White Ginger

chapter 3



Arne returned from the outer reef late in the afternoon. By seven o’clock, he’d unloaded his gear, cleaned down his boat, Leilani, named for his bright-eyed niece, and was driving faster than he should up the old Lookout Road in order to see again a pair of sea-blue eyes a man could drown in and die happy. Were they really so deep and blue, or was his memory playing tricks on him? It was difficult to think about much else.

If the failure of her hire car had not conveniently provided him with the initial excuse to help Amelie, and to spend time with her, his ingenuity would have been called on to create some means to get to know her. Probably he would have roped in Lili. She was a romantic at heart who would have been delighted to play Cupid for her brother. Certainly she’d jumped at the opportunity when he’d asked her to keep an eye out for Amelie, keen to get to know the beautiful young stranger who had captivated her brother.

Funny how he’d known, the moment she literally walked into his arms in the grocery store. The jolt of recognition had been like a bolt from the blue. As their eyes met, he’d seen an answering flash of recognition in hers, whether she was aware of it or not.

Long ago his grandmother had told him and Lili that it only took a single glance to know when your soul mate stood before you, that you would feel that all you ever needed in this world was there in front of your eyes. It had sounded very romantic at the time, but Arne now understood.

It had happened for him.

He wanted to be all she ever needed, to care for and protect her. Indeed, Amelie had called him her white knight that first night he had rescued her, but his present thoughts were rather less than chivalrous.

He wanted to hold her, to stroke her corn-blond hair and soft skin, so luminous under the tropical moon. What he wouldn’t give to have those blue eyes looking adoringly into his. And her mouth, full-lipped and sensual, inviting yet innocent. He wanted to crush her in his arms and kiss her until she knew that she was his and his alone. He had never wanted any woman as he wanted Amelie. Recognizing in her his soul mate, just as his grandmother had described, he had fallen in love with her without needing to know her.

But he had to win her love.

Lili had confided the details of Amelie’s failed relationship when he phoned her upon his return to shore. He knew now why Amelie seemed vulnerable. And why he must take this relationship slowly. His heart’s desire waged war with his brain’s common sense.

All the time he’d been out on the reef, she’d been in his thoughts. Certainly his mind had not been completely on his job. Taking a reading underwater, he would realize he’d already written it down. Filming the underwater life, he would imagine her face as he showed this world, with which he was so familiar, to her for the first time. Or, writing up his reports at night, he found himself staring out at the stars and moon and seeing them reflected in her wondrous eyes.

For a man so used to being in total control of his life, he realized that this slip of a girl from down under, as she described her homeland, had taken over his every thought. However much he wanted her, he mustn’t allow his desire to make him fall into the trap of rushing her. She had been hurt badly and he would not, must not frighten her with the force of his attraction to her. Love is patient after all. Time enough to make love to her when he’d won her love.

He turned into her yard. No lights shone from the windows although night had fallen. Without a car, where could she have gone? Concern knotted his stomach.

He strode to the narrow cliff path winding from her cabin to the beach below. Even as he stepped onto the track, torchlight bobbed up over the edge. Blinded by the light, he shaded his eyes.

“Hello there,” he called.

He couldn’t see her face beyond the light of her fisherman’s torch, but a little intake of breath and a blur of white guided him to reach down and help her up over the edge. Her cool hand sent familiar sparks along his arm, a tingling sensation he could become addicted to.

“Hi.” Retaining hold of his hand, she pointed her torch at the ground. As his eyes readjusted his gaze was drawn to the rise and fell of her chest. A light breeze ruffled her short skirt and spaghetti-strap top, molding her clothes to her curves. He swallowed. She wasn’t wearing a bra. His slim-fitting jeans were suddenly a little too snug. Keen to avoid embarrassment, he stepped to her side.

“You’re back. How was your mission? Impossible?” She chuckled but sounded pleased to see him. Had she missed him? He wished Lili had been more forthcoming about the rest of their conversation.

Her quirky sense of humor and ability to laugh at herself were endearing. The perfume of the white ginger bush filled the night air with its sweetness as they climbed the stairs to the veranda.

“Have you eaten yet? I’ve been on the beach for the past hour or more.”

“How about I cook and you open the wine this time?” He reached into the paper grocery bag he had grabbed from the jeep in passing. “I picked these up fresh off the trawler. They followed me in to harbor.”

“And he can cook!” She raised her eyes as though giving thanks to heaven.

“Cheeky. Wait till you’ve tasted it before you give thanks.” He handed her a bottle of Viognier. When Amelie struggled to open the screw top, he took it from her, gave one quick, sharp twist, and presented it with a little bow. Amelie poured two glasses, clinking hers against his. She strolled around the other side of the cupboard to give him space in the small kitchen.

With minimal effort and great efficiency, he set about creating a scallop stir-fry, hoping the way to this woman’s heart might also be through her stomach.

“It smells divine.” Amelie leaned on the kitchen counter sipping her wine. “Is there anything you don’t do well? Etruscan pottery? Do you speak another language?”

“My French is passable…”

She groaned and covered her eyes. “Of course you speak another language.”

“I don’t draw, and I hate sitting at a desk for too long, but I love being active…” His mind filled with images of the activity he wanted to perform right now as Amelie choked on her wine. She leaned over the bench, coughing, and the neckline of her top gaped a little. He turned smartly back to the stove and took a big mouthful of his wine.

“Why don’t you set the table? This is almost ready.” If she kept looking at him with her wide blue-eyed gaze, he didn’t think he could stick to his plan not to touch her.

They ate on the veranda, the little table so small that the bottle of wine had to sit on the floor beside Arne. The sounds of the tropical night filtered into his subconscious as they relaxed with their wine after the meal. He could get used to this so easily.

Steady, boy!

“I made a video while I was on the reef. It might offer some possibilities for your painting. Would you like to see it?”

“Yes, please. How thoughtful of you.”

Every thought was of you.

Moving into the lounge, he pulled a camcorder from his backpack. “Of course, no camera can do full justice to the brilliance of the light down there, or the thrill of actually being in the middle of all that life dashing about, but I hoped it might convince you to come out with me one day and see for yourself.”

While he set up the player, Amelie poured the last of the wine and then sat back on the couch. “I can’t believe you filmed this for me.”

“Well, I had to have something to tempt you into my world.”

* * * *

A little thrill ran through her.

He did this for me.

Listening to Arne describe the underwater world, she began to appreciate how passionate he was about his work. Corals and darting fish filled the screen as Amelie watched, spellbound. She was already arranging them into patterns, placing them on lustrous fabric that would provide a light-reflecting background for the teeming life she would paint.

Her fingers itched to make a quick drawing, and she reached for her sketch pad and pencil. With sure strokes, she rendered a black and white scene that captured the languid movement of the seaweed and the swift dashes of Angel fish between the fronds.

“How do you do that?” Arne asked, genuine admiration in his voice. She looked up with a guilty start. For a moment, she had forgotten her delightful guest.

“Oh, I’m sorry. I get so carried away when I get an idea I just have to commit it to paper right away.” Her cheeks warmed at her thoughtlessness. How could she have forgotten Arne sitting beside her on the couch! The man was so not forgettable.

She looked apologetically at him, and a devilish glint appeared in his eyes. “Stay there.” Flicking over to a new page, her pencil flew across the paper. She paused contemplating his face again and then feathered more lines on her page. After a while she sat back, satisfied.

“Are you going to show me?”

No way is he seeing this sketch.

Hugging her sketchbook to her chest, she looked teasingly up at him. “I don’t think so.”

She jumped off the couch to return her drawing materials to the cupboard. Arne was quicker. He reached one arm around her slender waist from behind and with the other, grabbed her wrist holding the sketchbook.

* * * *

He gazed at her sketch. She was good, really good. With bold, simple strokes, she’d captured more than he would have liked her to have seen in his face at this point in time, especially in his eyes. How perceptive she was.

As he contemplated her drawing, Amelie twisted neatly out of his arm. “Oh, no you don’t!” He laughed, dropping her sketch pad on the table. “You’re not getting away that easily.”

She darted as swiftly as one of the tropical reef fish, her long hair flicking out as she changed direction, sure-footed and laughing. As she raced around the end of the couch, he leaped over the back of it, grabbing her outflung arm and pulling her close. Her hands flew up, balancing against his chest.

“I think you owe me a modeling fee.” He grinned down at her.

“I don’t think I can afford to pay you,” she murmured, sounding breathless. Long dark lashes swept down to her cheeks and slowly up again. Sea-blue eyes met his.

“Then I’ll have to take my fee in kind.”

Slowly, he bent his head to hers, allowing her time to pull back. She tilted her head to meet his mouth as he claimed her lips, teasingly light as they met for the first time. He tasted her softness and warmth as her lips parted. A force flowed between them.

His tongue flicked the corners of her lips, tempting her to catch him, draw him in. Her arms slid up around his neck and he melded her body to his, pressing her closer. One hand eased up to cradle the nape of her neck, his fingers sliding deep into the thick soft mass of her hair. His other hand slid further down the curve of her back, over her hips, feeling the warmth of her through the thin material as his circular caress slipped over her skirt.

She rose on tiptoe, holding him tightly, meeting his unspoken need to be closer. Wanting more, he thrust his tongue deeper, tasting her.

“Amelie.” He groaned, low, urgent and his self-restraint snapped. This was what he had longed to do with her since she fell into his arms in the grocery store.

* * * *

His mouth and hands drew her to a place where time ceased to exist. Amelie sighed against his lips, a low sound that was almost a moan. His hot breath mingled with hers and desire shafted through her body.

She twined her fingers through Arne’s raven hair, dug into the solid muscle of his back, while his lips plundered hers. This felt so right.

He half carried, half fell back onto the couch with her in his arms. One knee slipped between her legs. Pushing her skirt up, his questing hands shaped her thighs and bottom. Hungry for him, she pressed her hips against the bulge in his jeans. He groaned and sought her mouth again.

She slid her hands up beneath his shirt, feeling the heat of his bare skin, beginning to learn the shape of his hard muscles beneath her palms.

He nibbled on her neck, the sensation sending messages racing through her body. Her nipples pebbled against his chest. She tilted her head back and he kissed the pulse beating madly at the base of her throat.

A far-off jangling sound and odd vibration in the region of their hips intruded. Slowly, his lips withdrew from her neck.

“Damn.” Arne eased out the arm cradling her head and pulled his cell from his pocket, keeping hold of her hip with his other hand. She opened eyes that refused to focus. He flipped the cell open. “Yes?”

As the caller spoke, Arne’s eyes narrowed. His gaze flicked to his jeep, then back to Amelie’s face.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.” He snapped the phone shut.

“There’s been a break-in at the marina, in my equipment shed.” His hands lightly massaged her hips then he sighed and sat up. “I have to go.” Even now, after an emergency call from the police, he was slow to move. Gently, he kissed her lips and then leaned his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry, Amelie.”

She ached to pull him in to finish what they had started. His kisses aroused her to the point where, if his phone hadn’t rung, she doubted she would have stopped him. For Arne’s sake, she tried to focus.

She followed him onto the veranda. He tucked in his shirt and then turned to take her hands in his. “Good night, Amelie.”

“Can I come with you?” His thumbs ran back and forth across her knuckles.

“No. It might not be safe yet. Look, I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? I’ll pick you up about eight o’clock and we’ll go pick up your new car.”

“Be careful.” She didn’t trust herself to say more.

He nodded and kissed her lips lightly. Pausing to look into her eyes, he smiled at her, trailing his fingers along her jaw. “Till tomorrow.”

His white shirt stood out in the light of the moon as he crossed to his jeep. With a brief wave, he was gone; the only sound was the jeep’s engine roaring up the track to Lookout Road.

Amelie stood looking out over the moonlit water, her fingers butterfly-brushing her lips. Closing her eyes she wrapped her arms around herself to hold the memory of his lithe body pressed firmly against hers. She tilted her head back and finger-tipped the path his lips had taken along her throat. And giggled. She had broken through his gentlemanly reserve and liked the results.

Oops. Opening her eyes wide, she stared at the moonlight path on the sea. What if he hadn’t meant that to happen? Like her, he was recovering from a broken relationship and her own bitter experience had taught her time was the only solution.

Only a few days ago she’d promised herself she wasn’t going to rush into another relationship but take it slowly, stay in control.

Good one, Amelie. One kiss in paradise and you’re lost in the romance of the moment. Dumb, dumb, dumb. And he’s still hurting from being thrown over. Remember?

She gazed over the rolling moonlit waters of the Pacific, annoyed with her lack of resolve. But his lips, his hands on her skin had awakened her emotions. She wanted to explore this attraction between them.

If his phone hadn’t rung, would they have stopped at just kissing tonight? It seemed to her that the rising tide of passion had been equally strong on both sides.

She tried to be honest, having long ago learned how pointless it was to delude herself, and admitted that Arne had stirred deep feelings in her. Relaxing her recent strict self-control had shown her one thing–she still had a heart. And Arne had touched it, stirred it in a way that excited and, yes, frightened her a little too. She wasn’t sure she was ready to handle such a man, such a passion as he ignited. And yet, how heady were his kisses. If only his phone hadn’t rung. They might have surrendered to the passion that had flared so quickly. And she wondered if she would have cared when they reached the light of day.

Gathering her sketchbook and pencils again, she noticed his camcorder on her worktable and picked it up. Curious to examine the rest of the footage, she plugged the machine in and pressed play. As before, she was amazed by the color and diversity of the underwater world. Shapes and patterns leaped out.

Busily selecting and rearranging them in her mind, she paused when one image, an odd shadow at the edge of the camera’s vision, caught her attention. Trained to observe and analyze shapes, colors and proportions, it struck her as an anomaly. A man-made shape in a natural world. It wasn’t a shadow created by Arne; the angle was wrong, given the slant of sunlight from above. She reversed the run then put it in slow forward mode, advancing frame by frame until she had examined it as well as she could. Rectangular in shape, it appeared to be a plastic box. It could be part of Arne’s survey equipment, but he’d drawn her attention to his set up earlier in the footage. This box differed from the others.

Given Arne’s preoccupation with filming the reef, she wondered if he’d noticed the oddity. There was insufficient resolution to see more detail, but she would ask him about it in the morning.

A vague misapprehension took hold of her. He’d only returned that afternoon. Could the break-in at Arne’s equipment shed be coincidence or were the thieves after something quite specific, like the camcorder that may have recorded something that someone didn’t want to become general knowledge?

Amelie tried to remember. What had Lili said about Arne's battle with the billionaire developer the other day? Something that suggested James Sanderson was single-minded and unethical when it came to getting his own way. And perhaps also capable of ordering a break-in to ensure that Arne hadn’t acquired evidence against him? Amelie couldn’t contain her fears that Arne was walking into danger. If only she had a car or a cell phone.