‘Apparently she came to watch me one day when I was shovelling cement on a construction site as an eighteen-year-old. She tracked my movements over the months, saw how I was trying to cope with Amy and made contact.
‘I only met her that once. She died a week later. Alone. I was robbed of knowing my grandmother. I changed my name to hers in her honour.’
‘I’m sorry, Cameron.’ She touched the tiny crease that had formed between his brows and kissed the shadows from his eyes. ‘But you have family now. Amy. Me. My parents. And, for better or worse, Veronica.’
‘Yes.’ He nodded, shook off the melancholy. ‘Speaking of for better or worse, in your family I guess it’s the big white society wedding?’
Not if Didi could help it. She smiled at him. ‘What would you prefer?’
‘The two of us and a marriage celebrant.’
She felt a grin coming on. ‘So we’ll compromise. It’ll still be the big white dress and wedding cake, but we’ll invite only our immediate family and have it here in the gazebo. How does that sound?’
He kissed her lips. ‘Perfect.’
EPILOGUE
Melbourne, two months later
‘WHERE are we?’ Didi’s hands curled over the blindfold Cameron had insisted she wear for the drive he’d promised would be short but was taking far too long.
‘Patience, Mrs Black, we’re nearly there.’
Finally the car slowed and stopped. She could barely wait until Cameron opened the door. Then he swept her up against his chest. She could feel the sun on her cheeks, hear birdsong and someone mowing their lawn, kids shouting and the rrrrch of their skateboards as they sped past.
He stopped.
‘What?’ she demanded.
‘I can’t decide where…’
‘You always were the sort to take too long to think things over. Enough.’
‘And you’re always too impatient.’
The outdoor noises faded, the warmth of the sun on her skin cooled and she knew he was taking her indoors. But where?
He stopped again, set her on her feet. ‘Ready?’
She dragged the blindfold off. And looked straight at her Temptation. ‘You said it was sold. It was sold—you gave me a very large cheque to prove it.’
‘I couldn’t bear to part with it,’ he murmured behind her. ‘What do you think—should it go here or in the bedroom?’
‘You mean…this place is…’
‘Ours,’ he said. ‘Yours and mine. It’s home.’
Home. Warmth geysered up inside her.
She spun around, taking in the room with its mish-mash of homey-looking furniture. Furniture that looked vaguely familiar. Furnishings and décor she’d commented on in the numerous House & Garden magazines Cameron had taken to reading of late.
She turned to the window overlooking a backyard and cottage garden crammed with a kaleidoscope of colours. A place to breathe, to watch the seasons come and go. ‘But we have your apartment.’
‘You once said you couldn’t bear to live in an apartment.’
‘No garden, fresh air, sky or pets. I remember. But—’
He took her hand and led her towards a closed door. ‘Come with me.’
When he opened the door Didi saw a modern kitchen with just about every modern appliance ever made. And in the corner—
‘Charlie!’ Surrounded by four mewling kittens.
‘Charlotte,’ Cameron corrected as she rushed over to fondle him…her.
‘Oh, I’ve missed you so so much.’ She stroked the silky fur, careful not to disturb the nursing babies. ‘No wonder I thought he—she—was putting on weight. I thought it was my care and attention.’
She stretched up on tiptoe to twine her arms around Cameron’s neck. ‘She’ll always be Charlie to me. Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome. We have a big backyard that’ll accommodate as many pets as you want. Within reason,’ he suggested.
She smiled up at him. ‘Five’s good. Although maybe we could get a dog some time…’ The kiss that inevitably followed was long and lingering. ‘Are you sure you want to give up apartment living?’ she said when at last he drew back.
‘I’m sure. Circumstances change. Now we need somewhere with more space—a place for you to create your masterpieces. A garden for Charlie and her brood and room to grow…’
‘Speaking of growing…’ Didi felt a naughty smile coming on as she drew him back to the living room with its plump green sofa. Naughty for twelve-thirty on a working day. But then, that was becoming something of a habit lately. She looked pointedly at her Temptation mural. ‘If we’re going to create our own little masterpiece together…we should get started.’ Pulling him down on the sofa she began undoing buttons.