The Husband She'd Never Met

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 scent of frangipani in the air, and the sky was tinged with pink from the setting sun. Down by the water cockatoos squabbled in treetops. Out on the still, silvery bay, kayakers paddled.

The setting was idyllic. Carrie’s companion—her husband—was handsome and charming. She wanted to enjoy the moment and not to worry.

If only the situation didn’t feel so unreal—like a pretence, as if she’d slipped through a time warp and was living someone else’s life.

Max organised dinner, ordering takeaway food from a nearby Chinese restaurant, which he collected and then served using the apartment’s pretty aqua blue dinner service.

The night was deliciously balmy, so they lit candles with glass shades and ate on the balcony. Moonlight shone on the water and lights on the black shape of Magnetic Island twinkled in the distance. A yacht left the marina and glided smoothly and silently over the dark bay, heading out to sea.

For Carrie, the combination of the meal and the moonlight was quite magical, and she could feel her body relaxing, the nervous knots in her belly easing, even while her curiosity about Max and their marriage mounted.

‘Do you know what I’ve done with my wedding ring?’ The question, just one out of the hundreds of questions circling in her head, spilled from her before she quite realised what she was saying.

She felt a bit foolish as soon as it was out—especially when she saw surprise and then a flash of pain in Max’s eyes.

He took a moment to answer and she was nervous again, her heart fluttering in her chest like a trapped bird. What’s wrong? she wanted to ask him.

But when he answered he spoke quite calmly. ‘Your rings are at home on the dressing table.’

At home on the dressing table. It sounded so incredibly ordinary and sensible. Why had she been worried? ‘I suppose when you’re living in the Outback it makes sense not to wear them all the time?’

‘Yes, that’s what you decided.’

But there was something in Max’s eyes that still bothered her.

‘What’s my engagement ring like?’

‘It has two diamonds.’

‘Two? Lucky me.’

Max smiled at this. ‘It was my grandmother’s ring. She died not long after we met, but she wanted you to have it.’

‘Oh...’

‘You were happy to wear it. You liked her.’

Carrie felt a bit better, hearing this. It was reassuring to know that she’d got on well with Max’s grandmother. But it hinted at an emotional health that she didn’t feel.

Are we happy? Carrie wanted to ask next, but she wasn’t brave enough. For one thing she was haunted by her mother’s confusing question—the one she’d cut off and left dangling with no further explanation. As well, Carrie had the sense that both Max and her mother were carefully avoiding anything that might upset her.

Perhaps she should stop asking questions for now. But it was so hard to be patient and simply wait for her memory to return.

As they ate in silence, enjoying the delicious food and the pleasant evening, the questions kept circling in Carrie’s head.

It wasn’t long before she had to ask, ‘Did we have a honeymoon? Did we go somewhere exotic and tropical like this?’

Max smiled. ‘We most certainly had a honeymoon. We went to Paris.’

‘Paris?’

Stunned, Carrie let her fork drop to her plate as she stared at him. Paris was the last destination she’d expected. Max was an Outback cattleman, a rugged cowboy who loved the outdoors. He rounded up cattle and battled the elements, and no doubt rode huge rodeo bulls or wrestled crocodiles in his spare time.