The Husband She'd Never Met. Barbara Hannay

       CHAPTER FOUR

      ‘I’VE BOOKED AN APARTMENT,’ Max said as their vehicle crested a hill and a vista of sparkling blue sea and a distant green island suddenly lay before them. ‘I made the booking for a few days, in case you need time to adjust before we head back to Riverslea Downs.’

      ‘Thanks,’ said Carrie. ‘That’s thoughtful.’ Already, as they’d travelled from the hospital through the city, she’d noticed large shopping centres, several restaurants and cafés, and a movie theatre or two.

      ‘If you can’t be in Sydney, a big city like Townsville is at least better than a remote Outback cattle station,’ her mother said when she rang to find out how Carrie was.

      ‘Yes, I guess so.’ Carrie was actually more interested in finding out what it was that her mother had been going to tell her during their previous phone conversation.

      ‘I can’t remember,’ her mother said now, quite bluntly. And then, in more soothing tones, ‘Honestly, darling, I’ve forgotten. It can’t have been important.’

      Carrie was certain she was lying, but it seemed pointless to push the matter.

      Now, having rung off, she asked Max, ‘If we stay here for a few days who will look after your cattle?’

      This brought a smile. ‘The cattle can look after themselves for the time being. We’ve had a good wet season, so the dams are full and there’s plenty of pasture. But anyway Barney’s there.’

      Carrie frowned. ‘Who’s Barney?’

      Max looked momentarily surprised, as if he considered this person entirely unforgettable, but then he said quickly, ‘He’s an old retired ringer. He lives on the property. He worked there for nearly sixty years. Worked for my father before me. And when it was time to retire he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the Outback, so he has his own little cottage and does odd jobs around the place.’

      ‘A kind of caretaker?’

      Max grinned. ‘Better than a guard dog.’

      So it seemed Max was kind to old family employees. Carrie approved, and wondered if she should make a list of things she was learning about her husband.

      She soon discovered he’d chosen an impressive apartment. It was on the fourth floor of a building built right beside the sea, very modern and gleaming, with white walls and white floor tiles and a neat kitchen with pretty, pale granite bench tops. The living area was furnished with attractive cane furniture with deep blue cushions. A wall of white shutters opened on to a balcony with a view over palm trees to the dazzling tropical sea.

      ‘How lovely,’ she said. ‘I’m sure this must be the perfect spot for my recovery.’

      Max’s blue eyes were warm as he smiled. ‘That’s what I was hoping.’

      Tentatively, Carrie returned his smile. ‘We haven’t stayed here before, have we?’

      ‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘We usually come to Townsville a few times a year for a city break.’

      Really? It sounded like a pretty nice lifestyle. But right now Carrie had one rather big and worrying question—how many bedrooms were there?

      She looked around nervously, counting the doorways that led from the main living area, somewhat relieved to see there was more than one.

      ‘This is the main bedroom,’ Max said smoothly as he watched the direction of her gaze. And then he crossed to an open doorway. ‘Come and look—it’s not bad.’

      Still clutching the small leather holdall with her few possessions, Carrie followed him. The room was huge, with what seemed like acres of pale cream carpet and an enormous white and aqua bed. And there were floor-to-ceiling windows giving an incredible view to the sea on one side and to a pretty marina filled with sleek, beautiful yachts on the other. Another doorway led to an en-suite bathroom that was equally huge and white and luxurious.

      ‘It’s lovely,’ she said, and heat spread under her skin as she wondered, again, if Max planned to share this room with her.

      He was standing just a few feet away and his wide-shouldered presence seemed to make the bedroom shrink. Her imagination flashed forward—she was lying in that enormous bed, the sheets smooth and silky against her skin. Max was emerging from the bathroom, coming straight from the shower, naked, his powerful body gleaming in the lamplight. And then he was lifting the sheet and sliding in beside her...

      To her dismay, she realised he was watching her and she sucked in a shaky breath. The play of emotions on his face suggested that he was remembering something from their past. She wished she knew what it was. Wished she knew how many nights they’d spent in rooms like this. Max was so earthy and masculine... She was sure, deep in her bones, that those nights had been wild.

      ‘Were—were you planning to sleep in here, too?’ she asked, and her voice was ridiculously breathless.

      ‘You’re supposed to stay relaxed, so I was assuming you’d want your own bed, but it’s entirely your call.’ His expression was cool now, as if he was deliberately clearing it of emotion. ‘I don’t need to sleep here. There’s another room. Whatever you prefer.’

      Carrie gulped. ‘Right.’ Flustered, she looked around at this room which, in reality, was big enough to house a small village. She looked anywhere except at Max, who was waiting for her decision.

      ‘I’ll take the other room,’ he said quietly.

      She must have taken too long. She blinked and exhaled the breath she’d been holding, letting it go with an embarrassingly noisy whoosh. Foolishly, she felt a moment’s disappointment.

      Then she caught Max’s stern gaze, still fixed on her, and she couldn’t think what to say so she nodded. Almost immediately she marched back to the living room, curiosity driving her to check out the other bedroom.

      It was obviously designed for children, and was much smaller than the main room, without any of the views and with two single beds that looked ridiculously small for such a big man.

      She turned to Max, who had followed her. ‘You won’t be comfortable in here. We should swap. I’ll be perfectly fine in one of these beds, and I’m tired, so I don’t need the views and I wouldn’t—’

      ‘Carrie, calm down.’ Now Max looked almost amused. ‘It’s OK. I’ll be fine in here.’ The skin around his eyes creased as he smiled. ‘You’re convalescing. You’ll be better with a room to yourself, and the main bedroom has an en-suite.’

      ‘Well, yes,’ she said, still flustered. ‘Of course.’

      ‘Now, you should go on to the balcony and enjoy the view,’ he said. ‘I’ll make you a cup of tea.’

      Max looked more like a cowboy than a waiter or a chef, but he made a surprisingly good cuppa and, without asking, knew exactly how Carrie liked her tea—with just a dash of milk and no sugar. The evidence that he really was her husband was growing, and she accepted it with a mix of dismay and bewildering excitement.

      Perhaps when she got her memory back her life would be suddenly wonderful. Perfect. Far better than she could possibly imagine...in spite of their marriage’s Outback setting.

      For now, at least, it was very pleasant to sit on the balcony with a cool breeze blowing in from the sea. She caught the