Breaking All Their Rules

by Sue MacKay

  ‘You sure you weren’t a caveman in a previous life?’ She laughed.

  ‘Weren’t we all?’ He unravelled the line and threw it as far as possible.

  ‘I don’t know. This whole “me man, me like hunting-gathering thing”—it’s like men are born that way. I prefer going to a supermarket.’

  Winding the line in as Donny had taught him, he grinned. ‘The urge lurks below the skin, waiting for opportunities to show our women what wonderful providers and protectors we are.’

  ‘So when women fish or hunt, what are they proving?’

  ‘You’ve just flipped the argument. If I said that women are trying to prove they’re as good as us I’d get my head knocked off, right?’

  ‘I’ll go and get my club.’

  ‘Before you do, I admit that there are females who love all that outdoor activity as much as their menfolk, and some of them are very good at shooting deer or pig and catching a fish.’

  A soft punch was delivered to his bicep. Olivia nodded along the beach. ‘The score so far is locals three, visitor none.’

  Zac tapped his chest with his fist. ‘She wounds so easily.’ He loved it when she was being cheeky and not considering every word before uttering it.

  ‘If you can feel anything on the end of your line it’s probably a pebble. There’s your hook.’ She peered at the water’s edge, her grin wicked, making his toes curl with longing.

  ‘This time.’ He hurled the line out once more and began winding it back in.

  ‘I don’t think so,’ Olivia said beside him.

  ‘How do you know?’

  Throw it out, bring it in. There was a timeless rhythm to this and, yes, he was enjoying fishing with the men.

  ‘You’ve got another pebble.’

  It took a second but he finally remembered where he was and what he was doing. ‘This time,’ he assured the disbelieving woman.

  ‘Hey, Donny,’ Olivia called. ‘Zac’s last fish must’ve been beginner’s luck.’

  Glancing over his shoulder, Zac nodded to the Fijian. ‘Donny, don’t listen to a word she says. I’ve got this.’

  He was relieved the man had shown up. He and Olivia had agreed this might be the best place to talk to Donny about Josaia. Olivia had also suggested that he do the talking at first, man to man, so to speak.

  Zac heard Olivia say, ‘Hello, Josaia,’ and his disappointment rose. They could not talk about surgery in front of the boy. Damn.

  But Olivia had her ways. ‘Josaia, can you help me find a shell to take home? One of those small conches would be good.’ She waited for Josaia’s reply, looking at him as she would any other child.

  ‘I know where the best shells are.’ He spoke hesitantly, as though expecting Olivia to withdraw from him any second.

  ‘Cool. Let’s go. Hopefully, by the time we get back Zac will have finally caught a fish.’

  ‘Granddad catches them all the time.’ Josaia bounced along beside Olivia, looking up at her so often he tripped over his own feet.

  Donny watched them walk away. ‘She’s kind.’

  ‘She is. She’s also genuine.’

  ‘I can see that. So can Josaia. He wouldn’t have gone with her otherwise. He’s learned to be wary of people’s empty gestures.’ Sadness lined Donny’s statement.

  Flicking the line out again, Zac said without preamble, ‘You know we’re doctors?’

  ‘I wondered. Neither of you flinched when you saw Josaia, like you’re used to seeing disfiguring scars.’

  Zac was relieved. He’d thought he might’ve shown his feelings for the kid’s predicament far too much. ‘Olivia’s a plastic surgeon.’

  Donny turned to stare after his grandson again. ‘What about you? Do you work in the same field?’

  ‘I’m an orthopaedic surgeon.’

  The man spun around to stare at him. ‘Are you pulling my leg? Because if you are and my grandson learns…’ He spluttered to a stop, unable to voice his anger.

  Placing a hand on Donny’s arm, Zac said, ‘I am speaking the truth. We want to help Josaia.’

  Donny gasped a few deep breaths, rubbed his forearm across his face. ‘We don’t have enough money. That’s why our son-in-law works in Australia. He’s trying to save for an operation for Josaia but…’ Donny shook his head.

  The line was getting into a tangle since Zac had stopped winding. Concentrating on sorting it out, he told the proud man, ‘Let’s start at the beginning and work from there. If it’s okay with you, we’d like to look at Josaia’s injuries and request copies of his medical records.’

  His statement was met with silence. Could he have approached Donny differently? Might as well lay it all out. If he’d got it wrong then he had nothing to lose. ‘We think it’s probably best if Josaia has surgery in Auckland, where both of us practise.’

  ‘You make it sound so easy.’

  ‘I do know a thing or two about the New Zealand health system.’

  Donny gripped Zac’s hand. ‘Thank you. I am glad you caught that trevally. It has brought my family much good luck.’

  Zac grinned. ‘Maybe that’s why I haven’t caught one today. There’s only so much luck out there and we’ve used up our share for a while.’

  *

  Once Donny had talked with his wife and daughter, and explained everything to Josaia, he brought the lad to the bure.

  ‘At the time of the accident we were told by a visiting doctor that plastic surgery would make the scar less visible and the lumps could be removed.’

  ‘Has Josaia seen anyone else about this?’

  ‘There aren’t any plastic surgeons in Fiji. But, please, you can look today. Josaia likes you, he won’t be a problem.’

  ‘He found me a shell to take home.’ She’d treasure it, as long as she could take it through quarantine at Auckland Airport. ‘Hey, Josaia, can I touch your cheek?’

  The boy nodded solemnly.

  The muscle was tight and knobbly under her fingers. ‘Open your mouth wide,’ she instructed Josaia. Inside there was further scarring. ‘I can do something to improve this.’ She stepped back to allow Zac space.

  ‘Josaia, show me how far you can move your arm,’ Zac instructed.

  Donny talked as his grandson moved his arm back and forth. ‘It’s tight. He can’t move it far. Tendons were severed by the arrow of the gun and sewn back together shorter than before.’

  ‘Will you make me better?’ Josaia asked them, his eyes wide with hope.

  Olivia answered, ‘Would you like us to try?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘You would have to go to hospital again.’

  ‘Will it hurt?’

  Zac nodded. ‘Yes, I’m sorry, but we’ll give you something to stop most of the pain.’

  Donny spoke quietly. ‘I would like to accept your help, but how do we pay for this?’

  Olivia wanted to wrap him in her arms and say Don’t worry, everything will be all right, except she didn’t want to trample on this family’s pride. So she dodged some of the question. ‘If we go ahead, would it be all right with you if we did the operations as a gift to Josaia?’

  Donny blinked, ran a hand over his face. ‘Why would you do that?’

  ‘Part of what I like about being a doctor is helping people, giving them second chances, and Josaia deserves one.’ Goodness, she’d be crying next.

  Zac must’ve sensed her problem because he leaned closer so that his arm touched hers, and told Donny, ‘Children shouldn’t be disadvantaged because of someone else’s mistake.’

  ‘What can I say?’ Donny asked in such a strangled voice Olivia smiled.

  ‘You gave us a beautiful meal in your home. You might think there’s no comparison but being welcomed into your house, meeting all your family, sharing that dinner with you was an experience we’ll both remember for ever.’ Now a tear did leak from the corner of Olivia’s eye and trek down her face.

  Donny reached for her hands, gripped them tight. ‘Thank you so much. It�
�s been hard, you know, watching my Josaia turn into a quiet, withdrawn version of himself. I will ring his father and tell him the good news. He’ll be so happy.’

  No pressure.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  ‘THERE’S A BAND playing tonight,’ Zac called from the outdoor shower box, where he was towelling himself dry.

  ‘What sort of band?’ Olivia asked from the bathroom, where she was apparently putting on her face.

  Why she did that when her skin was clear and her face naturally beautiful he did not understand. But he knew not to say a word. ‘It’s a surprise.’

  ‘Which means you have no idea.’ She chuckled.

  That sound, relaxed and happy, did things to him. Made him wish for more with Olivia: for a future, to be able to wake up every morning with her lying beside him, if not tangled around him. To know she’d be there for him, day in day out, and that he’d have her back all the time would be amazing. Right. Not that he didn’t have her back already, but sometimes he didn’t know what he was protecting her from.

  ‘Something like that,’ he agreed, as he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed into the main room. ‘Anything from locals to visiting rock stars. I heard a whisper about two guys and their guitars.’

  Olivia leaned around the corner, her hair swinging over her arm, her face lit up with a big smile. ‘That narrows the options.’

  ‘Better than bongo drums at any rate.’

  She just laughed and disappeared back into the bathroom.

  If only they weren’t going to dinner but staying here, checking out that enormous bed for what it was intended. He was done playing Mr Nice Guy on the far side. While wonderful, the spooning hadn’t been enough, more a teaser of what could have been. Pulling on a shirt, he sighed. One more night. Tomorrow they would fly out of here in a float plane, headed for the airport. This had been a fabulous few days. Continuing to get to know each other seemed the way forward.

  ‘I heard that there’s going to be lobster on the menu tonight.’ Olivia bounced into the room, her hands busy slipping earrings into her lobes.

  His hands faltered, stopped, buttons ignored. ‘You look stunning.’

  The red dress she’d somehow squeezed into accentuated all those lovely curves to perfection.

  ‘You think?’ She spun around on her tiptoes. ‘Not my usual style.’

  Her cleavage had never been so—so… His mouth dried. The back of the dress—there wasn’t any. Nothing worth mentioning anyway. Was it really a dress when there was hardly any more fabric than in the blue and lime-green bikini she’d lounged around in all day? The hemline barely made it onto her thighs. ‘So not you.’

  Her smile dipped. ‘Should I change?’

  Zac’s heart stopped. He stepped across the gap between them, caught her hands in his, and tugged her close. Not so close that they were touching. Then they’d never go to dinner. But close enough that he could breathe in her scent. ‘I have never seen you look so, so beautiful. Ravishing. And before you go thinking you’re not beautiful all the time, you absolutely are. I’m going to order you more dresses like that.’

  ‘You say the nicest things.’ Her smile was back. ‘I’ve always wanted to go all out and wear something like this but don’t often have the courage. That creation I wore on the night of the gala was the first in a long time. You make me feel it’s okay, so for a moment there I got a bit worried.’

  ‘I’m a bloke. Clear and concise speech isn’t one of my strong points.’ He dropped her hands. He needed to finish dressing if they were ever going to head to the restaurant.

  But one button done up and Olivia was laughing at him. ‘Let me.’ She undid the button, realigned his shirt front and started over. Her fingers were light as they worked down his shirt. Over his chest. Down to his abs—which were sucking in on themselves and just about touching his spine.

  Zac gritted his teeth, and his hands clenched at his sides. She was killing him. Cell by damned cell.

  ‘Relax,’ she said in a low, throaty growl.

  Oh, right. Sure. Easy as. He took an unsteady step back and snatched up his trousers from the bed, and muttered, ‘Relax, she says.’

  Olivia did wicked without even trying. Her mouth curved into a sumptuous smile, her eyes widened with promise as she slapped her hands on those slim hips. ‘How soon can you get me those new dresses? I never knew wearing something so simple could have this effect on a man.’ Her eyes widened even further, her smile grew bigger. ‘Not just any man either.’

  ‘There is nothing simple about you or your damned dress.’

  ‘Damned dress, huh?’ Her gaze cruised down his body, pausing at his obvious reaction to that piece of fabric that was in danger of being torn off her. ‘This is our last night.’

  Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted to ten, slowly. Nothing changed. He continued to twenty. His blood still pulsed throughout his body, heating every cell it touched. Finally he drew a shaky breath and locked eyes with her before growling, ‘Last night, last cocktail and final dinner under the palms, last of everything to do with our holiday.’

  Last of that stupid ban on sex. Whoa, did that mean they could get up close and personal tomorrow? As soon as they landed back in Auckland could they go straight to his apartment? Or her house? He didn’t care which as long as he could scratch this itch.

  Olivia just laughed and picked up a pair of red shoes with heels that would be lethal if flung at a guy. ‘Let’s go enjoy ourselves.’

  At least she had the sense not to hold his hand or slip her arm through his as they walked along the path to the restaurant. If she had Zac doubted his ability not to swing her up into his arms and run back to their bure. Last evening or not.

  *

  ‘We’ve been given the best table.’ Olivia glanced around the outdoor dining area as she sank onto the chair being held out for her by their waiter. The table was set well back from everyone else with hibiscus growing on three sides, soft light from lanterns making it feel as though they were in a bubble. A very cosy bubble.

  Zac blinked. Was he still trying to get his libido under control? ‘Maybe it’s our turn.’

  Every other night honeymooners had sat here. She and Zac didn’t have that qualification. ‘I feel special.’

  ‘What can I get you to drink?’ the waiter asked.

  Zac didn’t ask her what she preferred, instead rattled off the name of the best champagne on the wine list. ‘We’re celebrating,’ he told her when the young man had gone.

  ‘Celebrating?’

  ‘Anything and everything.’ He leaned forward, those dark eyes suddenly serious. ‘I haven’t had such a wonderful holiday, ever. Thank you.’

  Her eyes filled with unexpected tears. ‘I didn’t do anything.’ Except tease the hell out of you back in the bure.

  ‘Exactly. You were just you, and I’d never met that you before.’

  A tear escaped. Then another. She quickly lifted her glass of water to her lips. What was with this crying stuff? She was usually stronger than that.

  ‘You’re supposed to reciprocate, tell me how you’ve discovered a superman.’

  Then the champagne arrived. ‘Compliments of management,’ the waitress told them.

  ‘This isn’t anything to do with Josaia?’ Zac asked.

  A huge smile split the woman’s face. ‘Enjoy your evening.’

  When Olivia had a glass in her hand she raised it to Zac. ‘To us and our fabulous holiday.’ This experience had loosened a lot of permanent knots inside her. She and Zac had gelled so well she was even wondering if it might be possible to have a life together in some way. She wanted to ask if they might continue seeing each other back in Auckland, but the old warning bells rattled in her skull, putting a dampener on that. Just enjoy tonight and wait for tomorrow to unfold. But she didn’t do waiting to see what happened. That meant no control.

  Zac tapped his glass on hers. ‘We haven’t finished yet. Our plane doesn’t leave until ten in the morning.’

 
; ‘Okay, to the rest of our stay in paradise.’ Excitement shimmied down her spine. One more night. Dinner under the stars, maybe some dancing if the band of two turned out to be halfway decent, a stroll on the beach after ditching her heels, and then… Then she planned on seducing Zac into using that enormous bed for something other than spooning.

  *

  Those picks Olivia called shoes swung from one of her hands while she held onto him firmly with the other. ‘There’s something about walking on sand at night.’ Her voice was a murmur, drifting on the warm, still air, encasing Zac in tenderness.

  The need he’d barely been holding onto spilled through him, hissed out between them. It would not be contained any more. After days of bikinis and figure-hugging dresses, laughter and fun, he had to have Olivia—in his arms, under his body. He ached to fill her, to kiss her senseless. But there was that damned rule. He would not be the one to break it. He’d given his word. Never again was he going to make a promise. About anything. Tugging his hand free, Zac went for flippant. Only way to go. ‘Who wouldn’t love damp sand between their toes, scratchy and irritating? Wonderful stuff.’

  Olivia’s laughter was so carefree it tugged at his heart. She glanced down at their bare feet and dropped her shoes. ‘Come on, then. Let’s wash the sand off.’ And in a flash her dress was being flung onto the sand beside those red picks. ‘Coming?’

  ‘You’re such a tease, Olivia Coates-Clark,’ Zac growled, even as he tore his shirt over his head. Talk about upping the ante. His failing self-control would never cope, and yet he followed her towards the sea, nearly falling flat on his face as he ran down the beach while trying to step out of his trousers at the same time.

  Plunging into the warm water, he swam towards Olivia, who seemed to be treading water too far out. ‘Hey,’ he growled. ‘Stop right there.’

  ‘Or what?’ She laughed and began swimming away.

  Zac poured on the speed and quickly caught her, catching her around the waist and pulling her to him. ‘Or I’ll have to kiss you senseless.’ She felt good. That compact, smooth body slip-sliding against his. Cranking up his lust. As if that was hard to do.