Page 55 of Bride Under Contract

Their suite was so much more than a suite—it was beyond stunning. They stepped into a candlelit wonder, where the darkened lounge room showed the incredible skyline. But Grace loved it that he’d taken her to the roof to witness the towers first.

‘Wow!’ she kept saying as she explored the beautiful suite, trying out the low chairs, even dipping her toes in the sunken pool by the floor-to-ceiling windows.

Carter headed to the dressing room just off the master suite.

‘Passport,’ he called, as he put his own in the safe, checking too that the rings he’d ordered were in there, but without sentiment.

He tried to avoid the churn of feelings as he placed the black pouch in there. Wished to God that the damn teething ring had stayed beneath ground.

‘Grace,’ he said again. ‘Passport.’

‘It’ll be fine.’

‘Said the woman who fell asleep and dropped hers...’

‘True.’

He was surprised that after several modes of transport and many hours with her he wasn’t aching to be alone, or annoyed by her running commentary as she flitted from room to room, but he caught her tension as she stepped into the candlelit master bedroom.

She gave a nervous laugh. ‘We’ll spend half the night blowing out all the candles.’

‘I don’t think you have to worry about that.’

‘Here,’ Grace said, handing over her passport and then heading back out.

She didn’t linger in the bedroom. The vast white bed was daunting. It was so beautifully prepared... There were ‘his and her’ kimonos draped either side, and just a sensual look to it that made her throat feel tight.

A mocking voice told her that Carter would soon grow tired of his very inexperienced lover, especially in surroundings as sophisticated as this.

It was all so subtly sexy and dark. Like Carter, she thought as she went behind a glass wall and saw more candles placed around a deep stone bath already filled with soapy water.

‘Look,’ she said as Carter wandered through, and dipped her hand in. ‘It’s hot!’ she exclaimed. ‘How?’

‘They would have prepared it while we were at the bar,’ Carter said, breaking the romantic mood and flicking the lights on.

‘I wish you hadn’t done that,’ Grace muttered, seeing not just her tatty toiletry bag on the gleaming marble, but her tatty reflection in the equally gleaming mirror. And, yes, she looked as if she’d been dragged through the jungle backwards. ‘My hair!’ she groaned, for it seemed to move as one. ‘Are the mirrors in Sabah kinder?’

Carter found the mirrors kinder here.

The world was in neat order—unlike in the jungle.

He liked Grace brightly lit, so he could see the dusting of freckles on her nose, and how her T-shirt gaped as she leant forward and moaned about her eyebrows. He liked her bare feet on the marble floors...

‘I’m going shopping tomorrow,’ she told him, taking tweezers from her toiletry bag.

‘I’ll leave a credit card for you. Or charge it...’

‘I didn’t mean that.’ She stopped plucking her eyebrows and caught his eye in the mirror. ‘I was always going to get rid of these clothes and buy some new things.’

‘I don’t think the high street is going to cut it.’

Her eyes narrowed. ‘Are you saying I’m to be more “Carter Bennett’s fiancée” suitable?’

‘I’m saying exactly that.’ He nodded. ‘Tomorrow night I have to meet with a senior financier.’

‘Am I to make small talk with his wife?’

‘No, I shall be doing most of the talking. Simi’s the one who I need to sweet talk—you get the husband.’ He watched her get back to her eyebrows and could not resist adding, ‘They’re in the top one hundred of the most successful, beautiful people.’

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