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  Jason would be better. He had to be. And maybe, if she asked carefully, he'd be willing to help her learn to be better...but only if she could satisfy him tonight.

  Open legs, closed eyes: please, let her satisfy him tonight.

  "Wow, baby, if I'd known you were that eager, I'd have come faster. I figured we'd take our time, but I'm not going to argue."

  Phuong cracked one eye open. Jason stood in the doorway, unbuttoning his shirt as he surveyed her body. He didn't frown or look disgusted – that was a start.

  "Hurry," she begged, feeling her self-control slipping. Her heart galloped in her chest and her breathing quickened. She'd scream, she'd run and hide and never, ever come back. She didn't want to do this, didn't want, didn't want, didn't...

  "Sure, baby."

  Phuong felt the mattress sink under his weight. His lips lightly brushed hers as his hand skimmed down her throat, her chest, her belly and down her leg, then crept up her inner thigh. Her breath caught in her throat as he pierced her with one thick finger.

  "You're not ready for me, baby." The finger withdrew.

  "Yes, I am!" she insisted, clenching her hands into fists. "Now, take me now!" Or never.

  Jason sighed. "You're lying. You don't want me at all. You're not even wet, baby." The bed shifted as he moved away from her. "I only sleep with willing girls, Phuong. I thought today in the church that I was wrong, that maybe you were...I mean, you married me, for fuck's sake! Wishful thinking, I guess." He sighed again. "Well, good night." A moment later, she heard the sound of a door closing.

  What? Phuong jumped up, scissoring her legs shut and dragging the bedspread with her. Jason was gone – into his bedroom, behind a closed door. He'd rejected her utterly.

  Norman was right: she was useless.

  And now Jason knew it, too.

  FORTY-SIX

  So much for the fucking honeymoon. It had been a week. Phuong still wouldn't meet his eyes. He'd tried a thousand times to talk to her, but the words died before they left his mouth. He'd slept with heaps of girls before her, but every single damn one was willing. If they said no, fine. Plenty more where they came from. Even the ones who said no and meant yes...usually he left those alone, too. Audra had been the exception and look where that had gotten him.

  But what the fuck did you do with a girl whose body and soul screamed NO while her lips lied and begged for something she didn't want?

  Stay the fuck away, was his first thought. He didn't need crazy girls in his life. Crazy fangirls, yes, but not in his bed or his house.

  But she was his wife. What did you do when your wife didn't want you and all she did was lie to you?

  Divorce, like his parents had? Fuck that. His mum should never have married his dad, and she'd never wanted him, so he and his dad had been better off alone. Leslie wasn't even Mum in his mind; never had been. But then Dad had met Jo's mum and didn't her bastard of a boyfriend just beat all...so they married. Miriam became Mum, and Jo got to share his dad, too. Happy endings. That's what life was about. Not this fucked-up shit.

  He glanced at the stranger in his kitchen: Phuong with her downcast eyes, shoulders hunched like she was warding off a blow. As if he'd hit her or do anything to hurt her.

  The urge rose up again. That one, where he wanted to take her in his arms and protect her, but he couldn't. He had to protect her from herself, which meant him, too. Or she'd beg him for sex like she had on their wedding night, when she wanted nothing of the sort.

  What kind of girl did that?

  "What are you doing today?" he fired off.

  She shuddered as if his words had actually hit her. "I don't know." That colourless tone squeezed his heart. "Maybe when I'm finished here, I'll clean the bathroom again. I found some bleach under the sink that might get that rust out of the grout in the shower."

  She'd...what?

  "Why would you want to clean the bathroom? That's the maid's job, not yours." Jason stared at her and realised what she was doing. "Why are you washing dishes? We have a dishwasher!"

  "I tried to cook something last night, but I burned it and now it's stuck to the pan. I don't know if the dishwasher can get it off, but I've been scrubbing it for half an hour now and, look, it's coming clean." She held out the dripping casserole dish like an offering to a vengeful deity.

  What kind of girl...

  "Phuong, don't clean stuff. And you don't need to cook – whatever you want, just order it from Catering. The chefs will make it for you. They'll deliver it to your door. You live in a resort in paradise with staff. Do what you want to do. Go to the gym, book a session with the personal trainer, play a round of pool or tennis or volleyball. Get a book from the library and read it on the beach. Go for a walk on one of the beaches that you'll have all to yourself. Swim in the lagoon and meet the fish. Go catch a fish and get the chefs to prepare it for you however you like. Do something that makes you happy. What do you want to do?"

  She swallowed painfully. "Maybe...I could go to the resort library and see if I can borrow a book." She made it sound like a visit to the dreaded dentist.

  He nodded. "You do that." And he'd avoid the library so he wouldn't have to see her and know how badly he'd fucked up. A happy wife? Try a miserable one. So much for being a rock star that every woman wanted. Now his own wife hated him.

  The phone shrilled, dragging him out of his depressing thoughts. "Yeah?" he answered.

  "Normal people say hello. Hello, Jason," Jo snapped.

  "Hi, sis." Jo understood women. She was one, after all. Maybe she could help. Jason glanced at Phuong and headed out the door so he could talk in private. "How's the corporate world this week?"

  He half-listened to her drone on about quarterly reports, EBITDA and some bloke named Bas until he reached the end of the jetty, when he interrupted with, "Jo? What should I do when a girl acts like she's not that into me, but she lies about stuff and when we kissed, it was all fireworks and shit, and I'd give anything to be able to protect her, but now..."

  "Are you talking about Angel? If this is about Angel, you stay the hell away from her, Jason. I mean it. After what you did to her, she has every right to be angry. If I were her, I'd have kicked your arse into next week with steel-capped boots."

  "No! This isn't about her at all. I just..." Fucked up again. "What do you do to get, you know, in the mood?"

  "Jason, tell me you didn't just ask me about my foreplay preferences. You're my brother. You absolutely do NOT need to know that."

  Fine. Foreplay. He could Google that shit. "What are you calling for, anyway?"

  Jo made an impatient noise. "The new business plan for the resort. After Meier, your new manager is amazing. The plans she has for the place. Most of the things she wants to change won't require much capital, though she will need a few extra FTE, but in the high season, I think you might be able to manage with short-term contracts. But the projections..."

  "What the fuck are you on about?" Jason growled. "What business plan?"

  "Haven't you been reading your emails? She sent it a week ago."

  When he fucked up with Phuong. "I've been busy."

  "Whatever her name is, pull your bits out of her and put your business pants on. This is important. It's about the future of your business. Our business, in case I need to remind you. Now, Xan's arranged a meeting for Monday to discuss the half-yearly reports and the new plan. I want you to be there. No excuses. And read the damn plan in the meantime!" She ended the call without another word.

  Jason contemplated calling her back. Next, he considered throwing the fucking phone into the ocean because there was no one he could call to fix this. Adding insult to injury, the hotel's new manager, his fucking employee, was going to make changes to his resort without his permission. Well, fuck that. He might not be able to fix his marriage, but his manager? Time to put that bitch in her place.

  He marched up to the main building, taking the public path this time because he wanted her to see him coming. She'd closed her office d
oor, but that wouldn't keep him out. Jason wrenched it open and stormed in, only to find her office empty.

  "Where's the manager?" he demanded of the bloke at the reception desk.

  "It's her day off, so I dunno. Have you tried her house?"

  Living on an island was awesome. He thanked the bloke and strode through the staff accommodation to the manager's house. No rum on her veranda this time. Just a hot chick in a bikini, who...fuck.

  "Is the honeymoon over, then?" Xan asked, adjusting her bikini top. "I wondered how long it'd take before you became bored with that sweet girl." She glanced at his groin. "Oh, no. No. That's wrong on all sorts of levels. You don't cheat on your wife on your honeymoon. Even that's low for you. Or is she just not doing it for you?"

  "My wife is none of your fucking business." Jason tried to hide his hard-on behind his hands, hoping it would go away. He didn't like this woman, let alone want to touch her. "Put some clothes on, will you? I came to talk business. About the meeting on Monday. How come the first I hear about your business plan is a phone call from my sister?"

  Xan shrugged. "I emailed it to you both at the same time. I didn't expect you to look at it before Monday, when I can talk you through it. I'm not about to explain it to you now. Honestly, I didn't plan on discussing it for another week at least, but Jo called yesterday. She's so eager to start on some of it that I agreed to move the meeting up to Monday. We can discuss it then, but not today. It's my day off. I'm going to explore the lagoon. You're on your honeymoon. You should be playing hide the sausage with your wife. She'll probably enjoy the respite on Monday, or are you going to slip off during a coffee break for a quickie?"

  Jason's heart sank like a stone. "Did you tell Jo about my wife?"

  "Of course not. Why on Earth would we talk about you?"

  If Jo knew how badly he'd messed up his marriage, he'd never hear the end of it. "You can't tell her. Not now, and not on Monday. She's not to know about Phuong, or the wedding at all."

  Xan dropped her flippers. "You haven't told your family you're married?" Jason didn't like the gleam in her eye. "Now, why wouldn't you do that? Is it because they won't approve of her? You're ashamed of her, aren't you? Go on, admit it. You're ashamed of your wife!"

  "All right, I admit it! I'm ashamed!" Jason shouted, scaring something into flight in the nearby bushes. Rats, probably, seeing as no birds rose above the jungle canopy. He lowered his voice so the whole staff compound couldn't hear him. "Not ashamed of her. Ashamed of me. Ashamed because I've been married a week and my wife hates me so much she doesn't want me to touch her." He waved at the tent he'd pitched in his pants. "So I'm fucking frustrated, yeah, because I'm not used to going without. So even you in your skimpy...swim gear gets me going. Don't take it as a compliment. I'd fuck almost anything in a skirt right now and I wouldn't fuck you." He glared at her. He meant it, too. The manager's tits were way bigger than he wanted in his women. Phuong's, however... "I'll take whatever I can get from my unwilling wife over anything from you." He set off down the jungle path back to Villa Penguin.

  "You know marital rape's a crime in Australia!" Xan called after him. "If you hurt that girl, you'll have hell to pay. Your rock star reputation won't protect you if the police get a hold of you. You'll be going to prison like all the other pricks. And then you'll really discover what rape's like..."

  Jason stopped dead. That was it. Jo and Xan had both recognised it, but he hadn't. Phuong acted just like Angel had after...all that happened to her. No wonder his every instinct told him to protect her and not to touch her. He hadn't messed up his marriage completely yet. But he knew how to make it right.

  FORTY-SEVEN

  Phuong waited until Jason was well down the path to the hotel before she ducked into the jungle track that led through the staff accommodation to the library. It was like the servants' entrance to the villas and it suited her, she thought. Just as long as none of the real staff saw her and told her off for using their secret track.

  When she stepped out of the jungle behind the last house, she heard voices, so she cautiously crept to the corner and peered around.

  She heard Jason's voice clearly: "You can't tell her. Not now, and not on Monday. She's not to know about Phuong, or the wedding at all."

  The feminine voice that followed was harder to hear, but it rose in volume until she could make out the words. What she did hear froze her heart.

  "You're ashamed of her, aren't you? Go on, admit it. You're ashamed of your wife!" the English manager hissed.

  "All right, I admit it! I'm ashamed!" Jason shouted back.

  Phuong didn't wait to hear any more. Instead, she did what she did best: she bolted.

  By the time she reached the villa, she was so blinded by tears that she couldn't see the scanner. It took a few wild swipes before the door swished open to grant her sanctuary.

  Not much, though. Jason's words still rang through her head, taunting her. Of course he was ashamed of her. She was a useless wife. She couldn't cook, he didn't need her to clean and as for sex...he hadn't touched her since their aborted wedding night. Wouldn't even look at her. Some wife she was, when her own husband didn't want her.

  She'd clean the bathroom with bleach, like she'd originally planned, she decided. Grout should be white, not red like the road on the mainland. She spritzed the tiles with the spray bottle and set to scrubbing. The stench of bleach seared her nostrils, tasting like citrus in the back of her throat, but she found it soothing. The bathroom had been the only place she could get away from Norman – especially when it smelled of cleaning chemicals. And if it made things better with Jason, all the better.

  "Phuong? Baby?" Jason stood in the doorway, one arm over his face to block out the fumes. "What are you doing in here?" He strode across the room and shoved the window wide, then waved the outside door open. He jammed the rubbish bin between the door and the wall to keep it from closing. The exhaust fan clicked on and whirred overhead. "Can I talk to you for a minute? Please?" He paused, then added, "In the other room. This one reeks."

  "But I need to finish – " she began, waving at the shower with her scrubbing brush.

  "Baby, I've already told you that you don't need to clean anything in this house. Why do you think you need to scrub the floor?"

  She stared at him for a long time, not knowing what to say. Nothing seemed right. Finally, she said, "I'm trying to be a good wife the only way I know how. I can't cook, and you've made it perfectly clear that you're not interested in sex, so cleaning...cleaning is all I can do." She wouldn't mention the conversation she'd overheard. She had a tiny speck of pride left, after all, and she'd lose that if she admitted to accidental eavesdropping.

  "Who told you I'm not interested in sex? Do I look like a fucking monk? A sex maniac, maybe, but not so crazy I can't see what's going on. You meant that kiss in the church, didn't you? With every fucking fibre of your being?"

  Now he wanted her to lay her feelings out in the open, so he could smash them like he'd done to her heart on their wedding night? No way would she admit she loved him when he had no feelings for her.

  He crouched down so he was on the same level as her. "Look me in the eye and tell me, Phuong. Do you want me to kiss you like we did then?"

  "Yes." Her response slipped out before she could stop it.

  "Right now?"

  Phuong stared at his outstretched hand. YES. She ripped off her gloves, seized his hand and let him help her to her feet and into his arms, where she belonged. Phuong savoured the safety for a moment before tilting her head so she could stare into his eyes. Warm honey and everything she wanted, so she stretched up to marry her mouth with his once more. Marital bliss in a single, passionate kiss.

  When she rested her head against his chest once more, gasping for breath, she heard his pounding heart – she wasn't the only one enjoying herself.

  "I have a million more where that came from, baby. All for you."

  Phuong smiled and said nothing, because nothing needed to be
said.

  "And what if I offered you a night of bliss, better than anything you ever had, full of sex better than you've ever dreamed of?"

  Her heart froze and her limbs turned leaden, sending clanging alarm bells through her head. She tried to pull away, but –

  "It's all right, baby. You don't need to answer that. I already know."

  Another kiss calmed her; a third sent her heart racing and a fourth ended too soon.

  When she met his eyes once more to ask why, she saw sadness.

  "Who hurt you, baby? Who made you hate sex so much?"

  He knew about Norman.

  Phuong wrenched free of his grasp. She eyed the open door, knowing she could be through it and off at a run before he could stop her, but it didn't matter. He'd catch up and keep pace with her, just like he did last time. She'd still have to answer.

  She swallowed several times, but the lump in her throat wouldn't leave. "I can't tell you. I can't. I just...can't."

  "Did you tell the police? If someone attacked you and hurt you, you have to report it. Rapists shouldn't be allowed to go unpunished. He'll do it again. He must be stopped."

  She stared at him. "Rape? No, it wasn't like that."

  "Then tell me what happened, baby. Tell me his name."

  No. He could never know about Norman. "No, I can't. It's not what you think. I'm not a rape victim." No, she'd walked into the relationship with her eyes open. Every time she'd opened her legs for that bastard, it had been her choice. The price of the future, or so she'd thought. How could she tell Jason that? He'd never understand.

  Jason nodded slowly. "Right. Okay. Not rape. Maybe he convinced you to have sex when you didn't want to. Do things you didn't want to. Did he hurt you, baby?"

  Shakily, she nodded. "But he didn't know. I didn't tell him after the first time because he said if it hurt after the first time, then there must be something wrong with me and even though I never liked it, I didn't...didn't want..." This time, she couldn't stop the tears from coming.