An Unexpected Proposal. Amy Andrews

balanced on the broad arm. His eyes drifted to the steady rise and fall of her chest. She wore a jade-green T-shirt with a rounded neckline that clung to her female form.

      The temperature outside suddenly got a lot hotter. Marcus felt his mouth go dry as the heat started to suffocate him. God! She was beautiful. He felt his groin stir and tighten. He sat at the table and watched her as she slept. This time he wasn’t going to wake her, not when just looking at her gave him pleasure. He had no idea who the man was that Maddy had committed herself to but he was one lucky guy.

      Madeline frowned slightly as an image of Marcus floated in front of her. His bare chest and dimples mocked her. She awoke with a start, disorientated, her subconscious trying to drag her back into the lingering folds of her dream.

      Her unfocussed gaze came to rest on Marcus. He was staring at her and she frowned. The fog shrouding her brain, intensified by her out-of-sync body clock, couldn’t compute the image in front of her. Was she still dreaming? Had she only dreamt that she’d woken up? Or was she dreaming that she was awake?

      Marcus waited for the confusion to clear from her gaze. She was looking at him like he was an alien. Which was fine by him because when she finally did realise who he was she was going to be as mad as hell.

      Madeline blinked rapidly a few times and rubbed her eyes. Yep—she was definitely awake. And Marcus was definitely sitting at the table, drinking a beer. Looking at her.

      ‘Maddy.’ He nodded. ‘Long time, no see.’

      Madeline felt vulnerable in her reclining position and struggled out of the chair. ‘Madeline,’she grouched, annoyed that he’d showed up. ‘The name is Madeline!’

      ‘Do you need a hand?’ he asked, amused at her attempts to get out of the chair.

      She ignored him, finally rising to her feet and walking down to the far corner of the deck, wineglass in hand. He was dressed as he’d been at the hospital. His comment about seeing her sooner than she thought flashed back.

      ‘You knew! You knew at the hospital you were coming here,’ she accused.

      ‘Mary invited me this morning. It seems she’s rather keen for us to meet. Besides…I never refuse a home-cooked meal.’

      Madeline was just about to retaliate when Mary came out to join them. ‘Everything OK?’ she asked.

      Madeline could see Mary looking at the distance between the two of them and the little frown drawing her eyebrows together.

      ‘Great,’ said Madeline, and smiled enthusiastically.

      ‘Marcus…’ Mary wagged her finger at him ‘…you never said you and Madeline had already met.’

      Madeline stared incredulously at sensible, level-headed Mary. She was practically flirting with the younger man, her cheeks a delicate pink.

      ‘I confess.’ He dazzled a brilliant smile in Mary’s direction.

      So it wasn’t just her he had an effect on? Madeline suppressed the sudden urge to scream. ‘Where’s George?’ she asked instead.

      ‘Here I am,’ he said, joining them, giving his wife a hug from behind. ‘Let’s eat!’

      Mary was an excellent cook and Madeline was sure it tasted divine, but she found herself having to force down each mouthful. She was acutely conscious of Marcus and his witty chat. She could barely string two words together, which added to her irritation.

      ‘So, Marcus,’ Mary said, ‘tell us a bit about yourself.’

      Marcus told them a lot about his earlier life growing up in Melbourne and Madeline was interested despite telling herself she didn’t care.

      ‘I’m surprised a nice young man like you hasn’t been snapped up with a couple of kids by now,’ Mary pressed.

      He laughed. ‘Can you call thirty-five young?’ he asked.

      George snorted. ‘You can when you’re sixty.’

      Madeline was just thinking how smoothly Marcus had avoided that question when she saw his smiling face grow serious.

      ‘Actually, I was married once, a long time ago.’

      Madeline stopped eating. His cryptic comments in the car the previous night now made some sense.

      ‘Too young?’ asked Mary.

      ‘Something like that,’ he said dismissively with a quick shrug of his shoulders.

      ‘Do you still see her?’ Mary asked.

      ‘From time to time,’ he said noncommittally, thinking about how stupid he and Tabitha had been the last time they’d caught up.

      They ate a little more without speaking and then Mary said, ‘Have you had much of a chance to do any sightseeing, Marcus?’

      ‘Not really,’ he admitted. ‘I’ve been so busy since I arrived, setting up the practice, I haven’t really been anywhere. I’ve found South Bank, I swim there most afternoons. Oh, and the local skate park.’

      Yes, indeed he had, thought Madeline as she pushed her food around her plate. She thought back to when she had first seen him—had it only been yesterday?—shirtless, riding the concrete curves. His six-pack abs and his perfectly muscled quads returned in full Technicolor detail. If only she’d known then, sitting in her car at roadworks, that in less than twenty-four hours she’d actually be acquainted with skater boy, she might just have turned around and flown back to the UK.

      She became aware that the other occupants of the table were staring at her expectantly. She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry…what did you say?’

      ‘I was just telling Marcus what a wonderful tour guide you are. You won’t mind showing him some of the local sights on your day off tomorrow, will you?’ Mary said.

      Madeline blinked at her. Of course she minded! Was Mary not listening when she’d told her about the eviction threats? Was she insane? She groped around desperately for a way to wriggle out of it.