I COULDN’T STOP looking at her.
My gaze somehow found their way to her no matter how much she pissed me off.
What the hell is she doing here?
She wasn’t like me.
She didn’t have an obligation to uphold.
She had a plane reservation leaving in the morning and every reason to stay in the crappy hotel supplied by the airline and leave the moment she could. So why the hell had she thrown that away to come with us?
Stupid girl.
Stupid, beautiful, sexy-as-hell girl.
Why couldn’t she vanish and let me live my damn life?
You don’t know anything about her.
I didn’t want to. I’d only had a few conversations with her, and already, I guessed she was a high-maintenance shrew with the personality of a pencil.
My fists curled as the van bumped over badly paved roads, heading through villages shrouded in darkness.
I couldn’t stop staring.
Why the hell can’t I stop staring?
I was glad I hadn’t talked to her on the plane. I wished I didn’t have to talk to her at all. Not only had she ruined the perception I had of a sweet woman who would’ve let me walk all over her and not held my balls in her hands, but now, I also had the unwanted situation of sharing transportation with her.
And what was worse...she would be on my island.
Kadavu.
She would check into the resort where the Evermores were staying and infect my piece of paradise. She would be close enough to visit, apologise to, let down my walls, turn off my temper, and truly see what the hell had happened between us when we touched.
She didn’t look my way—not once.
I cleaned my glasses; just to be sure I’d catch any glimpse of her sneaking a look.
But nothing.
Her eyes locked on the passing Fijian countryside, her fingers tapping a nonsensical beat on her puffer jacket in her lap. She’d removed her pink jumper and the delicate lines of her naked shoulders and the hint of bra straps beneath her black tank top pissed me off even more.
How dare she have this effect on me? It wasn’t permitted. Not when I was so close to doing something right for a change. Not when I wanted nothing to do with complications and relationships that I didn’t deserve.
The little girl sitting beside her tugged her jacket, poking at the bulging pockets.
Estelle (what sort of sexy, delicious name was that anyway?) giggled, leaning closer to chat with the kid.
The fearful tension she’d worn on the plane had faded, revealing another layer to the woman I didn’t want to know.
Now, she looked almost...excited. Free. Younger and wiser all at the same time.
What made her change her mind?
Where had she been going before throwing her plans to fate and deciding to hook up with a bunch of strangers to fly to an island in the middle of nowhere?
Who did that?
Who lived so freely?
My lips drifted to her mouth.
What would she taste like if I kissed her? Would she let me or would she kick me in the balls instead?
I don’t want to bloody kiss her, goddammit.
I groaned, rubbing my temples, trying to get myself under control.
I wanted to open the door and shove her outside mid-drive. I wanted her far, far away from me before I could give into the itch inside. Because if I gave into the itch, I was screwed. She would be, too.
I don’t have time for this.
Duncan and his family remained quiet as fat raindrops intermittently splashed the van’s roof. Palm trees swayed in the dark, lit with an occasional streetlight, turning them into eerie skeletons the deeper into the bush we drove.
The journey didn’t take long. After all, Viti Levu wasn't a big island. However, the rain had drenched the trees and banana plantations. The storm might have passed, but precipitation and humidity meant the tropics were never truly dry.
My teeth jarred as we turned right over a pothole and down a long driveway, arriving beside an airstrip where the carcasses of propeller aircraft and a few sad looking helicopters rested in the night.
Estelle glanced out the window as we pulled to a stop outside a thatched bungalow. The driver climbed out and opened our door.
We all tumbled out in a mix of curses.
Suitcases and carry-ons were hauled from the van’s trailer and carted as quickly as possible into the decrepit office with dull lights swinging from the ceiling. The humidity did its best to drench us, turning weary passengers into a sodden pile of jetlagged clothing.
Dropping our bags in the foyer beside a counter with an ancient printer and fax machine, our sad little group surveyed the not-too-inviting office.
The driver pointed at the floor in the universal sign of ‘stay here’ and disappeared down a corridor to where I assumed was the main traffic control.
Estelle looked at me fleetingly as she investigated sepia photographs on the wall depicting planes and helicopters flying over pretty islands.
The tiny glance harpooned my attention, reeling me in despite my wishes. Opening lines and snippy arguments filled my head. If I had to put up with the weird connection between us, she ought to be as uncomfortable as I was.
Before I could think up a callous, witty remark, Estelle turned her back on me and traced a large map of Fiji with its widespread islands pasted crookedly on the wall. The Evermore family drifted off, murmuring and soothing the kids that soon they’d be in paradise and able to sleep.
I stood there like a bloody idiot.
Needing to do something, I ran a hand over my hair to dispel raindrops and prowled after the driver. At the end of the corridor, I entered the office where he’d disappeared.