing one in the wild. We’ve been looking for them all week.’
‘They’re hard to find—the females make a new nest most nights.’
‘What about the males?’
‘Oh, they’re lazy—more often than not they use the discarded nests.’
Grace gave a soft laugh. ‘Typical!’
‘Or practical,’ Carter countered, and then she felt him looking at her. ‘Grace, I may be male, but unlike our primate friends I am not lazy. I have built my own nest and feathered it very nicely. I don’t mind feathering yours if you’ll join me for a year.’
‘I think I ought to get back.’
‘Are you sure...?’
She was about to nod, but then realised he wasn’t suggesting they stay to discuss his proposal, just asking if she wanted to watch the nest for a little longer.
‘They’ll come down at some point, though it might take a while.’
He was completely content to wait, and she could not understand how he could make such a calculating offer, then moments later stand in silent awe, patiently watching these beautiful creatures.
It was Grace who brought up the topic again. ‘I don’t see how it could work.’ Her cheeks were on fire. She was embarrassed to admit she was thinking about it. ‘A fake marriage.’
‘It happens all the time.’ Carter assured her. ‘We’d get an application for marriage here, then fly to Kuala Lumpur... We can meet my lawyer there, work out the details, draw up an NDA and such, then agree on a prenup.’
‘In English, please?’
‘We try to come to a deal we can both agree on and ensure nobody else finds out.’
He halted as the little head of the baby orangutan peeked out again, as if checking that all was clear.
Gosh, it was so human-looking, so tiny.
‘Carter...’ she gulped ‘...what if I am pregnant.’
His response was abrupt, even stern. ‘This proposal has nothing to do with that.’
‘But what if I am, though?’
‘Shall we cross that bridge if we come to it?’
She looked at the little head, peering from the nest, and knew that no matter what Carter and his lawyer might prefer, she’d already made her decision.
‘I shall be crossing that bridge, Carter,’ she warned him. ‘Should the issue arise.’
‘Your choice.’ He nodded. ‘So long as you know we’d still have no future.’ His eyes flashed a warning. ‘I’ll build you a nice bridge, though. Well maintained.’
He took out all the emotion—and, ridiculously, it helped.
She was trying so hard to think of this in practical terms. Using every ounce of logic to stop her heart from dreaming of dangerous scenarios where there was at least some possibility that there was more behind this offer. Some glimmer that this contract marriage held a whisper of hope for them both.
But he’d made it abundantly clear that it didn’t.
They waited another ten, maybe fifteen minutes, with the occasional glimpse of hands or a little head, and then there was something she had to ask.
‘Would we...?’ Her voice was croaky, so she cleared it. ‘Does this sham marriage involve us sleeping together?’
It was almost a ridiculous question. Her body was alive to him, she was almost fighting not to move closer to him, and yet it was so vital she asked it. She had collapsed beneath him. One night in his bed had taken her to places she had never known existed.
What would a year together entail?
And what happened when boredom set in and the na?ve woman no longer amused him?
Before she even entertained the idea these were details she had to know.
The answers terrified her so.
‘Benedict is going to throw everything at me—as I intended with him,’ he said. ‘So in KL at least we would need to share a suite. It would look odd otherwise.’
‘And a bed?’
‘Of course—although with that said, sex should never be a chore,’ Carter said. ‘I certainly don’t want duty sex.’
‘So you’d go without for a year?’ she challenged.
‘God, no.’ He met her gaze, then. ‘If you don’t want sex to be a part of our agreement that’s fine. I’ll agree to be discreet.’
She felt a tremble in her lips and pinched them, reminded herself again that this was a contract...not real.
Then she looked at his strong profile and imagined all that maleness cooped up in a marriage he didn’t really want. And she knew that unless she set down some strong rules there was the chance for true heartbreak ahead.
‘If you sleep with another woman, then know you’ll never again sleep with me.’
‘Fine.’ He was still staring intently at the nest. ‘I’ll have Jonathon add that to the contract.’
God, he was brutal. Nothing moved or fazed him.
‘Along with my agreement to be discreet.’
He turned his abruptly to her and she saw the male he was, the snap of possession in his eyes, and Grace swore to herself that she would never mistake that look for love.
It gave her the strength to speak on. ‘If the relationship falls apart in the bedroom...’
‘I’ve never fallen apart in the bedroom.’
‘I’m just saying,’ Grace retorted calmly, ‘that if we go our separate ways, then I too shall be discreet.’
A slight incredulous smile spread over his lips. ‘You were a virgin until recently.’
‘Thank you for showing me all I was missing out on,’ she said, and gave him a tight smile.
She was being brave in words, but she doubted she could ever be so brave in deed. Still, she would not let him see that.
‘So we’d have that added to the contract too.’
‘Fine.’
‘ If I go ahead.’
They stood quietly. The occasional light motion of the boat meant the tops of their arms brushed every now and again, just a little, and her skin flared at each brief contact, refused to settle.
God, she was really deeply considering it...
‘What would I tell Violet?’ She could hear herself almost panting, as if on some frantic hunt, stopping breathlessly for clues along the way.
‘That we met, fell in love... You can’t tell her the truth.’
‘I know.’ Grace nodded. ‘But she knows me. Knows I wouldn’t rush into something like this.’ She blinked a couple of times. ‘I don’t think she’d believe me.’
‘Then make it so,’ Carter said.
She felt his head turn and then his mouth close to her ear.
‘Tell her I asked you to marry me in a river of lilac flowers...’
Her breathing was so shallow now she was almost dizzy.
‘That we made love in a boat and you said yes...’
She was shaking—perhaps from standing in the morning sun?
Or was it the thought of the two million dollars that would change both her and her mother’s life?
Or just lust and desire?
‘Does Arif know about the will?’ Grace asked. ‘Is that why you were arguing?’
‘No.’ Carter shook his head. ‘And we weren’t arguing.’
‘You looked like thunder when you came out of his office.’
He rolled his eyes. ‘If Arif were a woman, we’d have been over years ago. He’s that person you can’t say no to...or you can’t stop worrying about.’
Grace just laughed.
‘I think you mean Arif is family.’
‘Oh, no. Believe me, I have nothing to do with any of them, aside from legally.’
‘I mean family of the heart.’ Grace smiled. ‘Like Violet is to me...’
She didn’t finish, seeing his attention completely on the nest and intently alert.
‘She’s moving,’ Carter said.
And Grace blinked, remembered why they were there, and remembered that this moment—watching a mother orangutan leave her nest—was what she’d been aching for all week.
It still was.
Yet somehow it was made better because she was sharing it with him.
‘Where’s the baby?’ she asked.
‘Shh!’ he said.
This time Grace didn’t take offence.
‘It will be with her,’ he told her. Then he put an arm around her, pulled her closer as he pointed with his free hand. ‘See beneath her arm? Do you want the binoculars?’
‘No.’
She really was dreadful with them. But, more, she liked seeing things with her own eyes, and, yes, liked being so close to him, hearing his voice, low and quiet, so as not to carry on the still air.
‘I see it.’
Sure enough, she could just make out the infant, clinging on as the mother stretched an impossibly long arm and reached up.
‘She’s coming this way,’ Carter told her, and they both stood in utter silence, watching the mother move from branch to branch with ease, getting closer to the riverbank with each agile swing.
Grace had to press her lips together. It was simply incredible to watch. And there was no need for binoculars, because she came further down, close to the river’s edge, till she hung by one hand, no more than a few arms’ lengths away from where they stood together in the boat.
‘She’s watching us,’ Carter said.
‘I know! I’m trying not to make eye contact,’ Grace whispered.
‘They don’t mind much,’ he said. ‘They communicate that way.’ Then he added, ‘And she’s not worried by us.’
No, the mother wasn’t worried, for she hung there, calmly eating fruit, as the little baby moved onto her chest, boldly peering out at them with huge black eyes, the sun catching on its soft tufts of auburn and gold hair.
‘Is it a boy or a girl?’ Grace whispered.
‘Can’t tell,’ he said. ‘It’s very young.’
‘How young?’
‘A couple of months.’
Then the mother lowered her head, and in the tenderest, simplest gesture she kissed the top of her baby’s downy head, then lifted the little one up high on her shoulder, as if she were about to wind her.
And then it was over.
Almost.
The mother calmly dropped down from the tree and walked into the forest, the little baby peering over its mother’s shoulder back at them.
‘It’s so content...’ Grace said, stunned at what they’d witnessed.
But then she felt Carter’s arm tighten its hold a fraction and she looked up at him, wondering if he was alerting her to something. But, no, it was more as if something had alerted him , for even though he stood right beside her, he looked a million miles away.
Carter, in fact, was twenty-seven years in the past, staring at the baby orangutan’s huge round eyes that looked back at him just as Hugo’s had that last day.
But there was a forgotten moment that had returned...
Hugo holding his fat starfish hand out to him.
Carter had known exactly what his brother’s gesture meant.
‘Wait!’ he’d called, opening his father’s ice box, taking the cold silver teething ring and jumping onto the riverbank. ‘There you go, Ulat ,’ he’d said, handing Hugo his beloved teething ring, gently talking to his little brother as he’d grasped it, ruffling his soft hair, seeing his contented smile...
Then, as if black tar was being thrown over him, the idyllic moment was tainted.
He should have taken Hugo from his mother...carried him back to the boat.
God, this was no memory to stand and savour. Instead he stood there hollowed out with regret.
The only solace he could find as he recalled it was that he’d never know the pain of such loss again.
Ever.
‘That was incredible...’
Grace’s voice pulled him back to the present and, realising his arm was still around her, Carter removed it, telling himself he’d merely been trying to point out the wildlife.
‘I can’t believe how close we were.’
‘It’s very quiet here,’ Carter said, and cleared his throat, trying to sound normal while still taken aback by that emergence of the final memory of his mother and brother. ‘There’s little to disturb them.’
‘What will happen if your cousin does get his way?’
‘That’s my concern. I didn’t bring you here to influence your decision.’
Carter would not let emotions override her thinking—they were a currency he did his level best not to deal in.
‘Your decision should be based on financial security and providing for your mother. The debt to the people here is my own.’
‘Debt?’
‘There’s a saying here: Hutang emas boleh dibayar, hutang budi dibawa mati. One can pay back the loan of gold, but one dies in debt for ever to those who are kind. Unfortunately for me, it’s true.’
‘I’m sure they don’t see it as a debt.’
‘Perhaps not a debt, but I do feel obliged.’ He saw Grace frown, and then qualified. ‘I want to do the right thing, and then finally I can move on.’
‘I do too,’ Grace admitted, her own words surprising her. ‘I don’t see it as a debt, though, or even an obligation.’
She wanted to do the best by her mother and she wanted to live her life. This gave her a chance to do both.
‘I don’t know if can do this, though.’
‘That’s why there are lawyers...that’s why we’re not running away to Vegas. If we get the application in then we have three weeks to work things out.’
She nodded.
‘Grace, do you love me?’
Her response was immediate. ‘Of course not.’
Only Grace recognised her own tone. It was the same one she used when asked if she cared about or missed her father.
She didn’t love Carter, of course—she didn’t know him—but she stared at the rainforest in the bright morning and knew that she had to stay silent. For she could think of nothing better than knowing this contrary man more.
He clearly hadn’t finished checking she could match his cold heart, though. He had another question for her.
‘And you understand that I’ll never love you?’
How did one even begin to answer that?
‘You’ve made that very clear.’
She took a breath, looked at the beautiful lilacs. There was more tranquillity here than she had ever known, and finally enough peace to think deeply.
Serenity?
Not quite.
But it was enough that she’d found the touchstone of her heart.
‘I want real love.’ She looked out to the jungle that pulsed with life, to the flowers, to the sky, and she told him the truth. ‘I’m so tired of loving people who are incapable of loving me.’
He frowned.
‘I’m talking about my father.’ She could feel her lips stretch, her chin tremble, but she forced herself to push on. ‘My mother.’
‘She’s unwell.’
‘I know—and, believe me, I’ve had to tell myself that a lot of times over the years.’ She took a breath. ‘I want someone who can love me fully.’
‘It’s a no, then?’
‘Can I finish?’
She thought of security for her mother and being able to provide the best life she could give her. Of how, if her mother was cared for, she’d get the chance to live her own best life.
Find herself.
Her passions.
She looked over to Carter and, as cold and matter-of-fact his proposal was, it excited her too. Last night she had found all she had missed out on. He’d brought something out in her she hadn’t even known existed.
‘I shan’t be falling in love with a man incapable of loving me back. So, yes.’ She nodded. ‘I do want to do this.’
‘Two million dollars... A wardrobe...’
‘I’d need to get to London regularly.’
‘Once we’re married, I can base myself there.’
It was a minor detail to him, Grace realised. He could uproot to wherever he liked on a whim.
‘We’ll work out the details of the contract, but...’ He seemed to think for a moment, as if pondering what else might be required. ‘I think we’re both getting a good deal. I like you.’ He said it as if it surprised him. ‘Although, of course, by the end of the year we’ll be desperate to never see each other again.’
Grace hoped so!
She really, really hoped so...