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‘What do you mean?’

‘We get married, then what?’

‘I don’t know.’

She rolled her eyes, reaching for her shorts. ‘That’s not helpful.’

‘I’m not going to stand here and lie to you. How’s that for helpful?’

She pulled her shorts up, then fixed him with a cool stare.

‘I’m not going to pretend I have all the answers. This thing is a massive curveball for both of us.’

She dipped her head in silent agreement.

‘What I have promised you—and I mean it—is that I will look after you. I will do everything I can to make sure you’re happy, in a way my father never did for my mother, or stepmother, or for Willa’s mother. I want our child to look at us and think we did the best thing—for him or her, but also each other. I have no idea exactly what that looks like, but I’ll tell you this, Sarah. I have no intention of failing.’ Determination was like steel in his voice, ironbark all over again. ‘There’s way too much at stake here to give up before we even try.’

CHAPTER NINE

BUT HOW COULD she try, when she knew the risks? How could she keep him emotionally at arm’s length, when he was determined to be so goddamned reasonable and decent, as well as the sexiest man she’d ever known in the flesh? That feeling was creeping through her again, of seeing him as a man, a man she liked and wanted to know better, no matter how hard she kept tamping it down.

She was far hotter than she should have been, given that it was late in the evening, and she was submerged up to her neck in the stunning swimming pool at the back of his house. A sigh of frustration slipped from her lips as she pushed towards the edge of the pool and wrapped her fingers around the coping. That, she realised, was one of the problems.

This was his house. His family home. As was the property. And while he wanted them to marry and live together, and was adamant that he would look after her, she would always be a guest here. It wasn’t hers.

Not like the little cottage she and her mother had shared on the outskirts of London. While it hadn’t been anywhere nearly as grand as this big, sprawling heritage house, it was home. A nest, of sorts. A place to grow and change, to be safe.

It might seem trivial, but it was just one example of why the marriage felt wrong. She didn’t want to live her life feeling like an outsider—as though she couldn’t paint a wall without asking permission.

And what about sex? Her brain pushed. It was obvious they had a fierce, mutual attraction, but that wouldn’t last for ever, and then what? He’d made some comment, the other day, about living the life of a monk, but had he really meant it? Would he honour their wedding vows, even if they weren’t sleeping together? And why did that matter so much to her?

She pursed her lips, turning to face the house and startling to find Tate standing there, his eyes latched to the trees at the back of the pool. She could just make him out in the warm glow cast by the lights that surrounded the swimming area.

‘You finally got your swim,’ he said, moving towards the path, then through the pool gate. Her heart leaped into her throat, and all she could do was nod.

‘Dinner’s ready, when you are.’

‘Oh.’ She hadn’t thought they’d be eating together. Things had been decidedly awkward between them since that afternoon. He’d landed the helicopter and driven her back up to the house, but hadn’t got out of the car himself. She’d watched as he’d driven off without a backwards glance, a growing sense of impatience bursting through her. She’d replayed their conversation over and over, and then, when she couldn’t help it, remembered what it had been like to make love to him like that, in the Outback of Australia, so completely surrendered to wildness and sensuality that her pulse had started to race even when she really wished it hadn’t.

‘Not hungry?’

The words were laced with something that made her heart rate kick up a gear. She shook her head slowly, eyes glued to his face. In the darkness of evening, the autocratic lines were stark, the light and shade somehow making him seem larger than life. Even more elemental than usual.

‘You looked deep in thought.’

She thought about denying it, but what would that have accomplished? She’d made him a pledge: that she would come to a decision about their marriage, and soon, and in order to do that, she needed more information. They needed to have a proper conversation, without it devolving into either an argument or something far more pleasurable—but equally unhelpful.

‘I’m working out what to do,’ she admitted.

‘And how’s it going?’

She swam across the pool, to the edge closer to him, and rested her arms along the coping.

‘I know you want a fast answer,’ she murmured. ‘And I get that. It’s just not easy. Perhaps if I explain some of my concerns, you can either reassure me, or admit that it’s not as straightforward as you’re making out.’

His expression was cautious, but he nodded once, kicking off his shoes and coming to sit on the edge of the pool, just a little to the left of her. So close she could reach out and touch one of his hair-roughened legs, the strength of his muscles a thing of beauty.

She blinked away quickly.