Tempted By Collection

‘That’s lovely. It’s not as though they haven’t got enough to think about at the moment.’

Minutes later they sat in front of their bure and watched the sun turning the sky red and yellow. ‘That’s an abrupt change from day to night,’ Zac commented.

‘Guess that’s the tropics for you. Hard to believe we left winter behind.’ The warm, heavy air made her clothes stick to her skin. She wouldn’t be wearing much for the next few days.

‘What’s your favourite season?’ Zac asked.

‘Summer, followed by summer. I hate being cold.’

‘Yet you bought an old villa that must be freezing in winter. Though, come to think of it, I didn’t notice a chill when I was there.’

‘First thing I did was improve the insulation in the roof and some of the walls. Then I had that firebox installed to replace the open fire. There’s also a heat pump in the hall.’

Zac chuckled. ‘I bought a very modern apartment and you went for the opposite.’

‘I love old villas. There’s something magical about them. Yes, they come with loads of problems, but get them sorted and there’s an amazing home waiting to be loved.’ She sipped her champagne. ‘There’s history in the boards. When I bought the place the vendors passed on to me a book written about the family who originally built it. The man had been an excise officer and his wife a nurse in the First World War.’

‘So you’re a history buff.’

‘Only when it comes to my property, but it’s neat knowing about the original owners.’ She laughed softly. ‘It was also a surprise finding I enjoy working on the redecorating. In spring I’m going to start putting in a garden to grow a few salad vegetables.’

‘I saw your pot plants in your hallway. Just go to the markets. That way you won’t starve.’

‘Thanks, pal.’ He was right. She always forgot to water the plants until they were drooping over the edges of their pots.

‘You grew up in Auckland, right?’

She nodded. ‘Remuera.’ One of Auckland’s most sought-after areas, where many of the city’s wealthy lived. On a street where fences were metres high, hiding a multitude of sins. ‘I went to a private school for girls, played the cello and joined the debating team.’ That was after the in-crowd had worked their number on her because her mother had followed her around dressed in identical outfits to hers, trying to look way younger than she was.

‘Was your childhood home another old house?’

She blinked, got back on track. Her mother wasn’t welcome on this holiday. ‘Yes. A massive, six-bedroom edifice with half an acre of gardens, a tennis court and a swimming pool.’

‘You played tennis?’ He didn’t hide his astonishment.

‘Me run around chasing a ball to bang it back over a net? Not likely.’

They were getting close to things she didn’t want to talk about when she was sitting in paradise. ‘I can’t wait to go snorkelling amongst the fishes.’

Zac went with her change as easily as butter melted on warm toast. ‘We should take a boat trip to Treasure Island and the marine reserve where the best array of fish is supposed to be.’

Zac had done some research before they’d left Auckland. She hadn’t had the time. ‘Five days might not be enough.’

How was he going to cope with not getting up close and naked? Zac grimaced. This magical setting was working mischief on his libido. What had he been thinking when he’d come up with that brainwave? Hadn’t been thinking, that was the trouble. Now his body was screaming out for Olivia’s, and he had no one to blame but himself.

‘Want a top-up?’ was the only lame excuse he could come up with in a hurry for getting out of the cane chair and putting some air between them for a moment.

‘Of course.’ When she handed him her glass she seemed to take desperate measures to prevent her fingers touching his.

Phew. Damn. Hell. He dragged his hand down over his hair. Less than an hour and he was a cot case. Certifiable. Had he been so desperate to come here with Olivia he’d have bargained with the devil if it had meant she’d agree? Seems like it. Didn’t make any sense, though.

Back on the porch he passed over a full glass. ‘Drink up. That ice bucket is now a water receptacle and the fridge is warmer than my toaster on full.’

‘Do we get dinner brought over? I’m kind of relaxed and comfortable now.’

And I’m in need of space and people around to break the grip you have on me. I am so not ready to spend all evening alone with you when I can’t touch you. ‘I’m thinking dining on the restaurant deck with candles under those palm trees would be special.’

‘I guess you’re right.’ When Olivia yawned there was nothing ladylike about her.

He grinned. ‘That’s it? No argument?’ Then she must be very tired.

‘If I stay here I’ll be asleep by seven, and probably awake again by midnight.’ Her throat worked as she swallowed.

‘CC? You all right?’

Olivia stood up and took a step to the edge of the porch. ‘Yeah,’ she huffed out over the lawn. ‘Good and dandy.’ Her voice sounded anything but.

Moving quietly, Zac stepped up beside her, rubbed his shoulder lightly against hers. Gave her a moment to regroup her thoughts. But his brain wasn’t quiet as it tossed up questions about this sudden mood swing. Was Olivia regretting the trip already? His stomach plummeted. Please, not that. No matter what happened after they left the island, he wanted this time with Olivia. Wanted them to have fun and be relaxed, to enjoy each other’s company. He felt rather than heard her soft sigh. A gentle lifting of her shoulder against his.

‘I’m afraid.’

Or that’s what he thought she’d whispered. Olivia afraid? Of what? Him? The urge rose to rant at her, to tell her he’d never hurt her. But reason caught him in time. If she’d ever believed he’d hurt her she wouldn’t have come near him, certainly wouldn’t be on this island with him. ‘Want to talk about it?’

‘No.’ She spoke to the dark space in front of them. Then after a minute, in a stronger tone, ‘Let’s go eat.’ Back in control of her emotions.

Which bugged the hell out of Zac. How was he supposed to get behind the walls she put up when she kept doing this? He wanted to shake her, shake out her story, then begin to help her move past whatever locked her up so tight. But one look at that jutting chin said that now wasn’t the moment. Though when would be the right time was a mystery to him. Olivia had made self-control an art form.

The only place he’d seen her enjoy herself completely, without thought for anything else, was in the sack. Light-bulb moment. Because when she’d finished she could, and did, put on her corporate-style clothes again and the control they represented.

For which he should be glad, but wasn’t.

A vision of Olivia in track pants and a sweatshirt. That night she’d started making love to him and it had been as different from any other time as north was to south. Slow and tender, giving and sharing.

For him it had been a game changer. Waking up in her bed in the morning had been a first. Lying tucked up against her back, his arm over her waist, holding her close, had been another first, and absolutely wonderful, like nothing he’d experienced before. So wonderful he’d settle for cuddling Olivia all night to wake up like that again.

Okay, he’d try, but it wouldn’t be easy. But he’d try really hard. Hard is the wrong word, buddy.

‘You plan on daydreaming all night?’ the woman causing these thoughts called from the door.

‘Why is it called daydreaming when I’m doing it at night?’

As they strolled along the lantern-lit path Zac found himself wondering for the first time ever if he was wrong to stick to his guns and deliberately deny himself a future that involved a beautiful, loving woman and maybe equally beautiful and loving children.

No, he couldn’t be wrong. How else did he justify keeping Olivia at arm’s length?

Later, Olivia slid beneath the bedcovers and tucked the sheet under her neck like a prissy girl from the convent.

Zac laughed. Long and loud. His eyes twinkled and his gorgeous mouth looked good enough to devour.

‘It’s not that funny.’ She tried not to laugh too, and only succeeded in making hysterical squawking noises instead.

‘Yeah, it is, when you think what we’ve got up to in beds before.’

That dampened down her mirth. ‘You want to change the rules.’

‘Damn right I do. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.’ He came and sat on the edge of the bed, on his side; no sign of laughter in his face now. ‘But I’m enjoying our time together. It’s like nothing we’ve ever done before and it’s …’ He waved his hand in the air between them. ‘Does fun sound boring?’

‘Fun is good.’

‘I want to get to learn more about you, what makes you tick, the things that you’d choose to do first if time was running out. Hell, I want to know everything about you. Before the gala night I didn’t know anything about you despite having spent many hours in your company.’

Wow. Really? Of course, he didn’t know what he was asking for. ‘We trained together. You can’t do that without learning some things.’ But she was ducking for cover, and that wasn’t fair. ‘Doctor things, I guess. Like how much you care about your patients, how intelligent you are, oh, and how pig-headed you can be.’

‘Thanks a bunch.’ Zac smiled. ‘Okay, random question. Do you still play the cello?’ He leaned back against the headboard and stretched his legs all the way down the bed.

She laughed. ‘No way. I sold my cello to buy an amazing pair of leather boots that were the envy of every girl at school.’ Which was why she’d wanted them. Now she bought the most amazing pairs of boots any time because she could, and loved them without needing any acknowledgement from others.

‘I bet you were good at music.’

‘Try very average on a good day. I think the music teacher only persisted with my lessons because he needed a cello in the school orchestra and no one else wanted to be hauling such a large instrument on and off the bus.’

‘Why are you doing that?’

‘What?’

‘Putting yourself down again. You’re a highly skilled surgeon, yet right now you’re sounding like you don’t believe in yourself.’

‘I’m not perfect, can’t excel at everything I do. For example, the pot plants in my house. But I am honest.’ Most of the time.

Zac reached for her hand and held it between both of his. ‘I know.’

Warm fuzzies uncurled inside her. It would be all too easy to lean her head against his chest and pretend they were a couple, a real couple with a history and a future that involved more than bedroom antics. The couple that woke up in the morning in each other’s arms.

Pulling her hand free, she shuffled further down the bed. ‘Time to get some sleep. Sunrise is early around these parts.’ As if she’d fall asleep with Zac barely inches away from her. Those pillows she’d stuffed down the middle as a barrier were a joke, and would take two seconds to get shot of. She could only hope his mental barrier was stronger. Hers was weakening.

‘Good night, Olivia.’ Zac leaned over and dropped the softest, sweetest kiss of her life on her forehead. ‘I’ll sit out on the porch for a while.’

If he was cross at her abrupt withdrawal he wasn’t showing it. But, then, he was good at hiding his feelings behind a smile or laughter. This time the smile was stretched a little too tight, and his eyes held a tinge of sadness.

‘Zac,’ she called as he reached the door leading outside. ‘Thanks.’

His eyebrow rose in query. ‘For?’

‘Being you, caring and understanding.’

Understanding? Zac growled under his breath. Newsflash, CC, I don’t understand a thing. Whatever’s going on between us is a complete mystery. What I want is no longer clear. I feel like I’m walking in deep mud and every now and then stepping onto a dry patch. A brief moment of hope before sliding back into the mire.

His right foot pushed against the ground to set the hammock swinging. Stretched full length, he linked his hands together behind his head. The dark sky twinkled with so many stars it was as though a kid had lit up a whole pack of sparklers. The hammock was unbelievably comfortable. So far the mosquitoes hadn’t found him. Hopefully when they did, he’d put enough insect repellent on what little skin was exposed to deter them.

His heart was back in the bure, lying next to Olivia. His mind was seeing the despair and fear that sometimes altered her expression and briefly filled those eyes that usually reminded him of flowers. Whatever had caused her grief, she wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Yet.

Come on. Why should she choose to bare her soul to him?

Because they were connected. They mightn’t have known it before but the threads were becoming more obvious by the day. They both had issues holding them back from getting into a serious relationship. What Olivia’s troubles were he had no idea, but they were there. He recognised his own stock standard coping mechanisms in her now that he’d started looking for them.

He wanted to hold her, protect her for ever.

Kind of strange for a guy who had no plans to commit to settling down. Yet all the reasons for why he shouldn’t were slipping away, one by one dropping off the edge, leaving him exposed and cautious yet strangely ready to try for the rainbow.

Was Olivia the pot of gold at the end of his rainbow?

No. There wasn’t any rainbow. The hardest lesson of his life had been that night of the accident when he’d learned his parents didn’t love him unconditionally. Didn’t love him enough to support and help him through the trauma of what he’d done. Sometimes he wondered if they’d loved him and Mark at all; as in deep, for ever, parent kind of love. Their careers had been their priority, taking all their time and concentration, with nothing left over for their sons. Why did they have children? They clearly hadn’t wanted to be with their sons. Zac had asked his grandfather about it on numerous occasions but Grampy hadn’t been able to come up with a satisfactory answer. Not one he was prepared to tell his grandson anyway.

Zac swallowed the usual bile that came from thinking about his parents. Coming from a dysfunctional family, the odds were he’d be bad at parenting too. Another reason not to settle down with a wonderful woman and contemplate the picket-fence scenario.

Zac’s sigh was long and slow. Around him everything had gone quiet, and lights were being turned off. With nothing to do after dinner most people would be settled in their bures. He pushed with his foot again, swinging the hammock high, sighing as the movement slowed and the arc became less and less. Beyond the edge of the lawn the waves rolled up the sand, then pulled away, rolled in, pulled away.

‘Zac, come inside.’

Someone was shaking his arm gently.

‘Come on. Wake up. You’re getting wet from the dew.’

Hauling his eyelids up, he saw her leaning over him, her long hair framing her face. ‘Olivia.’ His Olivia.

‘The one and only.’ She tugged at him. ‘You can’t spend the whole night out here.’

Swinging his legs over the side, he awkwardly pushed out of the hammock. ‘What time is it?’

‘One o’clock.’ She took his hand and led him inside to that damned bed with its row of pillows down the middle.

Zac shucked out of his shirt and trousers, jerked the bedcover back and threw the pillows on the floor. Dropping into bed, he reached for Olivia where she now lay on her side, facing him. ‘Roll over,’ he whispered. ‘I want to hold you all night.’

If only it were that easy.

CHAPTER TEN

AT THE END of the next day Zac stretched his legs out and laced his fingers behind his head. He would not think about night number two and lying beside Olivia again. Nope, he’d have a drink and watch the sunset. ‘Come on, woman, bring me that beer you promised.’

‘Sack the last slave, did you?’

‘Hell, no. She’s good for bed gymnastics.’ So much for not thinking about bed.

‘For that you’re going to have to wait. Or, novel idea, get your own drink.’ Olivia laughed. ‘I’m changing out of my bikini.’

Phew. Those two narrow strips of red fabric had kept his head in a spin all day. Had had him swimming in the sea four times, and in the pool once. Then there’d been the cold shower half an hour ago. He’d even taken a kayak out to paddle around the island. Anything to keep busy and the need strumming through his veins under control. Huh. As if. One look at Olivia and his blood was boiling and his crotch tightening. This sex ban would be his undoing. Who knew what state he’d be in by the time he got back to Auckland? Ruined for ever, probably.

‘Here.’

An icy bottle appeared before his eyes. ‘Thank you, and whoever’s responsible for these things.’ Then he made the mistake of looking at Olivia and pressed the bottom of the bottle over his manhood. The bikini would’ve been preferable.

‘You’re staring.’ She sank onto the deckchair beside him. ‘You don’t like my dress?’

While the skimpy piece of floral material did cover more of that exquisite body than the bikini had, the way the fabric draped was plain punishing. Mouth-watering, muscle-tightening, hormone-fizzing, blood-heating cruel. ‘You call that a dress?’ he hissed over dry lips.

She laughed, low and sexy. ‘Well, it’s not a T-shirt.’

How in hell was he to sit here drinking beer and not choke? Then he had to take her to dinner where every male on the island was going to gag, and their women would beat them around the head. ‘You’re a danger to mankind.’

‘I’ll change before dinner. Put a T-shirt on.’

‘Does that come with trousers?’ The beer was cold in his over-hot mouth; cool as it slid past the lump in his throat. One bottle wasn’t enough. Holding out his empty one, he growled in a mock bossy tone, ‘Another one, as soon as possible.’ His eyes were fixed on the horizon, glazed over for all he could see. His imagination was so busy dealing with pictures of Olivia’s hot bod and that handkerchief that was apparently a dress, nothing else about him seemed to be in good working order. Except the one muscle he wasn’t allowed to use.

‘Here you go, sir.’ A bottle held around the neck by slim fingers waved in front of his face.

He was going insane. Had to be. Grabbing the bottle, he raised it to his lips and gulped. Do something. Talk about anything, just get your brain working. Glancing around, he came up with, ‘So you’re not into spiders.’

Olivia shuddered. ‘Not at all, but until today I thought one the size of my thumbnail was a problem. But those things hanging over the path in webs wider than our bed?’ Another shudder. ‘Ugh. You were my hero, clearing those monsters out of the way.’

Our bed? This wasn’t helping. He tried again. ‘The outlook from the top of the hill showed how small the island is.’ Not exactly scintillating conversation. ‘It’s hard to imagine living on such a tiny spot in the ocean. I’d go stir-crazy if this was home for me.’

‘I guess if you’re born here it’s what you’re used to.’

‘Have you ever thought how lucky we are just because of where we were born?’ Deep, Zac, boy. And diverting. ‘Imagine how different our lives would be if we’d been born in the Sahara, or on the Indian continent.’

‘I’d have five kids and look ready to retire, except that wouldn’t be an option.’ Olivia grinned. ‘You’re right. It does come down to luck.’

‘I’m going to give that fishing a crack tomorrow. Donny—he’s the gardener—is lending me a hand line.’

The guy had strolled up to him as he’d watched the local men work the sudden rush of fish churning up the water at the shoreline and told him, ‘Trevally chase the Pacific sardines into the beach in a feeding frenzy. It happens about twice a day at this time of year.’

‘Do the men catch many?’ Zac had asked.

‘Good days and bad days. No one relies on trevallies as a regular supply of food for the family.’

‘I’ve never seen anyone use a hand line and no rod. The skin on those men’s hands must be tough.’ Zac had introduced himself and before he’d known it he’d had a fishing date for tomorrow. ‘I haven’t fished since I was a kid and Grampy took me out.’

Olivia was chuckling. ‘This I have to see. The immaculate surgeon getting his hands stinky from fish.’

‘I’m taking that as a positive sign. You obviously think I’ll catch one.’

‘And if you do? What will you do with it?’

He hadn’t thought that far ahead. ‘Ask the chef to cook it for us? Other people must’ve caught fish and taken them to the kitchen.’

‘Talking of kitchens, shall we stroll across to the outdoor lounge for a cocktail before dinner? I’ve never had one but this seems the place to give it a try.’

‘Good idea.’ Hopefully there’d be some diversions from that dress. ‘You’ll get one of those tacky little umbrellas to keep as a souvenir.’ He grinned.

‘Thought I’d start with a mimosa.’ She returned his grin.

‘Start? Are we in for a session?’

She shook her head, that shiny mane sliding over her shoulders. ‘You want me off my face and losing my mind?’

If it meant forgetting their promise—then, yes. But if he was being a gentleman—then, no.

‘I’ve caught one,’ Zac shouted triumphantly early the next morning as he wound the hand line in as fast as possible.

‘What? A sardine?’ Olivia teased. She’d strolled down the beach to join him, after opting for a leisurely start to the day by reading in bed after Donny had knocked on the door to tell Zac the fish were running.

‘A damned big trevally,’ Zac scowled. ‘This nylon’s hard on the hands.’

‘Toughen up. You don’t see the locals complaining.’ Looking along the beach, she could see two Fijian men also winding in taut lines. ‘You’ve got to get in the water and use your foot to scoop the fish up onto the sand.’

‘Glad I’ve got an expert telling me what to do.’ He started walking backwards up the beach, hauling his catch out of the water. ‘Look at that beauty.’

Trying not to laugh, she bent down to admire Zac’s fish. ‘Should keep a toddler from starving.’

‘Any time you want to go read your book again feel free. This is man stuff. Where’s Donny?’

‘Donny,’ Olivia called to the man standing further up the beach. ‘Zac’s caught something.’

As he wandered close Donny nodded. ‘Not bad for a first time.’

‘I guess that means I’m going to release it back into the water.’ Zac sighed, and carefully removed the hook.

‘Wait, photo opportunity.’ Olivia snapped a quick shot as Zac ignored the camera.

‘Wait till I get a proper fish.’ He held the fish in the water until it swam away, then threw the line as far beyond the churning water as possible so he could draw the hook through the seething trevally.

Olivia sat down, her elbows on her knees, and watched him. Never had she seen him so relaxed. He was concentrating so much he didn’t notice her snap a couple more photos. This holiday was showing her a different Zac. She particularly liked the one who’d tossed those pillows aside to hold her against him while they’d tried to go to sleep.

The climate had done a line on them, spoiling that hug, though probably saving her from having to haul the brakes on the raw need that had begun filling her. The humidity had made her skin slick and her body uncomfortably hot in a way that had had nothing to do with sex. They’d rolled apart after twenty minutes. Unbelievably, she’d fallen into a deep sleep not long after. Had to be because she’d felt so secure with this Zac who could take a night off the passion. She’d never spent a night just sleeping with a man. That spoke of intimacies too close for comfort, yet now she craved it with Zac more than anything.

A shudder ripped through her, disturbing in its intensity. Was she seriously in danger of falling for him? Unlikely. She only had to think of her parents’ marriage to knock those ideas into place.

Zac tossed a fist in the air. ‘Got another one.’

Olivia jumped up and went to stand beside him, eager to enjoy the moment and drop the past for a while. If only it was that easy to dump for ever.