Not a Marrying Man

‘But I want you with me. I need your advice on what I should do with Aunt Kate’s place. Besides, I don’t much like driving your car.’

‘What? You don’t like driving a Ferrari? Are you insane?’

‘I don’t like speed the way you do. Promise me you won’t go fast when we get on the expressway. There’s no reason to. We have all the time in the world.’

Warwick almost laughed. All the time in the world was something he certainly did not have. Which meant he didn’t want to spend what precious time he did have with her at Wamberal where she was sure to get weepy over her aunt all over again. Next thing he knew, she’d want to keep the damned place. Maybe even go up there on weekends.

She wanted his advice? Warwick already knew what that advice would be. Put the property in the hands of a good real estate agent to sell, then come back to Sydney with him. He’d already decided he couldn’t be without her just yet. Last night had shown him that. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her. But maybe soon he’d find the strength to end things. Until then, however, he aimed to keep things exactly as they were, with her by his side, and in his bed.

‘I’ll wait for you in the car,’ he said when they finally arrived at her parents’ home in Carlingford just before midday. ‘Got a few things to attend to.’ And he picked up his BlackBerry.

Amber didn’t argue with him. Quite frankly, the last thing she wanted was him by her side when her mother answered the door. She climbed out of the car and hurried up the steep front path to the equally steep front steps. Running up them, she reached the front porch and was about to ring the bell when the door was wrenched open and her mother stood there, looking very annoyed.

‘I’d almost given up on you coming,’ she said sourly.

‘But I rang you from the car to say I’d be here.’

‘I don’t know why you had to leave it to the last minute,’ her mother snapped. ‘It’s not as though you work.’

Amber could think of nothing to say to that. It was true, after all.

‘I’m sorry, Mum,’ she heard herself apologising the way she’d been doing all her life. ‘We had a late night and we … er … slept in. If you’ll just give me the keys I’ll be on my way.’

Doreen sniffed her distaste as she swung away and picked up two sets of keys from the nearby hall table. ‘Here they are,’ she said, and handed them over. ‘The second set belongs to Kate’s car. That’s yours too, it seems.’

‘Really?’ Amber could not help feeling pleased at this news. She’d only ever owned one car, a rust-bucket she’d bought when she’d been eighteen and had taken a second job as a waitress and needed wheels to get to and from work at night. Naturally, her parents had refused to let her use either of their vehicles. Neither had they offered to subsidise the purchase of one for her as they had with the boys.