Marriage in Name Only

Chapter THIRTEEN


THEY LANDED IN Melbourne late at night during a rainstorm. The heavy sky was still spitting its vengeance on the windscreen as Jordan’s chauffeured car neared the CBD. Which was only fitting, Chloe thought. She’d wear the weather as an accessory. That way no one would notice her mood or her tears. Except she was determined not to cry until she reached the privacy of her bedroom.

She’d planned to get her own cab but there was no press around and cabs were thin on the ground, so Jordan’s car it was. They’d barely spoken during the flight, made easier by their individual wraparound seats. Thank God for wealthy businessmen. Both of them had been tired after almost no sleep the previous night, so, apart from when Jordan had been working furiously on his laptop or on the phone, most of the time one or the other had been asleep.

Or in Chloe’s case, pretending to be. It had been hard, but necessary, and it had left her almost dead on her feet, a blessing, she hoped, that would help her crash out for the next twelve hours.

The car turned into her street. ‘It’s late,’ he said. ‘Stay at my apartment tonight.’

Her heart leapt at his invitation, but she pressed her lips together and looked out of the window. It was only delaying the inevitable and she didn’t want to see his apartment. To know where he lived and imagine him there. Worse, imagine him there with another woman. ‘No, Jordan.’

‘Then let me stay here. With you.’

Something in his tone had her turning to him. She’d never seen that look in Jordan’s eyes. Clearly, he wasn’t used to being turned down. ‘I told you my bed’s too small.’

He looked as if he might argue, then glanced at the driver up front, and Chloe realised it was costing Jordan to sweet-talk her into something he must know she’d refuse in front of his staff.

‘I have a headache,’ she improvised for the sake of his pride as they pulled into the kerb. ‘Jet lag. I need an uninterrupted night’s sleep.’

The driver climbed out to retrieve her luggage from the boot, leaving them alone in the back seat. She dug through her bag ostensibly looking for her keys.

‘So this is it, then.’ His voice was hard and remote-sounding.

‘Yes.’ She heard the tremor in her voice and tightened her fingers around her keys, then hoisted her bag onto her shoulder, desperate to get away. ‘Thanks for—’

‘Save it.’ He wrenched his door open. ‘Like it or not, I’m walking you to your damn door. You can thank me then.’

Rain spat on her face, chilling her as she hurried up the path, Jordan following with her bag. Somehow she got the key in the lock, then turned to him. Thankfully the security light didn’t seem to be working and it was dark under the veranda. But not dark enough to miss the granite set of his jaw, the flash of—was that temper?—in his eyes.

Why? Because he hadn’t got his own way? Something inside her responded in kind. And far better for her self-preservation to turn her misery into irritation or annoyance. Just because she’d gone and fallen in love with him didn’t mean she was going to let him change her mind and go against what she knew was the right decision. For both of them.

So toughen up, Chloe. She wasn’t going to apologise for her choice. He had a masters degree in seduction and another in persuasion and she wasn’t going to allow a man to make her decisions for her ever again.

‘Chloe. Listen up.’ Stepping close, he tilted her face up to his with a finger so she had no choice but to look into his eyes, shuttered now, betraying little of what he was feeling. His temper seemed to have dissipated and he spoke with a measured calm. ‘I don’t want to stop seeing you but I made a promise when we signed our agreement. I’m not going to force you into something you don’t want.’

‘Tha—’

‘Or should I say, what you do want but you’re too afraid to admit.’ His hand fell away and he stepped back, leaving her feeling chilled to the bone and totally exposed because he read her like a book.

She firmed her chin. ‘With regards to our business arrangement, if anything changes with Qasim or the deal, and you need my assistance, please let me know.’ She knew she sounded PA prim.

His eyes held hers captive. ‘If you change your mind about us, or decide to come clean with me, you have my contact details.’

He didn’t kiss her goodbye, just spun on his Italian leather shoe’s heel and walked down her path, his black cashmere coat flapping behind him. Taking her heart with him.

But not her independence, not her identity. She still had those, at least. And will they keep you warm on a cold winter’s night? a little voice whispered.

At the gate he turned back, spine rigid, his eyes darker than midnight. ‘You say you like to finish what you start. We started something and it’s not finished, so I’m wondering, how do those loose ends sit with you, Chloe?’

Then he was gone.

Three days later, from his expansive view in one of Perth’s newest office buildings, Jordan rolled his executive chair back and watched the western sky grow pink behind a bank of mushroom-coloured clouds. It was the first time he’d taken a break since he’d started work at five a.m.

He’d sent his PA away and told her he wasn’t to be disturbed under any circumstances. Roma had asked did that include coffee? before his frown had answered for him and he hadn’t seen a glimpse or heard a peep from her since.

A knock sounded at his door and an unsmiling Roma poked her head in. She was an attractive forty-something brunette and Jordan valued her highly. ‘I’m leaving now,’ she said, and held a small packet out for him. ‘This came this afternoon, registered express post. Thought it might be important and I didn’t want to just leave it …’

Hell. Her tone and body language made him feel as if he’d kicked a puppy. ‘Thanks, Roma.’ When she didn’t come any closer, he crossed the room and took it from her. ‘Bad day.’ He forced a smile. ‘Guess I won’t win employer of the year.’

‘Maybe not this year.’ A tentative smile crossed her face. ‘I know this trip’s been stressful …’ She hesitated, as if waiting for an explanation. When none was forthcoming, she went on, ‘I’ll be going, then, if there’s nothing further you need. Or if you want to talk …’ She shook her head once. ‘Guess not.’

‘I’m fine, Roma. Thanks. See you tomorrow.’ If she hadn’t tendered her resignation, that was. Ah … ‘Roma?’

She turned, warily. ‘Yes?’

‘How’s Bernie?’ Roma’s husband was also an employee, a geologist up north in one of his mines.

Her brows lifted, puzzled. ‘Fine, last we spoke. He’s due home in a fortnight.’

Jordan nodded. ‘I find myself in the rather desperate position of being dateless for the Rapper One ball and—’

‘You want me to find you a date?’ Her eyes widened and her voice rose a notch.

‘No, no. Not that. I know you and Bernie attended last year so I was wondering—rather, hoping, since Bernie can’t be here with you this year—that you’d accompany me instead.’

‘Oh.’ A long awkward pause. ‘Well. That sounds … nice.’

‘I’ll ring Bernie myself and check with him first to make sure he’s okay with it. I promise to work on my social skills in the meantime.’

Her smile warmed a few degrees and the Roma he knew shone through. ‘You do that and I’ll talk Bernie into letting me buy a new outfit.’

‘Great. Have a good evening. And I’ll put the word on Bernie about that new dress.’

He watched her leave, then turned the mystery packet over in his hands and read the sender’s address. Chloe Montgomery. His gut cramped and he traced her scrawled handwriting as if he could bring her to him by touch. Images of her shot back. Hair that reminded him of sunlight. Her smile that could light up his day—and his night. The last time he’d seen her, on her veranda and telling him it was over.

She hadn’t been smiling then.

He ripped through the packaging and withdrew a familiar box. ‘Dammit, Blondie,’ he muttered, already knowing what he’d find—the gold jewellery and the wedding ring.

And what the hell was he supposed to do with them? He ran his fingers along the slim gold chain, remembering how she’d looked that morning he’d clasped it around her neck. Understated elegance. The kind of woman who’d make any man proud to have her by his side, be it business or pleasure. He’d never forget the way she’d supported him that day, her enthusiasm when he’d told her he’d won the old sheikh over.

And now she’d tossed his gift back in his face. By remote. Did she care so little about him that she wanted no reminders at all? Had what they’d shared meant nothing? Had she just been waiting for that second payment to go into her account—which he’d attended to first thing this morning—and now further contact was unnecessary? Unwanted?

His fingers tightened on the chain momentarily before he slipped it back in its box, flipped the lid shut and shoved it back in its post pack.

No loose ends.

Her words echoed in his head and he refused to acknowledge the way his whole body tensed and constricted as his control over his emotions slipped a notch. He’d all but begged her to let him stay the night. He stalked grimly across the room. He never allowed emotion to gain the upper hand. Why waste time thinking about a woman who was probably already on her way out of the country?

On an oath, he shoved the packet in his wall safe, slammed the door shut, effectively putting a full stop at the end their relationship. Done. She had her clean break as she wanted.

And wasn’t that what he wanted too?

‘So you’re serious about leaving Melbourne?’

Dana’s voice penetrated Chloe’s thoughts and she realised she wasn’t in a silken tent in Dubai, she was in a commercial kitchen prepping for tomorrow morning’s breakfast function and had no idea what her boss had just said. She blinked away the daydream. ‘Pardon?’

‘Are you sure about moving on? You just started here and you said you like it.’

‘I’m sorry, circumstances have made it necessary for me to move on.’ The possibility of running into Jordan was just too likely here working with Dana.

‘By “circumstances”, you mean Jordan.’

Chloe was slicing glacé cherries and her knife slipped. ‘Ouch.’

‘You okay?’

Chloe checked that no skin was broken and continued. ‘Yep.’

‘Can you check the inventory on my PC for me?’ Dana slid the last tray of cheese platters into the fridge and indicated her PC tablet on the nearby desk with her chin. ‘I want to make sure we didn’t forget to add those canapés tomorrow night’s client ordered at the last minute. And watch your fingers. I don’t want blood in my fruit compotes.’

‘Watching,’ Chloe murmured, and set her knife down, wiped her hands and crossed the room. At her touch the screen lit up and she found herself staring at a society news page.

Jordan.

For an instant her heart soared like a bird. then dived to her feet as if she’d been shot. Jordan, looking sexy as sin in his tux and escorting an attractive brunette to some charity event in Perth two nights ago. His charity. He’d never mentioned the function to Chloe.

Ridiculous to be jealous. She refused to think about the fact that it had been nearly two weeks since she’d told him it was over—obviously he’d wasted no time moving on to the next available woman.

No thanks to Dana for interfering.

She slapped the cover over the screen, and met her boss’s eyes. ‘Not fair, Dana.’ Her lips felt numb, her legs felt like water. Untying her apron, she headed for the door.

‘Chloe, it’s his PA. Roma West. And she’s very married.’

‘So?’ She stopped, told her trembling self it didn’t matter. ‘What’s your point?’

‘You’re in love with him. I wanted to be sure. And I do know what you were doing in Dubai.’

Not everything, Chloe hoped. She crushed the corners of her apron between her fingers and forced herself to walk back to her station. Calm, steady. ‘You’re way over the line. And you’re wrong. Why would I want to fall in love with an arrogant, domineering man like your friend Jordan Blackstone?’

‘Wanting has nothing to do with it. And do not pick up that knife.’ Swooping in, Dana finished slicing the last few cherries, popped them on the top of the little glass bowls then carried the tray to the fridge. ‘If he meant nothing to you, you wouldn’t have reacted that way.’

That jealous, vulnerable way. Chloe swiped up a cloth and began wiping down surfaces. ‘So what if I am?’ Then she sucked in a breath because suddenly her secret was out and she hadn’t ever meant for it to be.

‘It’s okay,’ Dana said quietly. ‘I won’t say anything.’

‘Is it that obvious?’ God, no, please not.

‘The look on your face just then? And you came back to work even though Jordan had paid me enough to cover your wages for the next week. Believe me, that’s not normal behaviour.’

‘I like to work,’ Chloe told her. ‘It’s therapeutic.’

No matter how healthy her bank balance was—’Does he know? Did he say something?’

‘Not to me he hasn’t. And if he knows, would that be so bad?’

‘Absolutely.’ Oh, she’d be mortified. Her one-sided love was tragedy enough without letting the hapless victim in on it. A man who saw women as manipulative and money-hungry.

‘Why?’

She feigned indifference and rinsed out her cloth. ‘A man’s too complicated. I’m not in one place long enough …’

‘Sometimes you need to stop a while and listen to your heart.’

‘I … Maybe.’ And suddenly something inside her yearned for a piece of that slow-down time. Time to make a home of her own where she could paint the walls whatever colour she wanted. Where she could plant bulbs and watch them flower for more than one springtime.

Not some palatial English manor she’d never belong in, but her own place.

A place to put down roots like those spring bulbs.

And she could do that now, she realised. Ironic that it was Jordan who’d made it possible when he wasn’t going to be a part of it. Her heart plunged down the sinkhole with the water. She knew enough about him to know she loved him, but not enough, perhaps, to fully understand him. ‘That function he was at … his charity, isn’t it? It obviously means a great deal to him.’

‘Yes.’

‘Why is he so devoted to helping troubled teens?’

‘It stems from his past. He had a tough childhood that no kid should have to grow up with.’

‘I know he loved his dad, so was it his mother? He refused to speak about her.’

‘He won’t speak about her to anyone, but, according to Sadiq, she was a witch and his father was too weak to stand up to her.’

‘Poor kid.’ She understood rejection, and her heart twisted for what Jordan the child must have endured that he refused to acknowledge his own mother and counselled troubled youth.

‘Whatever you do, don’t let him hear your sympathy.’ Dana cleaned the knife and put it away. ‘Let’s call it a night here.’

‘But I haven’t fin—’

‘The morning’s soon enough.’ Dana glanced at her watch, answered an incoming text before slipping her phone in her bag and marching Chloe to the door by her elbow. ‘Come on, we’re going to unwind with a cappuccino at my favourite Chapel Street café. My treat, and I’m not taking no for an answer.’

Chloe frowned down at her flat shoes, work trousers and ‘Dana’s Events’ monogrammed uniform top. Unlike Dana, who hadn’t been wearing a uniform and had managed to grab her high-fashion fur coat on the way out.

‘I’m hardly dressed for going out. Are you sure you don’t need to be somewhere?’

‘Only somewhere warm and cosy and familiar where the coffee’s hot and the lights are low.’

‘So you and Chloe enjoyed your honeymoon.’ Sadiq leaned back in the dimly lit, high-backed booth specifically chosen for its privacy in the back of a classy out-of-the-way upstairs café on Chapel Street and studied Jordan over the rim of his glass. ‘Qasim mentioned it.’

‘Of course he did.’ Jordan tipped back his glass, swallowed long and deep. ‘Did he tell you the rest?’

‘He admired your honesty and courage and thought Chloe would be a good partner for you when you decide to make it legitimate. He’s not as unyielding as we thought.’

Jordan didn’t answer. In a magic kingdom far, far away lived a princess with flaxen hair and amber eyes. Storybook stuff.

‘Is she the reason you’re back in Melbourne again so soon?’

Sadiq’s question interrupted Jordan’s thoughts and he blinked away the image. ‘Had some work on the Tilson mine.’

‘Right.’

‘Yeah.’ Have you seen her?

‘No. But I reckon you need to.’

Crikeys, had he spoken aloud? ‘You’re starting to sound like your wife.’

‘Just saying. No reason to get defensive. Or is there?’ he murmured. ‘You never said how you two got on.’

Jordan took a while to answer. This was Sadiq, his best mate. The one who’d been there when Lynette had disappeared. ‘She was different. She wasn’t like any woman I’ve ever met—she saw me … differently.’

‘And it scares the hell out of you. Is that why you’ve relegated her to the past tense?’

‘Fact is, she didn’t want to continue what we had—how did she put it? No loose ends. So it’s a moot point.’

‘And you didn’t try to convince her otherwise?’

‘Why would I? One thing I’ll say for Chloe, she’s got a sensible head on her shoulders.’ Those beautiful creamy elegant shoulders …

‘What if she walked in here now?’

‘What if she did?’ He shrugged, unwilling to contemplate that scenario because there were too many unresolved questions.

‘What if she told you she’d changed her mind?’

‘Maybe I’d tell her I’d changed mine now.’ His fists tightened on the tabletop. ‘I won’t be manipulated by a woman’s passing whims.’

‘No one’s manipulating you, mate. Chloe’s not Lynette.’

‘There you are.’ At the sound of Dana’s voice, Jordan looked up and was confronted by not one manipulative woman, but two.

And then I saw her face … As he stared at the woman he hadn’t seen in twelve days, give or take a couple of hours, the words from a familiar pop song danced through his head, carving up a path straight to his heart where they continued to stomp and stamp like a wild rock concert.

He heard Chloe’s stifled gasp and even though the lights were dim her eyes looked like saucers, her complexion as pale and fragile as eggshell. She looked a hell of a lot like he felt. She was also wearing one of those unflattering Dana’s Events uniforms so maybe she was as innocent in this set-up as he.

Sadiq slid out of the high-backed bench seat and rose. ‘Dana and I are off to check out the latest sci-fi movie. Catch you two later.’

‘Hang on—’

‘No—’

Both he and Chloe protested at the same time.

Jordan stood, their partners in crime left and the two of them stared at each other.

‘I know you think I had something to do with this,’ Chloe said before he could speak, her eyes willing him to believe her. ‘But I didn’t.’

‘Seems fate threw us together one more time.’

‘Not fate, just two meddling friends of yours.’

‘They’ll keep. Might as well have a seat now you’re here.’

She hesitated before sliding into the seat opposite. ‘I won’t stay long, I’ve got an early start tomorrow.’

‘Don’t we all? Coffee?’

‘Thank you.’

He summoned the waiter hovering nearby and ordered two cappuccinos. ‘You caught up with your parents yet?’

‘Only by email but they’re very grateful for the money. So thanks. I told them about … the breakup with Stewart and leaving—thanks to you for that too because I needed a kick up the backside to make it happen.’

‘That’s good to hear.’

‘Mum actually asked when I’m coming home. She’s finally emailing me herself now.’

‘She misses you. They all miss you.’

‘Maybe. I never thought they did.’

‘Maybe you never gave them a chance.’

‘Maybe I was afraid to.’

‘You’re going to tell them everything then?’

‘Not everything.’ He heard the hint of humour in her voice.

‘I’ve missed you too, Chloe.’ The words slipped from his mouth before he could call them back.

‘Oh.’ Her whole being seemed to light up like the sun appearing after morning mist and her eyes splashed with warmth and for a crazy second he thought maybe she’d missed him too, but then that grey mist rolled back and her smile wasn’t the smile he wanted to see. It was brittle and way too bright when she said, ‘Bet you say that to all the girls.’

Dammit, Chloe. He’d thought he’d conquered vulnerability years ago but the iron fist squeezing his chest disabused him of that notion. That old feeling of craving even a scrap of his mother’s affection slid back like a dark tide. A kid’s lack of understanding. The hurt of being ignored. Resented.

‘Knowing my reputation with women, wouldn’t those sentiments be counter-productive?’ He pasted some kind of a grin on his lips that felt as if it didn’t belong. ‘After all, I wouldn’t want them getting the wrong idea, would I?’

Chloe’s expression froze and she didn’t answer, sliding the sugar bowl around on the table between them in quick little circles and changing the topic. ‘I read your charity ball was a success. Not that I was checking up on you,’ she added quickly. ‘Dana happened to arrange for me to see a picture of you and your PA posing for the cameras.’

‘Did she?’ he clipped.

‘You’re big news in W.A. Australia-wide, in fact.’ She waved a hand about them, reminding him again of the way she moved—with elegance and a charming carelessness that had fascinated him from day one. ‘No wonder this place is so hard to get into and dimly lit and private for the right people. You really are a celebrity.’ Her eyes were dark honey tonight and everywhere but on his.

‘I’m as ordinary as you.’ Reaching over the table, he wrapped a hand around her busy one, waiting until he had her full attention to say, ‘I know a place not far from here that’s much more private.’





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