Falling Again for Her Island Fling

by Ellie Darkins

  ‘So you lied to me.’ Her brow creased together in a way that made him uncomfortably aware that she was not going to take his answers at face value. Of course she wasn’t. When had she ever? She was too smart not to have figured this out. Not to keep probing at his feelings until he had revealed everything. But he was on his guard, and he wasn’t going to let her do that. ‘Even though I told you how hard it was, living with these holes in my memory.’

  ‘I tried not to lie,’ Guy said.

  Though in truth he hadn’t really tried that hard. He should have told her sooner. He saw that now. But he had been trying to protect her. He winced a bit at that thought. That wasn’t entirely honest, he acknowledged. She wasn’t the only one he was trying to protect.

  ‘You failed,’ she stated.

  He nodded. ‘And I’m sorry for that. There won’t be any more lies.’

  She held his gaze but didn’t answer for a long time.

  ‘I still don’t remember.’

  His face softened with sympathy. How could it not, in the face of what she had suffered, and the disappointment in her voice? ‘Did you think...?’

  ‘That my memories would be back in a flood? No, not really,’ she admitted, looking downcast. ‘But I’d hoped that maybe there’d be...something.’

  His arms ached to pull her in at seeing the despondency in her expression. He fought it, hard, and spoke instead. ‘You said you knew that we were together before. How did you know that?’

  She shrugged, blushing a little. ‘You were behaving strangely. I just guessed the reason.’ She looked away, though, which made him think that this time she was the one keeping secrets.

  Fine, she could keep them if she wanted. The less they said about the past, the better, as far as he was concerned. He had meant what he’d said. What had happened in the past made no difference to who they were now. They had a business relationship and nothing more. All he needed was to get these permits signed off and get off this island. Then Meena could continue working with the project manager and he would never have to speak to her again.

  A pang of regret hit him in the chest with that thought.

  It was just an echo, he told himself. An echo of the feelings that he used to have for her. That wasn’t what he felt now. It would be a relief, he told himself, to be off St Antoine and away from Meena. Except that thought didn’t seem to ease his pain.

  * * *

  It was him, Meena told herself with certainty. She’d known deep down as soon as she’d seen that expression on his face that he was the one. By the time she’d asked the question, she already had the answer.

  And yet, she didn’t have the answer. She had a thousand more anxieties and a thousand more unresolved questions.

  But this she knew: she had had sex with Guy Williams. More than once. And from the blank, expressionless look on Guy’s face, it had meant less than nothing to him. So why had she done it? How could he sit with her, talk with her and dive with her now as if nothing had ever happened?

  Why hadn’t he known about the accident? Why had he never got in touch?

  Now it was answered, what had seemed like the most important question in her life seemed suddenly irrelevant. She’d had sex—that wasn’t new information. She’d known it since she’d been in the clinic.

  But all along she’d thought that knowing the ‘who’ would answer all the other questions that she had. Principal amongst them: why? Why had she changed her mind about waiting? She knew that Guy was attractive. Knew that her body reacted whenever she saw him. That she wanted him. She’d thought that as soon as she knew who her partner had been, who had fathered the baby that she had been carrying, everything else would make sense. Her life, her decisions.

  She’d been wrong.

  Because nothing that she knew about Guy Williams made her decisions any more understandable. He was cold. He was evasive. He was bulldozing her island, or as good as.

  How could this man have been the one? How could she ever possibly know? It wasn’t as if she could ask him outright. It was clear in every line of his body and his face that he didn’t want to talk about their past. He had said he wouldn’t tell her any more lies, but how was she meant to get the important questions out: did you love me? Did I love you? Did you know that we were going to have a baby? Would you have been happy? Why did I love you? Who was I when we were together?

  She couldn’t even think about posing a single one of those questions to the hard, stern man standing in front of her, answering her questions with monosyllables while the breeze whipped at his hair.

  There had been a moment when they were diving, communicating using only their eyes and their hands, when she had thought that she had felt a connection between them. An understanding and a shorthand that spoke of some deeper understanding than the one that they had formed over the last week. That was what had given her the confidence to ask the question that needed to be asked.

  But it turned out that she had been wrong. Sex didn’t equal intimacy. Or, if it ever had, it didn’t apply indefinitely. The knowledge that Guy had once been inside her body didn’t mean that she knew him any better now. And it didn’t mean that she understood herself better, either.

  What had she expected? She wasn’t sure, but she did know what she’d wanted. She’d wanted to meet the man that she had fallen for, and she’d wanted every decision she’d made in the past, whether she could remember it or not, suddenly to make sense. She wanted to lose this shame and doubt that had dogged her since she had woken from her accident in a broken body with a broken mind and a broken heart.

  But she’d been foolish, childish, thinking that that was going to be the outcome. All she knew now was what she’d known before. She’d had sex with a man who no longer wanted to be a part of her life.

  Now that she knew that for certain, it was time to move on. To put to rest the questions that had been burning through her. To concentrate on the future, rather than focussing her energies on something that couldn’t be changed. And that meant moving on from Guy. The more distance she could put between them, the better.

  CHAPTER SIX

  GUY GLANCED AT the inbox that he shared with his assistant, hoping for a message from Meena. Because he needed these permits sorted so he could get home to Sydney, he told himself. Not because he was feeling awkward over their last conversation, when he had confessed that they had been lovers and that he had returned to Australia and never been in touch again.

  But three days had passed since she had made her excuses and they had awkwardly parted at the marina and there had been no word from her since. He wasn’t surprised that she didn’t want to rehash that last conversation, but he had been expecting to hear something about the report from their last dive. Without a plan for the reef at Le Bijou, she wouldn’t sign off the permits. He wanted off this island, and he needed Meena’s cooperation if that was going to happen.

  He drew in a pained breath and reached for his phone, scrolling through his contacts until he found her number. As he listened to the ringing tone, he dropped his head into his hand, sure that this was a bad idea. If he was thinking as a developer, this call was essential. As her ex, it was a disaster waiting to happen; he was certain of it. But if she was avoiding him because of their last conversation, and that was holding up the development, then he needed to address the situation.

  Just as he was about to hang up and send an email instead, the ringing stopped.

  ‘Hello,’ Meena said, a little out of breath. ‘Sorry, I was in the lab,’ she added by way of explanation for the delay.

  Guy gulped, suddenly lost for words. ‘We need to talk,’ he said eventually.

  ‘Guy, I...’ He could hear the hesitation in Meena’s voice and it actually reassured him. Hopefully she was as disinclined as he was to rehash their past.

  ‘We need to talk about Le Bijou,’ he added resolutely, leaving no room for her to inte
rpret his last comment as being about their personal rather than professional life. ‘I want to know what progress you have made since the dive.’

  Meena took a deep breath to reply, but on an impulse he cut off whatever she was about to say.

  ‘It would be best if you came here,’ Guy said. ‘I want this sorted as soon as possible. The best way to do that is in person. That way we can be sure there are no more delays.’ He glanced at the clock in the corner of his computer screen. ‘This afternoon?’

  Meena paused, and he was already preparing to counter her arguments when she said, ‘Fine. I’ll be there in an hour. But I’ll need to finish before sunset.’

  ‘Sunset?’ he asked, momentarily confused.

  ‘I’m watching for turtles hatching on the beach tonight,’ she explained. ‘I’m not signing off the permits until I know what’s going on with the nesting site. It’s the last possible day of the incubation period, and I want to be there in person to see what’s happening.’

  ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you in an hour.’

  He watched the minutes crawl by slowly for the next sixty-four, and was about to pick up his phone and find out where Meena was when a knock sounded at the door. He looked up to see her standing in the doorway, laptop case slung over her shoulder, a hard look on her face.

  ‘Where are we going to do this?’ she asked without preamble.

  He wasn’t sure what he had been expecting from her today. But he was sure that it wasn’t this...hardness in her eyes and her body. If she cared at all that they had once been lovers, she wasn’t letting it show now.

  He gestured her over to the table, then pulled out a couple of chairs for them both. ‘Have you written your report on the dive?’ he asked while she was booting up her computer.

  She nodded, not looking over at him. ‘It’s nearly done,’ she said, still looking at her blank screen.

  How were they meant to work together if she couldn’t even look at him? He understood that this was awkward. God, of course it was. But this was about more than their personal relationship. His whole development was dependent on getting these permits approved. If she couldn’t even talk to him, they weren’t going to get anywhere.

  He hadn’t exactly helped matters, he acknowledged. Now that she was in his office, it suddenly seemed like an insane idea. They could have done this over email. Over the phone. There were a million ways to finish this project without ever being in the same room, never mind holed up in his office together. And he hadn’t thought that any of them were good enough. He had insisted that she come here, and had made them both uncomfortable.

  ‘Meena?’ he asked, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

  ‘What?’ she asked, not looking up.

  ‘Will you look at me?’ he asked.

  She shrugged, finally looking over and meeting his eye. ‘I am.’

  ‘You know what I mean.’

  She shook her head. ‘I really don’t, Guy. What’s the problem?’

  She was putting on a front. He could see that. He had thought that he remembered everything there was to know about her when he had seen her lying on the beach on Le Bijou nearly two weeks ago. But the more time that they had spent together, more was coming back to him. The easier it was to know what she was thinking from the set of her mouth or the angle of one dark, angled eyebrow.

  ‘You’re stalling,’ he said, calling her bluff. ‘That’s the problem. This report should have been done days ago.’

  She crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair, aiming a death stare in his direction. ‘Are you questioning my professionalism?’

  ‘Yes. No. No, of course not. I’m sorry,’ he blustered, wondering how she had grabbed the upper hand in this conversation. He had called her here because he thought that by looking over her shoulder he could push this report through faster. But now he realised his mistake. She was a consummate professional. Summoning her here was going to do nothing but slow her down.

  He was the one being unprofessional. There was no way that he would have accused someone of that if they didn’t have a shared past. It was unforgivable for him to say that to Meena. ‘I didn’t mean it and I’m sorry,’ he added. ‘That was indefensible. I know you’re a professional.’

  ‘Good,’ she said, uncrossing her arms and returning her gaze to the laptop, typing in a password and clicking through login screens. ‘And thank you. Because annoying me isn’t going to get this finished any faster, you know. I’ve told you that before.’

  ‘I know. I should have listened. It’s just, the last time we spoke...’

  She took a deep breath and he saw her brace herself.

  ‘Last time we spoke was very awkward,’ she confirmed. ‘We spoke about stuff from the past that probably should have stayed there. I’d prefer it if we didn’t speak about it again.’

  ‘Fine by me.’

  Perfect by him, in fact, he thought, letting out a long, relieved breath. He had never wanted to talk about it in the first place. He never would have if she hadn’t pushed him so hard. Now that it was out there, the best thing that they could both do was ignore it and push it back into the sealed box where it belonged.

  But he was surprised, nonetheless. Because Meena was the one who had pushed and pushed him to reveal their past—and, now that she knew, she had decided she wasn’t interested any more? The last thing that he wanted was to rake over it all again, but he couldn’t deny that he was surprised that she had dropped the subject entirely.

  Maybe it was him, he mused. He had been giving off signals that he wasn’t good for her from the moment that he had met her. He couldn’t blame her for taking notice of them and deciding to wipe their relationship from her memory—voluntarily this time.

  Meena talked him through the report from their last dive and her updated plans for the reef off Le Bijou. He couldn’t fault her work. Her research was precise, and her plans for the project detailed and thorough. As far as he could see, the only remaining question mark over the permits were these bloody turtles.

  ‘Will you definitely see the turtles hatch tonight?’ he asked her when they reached the end of the report.

  ‘I’ve learned not to get too hung up on “definitely”,’ she replied, annoyingly obtuse.

  ‘Okay, do you think that you will see them tonight, then?’

  She shrugged. ‘I hope so. But I hoped that last night too.’

  ‘You were on Le Bijou last night?’

  ‘I camped on the beach,’ she said. Her words sparked a host of memories, of the night that they had camped out, their two blankets on the sand doing less to keep them warm than the heat of one another’s bodies. They’d made a small fire, eaten sticky mangoes and then watched the stars appear one by one in the sky.

  ‘What?’ Meena asked, and he knew that some of what he had been remembering must have shown on his face.

  ‘It’s nothing,’ he said quickly, trying to cover his tracks. Cover his feelings.

  ‘A memory?’ she asked.

  He hesitated. She was the one who had said they should leave the past where it was. But he had promised not to lie to her.

  ‘Yes.’ Monosyllables were safest.

  ‘Ours?’

  He nodded. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Le Bijou?’

  ‘Yes, Le Bijou.’ He cracked; holding these memories himself was too much of a responsibility. She had shared in the making of them, and she was as entitled to them as he was. He could talk about Le Bijou without talking about how he had felt for her. He could give her something without giving her everything. ‘We spent the night there,’ he said simply, leaving out the details.

  Meena looked thoughtful.

  ‘We went there a lot?’ she asked.

  He could have ignored the question. He had promised not to lie; he hadn’t promised always to answer every question. But the look on he
r face, the eagerness for new information, meant that he couldn’t deny her.

  ‘Yes,’ he said eventually. ‘We went there a lot.’

  * * *

  It was where she had always felt safe since the accident. Where she had always been comfortable. Where she had eventually learned to be happy again. And now she knew that she had shared that place with him.

  Was that why he had bought it? Because it had been special to them?

  It would have been sweet, she thought, if he hadn’t been bent on trying to destroy it. Despite her best efforts to limit the impact of the development, despite the relatively sensitive plans that Guy had submitted, her tranquil island retreat would never be the same once building began.

  Was he trying to erase what had gone on there? What they had shared?

  ‘Was that why you bought the island?’ she asked, unsure of whether she would get an answer, never mind one that she would like.

  ‘Yes.’ Another monosyllable. Marvellous. Piecing together her history one syllable at a time wasn’t remotely frustrating...

  ‘Fine,’ she said, her patience finally snapping. ‘You don’t have to tell me, Guy. You hoard those memories to yourself, and I’ll pick up the crumbs and try and piece those few months together from the scraps that you throw me. It’s not like I mean anything to you. I wouldn’t expect you to try and understand.’

  ‘It’s not like that,’ Guy protested.

  ‘Four syllables this time. Lucky me.’

  ‘I’m serious. You’re better off not knowing. Trust me.’

  ‘Trust you?’ She raised her eyebrows in disbelief. ‘And what possible reason have you given me to do that? What I know about you can be summed up in a handful of paragraphs, and the fact is that we had sex and you no longer care. That’s fine. But this isn’t just about that for me. Can’t you see? I can’t pretend that I don’t care. I can’t not care. Because to me that summer isn’t about what happened between us. It’s about me. It’s about who I was. And the only clues that I have are the ones that you throw me, and I’m fed up of turning up here hoping for scraps and having to deal with your attitude to get them. Either start sharing our history with me or stop calling, Guy. It’s not fair to trap me between the two.’