Page 12 of Bride Under Contract

‘That’s fine.’

He was actually relieved to avoid heavy topics tonight, as well as the ongoing tension between himself and Arif. Instead, he asked about the couple’s young children, and found out the eldest was out in the jungle with his father tonight.

‘Already?’ Carter frowned, appalled at the thought of a child out there. ‘Reheeq’s only four...’

‘He’s six—and you went out long before then.’ Jamal laughed. ‘Here...’ She gave him a key. ‘Do you want dinner while your luggage is unloaded?’

‘I’m fine,’ Carter declined. ‘I’ve had a lot of stops along the way.’

‘Then I’ll show you to your suite...’

‘No need.’ Carter knew the place like the back of his hand.

‘It’s good you’re here,’ Jamal said, then glanced up from the little jetty to the softly lit dining area above. ‘I had better go...there are still guests dining...’

She dashed off, which in itself was unusual for Jamal, but walking down the walkway he heard rather raucous laughter from the dining area and knew she must be busy.

For most the resort was a tranquil paradise, with trailing flowers, the sound of cicadas... But for Carter, being back was his own version of hell. The dense jungle was not just close, it shrouded the resort and—call it denial—he would by far prefer not to have known that Arif and his young son were out there tonight.

But then from dark thoughts there was a sudden and very unexpected distraction.

It would appear that Grace Andrews, the woman from the airport, was staying here at the resort.

Carter recognised her immediately—recalled her name instantly. He’d even thought about her on the flight. Flying at altitude, cabin lights dimmed, he’d found that he’d smiled when recalling their brief interaction, and how she’d blushed when he’d overheard her calling him ‘sir’.

Now her beauty, even in the dim lighting, was almost luminescent, and his eyes were instantly drawn to where she sat on a large chair, with her legs tucked under her, looking through her phone. She was wearing a red sarong, revealing slender arms and shoulders, and her hair was tied high in a loose knot. She was alone.

‘How are the ears?’ he asked, and watched her jolt.

‘Oh!’ she said as she looked up. ‘It’s you.’

Then she smiled, her full lips spreading, as did the pink tinge to her creamy complexion. She smiled not just with her eyes, as she had so briefly at the airport, and not just with her lush lips, but with her whole self.

Putting down her phone and uncurling her legs, she sat up.

For Carter the initial impact he’d felt on sighting her was followed by two counter punches—one to his groin, as his body reacted to her effortless beauty in a familiar way, and also a rare hit to his chest, a surge of pleasure simply to see her warm smile. Though he doubted Grace could begin to comprehend just how welcome her greeting was at this intolerable time.

‘My ears are much better, thank you.’

He watched as she tucked loose tendrils of hair behind little pixie-looking ears. After a difficult few days Grace really was a sight for sore eyes. Oh, there had been no hostility on his journey—the locals were too kind and welcoming for that. It was more that he’d been able to feel their concern, and a slight air of suspicion also—which, given it was his cousin who posed the danger, he knew was merited.

Yes, Grace Andrews was a pleasant surprise indeed.

‘Your voice is a lot...’ He paused before selecting his word, thinking how loud it had been when he’d woken her. It was gentler now, as well as a little throaty and... ‘A lot softer than I recall.’

And all the huskier for seeing you! Grace thought, clearing her throat, while wondering what on earth had happened to her vocal cords.

He was as stunning as she’d remembered him to be. And, yes, when recalling their first meeting she’d wondered if she’d somehow exaggerated his beauty. But if anything she’d underplayed it. He wore a dark, untucked yet fitted shirt, with the sleeves pushed up, and grey linen trousers. He was unshaven and sporting several days’ worth of dark stubble. But even casually dressed, even with that black hair a touch dishevelled, he cut an expensive dash.

‘All alone?’ he asked, glancing down at the single iced tea on her table.

‘Yes. Well, except for the newlyweds and...’ She gestured with her head to the noisy group in the dining area behind.

‘Are they in your tour group?’

‘No, thank goodness.’ Grace shook her head. ‘They got here before us. I think they’re...’ She halted, certain he didn’t want to hear her musings, but it would seem she was wrong.

‘Mind if I join you?’ he said, gesturing to the empty seat opposite.

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