also have a family to meet. Don’t you have an aunt who can look after this place for a few days?”
“How—” Ava stopped. Cal finding out about the baby was one violation she’d get over. But digging into her past without even giving her the option of what she wanted to reveal? Her mouth felt bitter and dry. Dear lord, what had she gotten herself into?
As if she was standing outside someone else’s life looking in, Ava sat on the balcony of Cal’s Circular Quay penthouse suite, taking in Sydney Harbour spread out like a picture-perfect postcard thirty floors below.
His place was something out of Architectural Digest. The elevator doors had swooshed open to reveal a massive living room in varying shades of cream and white, a warm chocolate couch opposite a solid rustic coffee table in the centre. Along the right wall, separating the bedrooms, ran a stunning tropical aquarium. In silent awe she’d barely registered Cal’s brief tour, until they’d walked through the dining area and into an immaculate kitchen. Too immaculate.
“Do you cook?” she’d asked him. He’d just shrugged and said, “I eat out, mostly.”
There was something here for all the senses, she realized. Even on the balcony, the decadent cream cashmere couch felt like heaven against her bare calves, just like the expensive cotton sheets on her guest room bed. The briny ocean breeze left a salty tang on her lips, tainted warmly by the patio heater glowing in the far corner. And through the double glass patio doors floated the soft strains of James Taylor on the CD player, mingling with the faint bustle of Circular Quay below. All that marred the perfection was the absence of an active kitchen. Something simmering on the stove…a lamb roast, she mused, some garlic potatoes, fresh carrots and green beans. Or a Greek salad. Her stomach rumbled in agreement and a small grin tugged at her lips.
Her good humour faltered as Cal appeared at the door with two wine glasses. He’d changed into a dark navy suit, light-blue shirt and a precisely knotted sapphire silk tie, while she had to be content with the cherry-red dress he’d first seen her in. It was a little snug across the breasts but the best she could do on short notice.
“Magnificent, isn’t it?” His quiet confidence made it sound like he’d painted the harbour view himself, and she couldn’t help but smile.
“Yes.”
He studied her, almost as if assessing her against some unspoken criteria. She must have finally passed muster when, with a glint of remembrance in his eyes, he said, “Nice dress.”
“My only dress,” she replied and recrossed her legs. The floaty chiffon hem slid over her skin, baring a long expanse of thigh. Surreptitiously, she rearranged the fabric, but when his shrewd gaze followed her hands, the warmth began to rise again.
To fill the uncomfortable void, she took a grateful swallow of the bubbly lemon, lime and bitters, then grabbed up the paper he’d shoved across the glass table.
It was a briefing paper, not only outlining his business deals but some personal details, details she’d be expected to know as his fiancée. She scanned down the page, unable to stop that rush of morbid curiosity. She knew nothing of him—at least, not the things that really mattered. Deep, personal things she always thought you should know about your husband-to-be. Little intimacies that indicated you were a couple, in love and happy to spend the rest of your lives together.
“You’ll be thirty-four on New Year’s Day.” At his nod, she asked half to herself, “What do you get a man who can afford to buy anything?”
“Something simple. My mother bought me the fish tank last year.” At her raised eyebrow, he added, deadpan, “But I can always use a tie or a nice bottle of Scotch.”
“A pair of socks?”
She returned his grin with one of her own and for the first time since arriving in Sydney, Ava felt his full and complete attention. The gentle tug of desire unfurled inside, but with ruthless efficiency, she shoved it back.
On his private jet he’d been engrossed in paperwork and phone calls. The journey to his apartment hadn’t been much better. She should have enjoyed the decadent opulence of driving in his shiny black hybrid Maserati Coupé, blanketed in the luxurious smell of leather seats, the throaty purr of the powerful engine as they smoothly glided along Anzac Parade. Yet she couldn’t shake the awful thought that this was a premonition of things to come—she silent and immaculately groomed and he the workaholic with always one ear to the phone, one eye on a business deal.
She didn’t want to be the wife who paraded about in designer dresses and jewels, a perky, dolled-up hostess serving only to entertain her husband’s business colleagues. She shuddered at the thought of putting on makeup day after day, having her hair teased and primped, dressing up like Corporate Wife Barbie.
And stupid, stupid her—she was going to sign a contract that gave him carte blanche.
You have to remember this is just temporary. She’d be at Jindalee most days, focusing on her business. She’d be with Cal only when he needed to show her off and make a good impression. He’d said so himself.
His own personal show pony.
With self-anger dogging her thoughts, she glanced away, back to the darkening sky.
Instead of taking a seat next to her, he sat on the couch directly across the coffee table, thankfully on the outer edges of her personal space. Yet anything short of another city was still way too close. He was simply too commanding to ignore, let alone be comfortable with. It was a combination of the dark, knowing look in his eyes, the sensual flow of his voice and the annoying memories that surged up to goosebump her skin.
She quickly returned her attention to the paper. “You started working for Victor at seventeen and now you’re a managing director. Did you…” she paused, mentally rephrasing the question. “You never felt the urge to start your own business?”
“VP Tech is my business.”
She remained silent at his cryptic statement until he elaborated with a small shrug. “I dropped out of school to work in Victor’s software development division. A few years later I had the idea for One-Click and Victor supplied technical staff and financial backing. Today we’re the only Australian company with integrated Internet, phone and software technology in the one office program. It brings in billions.”
After a brief second she changed gears. “What’s your mother like?”
His reply was instantaneous. “Loyal. Generous. Supportive.”
“And your stepfather?”
Cal paused, allowing himself the opportunity to study her features, the uptilted nose, the elegant sweep of her cheek. The way she looked genuinely interested in his answer. “Commanding. Immovable. Astute.”
“And he won’t figure out our newly engaged bliss is a front? Or are you planning to tell them the truth?” she said, her voice in complete control. Yet her eyes gave her away, deep pools of turmoil. Abruptly she glanced down, breaking contact.
“Are you worried about what people will think?” he asked slowly. The small crease between her eyes indicated he’d hit the truth.
“About what your parents will think, yes.”
Despite that ever-present distrust that lingered like an
