Hidden Mistress, Public Wife(45)

Champagne. Ivy felt as though she had imbibed a whole bottle of it already. Her head was fizzing from the sheer rush of Jordan’s proposals … marriage, children, introduction to his family and friends … all unimaginable an hour ago. He had suddenly presented her with a dream life and it didn’t feel quite real. Maybe they could make it real. Certainly he was brimming over with confidence, pouring out his vision of their future together as they walked up to the house.

The weird part was she had been about to walk out of his life because he had avoided making a public show of their relationship, and now she felt frightened of what that show might entail. Jordan was probably the most eligible bachelor in Australia. Another girlfriend was not big news, but the notorious billionaire playboy getting married would instantly beam a spotlight on the fiancée whom no one knew anything about. How was she going to handle it? This was a huge leap from her normal, quiet life.

She tried to calm her wildly skittering heart by telling herself Jordan would be at her side. He was used to handling everything, master of any situation. And being with the man she loved … wasn’t that what she most wanted? Nothing else should really matter.

It suddenly struck her that Jordan hadn’t spoken of loving her.

But he must.

Why ask her to marry him if he didn’t?

Besides, she hadn’t said it, either.

It didn’t really need to be put into words.

She followed him into the kitchen where he set the tray on the island bench and whipped the bottle of wine out of the ice bucket, brandishing it at Margaret who looked relieved to see them together. ‘This is not good enough for us tonight,’ he said with a happy grin. ‘Congratulations are in order, Margaret. Ivy has just agreed to marry me.’

Her mouth dropped open in surprise. She goggled at Jordan for a moment, then looked at Ivy as though wondering if she’d heard right.

‘It’s true,’ Ivy said with a wry little smile, thinking they were probably going to get this reaction from everyone. After all, she hadn’t expected it herself.

‘Oh!’ Margaret cried, suddenly clapping her hands in delight. ‘You’ve made a wonderful choice, Jordan! You’re the best, Ivy. The very best.’

‘Glad to have your approval,’ Jordan rolled out, clearly riding a high. ‘You have an hour to whip us up a splendid dinner. I’ll take this tray of titbits, minus the wine, into the lounge room and get a bottle of champagne from the bar there. Ivy and I have some calls to make.’

Margaret ignored him, walking over to Ivy, taking her hands and pressing them with pleasure. ‘I’ll do everything I can to see that you’re happy here, my dear.’

The kind acceptance and welcome from Jordan’s housekeeper brought a lump of emotional gratitude to Ivy’s throat. She could only manage a husky, ‘Thank you.’

‘Go on now. You’ll be fine,’ Margaret assured her.

The housekeeper’s confidence in her settled some of Ivy’s nerves, but the sense of being on a roller-coaster ride persisted, especially as she listened to Jordan’s side of his conversation with his mother.

He’d poured them glasses of champagne, made a toast to a happy future together, saw her seated on a sofa, and was walking around the room as he talked, giving out a crackling energy that was not about to be dampened by anything.

‘Mum, I need you to do me a favour. I’ve just asked Ivy Thornton to marry me. She’s said yes. And I want you to throw us an engagement party this coming Saturday night.’

His vivid blue eyes sparkled wickedly as he listened to what was undoubtedly a tirade of disbelief at the other end of the line. ‘Mum, I’m thirty-six years old and in full possession of all my faculties. I do not need your stamp of approval on my bride-to-be.’ He grinned at Ivy. ‘I love everything about her, and you will, too. That’s all you have to know.’

Love …

Her love for him poured into a smile that beamed with happiness. It was okay to marry him. As long as they loved each other, they could make it work.

‘No, I don’t want to wait. We’re buying the ring tomorrow and we’re flying off to Europe next week. I know it’s short notice but I’m sure you and your personal assistant can make it happen. Get Olivia to help with the guest list. She owes me big-time.’

He grimaced at whatever his mother said next. Then his face set in a look of ruthless determination. ‘No. No meeting beforehand. I won’t have Ivy subjected to any uneasiness caused by you or Olivia, who did her worst today. We’ll turn up on Saturday night and I expect both of you to be very warm and welcoming. As you should be.’