Was the way he was feeling caused by adrenalin?
Or not.
He wanted it to be not.
‘Is that why you’re not telling her you own the cruise line? Are you afraid of how she’ll react? Are you afraid the illusion will shatter and she’ll be just like the others?’ He asked the questions out loud.
No one answered. Of course they didn’t. Two nights on a deserted island and he was already losing his mind.
‘Get a grip,’ he told himself. ‘You need to keep a plan in place. Be logical.
‘And lie to the lady?
‘It’s not lying, simply not telling her I own the cruise line. I don’t want to see her face change.
‘It won’t change.’
It might. He knew by now that wealth scared as well as attracted.
‘There’s too much emotion here already,’ he told the leaping flames. ‘Too many complications. Get off this island before you make any decisions.’
That was sensible and a man had to be sensible.
He also had to go back to Rachel.
* * *
They woke in the pre-dawn light and headed for their waterhole. The level was starting to fall, despite Rachel’s jacket.
There was nothing more they could do to protect it.
They moved to another ledge, in the shade. By mutual consent, they ate two more pieces of barley sugar. They had eight pieces left.
There was nothing left to do. They went back to lying side by side, just touching, looking out over the ocean.
It was the most comfortable position, Finn thought. It was sensible—conserving energy, taking and giving comfort.
Waiting.
And talking?
‘Tell me about the kids,’ she asked into the stillness and he realised they hadn’t talked for half an hour. This woman was...restful.
Special.
‘What do you want to know?’
‘Are they yours?’
And there was something in her voice that said Don’t lie.
So he didn’t. ‘They’re my father’s,’ he told her. ‘They’re younger than me, but they’re my half siblings.’
She considered for a while, thoughtful rather than reactive.
‘Maud will be pleased,’ she said at last.
‘That’s what I’m afraid of,’ he said, and he felt her smile. And then go back to thinking.
‘Their mother can’t take care of them?’
He thought of Richard and Connie as he’d last seen them. Then he thought of how he’d first met them.
‘They have different mothers,’ he said.
‘And you’re supporting them?’
‘They live with me, but my father left enough to pay for their keep,’ he said curtly. There was no reason to take that further, either, to tell her how the money had been left, or how much money they were talking about.
But she was figuring things out for herself. She was figuring him out. She wriggled and turned so she was facing him.
‘Where are they now?’
‘At home. We have a housekeeper. A good one.’
‘Then you’re not just a boat-builder,’ she said, and it wasn’t a question. ‘There are lots of things you’re not telling me, Mr Mysterious. This drug thing... It’s not accidental that you were up there watching.’
‘No.’ He didn’t have a choice—she already knew.
‘And you’d rather not tell me why?’
‘I...yes.’
She gazed at him for a long time and then gave a decisive nod.
‘I can live with that,’ she said. ‘I’ve decided you’re an undercover cop, travelling the world rooting out evil. Under that bronzed chest you’re wearing skin-tight Lycra emblazoned with a huge S for Superhero. If a croc appears you’ll disappear into your phone booth, shed your skin, emerge in your leotard and carry me skywards.’
He chuckled but shook his head. ‘I’ve seen the wood you lugged up the cliff. If there’s any S, it’s under your nightdress.’
‘You’d know,’ she said and grinned and he smiled at her and she smiled back—and suddenly the need to kiss her was overwhelming. Totally, absolutely overwhelming.
And he looked at her and he knew she was thinking exactly the same thing.
‘Tell me about the boats you’ve built,’ she said hastily—too hastily. Suddenly sounding panicky.
‘My boats equate to your rocks,’ he told her. ‘I’m passionate. You don’t want to get me started.’
‘Don’t I?’
‘No.’
‘Hmm.’ She leaned forward and took his hands in hers, studying them as if reading life lines.
‘You are a boat-builder,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Or you were. These hands have been battered, but not for a while. You’re getting soft.’
‘Hey!’
‘No offence,’ she said and smiled. ‘The blisters you got yesterday make up for it.’
‘Rachel...’
‘And the blisters you’ll get today,’ she decreed. ‘You’re on wood-fetching duty this morning. I’ll look after the fires.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said, and thought there were things he wanted to do more than cart wood.
Much more.
But they were trapped on this island. This situation was fraught.
And... He didn’t have a condom.
She’d described him as honourable.
The way she was looking at him, it was a very hard descriptor to live up to.
* * *
The morning passed slowly. Too slowly, considering the amount of barley sugar they had left. And water.
They made their fires smoulder rather than flame, using damp wood rather than dry stuff, and then turned their attention to hunting.
‘We need a waddy,’ Rachel decreed.
‘What’s a waddy?’
‘Grandma had one. She called it her amirre, a mix of spear and club. She kept it in the wardrobe in case of burglars. I’m not sure where it’s gone—when we went into foster care we couldn’t take it with us.’ She chuckled. ‘Can you imagine— “Will you take care of these two cute little girls? And, by the way, they have a waddy and they know how to use it.”’
‘I can’t imagine,’ he said faintly. ‘So, without a waddy...’
‘We’re in trouble.’ Her smile faded and she stared out at the horizon.
‘They’ll come,’ she said. Humour aside, this place was inaccessible, uncharted, a thousand miles from anywhere. ‘And your family... Won’t they be looking?’
His family. Connie and Richard? They’d be distressed to know he’d gone missing but it wouldn’t change things. When they’d first come to live with him they’d seemed distant, almost scared of him, but gradually they’d started letting him act like the big brother he was. He worried about them. He’d spent time with them, getting them the help they needed to start on careers they enjoyed. He even put up with their appalling tastes in music. He knew he’d grown fond of the two of them, but they’d been on their own for so long that they’d learned not to need. His loss surely wouldn’t leave a hole in their lives.
And, as if she sensed the thought, Rachel moved imperceptibly closer and hugged him.
‘Don’t worry,’ she said softly. ‘You can share Maud. You can have the matchmaking part.’
‘Wow, thanks.’
She chuckled. The wobble had gone again.
How could she keep smiling? Her nightdress was ripped, her hair was matted and her nose was sunburned and blistered. She must be as hungry as he was and, no matter how much she trusted Maud, she must know how precarious their position was.
But her smile was pinned firmly back in place.
‘You could do with a matchmaker,’ she sa
id. ‘When we get back I’ll tell Maud to do her worst. One honourable scoundrel, in need of a good woman to take care of him and his siblings. I don’t know what you are, Finn Kinnard, but I do know you mean well.’
‘Um... Thank you.’
‘Mind, I’m a hopeless judge of character. I shouldn’t trust you at all.’
‘You can trust me,’ he said.
‘I think I can,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘You don’t lie. Not directly. I’m figuring that out. But I wish you could be honest.’
Tell her. Now.
Why not?
A lizard darted from under the rocks, right at their feet, and Rachel grabbed—and missed.
‘I need my waddy,’ she said.
‘I don’t think this island runs to a waddy shop.’
‘That’s where you come in, my superhero with Boy Scout penknife,’ she decreed. ‘I’ll draw a construction diagram in the sand, and you do the rest. That’s what superheroes do.’
‘Really?’
‘Really,’ she said and smiled in a way that twisted his heart like it had never been twisted.
It was the place, the isolation, the shared fear, he told himself. It must be.
But as he watched her clamber over the rocks in search of suitable wood for her waddy—he should help and in a moment he would but for now, for this instant, he just watched—he knew it was far more than that.
Far more.
Something was breaking inside him. Some armour he’d never thought could be pierced.
This woman...
If she asked more, he’d tell her.
‘Oi,’ she yelled back at him. ‘Sharpen your knife while you’re waiting, Superhero.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he called back faintly. ‘Anything you say.’
* * *
They built an awesome waddy. It took them two hours, which was two hours where they could concentrate on something other than how hungry they were—and then a helicopter came in from the south.
It was a dot at first, weaving between distant islands—and then someone on board must have seen the smoke because it changed direction and came in low and fast, not deviating, heading straight for them.
Rescue? Or...
‘Do you suppose...?’ He glanced at Rachel and saw the colour had drained from her face.
‘Do you think...?’ she whispered.
He put his arm around her and held. Tight. ‘That this is the good guys?’ he asked. ‘Yes, I do.’ He said it firmly, definitely, and he held her hard and he tried to believe it.
He did believe it. It made sense.
‘It’s red,’ Rachel said, shading her face and staring as if she was willing field glasses into her hand. ‘Amy says Hugo flies a red chopper.’
‘Hugo?’
‘My soon-to-be brother-in-law.’
What were the chances of her sister’s fiancé finding them? It’d be Search and Rescue, or even the army if Maud had that sort of pull, Finn thought—but the chopper was definitely red and it was zeroing in.
‘Should...should we wave?’ Rachel’s voice was tremulous and he pulled her closer still.
‘We don’t have a choice,’ he said firmly. ‘If we hide we don’t get rescued, and even roast lizard might get boring. Plus I left my razor behind. So if you don’t want to be castaway with The Old Man of The Sea...’
‘H...heaven forbid.’
‘Then we wave.’
They did, stepping out into the sunshine and waving like lunatics.
And then the chopper was right over them, swooping so low they could see a figure frantically waving back from the passenger seat. Beside them was the pilot, intent on his controls, but as they made their first sweep he raised his hand as well.
‘It’s Amy.’ Rachel was waving and sobbing, waving and sobbing, hardly coherent through her sobs. ‘It’s my Amy and her Hugo. It’s my family. I knew they’d come.’
And as Finn watched the wild waving from above he thought...
Her family.
She had people who loved her and were claiming her.
Here was rescue. He should be jubilant—and part of him was. But why was he feeling as if he was losing something?
It was something he never had, he told himself fiercely.
He could have it.
Don’t go there, he told himself harshly. Or not yet. This was too precious, too amazing to rush.
One step at a time.
But still he was faced with the sense that he was losing her.
‘It seems a shame to waste the waddy,’ he managed. ‘You want to tell them to come back tomorrow?’
‘The waddy gets rescued as well,’ Rachel said, smiling and smiling. ‘And the lizard population will be grateful to see it go. I intend to use my waddy on beef steak instead. Mmm, beef steak. And chips. And maybe a dollop of ice cream on the side. You want to join me? I think our ride’s waiting.’
CHAPTER NINE
AMY and Hugo circled the tiny island half a dozen times so there could be no doubt that Finn and Rachel knew they were indeed found, but there was little they could do about rescuing them. They dropped a padded box of water bottles and biscuits and dried fruit—which shattered on the rocks, but enough remained intact to protect the lizard population. They waved fiercely again, signalling more help was on the way, then zoomed off in their little red chopper back to the mainland.
‘Their machine has a limited range,’ Finn told Rachel as she watched them leave in dismay. ‘It’s a miracle they found us—their refuelling base will be miles inland. But the big guns will come now.’
And the big guns did come—two army choppers, fast, powerful, purposeful.
Two minutes after they arrived, a guy in rescue gear was winched down to join them.
‘Boy, are we pleased to see you,’ the uniformed paramedic said. ‘Any injuries?’
‘Sunburn, ant bites, sore feet and blisters,’ Finn managed. ‘Nothing to worry about at all. And you’re not as pleased to see us as we are to see you.’
‘You have one old lady to thank for that,’ he told them. ‘Plus the Thurston empire. We couldn’t have searched without the resources Dame Maud’s commandeered, not when the Temptress Captain told us you must be dead. The crew was certain. They’ll be over the moon to know you’re found.’
‘Can you stop them knowing?’ Finn asked.
The guy was looking at Finn’s hands. Assessing damage. He paused and raised a brow in question.
‘I need to get a message to the police, urgently,’ Finn said. ‘We’re fine, but we didn’t fall from the Temptress.’
‘Word is that you guys were having a midnight tryst,’ the man said mildly, but he’d seen the way Finn had tugged Rachel close and the way Rachel clung. ‘Word is that you got carried away on a rough night, and toppled right in. So...no tryst?’
‘The tryst wasn’t of our making.’
‘You’re trysting now,’ the guy pointed out, grinning. He’d grinned since he’d reached them. Finn guessed not many of this guy’s searches resulted in happy endings.
‘We’ve learned how to tryst,’ Rachel said, smiling back at him. Smiling and smiling. ‘Trysting’s an important survival technique. Finn, can’t we tell Maud?’
‘Is Dame Maud still on the Temptress?’
‘As far as I know,’ the guy said, ‘the cruise has continued. We offered to take her off but she told us all resources were to be used to look for you.’
‘There’s a drug cache on that boat,’ Finn said evenly. ‘That’s why we were forced overboard. If we’ve had to spend all this time...trysting...I want to be sure someone pays.’
‘Trysting’s that bad, huh?’ The man was working fast. He was already edging Rachel away from Finn, fitting a harness ready to winch her
off the island.
‘It’s not so bad,’ Finn admitted, looking at Rachel—who blushed and looked back at him. Directly, meeting his gaze and smiling even more. Making his heart do that crazy twisting thing he was starting to get to know. Starting to like.
‘It’s had its moments,’ she agreed. ‘A couple of them weren’t too bad.’
Then she chuckled and she turned her attention to the harness—and Finn watched her being winched skyward and thought, Where do we go from here?
Back to reality.
Which was?
Back to the principles he’d followed all his adult life?
Maybe not.
Maybe things had changed for ever.
* * *
They were taken to a mining camp fifty miles inland, the closest place for refuelling, a barren, dusty camp in the middle of nowhere. One little red helicopter was waiting for them, and a woman who looked very like Rachel, who sobbed and sobbed and held her sister so tight Finn thought they might fuse.
The rescue personnel held back, giving them space. The pilot of the red chopper—introduced hastily by an overwrought Rachel as Hugo Thurston—gripped Finn’s hand and watched the women, and Finn thought this guy looked like he’d seen tough things before and he was soaking up what had just happened.
‘I couldn’t see this ending up good,’ he said gruffly. ‘And for us to find you... We figured we’d do the edges, the perimeter of the search range the big guys might miss. But how the hell did you get there? The tidal patterns...the currents...’
‘The ship was way off course.’
‘Which explains why you want to talk to the cops before we relay any message that you’re safe and well?’ Rachel’s future brother-in-law was sharp, Finn thought. As head of Thurston Holdings, he’d have to be.
Some time during the long hours Rachel had told him about Hugo. This was Dame Maud’s grandson, heir to the Thurston empire, but before he’d joined the family firm he’d trained and worked for years as a commando. It showed.
‘If I find you dragged her into this...’ Hugo said quite pleasantly, almost as if it were idle chat. ‘If I find you have one tiny finger in any drug-running pie...’
A Bride For The Maverick Millionaire (Journey Through The Outback #2) Page 11
