There was so much he hadn’t had a chance to say to Maddy
He certainly hadn’t believed her when she’d denied loving him. Even if he had to abduct her and tie her to a chair, he would make her listen. She looked so distant, and he felt completely lost. He could see he was losing her.
“Please, Maddy. Tell me what to say to make it better,” he said, his arms aching to hold her. “I’ve never felt this way before. Never. And it’s because of you. Loving you makes me want things I’ve never wanted before.”
Madeline swallowed a lump of emotion. His voice was husky with passion. The plea in his voice unmistakable. He sounded genuine and, despite the dictates of her sensible brain, her heart was flowering. His earlier declaration of love and his admission that he wanted to have babies with her had been like welcome rain nourishing fragile petals.
But at the same time her brain urged retreat. How could she put her heart out there again? She’d taken a risk with him and his heat and his passion had warmed her all the way through, and it had been fantastic while it had lasted. But could she trust him?
Dear Reader,
Opposites attract. That’s what they say, isn’t it? As a writer, this is a fascinating premise. What if two people, complete opposites in every way, were attracted to each other—does the attraction win out despite the differences?
Out of this foundation, Madeline and Marcus emerged.
Conservative, in control Maddy. A gorgeous, career-focused woman who knows what she wants out of life. A job that she loves and marriage with two point four kids.
And Marcus. The complete opposite. Sexy, flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants, thrill-seeking, footloose and fancy-free Marcus. Sworn off marriage for life and perfectly happy to always play “the uncle.”
Then I asked the question—what if? What if I threw them together? What if I gave them two vastly different jobs that were philosophically incompatible: conventional versus alternative medicine? Such a hotly debated topic and one with two very passionate and opposite camps, especially in the guise of Madeline and Marcus.
The only thing these two have in common when their worlds collide is an inexplicable instantaneous attraction.
Marcus is everything Madeline doesn’t want, but all she needs. Madeline is everything Marcus most definitely wants, but does a footloose, fancy-free man really need any woman?
Woohoo! It’s a hot time in an old Brisbane town when these two clash swords. I hope you enjoy their story and rejoice in their triumph over their differences to prove love really does conquer all.
Love,
Amy xxx
An Unexpected Proposal
Amy Andrews
To Vicki Williams, homeopath, dedicated professional.
Many thanks for your time and expertise.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER ONE
MADELINE HARRINGTON was grateful for the air-conditioning in her car as she pulled up at the roadworks. There was heavy earthmoving machinery blocking the way and as the heat rose in visible waves off the black tar of the road she’d never been more pleased to have an indoor job. The worker holding the stop sign looked hot and sweaty, his skin an unhealthy weathered brown. Skin cancer just waiting to happen, she mused absently.
It was hard to believe, watching Brisbane shimmer in the afternoon sun, that she’d been in the throes of a British winter only twenty-four hours ago. Jackets and gloves and woollen hats. As she’d flown out of Heathrow the temperature had just managed to struggle into positive figures. If London had been a fridge, Brisbane felt like a furnace!
She yawned and shut her eyes briefly as the overwhelming fatigue of jet lag took hold. She sighed as it gathered her into its folds but fought her way out again a minute later. Her eyes felt like they had sand embedded in the lids and she rubbed at them to ease the grittiness. The road blockage didn’t look like it was going to clear any time soon and she sighed impatiently. She wanted a shower. She wanted her bed.
Her gaze wandered to the neighbourhood skate park where teenagers rode their skateboards up and down the curved cement walls. The doctor in her saw all the horrible possibilities but the uncoordinated female admired their skill and lack of fear.
A man entered her line of vision, expertly negotiating the bumps and ramps and shooting up off the wall, his skateboard staying miraculously attached to his feet even in mid-air, and landing again like he was riding a wave instead of unforgiving concrete. He was at least twenty years older than the other riders but somehow managed not to look ridiculous despite the age difference.
He was wearing a raggedy pair of cut-off denim shorts and nothing else. His chest was magnificent, tanned, the abdominal muscles well defined—cut, wasn’t that what it was called these days? He pirouetted perfectly, one end of the board in the air, the other grounded, and her eyes were drawn downwards to his powerful quads that flexed and strained to maintain perfect balance.
She could see the hairs covering his legs were dark brown even from this distance. They matched his colouring. His head, too, was covered with brown hair, short around the back and sides and longer on top. Why isn’t he wearing a helmet? Macho idiot. A smattering of the same covered his pecs and narrowed to a fine trail that disappeared behind the waistband of his shorts.
He looked like the stereotypical bronzed Aussie, at home in the outdoors, kicking a footy or surfing. Except today his choice of wave was concrete instead of water. Maybe he was some kind of adrenaline junkie—any
