She should go on with Maud, Rachel thought, but she glanced at Maud and Maud grinned and waved goodbye and the thing was decided. Finn took her hand and she let him lead—wherever he wanted to take her.
They climbed and what they found at the top was worth the struggle. It was worth letting Finn help her up the steep scree. Acknowledging she needed help and acknowledging she didn’t mind leaning on this man.
It was even worth the reaction from the rest of the passengers that they were now an acknowledged couple.
* * *
Finn had been here before. He knew the best pool—the one furthest from anywhere, at the far reaches of Jason’s whistle. He led Rachel to its edge, and she stared in fascination into its depths.
The low sun-burned bush-scape gave each pool privacy and she could hear giggles and whoops from afar as each couple figured that here was unexpected freedom on such a supervised tour. For there was nothing except crystal-clear water—and bush-land for privacy—and rocks.
Rachel looked into the pool’s depths as if she was looking at rock structure. She was looking at rock structure.
‘I can feel a lecture coming on,’ Finn groaned, and grinned and tugged off his T-shirt and slid down into the depths. He sank until his feet hit the sandy bottom, then surfaced right by where Rachel was sitting. He hauled himself part way out of the water, looked attentively up at her and cocked his head. ‘Go ahead, miss, I’m all ears. What are we looking at?’
‘Rocks.’
‘What else?’
‘And water.’
‘I’ve come all this way to learn that?’
‘You need to start somewhere.’
‘Ah, but you’ve already taught me stuff. I thought I’d graduated to Rocks 102.’
‘Not if you’re going to mock me.’
‘I would never mock you.’
‘You’d laugh at me.’
‘I’d laugh with you,’ he said softly. ‘There is a difference.’
She looked down at him for a long, long moment. Things were changing between them. He was asking her to trust, he thought, and for this woman it was a big ask.
What was going on in her head? How much had that creep of a husband hurt her?
To lose a child... He couldn’t begin to fathom such loss. Such hurt.
He’d never hurt as she had. He’d never known such grief.
His mother had been bruised by one ghastly betrayal and never got over it. She’d been a shadow on the periphery of his life, and her death had been a loss but not a gut-wrenching grief.
His grandparents were different—there was never a doubt that they loved him and he loved them right back—but they were middle-aged when they’d had their only daughter, and by the time Finn was born they were already approaching old age.
Their deaths had been a natural attrition, timely, and although he’d grieved for them, he hadn’t felt aching loss.
A loss such as Rachel had faced.
He looked up at Rachel now and he thought he didn’t know how to deal with it. He didn’t know how she could deal with it.
If she’d been his mother or his grandmother, she’d have wilted without trace.
But Rachel wasn’t wilting.
For suddenly Rachel’s expression changed. Some inner decision had been reached. Before he realised what she intended, she slipped, fully clothed, into the water beside him.
She looped her arms around his neck and she tilted her chin.
‘I know there’s a difference,’ she said softly. ‘It’s just sometimes I can’t remember. I need to be reminded.’
‘How can I remind you?’
‘If you can’t guess,’ she said softly, ‘then 102 is way beyond your intelligence. Try.’
So what was a man to do but stop thinking—and try?
How could a man not?
To convince her he was serious... To convince her she was special... There was only one action that could possibly meet the criteria.
A kiss.
So do it.
What followed was some very serious silence while they explored this kiss. It was different to the kisses they’d exchanged on the island. Those had been kisses of isolation, of fear, of need.
This was a kiss of exploration, an acknowledgement that this could be the beginning of a future that was not all about terror and mutual comfort.
It was far, far more than that.
For this woman did something to him that he’d never experienced. She hadn’t bothered with a swimsuit—why, when clothes dried on you in half an hour? She was wearing shorts and her customary oversized shirt, but in the water they seemed almost to disappear.
He’d caught her as she’d slipped into the water. He held her around her waist and he could feel her body against his. He could feel every lovely curve of her, and she felt...she felt as if she was melting into him.
She felt as if she was part of him.
Her mouth was on his and it was Rachel who was doing the kissing, Rachel who was doing the demanding. She was pressuring his mouth to open, demanding to explore, and he let her do what she willed, glorying in her assertiveness, glorying in this woman he’d so wrongly stereotyped.
She wanted him—and he wanted her right back.
If the water had been deep they could have drowned, he thought, for surely he didn’t have attention left to pay to such detail as breathing. As it was, he was shoulder-deep in water, deep enough to support her, to hold her to him, to fold her into him and kiss her and kiss her and kiss her.
He heard her whimper, and it was as if it came from a long way away. Her hands were in his hair, dragging him to her, deepening the kiss, desperate to be close.
Deeper and deeper... Closer and closer...
He was turning slowly in the water, and her legs were around his hips. Her whole body clung. Her whole body was surrendering.
‘Finn...’ It was a desperate, ragged whisper between kisses, and he felt his whole body shudder in recognition of naked need.
‘I can’t...we should have... Oh, Finn, I want you.’ Her words were half spoken, half understood, for her claim to him was growing more fierce by the moment. ‘I want...’
And so did he. His hands were under her shirt, inside the cups of her bra, feeling the fullness, the taut, aching need...
He’d never wanted anything more than he wanted Rachel at this moment.
He’d never want anything again.
The water was cool, which was just as well, as his body was burning and his brain had misted into an opaque fog where the only thing he knew was his desire.
Rachel...
‘We can’t...Finn, we can’t...’ It was a sigh of despair—and it was enough for the mist to clear. For just a moment. Just.
‘I believe,’ he managed, in a voice ragged with want, ‘that my wallet’s lying up there on the rock.’
‘Your wallet...’ Somehow she managed to pull away, just a little. She was still holding close and her legs weren’t loosening their hold. Her nose was two inches from his. ‘Is there...maybe a corner store around here where we can buy what we need?’
‘I might have packed what we need,’ he admitted, wondering how she’d take it. ‘I mean...they’re the sort of things most single guys carry with them—in case.’
‘You didn’t have them on the island.’ She sounded stunned.
‘I forgot to ask if I could go back to my cabin and fetch my wallet before they threw us overboard,’ he told her. ‘Stupid, I know. Does today make up for it?’
‘As in...making up for it by telling me you have condoms in your wallet.’
‘Condom,’ he said mournfully. ‘I wasn’t that hopeful.’
‘So...just once?’ she whispered, awed.
‘Before Jason blows hi
s whistle.’
‘He said maybe an hour.’ Her legs were tightening even further and her hands... Her hands...
He was losing his mind here.
‘An hour,’ he said and groaned and fell backward into the water so she was floating on top of him. Each of them was doing what they must—and only what they must—to stay afloat but it was a joint effort.
They’d fused and he wasn’t letting go.
‘I need to reach my wallet,’ he murmured and she sighed and kissed him until they did go under and had to surface to splutter and find air.
‘My wallet—and air,’ he managed.
‘Air’s optional,’ she managed back. ‘But the wallet... Tell you what... You see that nice sandy bank ten feet away?’
‘Barely.’
‘Try,’ she said. ‘Try very hard. It’s important.’
‘Because?’
‘Because it’s a rendezvous point,’ she told him. ‘The best Boy Scouts always plan ahead and I know I’m not a Boy Scout but I’m planning anyway. If we get separated, we make our way individually to the rendezvous point.’
‘Sounds a plan,’ he said, and kissed her for good measure. ‘Should we agree on a time?’
‘How about as soon as possible?’ she murmured. ‘How about as soon as you find what’s in that wallet and as soon as I can figure how to get this bra undone?’
‘No need,’ he said and kissed her long and deep, with an aching, sensual pleasure he’d never felt before and had no idea he was capable of feeling. ‘Even Cub Scouts are taught fastenings. I am so prepared.’
‘Not until you have that wallet,’ she murmured and pushed him away. ‘Now. Fast.’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ he said and swam hard to the rock where he’d left his wallet, found what he needed and turned back to her.
To find—she’d done all her unfastening herself.
The sight took his breath away—the woman he desired more than anything in the world, naked on the sand, half in and half out of the water.
‘We’re on whistle deadline,’ she said and she smiled across the waterhole at him, making his heart twist. Making all of him twist. ‘Come to me,’ she said.
And he did.
* * *
The whistle was delayed. Whether the caves proved more interesting than expected, or whether Jason was a true romantic, who could say? All Rachel knew was that Finn’s one condom was stretched to the limit and she’d never felt so happy. Ever.
They were lying on the soft sun-warmed sand, half in and half out of the water, sated with loving. ‘We look like crumbed rissoles,’ Finn said lovingly, who knew when, and they rolled back into the water and washed off their coating and then proceeded to put it back on.
She felt warm, sleepy, sated—wonderful. She felt loved. She lay in Finn’s arms, she felt his heartbeat under hers and she felt as if she’d never known until now what happiness was.
He was true, she thought blissfully. Her one true thing.
With Ramón, even as she’d married him, she’d known he’d kept a part of himself apart. ‘I’m an artist,’ he’d told her. ‘I need personal space.’
That personal space, she’d found out later, hadn’t been filled with solitude.
He’d smashed her trust. He’d killed her baby, and she’d thought she could never trust again.
She could never love again.
And here she was...loving.
She stirred in Finn’s arms and he tugged her closer and kissed her so deeply she felt she should melt. She’d never felt this close to a man. She’d never felt this close...
‘Maybe Jason’s whistle’s broken,’ she whispered and she felt his chuckle rather than heard it.
‘What a tragedy. Let’s not care. We have fresh water, I can build fires and you can cook lizards. What more do we want?’
‘We might run out of sunscreen after a while,’ she managed, and wriggled closer still. Skin against skin... It was the most erotic sensation in the world. ‘And there is the matter of just one condom.’
‘I was prepared,’ he said, sounding wounded. ‘Just not prepared enough. Who could expect I’d meet a nymph like you in a place like this?’
‘Seeing you brought your nymph with you...’
‘There is that,’ he said and kissed her again. ‘But I’m even more prepared than last time. I also have a satellite phone on my belt. I can ring for an air drop.’
‘Of condoms?’
‘That’s the one.’
She giggled. ‘Can you imagine the cost of getting one carton airlifted to the northern tip of the Kimberley? And what do we pay with? Barbecued lizards?’
‘I have my credit card.’ He’d ceased kissing her lips. He was kissing other places. Lower. Lower.
She was on fire, her whole body screaming its need to be closer...closer...
‘I suspect...I suspect even with credit cards it might be out of the range of one hasn’t-been-employed-for-a-year geologist and one security officer,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Finn...’
But he paused. His kisses ceased and he shifted so he held her loosely, his arms around her waist. They were curved together on the soft sand. Far above, an osprey wheeled lazily in the thermals, but beyond there was nothing.
There were more rock pools, more couples but in this magic place sound didn’t travel. Nothing travelled.
* * *
He couldn’t do this, he thought. Even though the condom had been in his wallet, he hadn’t thought it would go this far.
He’d never dreamed she could love him so completely.
She had. She did. She’d told him everything about herself, and he...he hadn’t been honest.
If he was to love this woman—and he did—the time to be honest was right now.
Now and for ever...
* * *
‘We might be the first man and the first woman...’ Rachel whispered and then she saw Finn’s expression. ‘What’s wrong?’
‘Rachel, love, I need to tell you something,’ he said. ‘What you said just then... Enough. I should have been honest with you earlier. I didn’t intend...that we get this close so soon.’
‘You’re about to tell me you’re married?’ She’d meant it to be a joke, but it came out a bit breathless, a bit scared. His expression said something was wrong. ‘Finn?’
‘I’m not married, Rachel,’ he told her. ‘But I have been less than honest. I’m not a security officer.’
There was a silence. A silence that stretched and stretched. She looked at him for a long time, studying his face. Trying to work things out.
‘Then you’re a cop,’ she said at last. ‘You said...’
‘I said I wasn’t a cop.’
‘Then what?’ Why did it matter? He could be an idle dilettante, she thought and it shouldn’t matter.
It shouldn’t.
‘I own the cruise line,’ he said and her world stilled.
‘You own...’
‘I own the Kimberley Temptress, plus eight other cruise ships. My father inherited ships from my grandfather. Big ships. He pretty much gambled and womanised away his fortune, but there was enough left at the end for me to consolidate into this line.’
She let his words sink in. The stillness was suddenly oppressive, loaded with menace. It was as if her past had suddenly crashed into this perfect morning, and it was all around her.
She watched his face, and she thought this shouldn’t matter. But then, overriding sense, memories slammed back, as unwanted as they were uncalled for.
‘So I lied? What’s the big deal? This is the truth, now, Rachel, baby. You can believe this.’
Ramón, lying and lying, over and over again.
You can believe this.
‘You...you lied?’ It was a
s much as she could do to get the words out, but, as she managed it, the pain of the last few years slammed back with a force that felt like a physical blow. She’d thought never to say those words again. She’d sworn never to be in the position to need to.
‘I didn’t lie...’
‘That’s semantics,’ she snapped because she knew this ruse, too. I didn’t lie... Sometimes Ramón hadn’t. Sometimes he’d led her to assume things.
‘You made me believe you were a security officer,’ she whispered.
‘I inherited my father’s fortune,’ he said. ‘It changed my life. I came on this cruise undercover to try and figure what was happening on the ship, so in a sense I have been a security officer. But there’s more. There’s a deeper reason I haven’t been honest. Rachel, for some dumb reason...as soon as I got to know you, I wanted to be like I was before. Finn Kinnard, boat-builder, making my own way. I know I can’t go back to that. I know it shouldn’t matter, but it seemed...what was between us was too important to mess with by telling you what I owned.’
‘You told me what you thought I wanted to hear?’
‘No.’
‘You did,’ she said, suddenly bleak. ‘I’m used to that.’
‘Rachel...’
‘You’re right, it shouldn’t matter,’ she whispered. ‘It shouldn’t change anything, that you let me believe you’re a security officer. How is it that everything in me is screaming that it does?’
And, before he could respond, she rolled back into the water, diving under its clear depths and swimming strongly across to the ledge where her clothes lay. She needed distance. She needed to get away from the nightmare of those memories.
They were overwhelming. They made her feel ill.
The nightmares were nothing to do with Finn—but she couldn’t escape them.
She hauled herself out of the water and tugged on shorts and shirt with hands that wouldn’t stop trembling.
‘Rachel...’ He swam across to join her but he didn’t emerge from the water. He held the rock at her feet and looked up at her. ‘Rachel, it’s no big deal.’
Of all the things he could have said, it needed only that.
A Bride For The Maverick Millionaire (Journey Through The Outback #2) Page 13
