Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong (10 page)

‘It’s my fault you were out there.
I
couldn’t wait.
I
wanted it now.’ Colour was high in his cheeks.

Honor stared at him and knew—without needing to know anything more about him— that this was the first time he’d ever admitted anything of the kind. She studied his face and realised that his pained expression was not embarrassment or awkwardness. It was something else. She felt her reserve slip more than a little, and another piece of armour fell away.

‘You’re in pain today because of me,’ he said. He looked up at her with naked, raw shame.

Her breath caught.

There
was the man she’d been wondering about.

Avoiding Rob on an island scarcely more than one square kilometre took some doing but she’d pulled it off for a whole twenty-four hours. It was no accident she’d spent last night watching for hatchlings and most of today sleeping, lingering in the tent longer than she needed to until she was sure he wasn’t around.

What had possessed her to reveal her most intimate secret to someone she hardly knew? She’d said things she’d never even told her counsellors. She couldn’t have picked a less suitable person to open up to. The last sort of someone to trust with a chunk of her soul.

She had a good handle on Rob Dalton after their few days of forced cohabitation. He was a player. Charming, undoubtedly talented, probably spoiled. Things came easy to men like him and he had the look of someone who hadn’t had to fight for much in his life.

She was attracted to him, no question. Flashes of his strong body in the surf, in the wetsuit, against her skin kept coming back at
inappropriate times. His casual confidence was appealing to someone who lacked the kind of social grace that he was gifted with. And that lazy smile …

Honor rinsed the toothpaste out of her mouth and spat into the earth, then covered it with loose sand. More roughly than she’d meant.

There had been the occasional intriguing glimpse beneath the very pretty façade, but otherwise she found him safely one-dimensional. All good looks and superficial charm. And that was the way she’d like to keep him.

Until yesterday. His raw shame drew her to him. She’d been intrigued by the imperfection. Something she suspected they might both have discovered at the same time.

She’d panicked and dashed off into the trees without thanking him for getting her safely back to camp, without acknowledging his apology. Not that he had apologised, technically, but he was trying to. Maybe that was new to him, too?

She sighed. Maybe yesterday wasn’t the finest day for either of them. He
had
manipulated her into going out on his boat, intentionally or not, and she had dumped all her troubles into his lap and then left him hanging when he’d opened up to her with his shame.

Was that why she’d panicked? She didn’t
want to be drawn to him, to like him or understand him. Imagining herself in his arms was nothing more than pure physical reaction. It was so much simpler when he was superficial and unlikeable. Safer.

She’d already exposed her soul; exposing her heart, too, would be the height of foolishness.

Honor shook her head to clear her unwanted thoughts and pulled her shirt on over her swimsuit. Yesterday’s shirt and the one from the day before. She only brought a handful of clothes to the island. What did it matter if the birds and crabs saw her in the same clothes week in and week out? It was ridiculous to be self-conscious about it now just because there was a man on the island. She reminded herself that Rob was in a worse position. He only had the clothes he’d sailed out in and a couple of spare T-shirts from
The Player.
The man was gadding around, shirtless, in black board shorts most of the time, but every time she saw him, it was like seeing that sensational torso for the first time. If the catch in her breath was any indication.

Honor moved away from camp towards the far side of the island, back towards the bay where the
Emden
memorial stood proudly. It would be the last place he would expect to
find her if he was looking for her. It was also the first place she’d be likely to find him if he wasn’t.

She ignored the thought.

She stepped carefully around clumps of trees bordering the inland lake, moving quietly so as not to disturb the wildlife resting there. The collective noise of hundreds of birds clucking, chortling or roosting disguised her movements and allowed her to reach the opposite shore with relative stealth.

Her heart lurched as she spotted him through the trees. He stood ankle-deep in the wash, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, his head tipped forward in thought. Honor shrank back into the shade of the shore trees to watch him. She wasn’t ready to see him again, to confront the anger in his eyes. Or, worse, the pity.

A frown creased his forehead where his hair fell forward over it. He kicked absently at shells on the sand under the lapping waters. Not rough enough to be anger, but agitated enough to be … What—confusion? There was no question in her mind that he’d never admitted to anyone what he’d admitted to her yesterday. Perhaps not even to himself. That he was self-absorbed.

She studied him, free for the first time to do so unobserved. Standing one-quarter onto her,
his board shorts hung low on his narrow hips, fit snugly across firm buttocks and draped over toned quads. Above them, his tanned back broadened out to a pair of shoulders that spoke of hidden strength. Not massive, but well formed and powerful. Not for the first time, Honor wondered how much of the real Rob he hid from her. From the world. Possibly from himself.

He turned and moved onto the shore. She held her breath and tucked back into a cluster of emerging coconut plants below the trees. If he saw her, she’d look completely ridiculous hiding in the bushes, but if she stepped out now, he’d know she was looking for him— spying on him—and after she’d given him such a earful for spying on her …

She squirrelled deeper, then froze as he moved up into the trees. If he looked to his right, he’d see her. Pin her with that heart-stopping gaze. Honor had a fleeting urge to rustle in her hiding spot, to bring on the confrontation.

But it passed and so did Rob and she hissed her breath out slowly and closed her eyes.

S
HE
was fast running out of excuses—and island—but tonight was a perfectly legitimate reason. It was work and, conveniently, it was one more way to keep a comfortable distance between them. She sat on her camp chair, perched on a flat vegetated spot about five metres back from the edge of the sandy turtle nesting site, her logbook ready in her lap. The sun hung low in the sky, just minutes away from sinking into the dark blue ocean.

She switched on her ultraviolet lamp, invisible to the turtles and not likely to frighten them away. Not that she would need it much tonight; it was a full moon, making for prime hatching conditions. Although she’d be lucky to get a hatching in any of the marked nests so soon.

The damage to the dunes told her female green turtles were still visiting nightly. Some of the fluorescent ties marking the survey
nests had snapped. If a turtle dug her nest out over the top of another, the first clutch of eggs was usually destroyed. Honor looked along the beach philosophically. It was such a small stretch of beach and dozens of females had laid already, more than once, so some losses to friendly fire were inevitable.

The first time she’d had to stand back and let nature take its course was the hardest. It was on a mainland project and many rare cockatoo nests had burned in a bushfire that went through while she was in the area surveying.

‘If people knew what happened in nature, they’d shut it down’

Nate’s words still resonated, all these years later.

Honor sighed. She didn’t let herself think casually of her husband, or Justin. She remembered them, every minute, but tried not to
think
about them. Now she’d done nothing but think of them all afternoon and evening.

It didn’t feel as bad as she thought it would. It still ached but it didn’t suck all the air from her body as it once had. She turned her head for the millionth time and stared to the north.

At least they were together.

Tingling senses warned her a split second before she heard the crunching of leaves behind her and she stiffened. He’d come for her.

‘Hi, stranger.’

Honor kept her eyes firmly glued to the nest markers as Rob squatted on the sand nearby. Not that she needed to look at him; she could practically feel every move he made through the highly charged place where her energy met his. Her pulse picked up.

She nodded in reply, glanced quickly at him and then back to the nests, not trusting herself to speak. That quick glance had told her all she needed to know. First—a day apart had done nothing to reduce the simmering tension between them. Second—he was still worried about her, judging by the cautious glance he returned.

Third—he’d shaved. That smooth jaw line called to her more than ever.

‘You haven’t been avoiding me, have you?’ Was that hurt in his voice?

‘I’ve been busy.’

His silence told her he knew she was lying. She squirmed under his steady regard. ‘Any luck?’

The turtles.
Good. Safe. ‘Nothing yet, but they’ll come.’

‘Honor … about yesterday …’

She stopped him with a raised hand. ‘Don’t, Rob. You’re sorry you asked me and I’m sorry that I put you through all that. Can we just leave it at that? Two very sorry people?’

‘Some are more sorry than others.’ He smiled and she recognised it instantly as that
other
smile of his, the fake one. But his intense stare was genuine.

She turned away on a blush, lest he read her mind. It was wrong to be surprised that he not only had read Orwell but could also joke with it, but she was. She hadn’t pegged him as the literary type. Then she realised she’d started having trouble pegging him as any particular type. He still stared at her intently and, for a frightening heartbeat, she wondered if he could read her mind.

She sidestepped the awkward silence. ‘How long have you been a diver?’

He sat up straighter and considered. ‘Since I could swim. I was always the one who freaked the other kids out by sitting on the bottom of the pool for too long. I found it so tranquil. Private.’

That was at odds with his adult life. ‘I wouldn’t have picked you as someone who likes tranquillity.’

‘There are lots of things you don’t know about me.’

Hadn’t she just been thinking that very thing? ‘You quote the classics, can’t stomach the sight of blood and are kind to animals. Anything else I need to know?’

He looked surprised. Perhaps he thought she
hadn’t been paying attention. ‘I make a mean lasagne.’

Her laugh was fast and loud. Birds flapped off their roosts and then settled again and their activity drew her gaze. When she looked back at him, he was staring at her openly. Curiously.

‘What?’

‘You’re such a mystery. Yesterday I would have put good money on you never speaking to me again. Now you’re laughing at my jokes.’

Honor knew that deserved an honest answer. She sighed. ‘Rob … Something like yesterday has never happened to me. Never. Even when they died, I didn’t really have a chance to just fall apart. I was even stuck in hospital up north for their funeral.’

Pity showed on his face before he schooled it.

‘It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It had to be conducted quickly because of how …’ She swallowed hard. ‘I was still in hospital in Darwin recovering from surgery and they were flown home to Perth. Anyway, to tell the truth, I didn’t want to go. I didn’t think it would make any difference to how I felt.’

‘So, that decision finally caught up with you?’

She dipped her head. He understood her very well for a stranger.

‘Right. I’m still quite shaky inside and out, but I think it was also very necessary, and overdue. This is not to say that I’m not mortified it happened in front of you, but … I guess it wouldn’t have happened without you.’

‘That’s what I—’

Her hand on his folded knees cut him off. ‘In a good way.’ His leg felt strong and cool under her hand. When he glanced down at it, she tucked it back into her lap. ‘Better out than in, as my mum used to say.’

‘Used to? Is she not still alive?’

She let the pause drag out too long. ‘Things were difficult between us after the accident. She lives in Broome now.’ She glanced to the east, back towards Australia. As though Tanya Brier might sense it. She’d put her life on hold for six months to nurse her only child back to full health, and she’d been repaid by …

‘Look, can we talk about something other than my mother?’

Rob blinked. ‘I’ll trade you.’

‘Mothers?’ She couldn’t help the eyebrow lift.

He laughed and she thought maybe he’d take her up on that. ‘Hard luck stories.’

‘What makes you think mine’s a hard luck story?’

‘Educated guess.’

Honor knew she wasn’t getting out of this
without airing some kind of dirty laundry. The piper wanted payment. She sighed. ‘You first.’

‘Chelsea Dalton.’ He said her name after a moment, as if it was a fashion label. ‘Beautiful.

Sexy.’

You knew you’d been on an island too long when a snort like the one she let rip then wasn’t embarrassing. ‘You can’t call your own mother sexy.’

‘Obviously not to me.’ He settled onto the sand at her feet.

Don’t get too comfortable.
She had no intention of making this a long conversation.

Rob went on. ‘But I can see the effect she has on other people. The effect she must have had on my dad.’

Despite her better judgement, interest prickled. ‘Had—past tense?’

‘I’m not sure when it wore off,’ he said as a shadow crossed his face, even in the moonlight. ‘Just one day in the middle of my teens it was gone. That look in his eyes.’

‘What does she do for a living?’

‘Oh, Chelsea doesn’t work.’ His mouth twisted self-deprecatingly. ‘At least not in the conventional sense; she’s made rather a career out of freeloading.’

Honor sucked in a breath at the harshness in his voice. She, of all people, knew how
complicated relationships with mothers could be, and the guilt that came with that. ‘Do you love her? ‘