Love Islands: Summer Kisses

Nathan watched carefully. For some reason Ron seemed to relate better to Rachel’s instructions than his. She had a gift for talking to patients. Her tone was firm but friendly. He liked it.

His time working for Doctors Without Borders had been fraught. There had hardly been any time for conversations like this. As soon as he finished patching one patient—he was on to the next. There was barely time to think, let alone speak.

He sucked in a breath for a second. Something else had just struck him. He’d spent five years working with people, but not getting close—never staying in one place long enough to form true relationships. That thought started to chip away at his brain as he watched Rachel empathise and relate to Ron.

Rachel squeezed Ron’s hand. ‘Stay here for the next few hours, then I’ll take you down to the canteen for dinner. We can have a further talk about things then.’

It was almost as if a giant weight had been lifted from Ron’s shoulders. He sighed and rested back on the examination trolley, letting his eyes close. ‘Dinner with a beautiful woman,’ he muttered. ‘I’d be a fool to say no.’

Rachel shot Nathan a smile—a smile that sent a little jolt all the way down his body. Maybe it was her humanity that was drawing him in. Even though he knew better, he’d spent the last few years labelling Rachel as heartless in his head. It had been easier to do that—because he’d never been able to get his head around the way she’d walked away and left him and Charlie.

He’d known her for seven years. The first few years of university they hadn’t dated—just casually flirted. The five years after that, they’d been inseparable. Rachel had never seemed heartless to him. That just wasn’t her. That wasn’t how she worked. No one could spend five years with someone and not know them. It just wasn’t possible to put on a good enough act to hide all your flaws and character traits for that long. He did know her. Or at least he had known her.

So why had she done something so out of character? What on earth had happened?

Their eyes locked. Chocolate-brown, framed with dark lashes, her eyes had always been one of his favourite parts of her. Her tan was deepening slightly after a few days on the island. Her dark hair was pulled up at either side of her face and tied in a rumpled kind of knot, the rest sitting on her shoulders. And the pink sundress covered everything, just giving enough of a hint of the soft curves that lay underneath. Pretty as a picture. Those were the words he’d always used for Rachel in his head. And no matter how angry he’d been with her—still was with her—some things were just buried too deep. The underlying frustration and resentment was still there.

No one had hurt him like Rachel had. What she’d done was unforgivable. But now he was in her company again he kept having little flashes of the good stuff. The way she tilted back her head and laughed when she was joking with some of the crew. The way she frequently reached out and touched someone when she was talking to them. The way that every now and then she drifted off, thinking about something else. All sparked waves of memories for Nathan. Memories of good times … memories of better times. Five years of shared memories.

Why had she walked away?

She wiggled her toes, the sand from the beach obviously caught between them. He dragged his eyes away from her painted toes and stood up. ‘I’ll stay with Ron for the next few hours. Come back and take over at dinner time.’

She gave a nod and glanced around the cabin. ‘I promised Tallie I’d get her some petroleum jelly for her dry skin. She’s trying to ward off an eczema flare-up. Do you know where it is?’

He looked up from Ron’s notes and pushed the stool towards her. ‘There’s not enough storage in here. I think it’s at the top of the cupboard over there.’

‘Great, thanks.’ She dragged the stool over to the counter and climbed on top to open the cupboards. Nathan glanced at Ron. Thankfully, his eyes were still closed and he wasn’t watching Nathan fix on Rachel’s bare legs and backside as she rummaged through the cupboard. The corners of his mouth turned upwards. Most of the prescribed medicines were easily accessible but the more routine things had to be packed away wherever there was space.

After a few minutes she finally found what she was looking for. ‘Here it is.’ She bent down and placed the container on the counter at her feet, ready to jump back down. But her rummaging had dislodged a few of the precariously stacked items in the cupboard and, as she looked back up, a few packages of bandages tumbled from the cupboard, bouncing all around her. It was pure instinct. As the items started to fall, Rachel lifted her hands, crouched down and curled into a ball.

The movement made her dress ride up, and not just a little. She was wearing a bikini under her dress—pink, of course. He’d already noticed the straps tied around her neck. But this time he got a flash of something else. The bright pink bikini bottoms covered some, but not all, parts of her. She was quick to grab at her dress and pull it back down, colour flooding into her cheeks.

She spun around as he got to his feet to come over and help. She lifted her hands quickly. ‘Oops. Bit of a disaster.’ She couldn’t meet his gaze as she jumped down from the stool and made a grab for the wrapped bandages that had landed all around her. He bent to help, their hands brushing.

He saw her gulp as for a split second he caught her gaze. ‘Just as well you’ve seen it all before,’ she said quickly.

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t. He was still crouching down as she grabbed some of the bandages and set them on the counter. ‘I’ll let you get the rest. I’ll take this to Tallie and be back in a few hours.’

She rushed towards the door, still talking nervously as she made a quick exit. Nathan still hadn’t moved. He sucked in a deep breath as he reached for the last few bandages.

He couldn’t be sure—he just couldn’t be sure. But he’d seen more than enough battle scars in his time. He’d definitely seen something. But what it was he just couldn’t fathom.

He’d seen Rachel’s bare body a thousand times. He knew every contour of her body, every blemish, every mark. What he didn’t know was the flash of a surgical scar just above her right hip. He’d no idea how far it went; she’d pulled her dress back down much too quickly. And it had only been the tiniest flash. Maybe he was wrong. Maybe he was reading too much into something.

He closed his eyes for a second, trying to visualise what he’d just seen. It wasn’t ragged; it was clean. It couldn’t be from an accident. It had to be deliberate. It had to be surgical.

Rachel had always been in perfect health. She still looked in perfect health today. So where on earth had the scar come from and what was it?

CHAPTER SEVEN

NATHAN SAT ON the sidelines while Rachel had dinner with Ron. It was clear she was onto the health promotion part. She was pointing at his plate and obviously talking about food choices. Next she swapped his soda for a diet one. Then she persuaded him to have some salad with his steak.

Ron wasn’t eating much but the flushed colour of his cheeks had faded. Next, Rachel held his GTN spray for angina in her hands and talked him through how and when to use it.

‘Earth to Planet Nathan. Are you home?’

Len was grinning at him from the other side of the table.

‘What is it?’

Len gestured with his fork. ‘You haven’t taken your eyes off her for the last ten minutes. I keep expecting you to make an excuse to go on over there.’

‘What? No way.’ He speared a bit of his steak.

Len raised his eyebrows. ‘I know.’

‘Know what?’

‘That you two have history.’

He almost dropped his fork. ‘What do you mean?’ He shot a quick wayward glance in her direction again. He’d love to say that Len was far too observant for his own good. But Len was one of the crew members he had a rapport with. He hoped Len would be on his side.

Rachel reached across the table and put her hand over Ron’s, obviously offering some words of comfort.

Just as well he knew there was absolutely nothing in it, otherwise he was pretty sure his stomach would be twisting right now.

Len had started eating again. ‘I knew it when I talked to her down at the bar. She mentioned you then.’

‘She did?’ All of a sudden Len had his instant attention. ‘What did she say?’

Len laughed. ‘Oh, nothing good. I take it you didn’t leave things on the best of terms?’

Nathan started toying with his food. His gaze drifted back to Rachel. Her dark hair had fallen in waves over her shoulders and she’d put a pink wrap around her shoulders.

Rachel liked pink. She always had—at least seventy per cent of her wardrobe was pink. But what she probably didn’t realise was just how good she looked in the colour; it didn’t matter what the shade was. It seemed to make her lightly tanned skin glow and her dark hair and eyes shine.

He hesitated. It was obvious Len was waiting for an answer. ‘We’ve not been on the best of terms for eight years.’ The words kind of stuck in his throat. ‘Before that, we were good together …’ he paused ‘… really good.’

As he said the words out loud he realised how much they hurt. How little he understood about what had happened in his own life. Charlie was settled now. He’d grown up before his time and was married with a family. If his parents hadn’t died that was pretty much where he’d expected him and Rachel to end up. Married with a family, probably here in Australia.

But he’d lost all that. He’d lost not just the woman, but also his dreams and aspirations. The life he’d been supposed to live. The career pathway he’d had all plotted out in his head without even knowing if he could be a decent surgeon. He’d barely had the chance to hold a surgical scalpel.

The resentment had flowed through his blood for years. He’d resented her for walking away and leaving him. He’d resented her for carrying on with her career. He’d resented the fact she’d had a life whilst he felt as if he’d been stuck in limbo.

His training in London hadn’t fulfilled him; it hadn’t captured his passion and enthusiasm and he’d wondered if he would ever get that back.

Joining Doctors Without Borders was his way out. It was his way of trying to live again. Trying to feel useful. He’d saved lives. He knew he had. And knowing that had helped in a way. He might not have been able to save his parents, but he had been able to save others. And for five years he had. In lots of different ways. He still felt a little numb. Some days that had been the only way to survive out there, to just block out certain things so you could continue to function. But the camaraderie with the other staff had been amazing. He’d felt valued—an essential part of the team. He’d worked hard to make others feel that way too and do the absolute best job that he could.

And he’d made friends—good friends that he would have for life.

But the truth was that everyone burned out over there. He had too.

And once you’d burned out it was time to leave. The bosses at Doctors Without Borders often recognised it before the staff did.

Australia had always been the aspiration. Now, it was a reality. But it wasn’t working out quite how he had thought. Lewis was a good colleague. And the hospital he’d been working in was fine. But, the truth was, when he woke up in the morning his job wasn’t the first thing on his mind.

He’d changed. Life had changed. And as he glanced across the canteen he wondered how life had changed for Rachel too.

Len cleared his throat, then took a drink of his beer. He was off duty tonight. Officially, Nathan was off duty too. But even a couple of beers didn’t appeal.

‘Well, maybe it’s time.’

Nathan frowned. ‘Time to do what?’

‘Time to find out if eight years’ worth of bad feeling is worth it.’ He winked at Nathan. ‘I’ve got a nice bottle of chilled Barramundi behind the bar.’ He nodded towards the wall that had the shooting schedule on it. ‘There’s nothing scheduled for tonight. Nothing will happen, apart from the celebrities fighting over whose turn it is to empty the dunny. Why don’t you take a seat down at the beach with the fine lady and have a chat? I hear the sunsets around here are to die for.’

‘Not a chance.’ The words were out of his mouth immediately. He hadn’t even given it a moment’s consideration in his head.

Because it was more than a little tempting.

Len stood up. ‘Well, if you change your mind I’ll leave the bottle in some ice at the bar. Up to you, buddy. I’ll see you tomorrow at the cliffs. Let’s see how fast you can climb.’

Rachel and Ron had stood up and were clearing their trays. Len picked up his and walked over to the kitchen doors, exchanging a few words with them on the way.

Nathan stared down at his steak. The food here had been surprisingly good. He’d heard from the crew that television jobs were often judged on the catering and, if Celebrity Island was anything to go by, people would be fighting to get a job here. But his appetite had left him.

The seed that had planted in his brain earlier was beginning to bloom and grow. The more he was around Rachel, the more he realised just how much he’d done to try and avoid being in the same position again—the position where Rachel walking away had hurt more than any physical pain he’d experienced.

He’d spent eight years never really forming true relationships. He still had a good relationship with his brother, Charlie, and a few good friends from university. But other than that? The experience of losing his parents and Rachel so soon after seemed to have affected him more than he’d realised. Trusting someone with his heart again just seemed like a step too far. It was much easier to totally absorb himself in work and other issues. Trouble was, this island didn’t have enough work to keep him fully occupied, leaving him with far too much thinking time.

He cleared his tray and murmured a few words of greeting to some of the other crew members. He didn’t feel like socialising tonight, but on an island as small as this—with some parts out of bounds for filming—it could be difficult to find some space. The atmosphere in the cabin was becoming claustrophobic. And he was sure it was all him. Rachel seemed relaxed and at ease. She’d obviously got over the whole thing years ago. It wasn’t giving her sleepless nights.

He kicked off his trainers and wandered down to the beach. The path was only lit with a few dull lights and the insects were buzzing furiously around him. The waves around this island were a disappointment. Nathan had counted on spending a few hours in the surf every day but it wasn’t to be. As a result, he hadn’t spent much time on the beach.

He saw her as soon as his feet touched the cool sand. Saw the pink wrap around her, rippling in the nighttime breeze.

Len had obviously whispered in her ear. A silver wine cooler was on the sand next to the sun lounger she was sitting on, a glass of wine already in her hand.

He should leave her in peace. She was probably trying to escape, just like he was.

Or he could join her. He could ask her about Ron. It was a pathetic excuse. Even he knew that. But from a fellow medic it was a reasonable question. He stuck his hands deep into his shorts pockets as he moved across the sand towards her.

She was silhouetted against the warm setting sun, which sent a peachy glow across her skin. The condensation was visible on her wine glass as she took a sip.

‘Don’t spoil this, Nathan.’

Her words almost stopped him in his tracks. He paused for a second, his toes curling against the sand. He knew exactly what she meant. But somehow he still didn’t want to go there with her.

‘Don’t worry. Wine’s not really my thing. I prefer a beer.’ He missed out the obvious remark. Remember?

It was flippant, completely circumventing the whole issue. She didn’t turn at his voice, just kept her gaze fixed on the horizon and let out a sigh.

She sipped at her wine. ‘I’m tired, Nathan. I’m tired of all this.’

It seemed as if the barriers were finally down. Rachel was saying what had been on her mind since she’d first set foot in the medical cabin and caught sight of him.

If she’d said those words a few days ago his temper would have flared. How dare she be the one to be tired of the atmosphere between them when it was just as much her fault as his?

But the last few days had made his head spin. He couldn’t work out how he really felt about her.

He’d felt it all. Searing jealousy when Darius had appeared. A whole host of sensations when his skin had come into contact with hers. Confusion and rage for the first few days. Flares of passion. His gaze couldn’t help but linger on her when he thought she wouldn’t notice. Certain glances, nuances, would make his heartbeat quicken and send his blood racing around his body. All sensations he wanted to deny, to ignore.

He hadn’t expected to see Rachel again. And he certainly hadn’t expected to feel like this around her. Feeling was the problem. It was interfering with everything and because they were virtually stranded on an island together, that seemed to amplify it all.

He stepped forward—it felt like crossing a line—and bumped down on the sun lounger beside her. Her barriers were down. Maybe it was time for some home truths.

She shuffled over a little to make room for him. He reached over and took the glass from her hand, taking a sip of the chilled wine and handing it back. His eyes were focused entirely on the orange setting sun. It seemed easier. Like sitting in a movie theatre together.

The sharp wine hit the back of his throat.

‘I didn’t expect to see you again, Rach.’ He let the words hang in the air between them.

When she finally spoke she didn’t sound quite so exasperated. ‘I didn’t expect to see you again either.’

She turned her head towards him. Her voice had changed; it wasn’t so strong. There was the tiniest waver. ‘I don’t know how to be around you. I don’t know how to act. I don’t know what’s normal for us any more. I don’t think things can ever feel normal for us again.’

She was right. She was saying everything that was running through his head. They’d gone from normal to nothing. One day she’d been there—the next she had gone. With a fifteen-minute fraught and tearful conversation tacked on the end.

This situation was alien to them both.

After spending a couple of years at university together with flirtation and attraction, he’d finally acted on instinct and asked her out. They’d been together for five years—through finals, through placements as medical students and then out into the world together as junior doctors, and then senior house officers.

Their relationship had been good. There had been passion and mutual respect in equal measures with only the occasional cross word. She’d been his best friend. Losing her had devastated him at a time when he’d needed her most.

In a way it was a relief that she was struggling with this too. He’d always thought he’d been instantly replaced by Darius Cornell. He’d never understood how she could just walk away from their relationship without a backward glance. And it made him doubt himself—doubt his own ability to read people. He’d questioned that he’d ever known her at all.

She turned her body towards his. ‘Would it help if I said sorry? I’m sorry that I left?’

‘It would help if you told me why you left.’ It came out without any censorship. Without any thought. After eight years, he had to say the thing that was truly on his mind. He needed an explanation. He deserved an explanation.

She paused, obviously searching her brain for the right words. ‘I had to go.’ The words were measured—deliberate. ‘It was the right thing for me. It was the right thing for you. It was the right thing for Charlie.’

The mention of his brother made his temper flare. ‘Don’t you dare tell me that was the right thing for my brother. You weren’t there. You didn’t see. You chose to not see. In a world of madness you were the one thing to give him a sense of normality. You never even told him you were going. Have you any idea how hurt he was? He’d just lost his mum and dad. He didn’t need to lose someone else who’d been a permanent fixture in his life for five years.’

A tear rolled down her cheek. She reached over and touched his arm, the cold fingers from the wine glass causing him to flinch. ‘I know that. Don’t you think I know that? And I’m sorry. It broke my heart; it really did. But I had to. I just had to.’ She was shaking her head, oh, so slowly. As if she’d had no choice. But that was rubbish. There was always a choice.

It was words. It was just words. There was no explanation. No rational reason to explain what she’d done. But it was just the two of them sitting alone on this sun lounger on the beach in the glow of the setting sun. And she was confusing him all over again. How could she still do that after eight years?

He could see the sincerity in her eyes. He could hear the emotion in her voice. She wasn’t lying to him; she meant every word—even if she wouldn’t explain them.

Frustration was simmering in his chest. All he wanted was an explanation. A reason. Something he could make sense of in his head. ‘Why, Rach? Why can’t you tell me now? It’s been eight years. Surely whatever mattered then is in the past?’

Her lips were quivering, her fingertips still on his arm. He could feel the tension in the air between them, hanging like the fireflies above their heads. But there was more than that. There was the buzz, the electricity that still sparked between them.

All he wanted to do was reach up and catch the tear that was rolling down her cheek and wipe it away.

But she moved first. Something flitted across her eyes and she leaned forward, crossing the gap between them. Her perfume surrounded his senses, invading every part of him. He stopped breathing as her lips touched his. It was gentle, coaxing. Her fingertips moved from his arm to the side of his cheek.

His first reaction was to pull back. He’d thought about this from the first second he’d seen her. But he hadn’t actually imagined it would happen. He hadn’t even let his mind go that far.

But his body had other ideas. His hand tangled through her long hair, settling at the back of her head and pulling her closer to him.

He couldn’t think straight. But he could kiss.

And Rachel was kissing him right back.

Her fingers brushed against his tightly shorn hair, sending tingles down his spine as the kiss intensified.

Eight long years he’d waited to do this again. Eight long years to feel her familiar lips against his. They fitted, just the way they always had. Memories of kissing Rachel swamped him.

In their student accommodation … in one of the on-call rooms in the hospital … at one of the hospital balls … and on the street one night in the pouring rain when they just couldn’t wait to get home.

All of those memories raced around his head. This was too tempting. She was too tempting. Her hair was softer than cashmere, the skin around her neck and shoulders smoother than silk.

His hands slid down her back, feeling the contours of her spine and the curve of her hips. He paused. This was where he thought he’d glimpsed a scar. But now his brain felt as if it were playing tricks on him.

Every pore in his body wanted to move closer, to lie backwards on the sun lounger and pull her body against his. To feel the warm curves underneath her sundress press against the hard angles of his body. But the beach was too exposed. Any minute now some of the crew could appear. Anything that happened between him and Rachel was private—not for public consumption.

Then he felt it—the tear brush against his cheek. Was it the one that was already there? Or was she still crying?

He sucked in a breath. She gently pulled her lips from his, not breaking contact, leaving her forehead resting against his while she gave a few little gasps.