The Wedding Date (6 page)

‘No, no, no,’ Hannah leapt in. ‘Elyse, Bradley’s not here to—’

‘You
are
coming to the wedding,’ Virginia insisted, stepping smack-bang between Hannah and her boss. ‘The accommodation is six-star. The food to die for. Cradle Mountain is the most beautiful spot on the entire planet. Bar none. You simply cannot come to Tasmania without experiencing her raw beauty for yourself. In fact it’s just the kind of place you should set one of your little shows.’

Hannah shook her head so hard she whipped herself in the eye with a hunk of hair. She slid into the fray and grabbed Bradley by the elbow, practically heaving him out of the clutches of her wily relations. ‘Bradley’s not here for the wedding. He’s here on business. He doesn’t even have a minute to spare and stand around here nattering. Do you, Bradley?’

‘I couldn’t possibly impose so last-minute,’ was his response.

She glared up into his eyes to find he was refusing to look at her. Then he shifted his stance, so that her hand slid into the all too comfortable crook of his elbow. Heat slid slyly down her arm.

She tried to pull away. He only clamped down tighter. Then he smiled at her, a quicksilver gleam in his deep, smoky grey eyes.

Her heart tumbled in her chest and she slipped her hand free. Oh, God. Oh, no.

She should
never
have compared him with rhinestones, or tight pink cardigans, or fruity cocktails with little umbrellas in them. He wasn’t protecting her. He was punishing her!

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Virginia said, linking her hand through his spare elbow. ‘Great-Aunt Maude left word last night to say she’s entirely sure she’s come down with consumption.’

Elyse rolled her eyes. ‘For the engagement party it was malaria. Apart from the hypochondria she’s the perfect great-aunt. She sends gifts ahead of time!’

Virginia turned towards the terminal and tugged Bradley in her wake. Hannah, as always, had no choice but to follow.

Virginia was saying, ‘So there’s a spare meal already paid for.’

Elyse, who had taken Bradley’s now free other elbow, said, ‘And the gift’s taken care of too! We’ll just pencil your name alongside Great-Aunt Maude’s on the card. She’ll never know. You won’t be sitting with Hannah, as she’ll be with Roger all night. But you seem like a man who can take care of himself.’

Hannah rolled her eyes. When they settled back into their normal position she realised Bradley was frowning at her.

‘Roger?’ he asked, his tone strangely accusing.

‘The best man,’ Elyse explained. ‘He’s a fitness guru. As maid of honour she’ll be stuck to the guy like glue for the duration. But we’ll find you a fun table, I promise.’

‘Besides,’ Virginia said, ‘you’re the reason our girl hasn’t been able to drag herself away till now. You owe us, so we won’t take no for an answer. Now, I’ll go find some people to do something about your luggage and get you a hire car. Ours is filled to the brim with things for the wedding, otherwise I’d happily ride shotgun while you took my wheel.’ She patted him on the cheek before bustling ahead, with Elyse at her heels.

Bradley slowed up till Hannah was beside him.

‘I told you to run,’ she said.

‘Yes, you did.’ He shook his head in wonder, then his cheek kicked into a half-smile that had her heart galloping all over again.

‘You can’t come,’ Hannah said.

He was silent for a beat. Two. She was sure he was about to agree wholeheartedly—until he looked down at her and said, ‘And why not?’

With his eyes on her, she said, ‘Because you’d cramp my style.’

The sun was behind him, so she couldn’t see his eyes, but the rumble in his voice more than made up for it. ‘Would I, now?’

She felt a smile creep across her face, and her impish streak flashed back to life as her mother disappeared from view. ‘You’ll never know.’

His, ‘Mmmm …’ was far too non-committal for comfort. ‘So, how does your father cope around all that frenetic feminine energy?’

Hannah’s smile faded. She fiddled with her father’s old watch. ‘He died when I was fourteen.’

And from the moment it had happened she’d felt like Cinderella, left all alone with the step-family—only the family she’d been left with was her own.

She felt Bradley’s eyes on her as she explained. ‘He adored Virginia to bits. Elyse and I actually thought it rather disgusting how often we caught them kissing at the kitchen sink. Then he died. And she remarried within six months. Things have been particularly cool between us ever since.’

Several moments passed before Bradley said, ‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Thanks.’

In the quiet of the great open space, Hannah wondered if the time was right, for the first time, to ask about
his
family. She had no idea if his parents were alive or dead. Missionaries or UFO-chasers. Or the King and Queen of some small European country populated by only the
most beautiful people. Or if he spent Sunday lunch with them every weekend.

But at the last second she baulked, unsure how far to press the quiet moment. Instead she just said, ‘Mum’s been married again. Twice to date.’

Promising to love and honour each of them with as much supposed vim as she had their lovely father. Each and every time clearly nothing more than a pretty lie. It was why Hannah would never make another person such a promise unless she really meant it. Unless she knew she would be assured of the same level of commitment right back. The idea of doing anything else made her feel physically ill.

She looked to where her mother was now drumming up help in the shape of goodness knew who.

She felt Bradley turn away to watch Virginia. Moth to a flame. Then he said, ‘Your mother …’

Hannah stiffened, preparing for the thing she’d heard a million times before.
Your mum’s so glamorous. And Elyse is like a little doll. While you are … different.

‘She’s …’ Bradley paused again. ‘I do believe that dress of hers is the place ruffles come to die.’

Hannah laughed so unexpectedly, so effusively,
so delightedly, it fast turned into a cough.

Bradley gave her a thump on the back. It only made her cough all the harder. And feel
absolutely
certain that her earlier fantasies of Bradley doing anything out of a deeply buried sense of human-being-like protection were just that. Fantasies. The likes of which she needed this long weekend without him in order to stamp out.

Once she’d caught her breath, she said, ‘Virginia does like her ruffles. As well as her pink fluffy cardigans and cocktails with umbrellas in them.’

The rhinestones went without saying, but the crease in his cheek told her he’d heard her all the same.

She smiled. She couldn’t help herself.

Then, as though he too felt the strange familiarity building between then, he frowned and looked away, up at the clear crisp sky. He sniffed in a trail of ice-cold air and thrust his hands into his pockets. Shutting her out.

And there she was, feeling like a satellite to his moon. If that wasn’t reason enough to put an end to her impossible crush, she didn’t know what was.

‘The day is moving on and we’re standing still. Time to get a move on. I’ll drop you at your resort and then be on my way.’

‘Resort?’
Hannah could all but hear her exclamation bouncing off the band of clouds hovering above the hills in the distance.

Bradley didn’t even flinch. ‘Spencer’s itinerary has me starting at Cradle Mountain. I studied his route, and it actually makes good sense. As does giving you a lift, since you clearly need one.’

Hannah snapped her mouth shut. If she’d been in charge of setting his itinerary she would have said the same. But she was on holiday. Out of the loop. And, yes, she
was
in need of a ride.

She threw her hands in the air and headed for the terminal.

He followed, his long legs catching up with her in two short strides.

She swallowed down the lick of envy at the happy tone in his voice. ‘This car that Spencer hired had better be something big and solid. The roads on this island can get mighty windy.’

‘It’s a black roadster. Soft-top.’ His large hands waved slowly through the air, as though he was tracing its curves in his mind.

Never before had Hannah felt so jealous of a machine.

‘Are you kidding me? Seems to me he’s passed on his drooling habits.’

A gentle kind of laughter tickled her ears.

She walked faster. But with his long, strong legs the blackguard kept up without any effort at all.

‘A
RE
we there yet?’ Hannah muttered, stretching as much of herself as she could in the confined space of the ridiculous sports car Spencer had blithely allowed their valuable boss to zoom around in. She’d be having a talk with him when they got home!

‘Turn left in eight hundred metres,’ said the deep Australian drawl of the GPS.

‘Ken,’ she said, ‘you are, as ever, my hero.’

‘Who on earth is Ken?’ Bradley asked, uttering his first words in nearly two hours. His mind was undoubtedly focussed on the embarrassment of gorgeous scenery they’d passed from Launceston to the mountain.

‘Ken’s the GPS guy.’

‘You’ve
named
him?’ he asked.

‘His mother named him. I just chose his voice when you were busy pretending to check the car for prior damage while actually drooling over the chassis. I’m certain you would have preferred Swedish Una, or British Catherine,
but it seemed only fair that, since you and my mother have railroaded me over and over again today, I got my way about one tiny part of my holiday.’

‘Your way is
Ken
?’

‘Don’t you use that tone when you talk about Ken. I’ll have you know I have him to thank for getting me out of many an oncoming tram disaster when I first moved to Melbourne.’

He glanced her way, giving her nothing more than a glimpse of her reflection in his sunglasses. ‘So your idea of the perfect man is one with a good sense of direction?’

‘I have no idea what my idea of the perfect man is. I’ve yet to meet one who even came close.’

She watched Bradley from the corner of her eye, waiting for his reaction to her jibe. He just lifted his hand from the windowsill and ran it across his mouth.

She fluffed her poncho till it settled like a blanket across her knees and said, ‘Though Ken
is
reliable. And smart. And always available. And he cares about what I want.’

‘Turn left. Then you have reached your destination,’ Ken said, proving himself yet again.

Before she even felt the words coming Hannah added, ‘And, boy, does he have the sexiest voice on the planet.’

Bradley’s hand stopped short. Mid-chin-stroke.
It slowly lowered to the steering wheel. ‘And there I was thinking he sounds a bit like me.’

He moved the car down a gear. Slowed. Then turned from the road onto a long, gumtree-lined drive. Hannah stared demurely ahead and said, ‘Nah.’

But the truth was that Ken’s deep, sexy Australian drawl reminded her so much of Bradley’s she’d often found herself turning her GPS on even when driving home on the rainy days she drove her little car to work rather than take a tram. She’d told herself it was the comfort of feeling as if there was someone else in the car when driving dark streets at night.

She’d lied.

And then, appearing from between a mass of grey-green flora sprinkled in glittering melting white snow, there was the Gatehouse. A grand façade dotted with hundreds of windows, dozens of chimneys and fantasy turrets. It was like something out of a fairytale, rising magnificent and fantastical out of the Australian scrub.

‘If this is the Gatehouse,’ Bradley said, slowing to a stop so that the sports car rumbled throatily beneath them, ‘what’s behind the gate?’

Hannah placed a hand on his arm, doing her best to ignore the frisson scooting through her at even the simplest of contacts, and pointed
to their left. Between two turrets there was a glimpse of the reason a chalet-style hotel could exist in such a remote place.

The stunning, stark, ragged peaks of Cradle Mountain.

Bradley slid his glasses from his face, eyebrows practically disappearing beneath his hairline. ‘God must be a cinematographer at heart to dream up this place.’

‘I know!’ Hannah said, practically bouncing on her seat. When she realised she was tugging at his sleeve, she let go and sat back and contained herself.

Bradley’s eyes slid to the building towering over them. ‘How many rooms?’

‘Enough for cast and crew.’

He finally dragged his eyes from the picture-perfect view to look at her. They were gleaming with the thrill of the find. The buzz of adventure. It was the closest he ever came to revealing anything akin to real human emotion. Moments like those were the reason her impossible crush sometimes felt like it was veering towards something just a little bit more.

Her hand shook ever so slightly as she tucked her hair behind her ear. ‘It’s perfect, right? Rugged and yet accessible. And wait till you get a load of the mountain up close. You’ll
never
want to leave. For me that moment will no
doubt come the minute I step foot in the corner spa in my room.’

A crease, then three, dug grooves into his forehead.

Okay, so maybe she was laying it on too thick. But if he understood her enthusiasm for the place, for the project, then come Tuesday she might be in with a chance for the promotion to actual producer she’d so blithely flung out there the day before.

He put the car back into gear and curved it around the circular drive until they pulled to a stop in front of a sweep of wide wooden stairs. Finally her holiday—read ‘Bradley-free time’—could begin in earnest.

When he got out of the car at the same time as her, she gave him a double-take. It turned into a triple when she realised he wasn’t dragging her luggage from the boot. He was eyeing the hotel’s front doors.

Her stomach sank. She waved a frantic hand at the hotel. ‘No, no, no! First you show up at my apartment and practically drag me here on your plane. Then you force me into that excuse for a tourist car. And now this?’

He turned to her, his eyes unreadable. ‘And there I was thinking I had been
generous
in supplying a private jet and a free hire car as a way of thanking you for all your hard work.’