With This Fling... (20 page)

‘I forgive you, of course. I’ll chalk it up to you being overwhelmed by my brilliant plan.
As for getting married, it seems only prudent if we’re going to be travelling together, especially with the baby. Authorities are very fond of minors travelling with natural parents of the same surname. It saves all sorts of lengthy explanations, and I should know. Having a different surname from Aurora’s was the bane of our lives.’

But Greyson would not be sidetracked. ‘We are
not
travelling to Ecuador with the baby.’

‘I thought you said you
wanted
a wife and family who’d be open to travel,’ argued Charlotte sweetly.

‘That was before I
had
one !’

‘Not that you do,’ said Charlotte. ‘Have one, that is. Strictly speaking, we’d have to be married for that particular statement to hold true.’ She eyed the flint-eyed piece of steaming, stupendously muscled manhood standing before her with a thoughtful yet fully appreciative gaze. ‘What are you doing next Wednesday?’

Dr Greyson Tyler, eminent botanist, expedition leader and all round useful guy, wasn’t an unreasonable man. He tolerated insanity in others. He took his time and tried to work around it. He stayed calm and employed patience, secure in the knowledge that good sense and superior powers of reasoning would eventually hold
sway. They had to, now more so than ever. This was his future wife and child they were talking about.

Unfortunately, all his fine qualities seemed to have temporarily deserted him.

‘What kind of man drags his wife and newborn to the end of the earth and back?’ he roared.

‘So … you’re opposed to the idea?’ said Charlotte.

‘
Yes
, I’m opposed to the idea! It’s a very
bad
idea.’

‘Even though I have a comprehensive knowledge of what’s involved and you have a wonderfully protective streak that should stand us in good stead?’

Greyson glared at her.

Charlotte stifled a delighted grin. Olivia had been so right. There
was
compromise to be had here—in Greyson, and within herself. A commitment to family that would always bring them home. ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘Let’s assume that I
do
happen to agree with you when it comes to traipsing around Ecuador with a newborn. Let’s assume that I want to give birth here in Sydney and get the hang of motherhood with grandparents in tow, and a doting Millie, and a long-suffering Derek, and most of all with you at my side. I’ll give you that one.’

‘Keep talking,’ said Greyson, so she did.

‘I’m talking about travelling with you to the Galapagos throughout my second trimester and maybe a little way into the third. I’m talking about finding me somewhere lovely to stay on San Cristobal, somewhere with good hospital facilities just in case, while you go do your work and Millie and Derek go looking for my father’s site. I’m talking about not being emphatically opposed to travelling with you if future work opportunities demand it. We could choose our locations carefully. We could keep this as our home. We could have the best of both worlds.’

‘Are you serious?’

‘Very.’ Time to get up and walk towards him, take his hands in hers, and make him see that when it came to their future together she was and would always be serious. ‘I recently had a little epiphany.’

‘That makes two of us,’ he muttered.

‘Mine was about belonging,’ she said. ‘I’d been working towards it for a while but you hastened it along, and a recent conversation with your mother simply clarified where I was headed. Having a permanent home has always been this shining dream for me, you see. Home was the place where nothing bad ever happened and I was always in control—my perfect world where parents never died and
I was surrounded by a family who loved me. Thing is, that place was always just a dream. Make believe to keep the loneliness at bay. The same way Gil was make believe. None of it was ever real. You are.’

‘That was your epiphany?’ he said, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. ‘That I’m real?’

‘No, it’s that being home isn’t about staying put and living in the one place. It’s about being with the man I love. Supporting him. Being there for him. And trusting him to know that when we do need to settle in one place for a time and raise our family, we will.’

‘I need to think,’ he muttered. ‘My epiphany involved staying here because that was what you wanted. Safety. Security. Stability. You walked away from me once because I couldn’t offer that to you—
wouldn’t
offer it. I’m offering it to you now.’

‘We
do
seem to be at cross purposes, don’t we?’ Charlotte sent him an encouraging smile. ‘But never fear. You’ll come round to my way of thinking eventually.’

But at this, he shook his head. ‘I can’t think here. I need to think.’ He broke away from her and strode to the window, a man in need of clarity, a man at the end of his wits. ‘I’m going for a swim.’

‘Excellent idea,’ murmured Charlotte. ‘The pool’s beautifully warm.’ She’d already taken a dip in it to do the stretching exercises the physio had recommended for her ribs and chest. She stretched again now, drawing Greyson’s gaze, deliberately adding physical desire to the cauldron and stirring gently. ‘Are bathers optional?’

‘Not in the pool,’ he said darkly. ‘In the harbour.’

‘Oh.’ Charlotte shuddered. ‘You’re on your own there.’ She wasn’t opposed to beach swimming or snorkelling around pristine island atolls; she loved the water. But Sydney Harbour was different. ‘Bring back some apples.’

‘You have a distinct problem with reality,’ he countered. ‘You know that, don’t you?’

‘Hello-o.’
Time to return to her chair and give her man the thinking time he’d demanded. Time to retreat behind the pages of her father’s journal. ‘Archaeologist.’

‘Believe me, I hadn’t forgotten,’ he said grimly. ‘Oh, and, Charlotte?’

‘Hmm?’ She peered over the top of the journal. ‘You spoke, my love?’

‘You mentioned marriage,’ he said curtly.

‘Yes. So I did.’

‘Wednesday’s fine.’

While Greyson cooled off in the water and planned his next move, Charlotte took advantage of his absence and planned hers. Sunset wasn’t all that far away and one thing their bedroom did have was a spectacular viewing window to the west and a harbour view that had sold the house to Aurora in the first place.

Greyson didn’t need candles but Charlotte lit some anyway. A man with a lot on his mind deserved as much. The nightgown she chose to wear was a wondrous piece of lavender silk and lace. The slave bracelets at her wrists added a nice hint of pagan. She shook out her hair and checked her ribs for tenderness. Feeling good. Still a little faded yellow bruising here and there, but the plan was to try and keep this nightgown
on
for the most part, and make Greyson forget her injuries and her recent brush with catastrophe. Life was for living, and live it she would.

Thank you, Aurora. You’d like him, I think. Greyson. My fiancé. He’s useful, and honourable, and he helped me find my way home.

If wishes were wishes …

My wish has come true.

Greyson came back from the harbour all showered and shaved and tidied up. He’d cleaned up on his boat, he’d put a shirt on over the
knee length canvas shorts he usually reserved for sailing. It was a very nice shirt, collared, dove grey, as soft and as warm as cotton could be—Charlotte knew this from experience. He’d even buttoned it up.

Greyson’s eyes gleamed when he saw her. He looked like a man refreshed and ready for anything. Including her.

‘Feel better?’ she asked, and crossed to the sideboard where she’d set up a mini bar. Lime and soda for her, smooth Scotch in a round glass for him and she handed it to him with a smile and a challenge.

‘Much better.’

‘Decisive?’

‘Very.’ He eyed her nightgown with gratifying appreciation and her slave bracelets with sharp speculation. ‘And how is my fiancée feeling this fine, fine evening?’

‘Obliging.’

‘That’s good.’ Greyson’s voice had deepened to a husky rumble. ‘That’s very good.’

‘I thought we might enjoy the sunset together.’ Charlotte sipped her soda and admired the view before her. So much to admire about this man. The compromises he’d been willing to make for her and their child. His fierce intelligence and impressive focus. His strength of will and that beautiful hard body that he’d kept on a
leash of late, on account of her injuries. She loved his protectiveness, for it spoke of his love for her. She loved
him,
body and soul. ‘If you wanted to, that is.’

‘I do.’

‘And then I thought you might want to enjoy me.’

‘I do.’ Greyson set his drink aside. ‘Never doubt it.’

Charlotte gently set her drink next to his. She slid her hands up to his shoulders and around the back of his neck. Greyson’s lips touched hers, gentle and worshipping. Not what she wanted from this man tonight. She deepened the kiss. Greyson’s kisses grew fiercer and more passionate, but his arms did not come around her to gather her close.

‘The doctor said—’ he began, and she shushed him with gentle fingers.

‘That was three weeks ago. The doctor says I’m fine and that our baby is fine and that there’s absolutely no reason why I can’t be making love to you if I’m careful.’

Charlotte freed the top few buttons on his shirt and pressed her lips to his collarbone. Greyson groaned again. Hard to say whether it was in dismay.

‘Charlotte, we can’t,’ he said huskily. ‘I can’t. I’m too …’

‘Protective?’ she said helpfully. ‘Stubborn?’

‘Too afraid I’ll hurt you,’ he muttered and brought his hands up to her face and his lips to hers for a kiss that fed her soul. ‘That I’ll ask for too much and you’ll give it and we’ll both regret it.’

‘That won’t happen. I love you, Greyson Tyler. I love who you are and what you do. I’m in—all the way in—but there’s balance here between us too. Can’t you feel it?’

‘I love you,’ he murmured gruffly. ‘There’s nothing I want more than to share my life with you. Travel with you, stay here and raise a family with you, build a foundation, work on my own projects. I want it all.’

‘I’m glad to hear it. Because I want it all too, including your lovemaking.’ Charlotte stepped away from his touch, put her hand in his, and led him to the bed, urging him onto it, on his back, exactly where she wanted him. ‘Starting from now.’ She straddled him carefully, clothes and all. Plenty of time for the removal of clothes later. ‘We can do this.’ Leaning forward, she set her hands to Greyson’s shoulders and watched with satisfaction as his eyes flared and darkened. ‘We
are
doing this.’
She kissed the edge of his lips and the line of his jaw until finally she reached his ear.

‘What’s more,’ she whispered, ‘we’re going to love it.’

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If wishes were fishes, beggars would fly