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Tempted By The Single Doc
The helicopter touched down with a bump and Olivia snapped open the clasp on her safety belt. A big, strapping Fijian man opened the door and held out his hand to help her out. Feet firmly on the ground, she looked around and was greeted by two young girls.
‘Bula,’ they said in unison, before placing leis made of pink and yellow hibiscus flowers around her and Zac’s necks.
‘Bula,’ she replied.
Zac took her hand. ‘Welcome to paradise.’
The bure was gorgeous, made from dark wood and covered with thatch. Wide doors and large open windows let the sea breeze through. An overhead fan spun slowly. A perfect spot for a couple to enjoy themselves and each other. Even with the sex ban? A second shower stall, outside and without a roof, made her smile. ‘All the better to stargaze.’
‘Come here.’ Zac still held her hand and now he tugged her over the lawn to stand on the beach twenty metres from what was to be their home for five nights.
‘It’s going to be dark shortly,’ she sighed. The day had sped by getting here.
‘Let’s pop the cork on that bottle of champagne I saw in an ice bucket on the coffee table. We can sit out on our front porch and pretend we do this every night after a hard day at work.’
Olivia started walking backwards so she could watch Zac. ‘You’re as excited as a kid on his first holiday, aren’t you?’ His eyes shone, his mouth the most relaxed she could ever remember it.
‘I reckon. This is like my first holiday, only way better.’
‘We’ve barely started.’ She stopped so that his next step brought him right up close. Close enough to lean in and kiss that happy mouth, which she did. But when his hands spanned her waist she reluctantly pulled back. ‘Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.’
‘Did the rule state no kissing?’ He was shaking his head at her, his smile only increasing. Was nothing going to mar his enjoyment? ‘I must’ve missed that.’
‘Maybe you didn’t put it in.’ She hoped not. Kissing Zac was too much fun not to be able to do it whenever she wanted. But then there’d be consequences. Looking around for something else to talk about, she spied two hammocks slung between nearby trees. ‘There’s your bed. You even get a choice.’
‘I am not spending my nights slapping at the mozzies, thank you very much.’ Zac caught her hand, laced his fingers through hers, then swung their joined hands up to his lips and kissed her knuckles.
Careful. That might start a fire I can’t put out. And we have rules. She slipped her hand out of Zac’s. ‘Where’s that champagne?’
He tried not to look disappointed, but she saw it and felt a heel. He’d only been having fun, and she had instigated the kiss.
Inside, Zac picked up the card leaning against the bucket in which the ice was rapidly turning to liquid. ‘Compliments of Andy and Kitty. They say thanks for the gala night and hope we have a wonderful time.’
‘That’s lovely. It’s not as though they haven’t got enough to think about at the moment.’
Minutes later they sat in front of their bure and watched the sun turning the sky red and yellow. ‘That’s an abrupt change from day to night,’ Zac commented.
‘Guess that’s the tropics for you. Hard to believe we left winter behind.’ The warm, heavy air made her clothes stick to her skin. She wouldn’t be wearing much for the next few days.
‘What’s your favourite season?’ Zac asked.
‘Summer, followed by summer. I hate being cold.’
‘Yet you bought an old villa that must be freezing in winter. Though, come to think of it, I didn’t notice a chill when I was there.’
‘First thing I did was improve the insulation in the roof and some of the walls. Then I had that firebox installed to replace the open fire. There’s also a heat pump in the hall.’
Zac chuckled. ‘I bought a very modern apartment and you went for the opposite.’
‘I love old villas. There’s something magical about them. Yes, they come with loads of problems, but get them sorted and there’s an amazing home waiting to be loved.’ She sipped her champagne. ‘There’s history in the boards. When I bought the place the vendors passed on to me a book written about the family who originally built it. The man had been an excise officer and his wife a nurse in the First World War.’
‘So you’re a history buff.’
‘Only when it comes to my property, but it’s neat knowing about the original owners.’ She laughed softly. ‘It was also a surprise finding I enjoy working on the redecorating. In spring I’m going to start putting in a garden to grow a few salad vegetables.’
‘I saw your pot plants in your hallway. Just go to the markets. That way you won’t starve.’
‘Thanks, pal.’ He was right. She always forgot to water the plants until they were drooping over the edges of their pots.
‘You grew up in Auckland, right?’
She nodded. ‘Remuera.’ One of Auckland’s most sought-after areas, where many of the city’s wealthy lived. On a street where fences were metres high, hiding a multitude of sins. ‘I went to a private school for girls, played the cello and joined the debating team.’ That was after the in-crowd had worked their number on her because her mother had followed her around dressed in identical outfits to hers, trying to look way younger than she was.
‘Was your childhood home another old house?’
She blinked, got back on track. Her mother wasn’t welcome on this holiday. ‘Yes. A massive, six-bedroom edifice with half an acre of gardens, a tennis court and a swimming pool.’
‘You played tennis?’ He didn’t hide his astonishment.
‘Me run around chasing a ball to bang it back over a net? Not likely.’
They were getting close to things she didn’t want to talk about when she was sitting in paradise. ‘I can’t wait to go snorkelling amongst the fishes.’
Zac went with her change as easily as butter melted on warm toast. ‘We should take a boat trip to Treasure Island and the marine reserve where the best array of fish is supposed to be.’
Zac had done some research before they’d left Auckland. She hadn’t had the time. ‘Five days might not be enough.’
How was he going to cope with not getting up close and naked? Zac grimaced. This magical setting was working mischief on his libido. What had he been thinking when he’d come up with that brainwave? Hadn’t been thinking, that was the trouble. Now his body was screaming out for Olivia’s, and he had no one to blame but himself.
‘Want a top-up?’ was the only lame excuse he could come up with in a hurry for getting out of the cane chair and putting some air between them for a moment.
‘Of course.’ When she handed him her glass she seemed to take desperate measures to prevent her fingers touching his.
Phew. Damn. Hell. He dragged his hand down over his hair. Less than an hour and he was a cot case. Certifiable. Had he been so desperate to come here with Olivia he’d have bargained with the devil if it had meant she’d agree? Seems like it. Didn’t make any sense, though.
Back on the porch he passed over a full glass. ‘Drink up. That ice bucket is now a water receptacle and the fridge is warmer than my toaster on full.’
‘Do we get dinner brought over? I’m kind of relaxed and comfortable now.’
And I’m in need of space and people around to break the grip you have on me. I am so not ready to spend all evening alone with you when I can’t touch you. ‘I’m thinking dining on the restaurant deck with candles under those palm trees would be special.’
‘I guess you’re right.’ When Olivia yawned there was nothing ladylike about her.
He grinned. ‘That’s it? No argument?’ Then she must be very tired.
‘If I stay here I’ll be asleep by seven, and probably awake again by midnight.’ Her throat worked as she swallowed.
‘CC? You all right?’
Olivia stood up and took a step to the edge of the porch. ‘Yeah,’ she huffed out over the lawn. ‘Good and dandy.’ Her voice sounded anything but.
Moving quietly, Zac stepped up beside her, rubbed his shoulder lightly against hers. Gave her a moment to regroup her thoughts. But his brain wasn’t quiet as it tossed up questions about this sudden mood swing. Was Olivia regretting the trip already? His stomach plummeted. Please, not that. No matter what happened after they left the island, he wanted this time with Olivia. Wanted them to have fun and be relaxed, to enjoy each other’s company. He felt rather than heard her soft sigh. A gentle lifting of her shoulder against his.
‘I’m afraid.’
Or that’s what he thought she’d whispered. Olivia afraid? Of what? Him? The urge rose to rant at her, to tell her he’d never hurt her. But reason caught him in time. If she’d ever believed he’d hurt her she wouldn’t have come near him, certainly wouldn’t be on this island with him. ‘Want to talk about it?’
‘No.’ She spoke to the dark space in front of them. Then after a minute, in a stronger tone, ‘Let’s go eat.’ Back in control of her emotions.
Which bugged the hell out of Zac. How was he supposed to get behind the walls she put up when she kept doing this? He wanted to shake her, shake out her story, then begin to help her move past whatever locked her up so tight. But one look at that jutting chin said that now wasn’t the moment. Though when would be the right time was a mystery to him. Olivia had made self-control an art form.
The only place he’d seen her enjoy herself completely, without thought for anything else, was in the sack. Light-bulb moment. Because when she’d finished she could, and did, put on her corporate-style clothes again and the control they represented.
For which he should be glad, but wasn’t.
A vision of Olivia in track pants and a sweatshirt. That night she’d started making love to him and it had been as different from any other time as north was to south. Slow and tender, giving and sharing.
For him it had been a game changer. Waking up in her bed in the morning had been a first. Lying tucked up against her back, his arm over her waist, holding her close, had been another first, and absolutely wonderful, like nothing he’d experienced before. So wonderful he’d settle for cuddling Olivia all night to wake up like that again.
Okay, he’d try, but it wouldn’t be easy. But he’d try really hard. Hard is the wrong word, buddy.
‘You plan on daydreaming all night?’ the woman causing these thoughts called from the door.
‘Why is it called daydreaming when I’m doing it at night?’
As they strolled along the lantern-lit path Zac found himself wondering for the first time ever if he was wrong to stick to his guns and deliberately deny himself a future that involved a beautiful, loving woman and maybe equally beautiful and loving children.
No, he couldn’t be wrong. How else did he justify keeping Olivia at arm’s length?
Later, Olivia slid beneath the bedcovers and tucked the sheet under her neck like a prissy girl from the convent.
Zac laughed. Long and loud. His eyes twinkled and his gorgeous mouth looked good enough to devour.
‘It’s not that funny.’ She tried not to laugh too, and only succeeded in making hysterical squawking noises instead.
‘Yeah, it is, when you think what we’ve got up to in beds before.’
That dampened down her mirth. ‘You want to change the rules.’
‘Damn right I do. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.’ He came and sat on the edge of the bed, on his side; no sign of laughter in his face now. ‘But I’m enjoying our time together. It’s like nothing we’ve ever done before and it’s …’ He waved his hand in the air between them. ‘Does fun sound boring?’
‘Fun is good.’
‘I want to get to learn more about you, what makes you tick, the things that you’d choose to do first if time was running out. Hell, I want to know everything about you. Before the gala night I didn’t know anything about you despite having spent many hours in your company.’
Wow. Really? Of course, he didn’t know what he was asking for. ‘We trained together. You can’t do that without learning some things.’ But she was ducking for cover, and that wasn’t fair. ‘Doctor things, I guess. Like how much you care about your patients, how intelligent you are, oh, and how pig-headed you can be.’
‘Thanks a bunch.’ Zac smiled. ‘Okay, random question. Do you still play the cello?’ He leaned back against the headboard and stretched his legs all the way down the bed.
She laughed. ‘No way. I sold my cello to buy an amazing pair of leather boots that were the envy of every girl at school.’ Which was why she’d wanted them. Now she bought the most amazing pairs of boots any time because she could, and loved them without needing any acknowledgement from others.
‘I bet you were good at music.’
‘Try very average on a good day. I think the music teacher only persisted with my lessons because he needed a cello in the school orchestra and no one else wanted to be hauling such a large instrument on and off the bus.’
‘Why are you doing that?’
‘What?’
‘Putting yourself down again. You’re a highly skilled surgeon, yet right now you’re sounding like you don’t believe in yourself.’
‘I’m not perfect, can’t excel at everything I do. For example, the pot plants in my house. But I am honest.’ Most of the time.
Zac reached for her hand and held it between both of his. ‘I know.’
Warm fuzzies uncurled inside her. It would be all too easy to lean her head against his chest and pretend they were a couple, a real couple with a history and a future that involved more than bedroom antics. The couple that woke up in the morning in each other’s arms.
Pulling her hand free, she shuffled further down the bed. ‘Time to get some sleep. Sunrise is early around these parts.’ As if she’d fall asleep with Zac barely inches away from her. Those pillows she’d stuffed down the middle as a barrier were a joke, and would take two seconds to get shot of. She could only hope his mental barrier was stronger. Hers was weakening.
‘Good night, Olivia.’ Zac leaned over and dropped the softest, sweetest kiss of her life on her forehead. ‘I’ll sit out on the porch for a while.’
If he was cross at her abrupt withdrawal he wasn’t showing it. But, then, he was good at hiding his feelings behind a smile or laughter. This time the smile was stretched a little too tight, and his eyes held a tinge of sadness.
‘Zac,’ she called as he reached the door leading outside. ‘Thanks.’
His eyebrow rose in query. ‘For?’
‘Being you, caring and understanding.’
Understanding? Zac growled under his breath. Newsflash, CC, I don’t understand a thing. Whatever’s going on between us is a complete mystery. What I want is no longer clear. I feel like I’m walking in deep mud and every now and then stepping onto a dry patch. A brief moment of hope before sliding back into the mire.
His right foot pushed against the ground to set the hammock swinging. Stretched full length, he linked his hands together behind his head. The dark sky twinkled with so many stars it was as though a kid had lit up a whole pack of sparklers. The hammock was unbelievably comfortable. So far the mosquitoes hadn’t found him. Hopefully when they did, he’d put enough insect repellent on what little skin was exposed to deter them.
His heart was back in the bure, lying next to Olivia. His mind was seeing the despair and fear that sometimes altered her expression and briefly filled those eyes that usually reminded him of flowers. Whatever had caused her grief, she wasn’t prepared to talk about it. Yet.
Come on. Why should she choose to bare her soul to him?
Because they were connected. They mightn’t have known it before but the threads were becoming more obvious by the day. They both had issues holding them back from getting into a serious relationship. What Olivia’s troubles were he had no idea, but they were there. He recognised his own stock standard coping mechanisms in her now that he’d started looking for them.
He wanted to hold her, protect her for ever.
Kind of strange for a guy who had no plans to commit to settling down. Yet all the reasons for why he shouldn’t were slipping away, one by one dropping off the edge, leaving him exposed and cautious yet strangely ready to try for the rainbow.
Was Olivia the pot of gold at the end of his rainbow?
No. There wasn’t any rainbow. The hardest lesson of his life had been that night of the accident when he’d learned his parents didn’t love him unconditionally. Didn’t love him enough to support and help him through the trauma of what he’d done. Sometimes he wondered if they’d loved him and Mark at all; as in deep, for ever, parent kind of love. Their careers had been their priority, taking all their time and concentration, with nothing left over for their sons. Why did they have children? They clearly hadn’t wanted to be with their sons. Zac had asked his grandfather about it on numerous occasions but Grampy hadn’t been able to come up with a satisfactory answer. Not one he was prepared to tell his grandson anyway.
Zac swallowed the usual bile that came from thinking about his parents. Coming from a dysfunctional family, the odds were he’d be bad at parenting too. Another reason not to settle down with a wonderful woman and contemplate the picket-fence scenario.
Zac’s sigh was long and slow. Around him everything had gone quiet, and lights were being turned off. With nothing to do after dinner most people would be settled in their bures. He pushed with his foot again, swinging the hammock high, sighing as the movement slowed and the arc became less and less. Beyond the edge of the lawn the waves rolled up the sand, then pulled away, rolled in, pulled away.
‘Zac, come inside.’
Someone was shaking his arm gently.
‘Come on. Wake up. You’re getting wet from the dew.’
Hauling his eyelids up, he saw her leaning over him, her long hair framing her face. ‘Olivia.’ His Olivia.
‘The one and only.’ She tugged at him. ‘You can’t spend the whole night out here.’
Swinging his legs over the side, he awkwardly pushed out of the hammock. ‘What time is it?’
‘One o’clock.’ She took his hand and led him inside to that damned bed with its row of pillows down the middle.
Zac shucked out of his shirt and trousers, jerked the bedcover back and threw the pillows on the floor. Dropping into bed, he reached for Olivia where she now lay on her side, facing him. ‘Roll over,’ he whispered. ‘I want to hold you all night.’
If only it were that easy.
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