Shipwrecked with Mr. Wrong

chapter TEN



FOR three days it went like that. Honor slept by day, monitored the birds in the late afternoon and the turtles by night and—in those mystical hours while the sun dawned over the eastern horizon—she gave time to Rob and let him fill a bit of the gaping solitude she carried around with her.

He effortlessly switched his body clock to nocturnal so that they could spend more time together, but mostly so that he could crawl into the tent with her and snuggle up close for the best sleeps either of them remembered having.

Rob was as good as his word, never pushing her for more than kisses—even if they broke out fresh supplies of ChapStick and even if some of those kisses got perilously intense and left them both strained and uncomfortable. Her focus on the physicality of what they were doing helped Honor keep it safely off the emotional aspects.

Not that it helped her particularly. She’d never felt anything like what his hard body and expert kisses inspired in her. Pretending not to realise that was murder. Had Nate ever been like that with her, or had she just forgotten?

Nate. Justin.

The ache in her heart concentrated into her belly and she heaved in a deep, shaky breath as she stilled. Not for the first time, she realised she hadn’t thought of them in hours. Oh, God, or was it days? She’d simply not realised.

Tears sprang into her eyes. She brought them both immediately to mind—imagined her bright-eyed little boy laughing and his serious-eyed father playing in their back yard. It physically hurt to think of them but Honor punished herself with thoughts and images as she scrubbed her body clean in the shade of a pisonia clump. The motions became fierce and painful, her cleansing sponge now a weapon.

She thought she’d held herself apart, these past days. While her body luxuriated in long forgotten closeness, her mind stayed vigilant for any slips and she kept her heart heavily fortified. She allowed herself to enjoy Rob’s touch—as if that was a choice—but few of her earlier lapses made it through the gauntlet of her renewed determination not to feel. If she could suppress her emotions about losing her family for years, then damping her bubbling connection to Rob Dalton for just a few days should be a piece of cake.

She tossed the sponge into its bowl and quickly towel-dried, knowing Rob could wake at any moment. How quickly they’d slipped into a comfortable zone with each other. Each able to stare at the other whenever they wished. To reach out and touch, to tug close and hold.

Yet Honor still couldn’t bring herself to be that free with his gaze. As though those all-seeing blue eyes might probe too deeply into hers and suddenly see her—the real her. The Honor actively withholding her heart and mind from him. If he’d noticed her habit of avoiding direct contact, he didn’t say a word.

Which made it too easy to pretend he might not.

Half an hour later, strong hands slid around her middle as she stared out to the north, lost in thought. She stiffened automatically, then consciously relaxed back into him. Touching was safe. If he was touching her he wouldn’t be asking more. It was when he stopped touching her and started working towards getting to know her that she really felt out of her depth. Getting to know you invariably led to getting to like you, which might just lead to—

She twisted in his arms and wrapped her own around him. His grip was relaxed, undemanding and strong. She drew such comfort from his solidness; it supported her physically and emotionally.

Oh, to have a hint of that strength at my disposal. Even on a good day, she felt just one setback away from complete meltdown.

‘How about you call in sick tonight and stay with me?’

Rob tucked her body close to his and rested his chin on the top of her head. She felt his warmth seep into her and temptation made her sag. She smiled against his perpetually bare chest, just millimetres from the tiny dumb-bell that had thrown her into such disarray that first day. She still loved it, even if she would never touch it. She’d made herself promise.

‘Who to? The head turtle?’ They both chuckled as he released her. She looked up at him. ‘I can’t. These night observations are critical.’

And I wouldn’t, anyway, a tiny voice hinted. She could only keep him physically occupied so long! She had no intention of lying in the dark for hours...talking.

‘Then how about I come out with you to the beach tonight?’

Honor’s movements stiffened. Why was he pushing it? He had her exclusively for hours every day. What more did he want from her?

‘It’s really easier if I do it alone.’

Her thoughts must have spilled out in her tone because she saw the uncharacteristic blaze of irritation in his eyes in the split second it took him to mask it. Then she imagined the cogs turning behind that tanned forehead and his eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth to speak and she steeled herself for his next tactic. Then he closed it again and relaxed back onto long spread legs. ‘I guess I’ll catch you later, then.’

‘You’ve got something to do?’ They still had a couple of hours before her watch was due to start. Honor vacillated between relief and disappointment.

‘I thought I should start packing my gear back into The Player. If she was going to sink at anchor, she would have done it by now.’

Packing.

Leaving.

It was the first time either of them had mentioned the arrival of the supply vessel since that first day, which felt like a lifetime ago. Possibly even someone else’s lifetime. Honor realised she’d been avoiding thinking about it.

‘Oh. Right. Do you want some help?’ Even she could hear the reluctance in her voice. How could she not want him to stay but not want him to go?

‘No, but thanks. It’ll kill a couple of hours and the workout will do me good.’

Her aching muscles considered the past three days as intensive workouts—they’d done nothing in their time together but swim and snorkel and run and kiss. The fact that he still needed more activity spoke volumes. The man was living granite flesh and those muscles didn’t stay rock-hard by luck. Honor stepped back towards the tent where her sweater and logbook waited for her. ‘I’ll see you in the morning, then. I might just...um...read for a bit.’

It burned her that she felt so bereft at the idea of having nothing to do if Rob wasn’t around to occupy her. She’d survived four years out here and she’d have to survive a lot longer after he left. Maybe it was time to start resuming old habits?

But something wouldn’t let her just walk away from him. As though life was pulling them apart and there was nothing either of them could do about it. Certainly neither was responsible. She brushed up to his side and stretched a gentle, sad kiss onto his cheek before continuing past and ducking into the tent.

Rob waited until she’d crawled into the tent before moving. He didn’t trust himself not to follow her in there and persuade her to extend that kiss. He was certain he’d have no trouble, judging by the flush he could bring to her skin with just a touch, but it aggravated him that he might need to resort to persuasion at all. He headed to the lagoon to cool off.

Honor was slipping away from him. He could see it happening right before his eyes and there wasn’t a thing he could do about it. Like holding onto an octopus, the harder he tried to hold her, the faster she slithered through his fingers. The only time he felt like he vaguely had a grasp on her was when they were together in the tent, wrapped in each other’s lips. In fact, there, she held on to him. Like a lifeline.

He wasn’t stupid. He knew that this was the first time she had let herself get involved with someone since she’d lost her husband and son. It thrilled him that he’d been the one to inspire her to take the leap; it meant she was seriously attracted to him. He certainly was to her. But he hadn’t failed to notice that, while she gave him her mouth willingly day after day, she had yet to give more of herself than that. In fact, she was distinctly offish about anything deeper than small talk.

Rob hauled the plastic tarp off the pile of electrical equipment sitting by the tree line on the lagoon edge and inspected it impatiently.

He knew little more about her today than he had ten days ago. He knew where she liked to be kissed. He knew how she tasted. He knew his mouth on her scars unhinged her completely. He was streaks ahead on the intimate stuff, but he had no clue what her favourite colour was, or whether she’d ever had her tonsils out, or where she’d grown up.

It bothered him. And it was stupid. He was alone on a deserted tropical island with a spectacular woman he would die to sleep with. Why the heck was he worrying about what school she went to or whether she’d had braces as a kid? Couldn’t he just enjoy it?

It took him over an hour to get the inflatable down to the water single-handed and load it fully with gear. He finally dragged it out waist deep into the lagoon. The tepid water did little to drag his absorbed mind back to the present.

It was clear that Honor was not going to share anything more than her kisses with him. Their latest conversation had been excruciating. It reminded him of every conversation his father had with his mother. Careful, empty words. Saying one thing and meaning another. His parents read each other expertly but, as a child, it had taken Rob years to learn about subtext.

Now, he knew it when he heard it.

He yanked the loaded inflatable roughly behind him as he swam towards the reef.

Honor wanted some privacy. He got that. He’d been in much the same position himself a time or two. With women who interested him physically but not emotionally. Women he just didn’t want to give himself to. Was that what was going on here? It killed him that she only wanted him physically while he had a burning desire to know what kind of cereal she liked best.

He shook his head and levered himself up onto the reef, holding fast to the inflatable’s tether.

He’d had to bite his tongue when she’d brushed off his offer to spend the night out watching turtles with her. Pride had silenced him when he might have charmed his way in. He had no doubt she would have relented but it galled him to get even close to begging. His ego took a hit every time she’d press her body against his to try to distract him from a conversation she didn’t want to have. As though he was that blinded by his libido. As though he was still the same man he’d left behind on the mainland. But he’d taken those kisses and run with them because there was every chance that was all he would ever have of his beautiful mermaid; he wasn’t a masochist. Curiosity burned alongside his desire. She was a mystery. He just didn’t buy her as a woman only interested in kisses. Even killer kisses.

Why wouldn’t she talk to him?

Before he knew it, he’d offloaded the inflatable’s contents onto the high, dry part of the reef and was on his way back in for a second load. It felt good to be puffing with exertion and he knew that, soon enough, his thoughts would clear of the woman with the maddening barriers and all he’d be able to think about was the next run, the next lift.

If he could just focus on the business of getting all this gear back on the boat...

An image shimmied into his mind of the day they’d dragged all this equipment onshore, how he’d stood close to a wet and glistening Honor. His attraction had been instant and so had her hostility. But how much had changed in just ten days? What else could change if only he had ten more?

But he didn’t. The supply vessel came in thirty-seven hours. It would stock Honor up with all the things she needed to re-establish her solo existence here. It would come with everything he needed to motor away from this island.

He would go.

And she wouldn’t stop him.

Sudden, brutal realisation of that hit him hard in the solar plexus. Rob winced. It was going to be a long afternoon of not managing to keep his mind off her.