‘A waste,’ she said blankly.

‘Well, it would.’ He held out a placating hand to the undertaker. ‘Five more minutes.’ Then back to Peta. ‘You see, the lawyers are of the opinion that if you married me and got on the plane tomorrow and I stayed here, then Charles could argue that the marriage was a farce.’

‘So what are you saying?’ Her eyes widened. ‘Are you saying we have to consummate the marriage?’

The undertaker gave a start. The little man choked, met Marcus’s eye and carefully backed out of the door. A little. Not out of earshot.

Marcus grinned. ‘No, we don’t have to consummate the marriage.’

‘Well, that’s a relief.’

‘I thought you might say that.’

She smiled. It was a weak sort of smile but it was a smile for all that. It was the first time she’d smiled that day and it felt okay. More. It felt good.

She was so grateful to this man, she realised. Even if his crazy plan didn’t come to fruition-as it surely couldn’t-his presence over these two days had lightened her load immeasurably.

He’d made her smile. He’d made her feel as if somebody cared.

She forced herself to focus on practicalities. Somehow.

‘So we don’t consummate the marriage. What do we do?’

‘Ruby says we need a honeymoon,’ he told her. ‘It seems, legally, we need to spend some time together if we’re to be seen as truly married. I’ve just finished stitching together a deal which has taken nearly three years to pull off. Ruby tells me I haven’t taken a holiday in ten years and I guess she’s right. She’s just read me the riot act and told me that if I don’t take some time off I’ll drop dead from overwork. Anyway…’ He gave a grin that was half amused, half embarrassed. ‘Anyway, if you’d like a honeymoon… If you’d like…I could come back to Australia with you for a couple of weeks.’

She stared at him. Stunned. ‘You’re kidding.’

‘I never kid.’

‘You want to come home with me?’

He grinned again. ‘There’s no need to say it like I’m a stray dog.’

‘I don’t want you.’

‘There’s gratitude.’

She tried taking a breath. It didn’t quite come off. ‘I’m sorry.’ She shook her head. ‘No. I’m not sorry. I don’t want a husband.’

‘That’s good, because I don’t want a wife.’ He shrugged, still smiling. ‘But Ruby says I offered and I ought to go through with it. I’ve never been to Australia.’

‘This is crazy. You can’t just take two weeks off-for a stranger.’

‘I can-for a holiday.’

‘You mean… You’d go off on a tour or something?’

‘Ruby says I’d need to stay at your farm.’

‘Do you want to stay at my farm?’

‘No.’

‘Then…’

‘But I’m prepared to.’

She shook her head. ‘Marcus, I don’t think I can cope with that level of obligation.’

‘I can understand that. But maybe-if you want the farm badly enough, you need to swallow your pride and accept my help. Accept that I can afford to give it and accept that I’ll ask nothing in return.’ He smiled. ‘Except a small glow of virtue which I promise I’ll keep under my smug little hat.’ He caught her hands and held them, and he looked down at her, his gaze strong and sure. Compelling. ‘Are you strong enough to accept this? Taking’s hard, Peta. I know that. But-maybe you have no choice.’

His smile faded. He might be as confused as she was but he didn’t seem to be showing it. His gaze said trust me. His gaze told her he knew the direction she should take; she just had to let him take the lead. Do what he said.

To let a stranger help her in such a way… It seemed crazy. Impossible. But his eyes said trust me. His eyes said let me take the lead.

And for Peta, who’d never had anyone take the lead in her life, the concept was suddenly almost overpoweringly appealing.

‘No strings?’

‘No strings.’

‘I’ll knit you a pair of socks for Christmas.’

‘That would be very nice,’ he told her and she choked.

‘You haven’t seen my knitting.’

‘But you’ll accept?’

‘I don’t have a choice,’ she said simply. ‘I’m very grateful. I hate that I need to be grateful, so I guess… You’re just going to have to get used to my socks!’


He ushered her next door to a coffee shop, he ordered pastries and coffee and she didn’t argue. She even ate something.

They ate in silence. She was achingly aware that he was watching her-that she was being somehow measured-but there was nothing she could do about it.

She wasn’t even sure that she minded.

‘What happened to your parents?’ he asked at last, and Peta felt her insides twist. It was as if this man could really read her mind. The sensation was incredibly unnerving.

‘My mother died having Harry,’ she told him. ‘Eclampsia. My father was killed when his tractor rolled ten years ago.’

‘And you’ve been it ever since.’

‘It?’

‘Provider.’

‘There was Hattie,’ she told him.

‘So Hattie looked after you?’

‘I was sixteen.’

‘So Hattie didn’t look after you?’

‘I was strong. I could run the farm. I loved Hattie and I couldn’t have coped without her, but she had crippling arthritis.’

‘So let me get this straight,’ he said, obviously thinking it through. ‘You were sixteen when you were left on a farm with four other children. The oldest was how old?’

‘Daniel was eleven.’

‘And your cousin? Charles?’

‘He’s a lot older than me. He left before my father died. Hattie sent her share of the farm profits to him, and we only saw him when he wanted more money.’ She bit her lip. ‘She didn’t know… Hattie didn’t understand how successful Charles was. He kept needing more.’

But Marcus wasn’t interested in how successful Charles was. He was focused on Peta. ‘So you’d have been sixteen. You were still at school?’

‘It didn’t hurt me to leave. I loved farming.’

‘You mean you had to leave.’

‘Yes,’ she admitted honestly. ‘I had to.’

‘And what about now?’

‘I run a really successful farm.’

‘Do the boys help?’

‘Of course they do. Only Daniel and Christopher are at university now and William is at a special school in the city.’ She smiled, thinking of her high-achieving brothers. ‘Daniel will be a vet and Christopher is in first year law. And William is brilliant. He won a scholarship to a special school for gifted kids.’

‘But-you support them all?’ He sounded appalled and she shook her head.

‘No. They all help. During the holidays.’

‘But the rest of the time there’s just you?’

‘And Harry.’ Her smile widened, thinking with real affection of the baby of the family. ‘Harry’s great. You’ll love…’ She caught herself and changed the tense. ‘You’d like Harry.’

‘When I meet him.’

‘There’s no need for you to meet him.’

‘There’s every need,’ he said brusquely. ‘I thought I explained it to you. Where’s Harry now?’

‘Stowing away in Daniel’s university college.’ She hesitated. ‘He was unhappy about me being away. He’s only twelve. So we thought that if he could stay with the boys he’d be happier. The kids are great. They’re looking after him. But I need to get back.’

‘I can see that you do.’ He was staring at her as if she’d grown two heads. ‘You carry all this load on your shoulders…’

‘Hey, they’re my family,’ she said, not liking his tone of absolute astonishment. ‘What would you do?’

What would he do? They stared at each other and she thought that he really didn’t have a clue. He knew nothing of what she had. Of the benefits as well as the responsibilities.

He’d turn away, she thought. He’d run. What man would willingly come within a thousand miles of the sort of responsibility she carried?

But he didn’t turn away. Instead, he glanced across her shoulder and smiled and she turned to the coffee shop window to see Ruby waving from the pavement.

‘What will I do?’ Marcus asked, his voice suddenly almost teasing. Almost laughing. He waved back to Ruby, beckoning her in. ‘I’ll tell you what to do. I’ll hand you over to Ruby to turn you into a bride. I have a deal to stitch up and then I’m free. I’ll marry you and carry you back to Australia. For two weeks. On two conditions.’

‘What are they?’

‘That you don’t make me milk a cow! And you don’t put me in charge of a twelve-year-old.’


If Marcus was forceful, Ruby was worse. She shooed Marcus back to work and outlined her plans. Which left Peta stunned. Ruby had a vision of a white wedding and nothing was going to deflect her-and the wedding was scheduled in four hours’ time.

‘I can get married in what I’m wearing,’ Peta said, totally confounded, but Ruby would have none of it.

‘Marcus Benson has half the women of the world wanting to marry him-and you’re going to wear a day dress?’ Ruby smiled, somehow managing to rob her words of offence. ‘Peta, he’s doing you a favour. The least you can do is accept in the manner it’s intended.’

It sounded reasonable-sort of. There was only one thing for it, Peta decided. She needed to swallow her pride. ‘I’m broke,’ she confessed.

Ruby hesitated, but only for a moment. ‘Yeah. You are. But Mr Benson has given me a fat cheque to outfit you for the wedding. He told me to do it subtly but I don’t know how. Except by telling you that you’d be doing all of us a favour by accepting.’

A fat cheque. Peta drew in her breath. ‘I thought I told him-’

‘Yeah, you told him. He said yesterday that he’d offended you. He said he tried to dress you as a socialite and you tossed it back in his face.’

‘I didn’t…’

‘Well, I would have, too,’ Ruby said honestly-unexpectedly. ‘And I think more of you for doing it. But throwing back corporate suits and refusing wedding gowns are different things.’

‘He’s not… I don’t see…’

‘You are marrying him,’ Ruby said gently. ‘You know you are. And you needn’t feel guilty that you’re doing so. There’s no way Marcus will marry anyone else.’