Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong (12 page)

Tears trembled on her lashes and she struggled to blink them away in a futile attempt to disguise her confusion. Her heart hammered wildly. Even the ache she perpetually lived with ached.

To have the sensitive, awful skin touched at all by another person, let alone
kissed
so tenderly … it just about broke her heart anew. She swallowed back the bitter salt of tears.

Rob watched her cautiously. He didn’t look repulsed, her foggy logic whispered. He wasn’t
making excuses or avoiding eye contact. He looked focused and present and … disturbingly sexy.

Honor felt exactly like he looked. Smoky-eyed and just the tiniest bit wary. Did he realise just what an intimate thing that kiss had been? Maybe, judging by the uncertainty in his expression.

First vulnerable, now uncertain.
Maybe he was more human than she’d thought? Human and so very, very close.

That was enough to nudge her over the sensual precipice. She stretched up on her toes to press her mouth firmly against his. A small kiss, just lips meeting lips. But
she’d
done it. Not him.

And that made it a
big
kiss.

Rob’s hands slid up to frame her face, holding her steady while his lips grazed repeatedly over hers. A hint of coffee mixed with mint. It was a heady combination. Both of their chests heaved and Honor trembled at the taste and feel of a man’s breath on her face. Nice breath.

Rob’s breath.

He tested her lips with his tongue and she caved in immediately, admitting him and slipping her own tongue into blazing heaven. It was stupidly, hideously,
leg-crossingly
erotic. And it was only a kiss.

No wonder he was such a success with women. The man made out like a god.
Ding, ding, ding.

Alarm bells clanged. Sanity returned and Honor realised she’d been pressing her body against his still-healing stomach wounds. She tore herself away and retreated a few feet. Her breath came heavily and it pleased her to see that he was just as affected.

Expert in the art he might be, but even super-lover could clearly feel the attraction surging between them. How easy would it be to just let the energy draw her back into his arms? How tempting was it to give herself the physical pleasure, at least, and keep her heart bound up tight for her boys? Her lost boys.

She ignored the violent tingles still buzzing across her damaged skin and fought hard to find her voice. Her voice croaked out one word.

‘Six!’

H
ONOR
woke for the first time without the familiar ache in her chest. It took her moments to understand what was different. What was missing. Then shame knifed through her.

The ache belonged to Nate and Justin. Like the scars, it reminded her daily they were gone. On the best days, she woke with a light heart, then the pain flooded in with the memories. But sometimes she could hold the pain at bay for a moment and remember, just briefly, how it had once felt to wake like that every day. Once, so long ago.

Like today. No pain. Her breath came easier, her back was straighter, there was none of the nausea she’d learned to live with and the crushing pressure on her soul wasn’t there.

She closed her eyes against the fear that it was disloyal to have woken so ache-free.

Or did that blessed lightness belong to something different? The kisses she’d shared with Rob last night?

Familiar nausea kicked in and the weight redoubled. It hadn’t gone far at all.

Honor pulled her hair into a ponytail, dressed in a T-shirt and shorts and slipped her feet into raspberry-coloured thongs, trying, all the while, not to think about those kisses. She’d drifted off to sleep at dawn trying not to think about them and had proceeded to dream heartily all night—day—of those expert lips on her face, her mouth. How every cell in her body had turned to jelly as his breath tickled her neck, the moment his tongue finally worked its way into her mouth.

She’d never been kissed quite like it. That was no slur on Nate, any more than acknowledging Rob’s superior skill as a diver or a sailor. There were plenty of things Nate would have bettered Rob at.

Particle science. Sudoku. Lawn mowing.

He’d been older when they’d met. Older and more serious. And his kisses were warm and sweet and made her feel utterly treasured. Even if they’d never made her feel quite like a woman. The way she felt when Rob so much as smiled at her.

Outside, she stretched and glanced around tentatively. Damn it, how was she going to get on with her work if she was too scared to step outside her tent? There were only five days before the supply boat returned with her next
batch of supplies. Before Rob’s boat would be fixed. Less than a week—that was survivable. What passed between them last night wasn’t. Five long days to ensure they never crossed the line again.

She put her hand to her chest. Did the ache just intensify?

For all his interruptions to her routine, she had to admit Rob also brought a refreshing energy and outlook. He was the human equivalent to the frigatebirds—large and in-your-face, but free, fearless and windswept.

There was something to be said for fearlessness.

Honor sighed. She’d told herself she had done all the thinking she was going to about her handsome interloper. In a few days, he’d be on his way back to civilisation and his time marooned in the Indian Ocean with her would just be a great story to carry around like a drink at cocktail parties.

The thought hurt a little.

A lot.

‘Good morning.’ Rob walked back into camp from the lagoon, dressed in nothing more than board shorts and deck shoes, his usual attire. Would she even recognise him with clothes on? ‘I have a proposition for you.’

That devilish glint in his eye was beginning
to grow on her. She took a deep breath. ‘Another one?’

He didn’t pretend to misunderstand. When had he stopped playing that game?

‘A more decent proposition.’ The lively sparkle in his eye caught her interest and she waited while he came closer. He took her hand and led her to her favourite log.

I need to be sitting down for this? Uh oh …

‘I would like to take you diving, Honor.’

Her gut turned over and her pulse immediately responded to her panic. Rob’s gentle hand on her shoulder prevented her from leaping up.

‘Hear me out. Not like before, not me diving, you cooling your heels on deck. Both of us, exploring the reef, together.’

Acid burned low in her throat as nausea threatened. Fear wobbled in her voice. ‘I don’t know how to dive.’ It was an excuse, of course, but also the truth.

‘Snorkelling, really; just diving as far as your lungs can take you. There’s so much beauty down there, Honor. You’ve got to see it.’ Blue eyes sparkled with sincerity and hope.

Why
on earth
did he think this was a good idea?

‘No, Rob. You can’t ask me to do that.’ ‘I’m not asking, I’m offering. If you say no
I’ll never bring it up again.’ He squatted in front of her and took her hands gently. ‘I’ll be with you the entire way and show you what to do. If you get overwhelmed, you just rise to the surface. Find the sky. Hold on to me.’ He blazed up into her eyes. ‘Let me give you back the ocean, Honor.’

His dramatic words had the desired effect. Her fear immediately went to war with her burning desire to be free of it. She’d spent so long dreading being
on
the ocean, she’d had to sacrifice what was under it. She knew the atoll must be teeming with marine life she’d never seen up close. Never would see.

And Rob would be with her.

Find the sky.

‘I can’t go past the reef …’ she started hesitantly.

‘Okay. No further.’ Not a flicker of victory crossed his face, as though he knew he wasn’t over the line yet. ‘We’ll stay where you’re comfortable.’

‘And you’ll stay with me the entire way?’ She trusted he’d be as good as his word, if he gave it.

‘Scout’s honour,’ he pledged with two fingers in the air.

‘The scout salute has three fingers …’ ‘I was never a scout,’ he admitted.
I’ll bet.

She allowed a small smile. Could she do it? Her heart thumped a mile a minute. She’d swum these lagoon waters many times and they were a bit like home to her. How hard would it be to get a little closer to them? Get underneath?

‘There are turtles out there, Honor. The water’s full of them. This would put you one step closer.’

It was the final ace up his sleeve and he threw it down with confidence. She knew exactly what he was doing, trying to help her get over her fear of the ocean. Her eyes glanced to the north of their own accord. Suddenly she realised she was ready for that; she truly would love to see the turtles in their natural habitat. And whatever else was down there.

She nodded and a relieved smile split his face. Her pulse kicked up for a different reason. ‘When?’

‘What are you doing right now?’

Now?
Her heart pounded. ‘Uh … going snorkelling?’

‘Good girl. You won’t regret it.’

Honor wasn’t so certain, but she let him pull her to her feet, his face glowing with pride.

It didn’t feel bad to be the cause of that.

Rob wondered if Honor had any idea what her trust meant to him, or how brave she was.
She’d just put herself in his hands and he was not going to let her down. Asking had been a calculated risk, but the way she’d opened up after the dive gave him confidence that she might be ready to turn a corner. To take back part of her old life. The way she’d responded to his kisses and then kissed him wholeheartedly back had given him a sense of her desperation to be free from the shackles of her grief. Even if she didn’t know it.

While she’d slept, he’d wandered the beaches for most of the morning, thinking. The sea and what was under it meant so much to him, had healed him and given him strength. The rift he’d caused when he held fast to his desire to study archaeology instead of fully joining the family business. His parents’ thirty-year love/hate marriage. His difficulty in holding a relationship for more than a few months, not that his father considered
that
a problem at all. Time at sea and on the ocean floor had been what he needed to get his own hurdles into perspective, although they paled in comparison to Honor’s. He had an occupation he loved, financial security, brains and freedom. What did she have? Loss, grief and sorrow disguised behind those enormous, courageous eyes.

He wanted to heal her and a few hours
beneath the surface might go a long way to helping that happen.

Rob shoved away any thoughts about wanting more gratitude like last night. Look how that had ended up! Getting hot and heavy had just kind of … happened. It wasn’t his goal last night and it wasn’t his goal today.

If she stepped back onto this beach with fewer emotional scars, it was reward enough.

Liar!

Mostly enough, then.

Honor paused by the pile of snorkelling gear he’d left on the sand and raised one eyebrow at him. ‘You were pretty sure of yourself!’

He shrugged. ‘Occupational hazard.’

She didn’t look angry, but her righteous expression stirred him in places he shouldn’t be stirring.
God, you’re gorgeous.
She stripped down to reveal a new bikini—this one was no larger than the yellow job—and let him put the lightest of the weight belts around her middle. It was too loose by far so he unclipped it and tossed it back onto the sand. The last thing he wanted was for her to panic as the belt pulled her under. He’d never get her back in. He’d have to take it slowly.

The mask fitted but his spare flippers were woefully large on her slim feet.

‘Okay, forget the fins. I’ll be the motor
and you can hang on to me.’
Not the worst outcome,
a lascivious part of him admitted.

He carried Honor’s mask and snorkel to the lagoon edge. She followed him, showing no anxiety, then unexpectedly turned back.

‘Wait.’ She grabbed the giant-sized towel crumpled up with the snorkelling gear and laid it out on the sand, smiling shyly. ‘I like the way a warm towel feels after a swim.’

Sweet how she stalls.
‘Okay now?’

She nodded. ‘This is my lagoon. I’ll be fine in here.’ She said it as if she were creating reality.

They waded out to chest height and Rob did his best not to focus on the parts of her bobbing above the swell. He fitted his snorkel into his mask and twisted it back out of the way. Then he did the same with hers.

‘Snorkels are like an extension of your trachea,’ he explained, ‘poking above the water. The idea is to breathe in slow and deep as though you were above the water and then breathe out faster and more suddenly, like you were lifting weights.’ Honor looked at him dryly. ‘Sorry, I’ve never taught a woman. How about as though you were a whale clearing your blowhole?’

‘Flattering comparison, but I get you.’

He should have known a nature metaphor would have more meaning. ‘The water’s calm
inside the reef so you shouldn’t have water splashing in the spout, but if you do the blowhole thing you’ll keep it clear. After a few minutes you can ease off and only do it when necessary.’

He fitted the snorkel and helped her wrap her mouth and teeth around it.
Focus on the task at hand,
he told himself as she tested it with her tongue and fitted her lips tightly around the rubber mouthpiece. It was hard not to imagine those lips on him but the cold seawater soaking his lower half kept him focused.

They moved into deeper water as Honor practised coordinating her breathing. Treading water, their bodies drifted closer together and bumped several times. He wondered whether she’d noticed. She didn’t move away.

‘I can’t believe you’ve never done this,’ he said casually. ‘You guys never snorkelled off your boat?’

‘Nate wasn’t much into … Sailing was the only adventurous—’ She frowned defensively. ‘He was very good at what he did.’

But not at seeing what was important to his wife?
‘I’m sure he was.’ He got a feel for the way the water was going, then turned out to the lagoon. ‘Okay, let’s make a start. Hang onto my arm.’