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had. But unlike their wedding some things, Meg guessed, had to be taken more slowly—she couldn’t just sit up and fire a thousand questions at him. Somehow she knew it wasn’t something he would talk about easily, but she tried. ‘What was it like, though?’ Meg asked. ‘Growing up in an orphanage?’

      ‘There were many orphanages,’ he said. ‘I was moved around a lot.’ Perhaps he realised he wasn’t answering her question, because he added, ‘I don’t know, really. I try not to think about it.’

      ‘But …’

      He halted her. ‘We’re married Meg. But that doesn’t mean we need every piece of each other. Let’s just enjoy what we have, huh?’

      So if he didn’t want to talk about himself she’d start with the easier stuff instead. ‘You live in São Paulo?’

      ‘I have an apartment there,’ Niklas said. ‘If I am working in Europe I tend to stay at my house in Villefranche-sur-Mer. And now I guess I’ll have to look for somewhere in Sydney …’ His smile was wicked. ‘If your father gets really cross, maybe I can ask if he knows any good houses—if he would be able to help …’

      Meg started to laugh, because it sounded as if he did understand where she was coming from. Niklas was right—a nice big commission would certainly go a long way towards appeasing her father. She realised that the shock would wear off eventually, and that her rather shallow parents would be delighted to find somewhere for their rich new son-in-law to live.

      As Meg lay there, and the sun started to work its way through the chink in the curtains, she started to realise that this was the happiest she had been in her life. But even with that knowledge there was one part about last night that had been unjustifiably reckless.

      ‘I’ll go on the pill …’ she said. ‘If it isn’t already too late.’

      He had said this wasn’t for ever, and the wedding ring that had seemed a solution yesterday was less than one now.

      ‘If last night brings far-reaching consequences you will both be taken care of.’

      ‘For a while?’

      He looked over and knew that, unlike most women, Meg wasn’t talking about money. But his bank account was the only thing not tainted by his past.

      ‘For a while,’ Niklas said. ‘I promise you—we’ll be arguing within weeks, we’ll be driving each other insane—and not with lust …’ He smiled in all the wrong places, but he made her smile back. ‘You’ll be glad to see the back of me.’

      She doubted it.

      ‘I’m hard work,’ he warned.

      But worth it.

      Though she was going on the pill.

      And then he looked over to her again, and for as long as it was like this she could adore him.

      ‘I am going to write to the airline tomorrow and thank them for not having a first-class seat,’ he said.

      ‘I might write and thank them too.’

      ‘It will be okay,’ he told her. ‘Soon I will ring Carla and I will have her re-schedule things. Then we will meet with your parents and I will tell them.’ He grinned at her horrified expression.

      ‘I’ll speak to my parents.’

      ‘No,’ Niklas said. ‘Because you will start apologising and doubting and I am a better negotiator.’

      ‘Negotiator?’

      ‘How long do you want off for our honeymoon?’ Niklas said. ‘Of course you will want to give them notice—you don’t want to just walk out—but for now we should have some time together. Maybe I’ll take you to the mountains …’ There was no gap between them now, so he pulled her across. ‘And I will also tell them that we will have a big wedding in a few weeks.’

      ‘I’m happy with the wedding we had.’

      ‘Don’t you want a big one?’

      Her hand slid down beneath the sheet and she loved it that he laughed, not understanding that laughter was actually rare for him. Then her mouth followed her hands, and he lay there as she inexpertly woke another part of him.

      ‘Don’t you want a proper wedding, with family and dancing?’

      ‘I hate dancing …’ She kissed all the way down his length and she felt his hand in her hair, gently lifting her to where he wanted more attention.

      ‘I do too.’

      ‘I thought all Brazilians could dance?’

      ‘Stop talking,’ Niklas said. ‘And I never said I couldn’t. I just don’t.’

      She looked up at the most stunning, complicated man who had ever graced her vision and thought of his prowess and the movement of his body. All of it had been for her, and she shivered at the thought of the days and nights to come, of getting to know more and more of him. Already she knew that she was starting to want for ever, but that wasn’t what this was about.

      And then she tasted him again.

      His hands moved her head as he promised she would not hurt him and told her exactly what to do with her mouth. She was lost in his scent, the feel of him in her mouth, and the shock of his rapid come was a most pleasant surprise. It was a surprise for Niklas too, but this was how she moved him.

      He did not want to get out of bed—did not want to get back to the world. Except no doubt it was screaming for him by now—he had never had his phone turned off for so long.

      He climbed out of bed and she lay there, just staring at the ceiling, lost in thoughts of him and the time they would take to get to know the other properly.

      And Niklas was thinking the same. He had been looking forward to some time off, had been aware that he needed some, now he could not wait to take it.

      He showered quickly and considered shaving, and then he picked up his phone, impatient to speak to Carla, to change his plans yet again. He grimaced when he saw how many missed calls he’d had, how many texts, and then he frowned—because there were hundreds. From Carla, from Miguel, from just about everyone he knew …

      It was his first inkling that something was wrong.

      Niklas had no family, and the only person he had ever really cared about was in bed in the next room, so he didn’t have any flare of panic, but there was clearly a problem. Problems he was used to, and was very good at sorting them out.

      It just might take a little time, that was all, when really he would far rather be heading back to bed. He dialled Carla’s number, wondering if he should tell Meg to order some breakfast. He would just as soon as he made this call.

      She could hear him in the lounge, speaking in his own language into his phone. She lay there for ages, twisting her new ring around her finger. Then, as he still spoke on the phone, she realised she wasn’t actually terrified at the prospect of telling her parents, and even if this wasn’t the most conventional of marriages, even if he had warned her it would end some day, she was completely at peace with what had occurred.

      The only thing she was right now, Meg realised, was starving.

      ‘I’m going to ring for breakfast,’ she said as he walked back into the room, and then she looked over and frowned, because even though he had been gone ages she was surprised to see that he was dressed.

      ‘I have to return to Brazil.’

      ‘Oh.’ She sat up in the bed. ‘Now?’

      ‘Now.’

      He was not looking at her, Meg realised. What she did not realise was that precisely two seconds from now he was going to break her heart.

      ‘We made a mistake.’

      As easily as that he did it.

      ‘Sorry?’

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