What the Bride Didn't Know

‘What?’ she finally mumbled, once she’d picked up.

‘You want to have breakfast at this little café I saw on my walk last night?’

‘When?’

‘Now.’

‘What time is it?’

‘Five-seventeen.’

Lena groaned, a sleepy, sexy sound that had him shifting restlessly. ‘You want to have breakfast now?’

‘I’m starving.’

‘You’re always starving.’

‘Their breakfast special is lentil soup, a loaf of sourdough and a big chunk of cheese.’

‘Go get ’em, Tiger. Bring me back a cup of tea,’ she muttered and hung up.

Trig grinned and shoved the sheet aside, suddenly hungry to seize the day. She hadn’t said no and she hadn’t been wary. She hadn’t said, ‘Darling, come make me yours,’ yet either, but that was pure fantasy anyway.

He got breakfast.

He went walking and found the gate where Lena would meet up with Carter and set about exploring exit options and observation points. By the time the seven a.m. prayer session sounded, he was back at the hotel and knocking on Lena’s door, takeaway tea in one hand and a tub of yoghurt and honey in the other.

‘Breakfast,’ he said when she opened the door, and she let him through and closed the door behind him and yawned.

She looked like a waif. A little too slender, a halo of tangled black hair and those startling bluish-grey eyes, smudged with black lashes. A modelling agency had offered to contract her once after seeing her on the beach. Surfing sponsors had come after her too. She’d turned down both offers with startled surprise. Couldn’t see what they’d seen in her. Didn’t want what they’d offered anyway.

‘Is this the courting you?’ she wanted to know as he set the tea and yoghurt on the table.

‘This is the impatient me,’ he said. ‘You’ve seen this me before. I’m waiting to see if you want me to court you before I start that.’

‘My mistake.’ Lena smirked and carefully removed the lid on her tea. ‘What’s got you all pepped up?’

‘You mean besides wanting to know if you’ll go out with me?’

‘Yeah, besides that. Because I’m not awake enough yet to make a definitive decision on that. I couldn’t think clearly enough to make a decision on it last night either.’

‘Red wine does that.’

‘True.’ She sipped at her tea and let out an appreciative sigh. ‘So you’re happy this morning because...’

‘You have got to see this bazaar.’

‘You’re excited about shopping?’

‘It’s not shopping, it’s haggling. It’s a blood sport.’

‘Is anything even open yet?’

‘Couple of stalls are.’

‘What did you buy?’

‘Carpet. But I haven’t bought it yet. I’ve just had it set aside so I can think about it.’

‘Uh-huh. How much?’

‘That’s what we’re negotiating.’

‘Ballpark.’

‘It’s a really nice carpet. Silk.’

‘Uh-huh.’

Seven thousand dollars was a lot to pay for a two metre by one point six metre bit of mat that people walked on. ‘It’s an investment piece.’

‘Is it magic?’

‘I didn’t ask. Maybe you should come with me when I go back.’

‘When are you going back?’

‘After I’ve shopped around.’

‘Who are you and what have you done with Trig?’

‘Could be I’m nesting,’ he said. Way to harp on a tricky subject. ‘You all the way awake yet?’

‘No.’

‘Because if you are, now would be a good time to tell me if you’re going to go out with me.’

‘Still weighing the pros and cons.’

There was just no rushing her these days. ‘I brought you breakfast. That would be a pro.’

‘You also woke me up at five a.m.’

‘You’re welcome.’

He could make her snort. That had to count for something.

‘How’s the body this morning?’