“You’re wearing red knickers,” he said under his breath.
She gasped and tugged down her tiny skirt.
“Not that I’m complaining, you understand.” He enjoyed her look of confusion. He liked her hot and flustered. He liked how her gaze snared with his and her hand froze a second on that ridiculously short skirt. “But there are children here.”
Children of friends, family and neighbours. Gran kept an open house. But for a few moments they all faded into the background as sensual awareness locked Grace and him in their own world. His body tensed as her lips parted in a natural pout that magazine models tried and failed to emulate; all invitation and longing.
Then a kid shrieked.
“I never thought I’d be building a sandcastle.” Grace glanced down at her dress, which thanks to her pulling had stretched to near decency on her thighs, but at the cost of a provocatively low neckline.
She hitched up the neckline.
“You should know to expect the unexpected from Gran.” He added another bucket of sand to the approval of the busy kids. He liked occupying the littlies, even if he was currently wishing for an empty beach and time to explore that moment with Grace.
“I think I’ll supervise,” she said.
“Spoilsport.”
She sat in the shade of an umbrella and a tired three year old immediately curled up near her. Grace put her arm around him.
The scene tugged at Saul’s heart. He wanted his kid to have that; a soul-deep trust that he was loved and wanted. He knelt there, bucket half-filled with sand, watching Grace smile down at the boy and smooth the dark curls that lay against the curve of her breast. His gut tightened.
“More.” An imperative childish treble recalled him to his castle-building duties.
A game of beach cricket for the older kids — and adults — finished the afternoon. He and Grace stayed for a barbeque dinner. He noticed her high colour on occasion when a particularly tactless relative studied them together — the formerly engaged couple who couldn’t even agree on whether they’d been engaged. But despite how the family grapevine had gossiped, there seemed to be a general acceptance that things were okay now. He and Grace were friends again.
“No, seriously, Auntie JayJay. I couldn’t eat any more. I shouldn’t have even had the second slice of cheesecake.” Grace tried to ward off more food. Auntie JayJay wrote cookbooks and was always looking for guinea pigs.
“I had thirds,” Saul said smugly.
“Piglet.” Grace jabbed him in the ribs.
In laughter and friendly chatter, the party broke up. He helped with the clean-up and went to haul Grace out of the kitchen. “I thought you were full.”
“Oops.” She looked up guiltily from the chocolate truffles she’d been snacking on. ”These are good. Try one.”
She pressed the chocolate to his mouth and his lips parted instinctively. The chocolate was sweet, but what exploded in his belly was the feel of her finger and thumb at his mouth.
Her eyes widened, as if she’d shocked herself with the impulsive action.
Before she could snatch her hand away, he caught her wrist. He chewed the chocolate, watching her all the time, swallowed and said, “Crumbs.”
“What?” She sounded dazed.
“Do I have chocolate crumbs?” He dabbed at his mouth with her finger.
“Oh.” She got the idea. Her finger trailed along his upper lip, outlining it. “Just here and here.” She pressed her finger to the centre of his lower lip before lifting her finger to her mouth and sucking off the chocolate.
It was so damn sexy, he growled.
Instantly, she spun away, making a big deal of covering the plate of truffles and tucking it in the second fridge. Her face was flushed. She completely forgot not to bend over, and he was gifted with a flash of her red knickers. “I guess we should get going.”
Probably. Gran’s kitchen wasn’t the place to seduce a woman, or be seduced by her. Especially not Grace, who was special.
Neither said anything as they started along the beach.
Saul shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts. He’d walked back to his house with other women. Not many. Eagle Bay was for family. Casual dates didn’t get an invitation. But none of the other women had generated the confusing mix of familiarity and uncertainty, desire and disbelief that Grace caused in him.
She was his step-cousin. He’d felt protective of her from their first meeting when she’d been a cute, shy kid wary of the boisterous Whartons. Now she was all grown up, a doctor and a woman, an attractive, sexy woman.
Ryan had noticed she was a woman.
Saul’s possessive response to the younger man’s awareness of Grace surprised him. He hadn’t planned on insisting she stay with him at his house. However, there’d been no way he could stand her driving off with her step-sister’s fiancé.
She claimed she didn’t care about Ryan. What was it she’d said? Something about wanting a nice man.
“The beach is magic.” Grace slowed and looked out to sea. Moonlight glinted off the softly lapping waves. “Next stop, Africa.”
“It would be a long swim.”
“I’d hitch a ride on a whale or maybe on one of those giant tortoises.”
He wasn’t in the mood for whimsy. “Grace.”
“Yes?”
“Oh hell.” He abandoned common sense, second thoughts and all attempt to regulate his chaotic emotions, and reached for her.
She was shorter than him, but the sand was uneven and he lifted her onto a low ridge, bringing their mouths almost level.
“Is there a problem?” she asked, breathless from his nearness.
He moved his hands from her waist to her hips. “Not if you kiss me.”
The moonlight showed her expression. Surprise. Confusion. Sudden decision. She touched his face and he stood still for the slow caress. She shifted slightly, rising on tiptoe, and fitted her mouth to his.
He forgot to breathe.
Her mouth was soft, warm and sweet. Tender.
Slowly he took control of the kiss from her. He coaxed her lips apart, licked and sucked the plump lower lip, then slid his tongue into her mouth.
She moaned and twisted her hands in his hair.
He widened his stance and fitted her between his thighs. She was leaning forward now and he was taking most of her weight, glorying in it. Her skirt ruched up and he cupped the fullness of her bottom, kneading it and enjoying the way she writhed in response, rubbing against him.
She sucked on his tongue and his hips jerked in unstoppable instinct, but it was a mistake. Precariously balanced as they were, the action set him staggering. He might have kept his balance, if he’d released her. Instead, he let himself fall backwards and she toppled with him into the shelter of the dunes.
”Are you okay?” she asked huskily. Her hands could have been checking him for injuries. But that little arch of her hips, that full body shiver, that was pure turned-on pleasure.
“Never better.” He tugged at her dress, lost patience and broke a strap. One small, perfect breast tumbled free. He lifted her up, positioning her in total, selfish greed and sucked on the tight nipple.
The world exploded around them and lighted up the beach.
Grace yelped and pulled away. She grabbed at her dress and held it up. Behind her, fireworks lit up the sky.
“Fireworks.” He closed his eyes a moment in frustration. It was fairly obvious the mood was broken, but his body was still in the zone. He exhaled deeply, trying to unclench muscles ready for action. “Damn kids.”
With the bushfire risk, fireworks were banned, but a few idiots always seemed to find some anyhow — and let them off.
“Anyone could have seen us,” Grace whispered.
He decided he resented the horror in her voice. It would have been embarrassing, but not the end of the world. “We’re in the shadow of the dune.”
She scrambled to her feet awkwardly since one hand still held her torn dress in place.
“That was a mistake. I shouldn’t have kissed you. You shouldn’t have asked me to.”
More fireworks exploded.
She must have seen his grim expression. “Are you very upset?”
”Upset?” He caught her elbow and started them walking again. A fast march, this time. “As you said, this was my idea. There’s no reason I’d be upset, is there?”
She regarded him doubtfully, then faced forward and they completed the journey home in silence. In equal silence, they separated at the door and went to their lonely beds.
Saul frowned at the ceiling. He hoped Grace had enjoyed a cold shower because he sure as hell hadn’t.
Chapter 5
Grace woke early but lay listening to the small sounds of Saul moving around the house. Only when she heard him leave did she get up and see about her own breakfast. Thank goodness he was a surfer and the lure of the waves never failed. She didn’t know how she’d face him this morning.
Last night she’d been shameless. It was as if every fantasy, even the really forbidden ones, had been possible and she’d gone after them like a wild woman. The simmering attraction between her and Saul had exploded and she’d been all over him.
He’d been all over her, too, but then he’d have had his reasons. For herself, she’d learned that moonlit beaches were treacherous and enthralling in equal measures. They encouraged fantasies of romance that were downright dangerous.
She poured a bowl of cereal, spooned yoghurt over the top and sliced a banana over that. It was tricky, but she juggled the cereal bowl and a mug of coffee as she opened the door to the courtyard. The sheltered nook had a stone table and benches that looked out over the bay. Seaside daisies framed the paving. It would have been perfect, except for the lingering smell of bushfire smoke in the air and her thoughts.
“Good morning, Grace.”
“Ryan. Good morning.”
Her stepsister’s fiancé paused awkwardly, then left the pathway that linked the houses to join her at the table. “I saw Saul had gone surfing.”
The implication being that he’d timed his visit to find her alone. Awkward. She pushed aside her empty cereal bowl.
“Would you like a coffee?”
He shook his head. “You and Saul …”
”It’s too early in the day to talk about relationships,” she said firmly.
“Too early — or too late?” His mouth twisted and he reached a hand across the table to cover hers. “Grace, we were friends. When I met Carrie, she was so different. Her frivolity appealed to me. She’s glamorous.”
“Carrie is also kind and loyal.” She tried to withdraw her hand, and was shocked when his hold tightened. The smoke seemed to thicken in the air, that or the tension. She stared at him.
“I made a mistake.”
Saul surfed at least twice a week. It was why he’d bought his city apartment on the coast. He wouldn’t call surfing meditation, but it served the same purpose. Riding the waves, you lived in the moment. He made his best business decisions while surfing.
After his restless night, he’d barely waited for dawn to pull on a wetsuit and jog down to the beach.
If the fireworks hadn’t intruded, Grace and he would have made love. It would have changed everything between them. Neither of them was into recreational sex … so where had that burst of passion come from? She’d been as hot as him, and he’d been burning up.
He’d never felt anything as intense as his need for her.
He fell off the surfboard. Automatically he collected it, then sat on it to think. The waves moved him slowly to shore.
A man could be logical, even about emotion. In December, he’d impulsively claimed Grace as his fiancée. He’d been being kind, no matter what she thought. Then on New Year’s Eve, he’d stayed alone and reached the momentous resolution that this was the year he’d find a life partner. A wife. Then last night he’d kissed Grace on the beach as if he were starving for her.
Even a stupid man could connect the dots.
“I’m in love.”
A seagull paddling nearby ignored him.
He struck out for shore.
In love. That was why he couldn’t let Grace ignore him, couldn’t let her chat with Ryan, Mr Nice Guy. That was why he’d meddled in her hospital scheduled and basically kidnapped her.
He walked up the beach with the surfboard under his arm and water streaming down his body. He halted at the top of the path, staring at the tableau in his courtyard.
Ryan sat across the table from Grace, and he was holding her hand, saying. “I made a mistake.”
Saul set down the surfboard and the slight sound caught their attention. Two shocked faces gaped at him. “Don’t make a bigger mistake now,” he advised Ryan harshly.
The younger man released Grace’s hand instantly. “I … um...” He glanced at her, but she was very busy collecting her cereal bowl and mug. Without her support, he trailed off miserably. “I have to go.”
“Yes, you do,” Saul said grimly. He opened the door for Grace.
She stepped past him, careful not to touch him, and rinsed her dishes in the sink.
He leaned against a kitchen bench.
“You’re dripping.”
“That’s why the floor is concrete. It’ll survive.” A pause. “He wants you back.”
“Ryan never had me.”
“You thought he was your dream man.”
She smiled slightly, sadly. “No. I was lonely. I wanted to believe I could be important to someone.”
“Grace —” He started toward her, but she evaded him, putting the bench between them.
“You know how dangerous loneliness is,” she said. “You must have seen it last night. The way I responded to you.” She blushed but met his eyes. “Pathetic to be that eager. It took me by surprise.”
He froze. “Are you saying you used me last night? I don’t believe it. We weren’t anonymous bodies on the beach. You were responding to me.”
“I know. You’re gorgeous and I had a crush on you as a kid.”
”What?”
“I hid it.” A one shoulder shrug. “A romantic moonlit beach, my teenage hero.”
“Don’t. Don’t mock what we had.”
“I’m sorry, Saul. I’m apologising because you’re a good friend. Arrogant maybe.” Her attempt at a laugh failed. She glanced down at the yellow and green singlet and shorts she wore. “You made me so mad when you threw your weight around at the hospital, then used emotional guilt to get me here. I went out and bought a new wardrobe just to show you and everyone that I wasn’t the pathetic one in our supposed broken engagement. I even thought I could make you want me as a woman. I guess I did.”
His stomach was one tight, cold knot. “Is that how you see me, so arrogant and manipulative that you can play with me as if I have no emotions?”
“No!”
“Saul.” The shout preceded running footsteps. Alex, one of the teenagers, skidded in. “Your phone’s not working. They want you at the SES centre. There’s a new bushfire. Uncle Stuart’s waiting for you.”
“Ten minutes,” Saul said. He had to get rid of the wetsuit that was cold and clammy on his skin. Or maybe that was shock.
Grace didn’t love him. Hell, it sounded as if she didn’t even like him.
“I’m coming, too,” she followed him down the hallway. “First aid. There’ll be lots of smoke injuries. Can I borrow a t shirt?”
He found one of his tighter ones, left here over Christmas, and threw it at her.
“Saul.”
“Get dressed,” he said and began unzipping the suit.
Chapter 6
The SES centre was its usual organised chaos. People, Grace hadn’t seen in months greeted her cheerfully and asked about her medical studies. Cups of tea and sandwiches were available. The St Johns Ambulance officer accepted her offer of help. She’d worked with him before, even taken courses with him, and he knew she was accredited to assist. They bathed smoke-reddened eyes and dressed minor
burns.
The bushfire had apparently sprung out of nowhere.
”Fireworks,” more than one man growled. They wore their orange overalls and heavy boots and accepted Saul as one of their own. He’d been volunteering for years.
The SES chief was Tanya Ashanto and she ran a tight ship. Saul was sent out to the West Road sector.
Grace and Saul had driven to the centre with her stepfather, and his presence had effectively prevented them talking.
Her chest hurt, and she didn’t think the tightness was from the smoke in the air. She’d hurt Saul and she hadn’t meant to — she hadn’t thought she could.
What had she been trying to do? Prove to him and to herself that he wasn’t important?
The hours slipped by. The severity of the injuries increased and the easterly wind wouldn’t stop blowing. It was blustery and potentially lethal, driving the fire in huge jumps that laughed at the SES workers’ containment lines. Houses were lost and livestock burned alive.
Her stepfather came in with smoke inhalation. Nothing too dangerous, but there was no way he could go back out. She phoned her mum and had her come in and drive him home. He went, protesting.
Saul remained out in the West Road sector.
Grace took a five minute break and studied the latest chart. The fire was dangerous there. Chief Ashanto was talking of bringing the crews in.
The radio message silenced the centre.
”Truck overturned. Fire … West Road …”
“Saul!”
Her fellow St Johns Ambulance officer gripped her arm, keeping her upright, then keeping her from dashing off. “Wait,” he said harshly.
Chief Ashanto snapped out commands. She refused to let Grace accompany the rescue crew. “You’re too emotionally involved.”
The other first aid officer went, leaving Grace to tend injuries on auto-pilot. Her whole being strained to hear the news through the radio.
It was the worst time for mobile phone coverage to fail. One of the towers must have been damaged by the bushfire.
Some people laughed at the patriotism shown on Australia Day and questioned what it was the holiday celebrated. As Grace waited agonisingly for news of Saul, she could have told them. Australia Day was about the community supporting one another. Mateship meant more than sport and school friends. It was about being there for one another.
Mistaken Engagement Page 3
