One Summer At The Beach: Pleasured by the Secret Millionaire / Not-So-Perfect Princess / Wedding at Pelican Beach

They got on a train, mixing in with a few commuters, shared a secret smile as they sat close on the seat. Enjoying the rocking motion. Sienna secretly enjoying a fantasy of being alone in the carriage with him, late at night, with no threat of other passengers arriving and—

‘Ever had sex on a train?’

Apparently they were wired into the same fantasy. She shook her head and grinned at him, admitting with her eyes she’d been dreaming about that exact scenario.

He bent his head and kissed her. ‘We’ll add it to the list.’

The park was beautiful—surprisingly green. It smelt fresh but the humidity was on the rise again. They walked through, around one corner into an isolated spot—trees and bushes forming a natural canopy. Then she heard it, the gentle trickle of water. Behind a small railing was the most pathetic fountain she’d ever seen.

‘We came to see this?’

His grin was slightly shamefaced. ‘You’re in Sydney at the height of summer. You can’t go expecting amazing waterfalls and fountains. We have water restrictions.’

She leant at the railing, struck dumb by the idea that he thought this was better than climbing up the Sydney Harbour Bridge. ‘A kid couldn’t splash in that, let alone two full-grown adults.’

He stared at it. ‘No.’

‘And though the morning’s warm already it’s not quite hot enough.’

‘No.’ He turned her in his arms to face him. Kissed her gently.

She pulled back to look at him in reproach. ‘You think a few kisses are going to turn this into the experience of a lifetime?’

He didn’t appear remotely abashed, green twinkling in his eyes.

‘You must rate yourself pretty high.’

‘I’m sorry, Sienna.’ He sighed then, and it was a sigh of genuine regret. ‘I’m not myself around you.’

He pulled away, picked up her bag from where it sat beside them, neatly clipped it onto his own. She grinned as he did so, not really minding at all. Just liking spending time with him, getting to know him, feeling more relaxed and content than she ever had. It was nice walking with nothing on her shoulders, feeling the warmth of the breeze through her tee shirt. It used to annoy her no end when her brother insisted on carrying her bag or heavy things. But Rhys taking the burden didn’t bother her at all. He wasn’t doing it because he was worried for her. He was just being nice. Really he’d been nothing but nice to her from the moment they’d met. He offered nothing more. Expected nothing more. He’d been honest from the beginning. He wanted her. And when she was gone, it was done. She was the one who’d have to get over it. And as the moments passed there was even more of an ‘it’ to get over.

On impulse she turned to him. ‘Thank you, Rhys.’

‘What for?’

‘Everything.’ She smiled. He was so straight up. ‘I can really trust you.’

His face hardened. The green sparkle faded behind the slate. ‘Sienna.’

Her smile faltered. She was used to him closing over when she attempted to inquire into his life, but just then she hadn’t asked anything and right now he had the most remote expression she’d ever seen on him. ‘What is it?’

‘There’s something I have to tell you.’

For a second all her vital organs stopped. Something was wrong. ‘Don’t tell me you have a girlfriend.’

‘No, I don’t have a girlfriend.’ He flashed a tight smile. ‘Want to offer yourself for the part?’

‘OK. But I’m only in town for another few days. And so are you.’ Don’t start messing with the arrangement, Rhys. Not when she was only just keeping it real for herself. His deathly serious look panicked her. She couldn’t cope with serious. She had to get on.

‘That’s just it. I’m uh…’

‘You’re not married.’ Sure she was right on that one. He wasn’t able to open up even a little way, he’d never open up to marriage.

‘No.’

‘OK, so you’re not married and you don’t already have a girlfriend. Are you in trouble with the law?’

‘No. I…’ He sighed. ‘Sienna, please, let me finish.’

She should. Hell, what was she doing? Here he was finally trying to say something important and she was stalling him. Because, she realised, she didn’t want to hear it. Didn’t want this illusion shattered. And he was about to smash it—she could see it in his eyes.

He opened his mouth, drew in a deep breath.

And then they heard it. The ear-piercing scream. Startled, they stared into each other’s eyes as if questioning whether the other had heard it. And then sound came again—shouts and cries. They both turned and ran. Around the hedge encircling the fountain, through the trees.

They came upon masses of people. A pile of them bunched near one of the swing sets. Wisps of conversation came to them—disjointed commands filtering through the crowd. ‘She’s bleeding…she could be concussed…someone phone an ambulance.’

‘Excuse me. Make way, please. I’m a doctor.’

Sienna stopped. The crowd parted. Rhys walked through.

The next few seconds were like a series of still shots in her mind. All she heard was his voice—‘I’m a doctor’—over and over. She pulled herself together, walked closer as the crowd dispersed, parents relieved to be able to deal with their own upset kids now there was someone taking charge.

She looked about twelve, had blood spilling from a gash on her head. Was flat on her back. One of her legs was bent at a hideous angle below her shin. Sienna shut her eyes a moment, knowing that she’d just caught a glimpse of snapped bone. She opened them again, focused on him.

Rhys was on his knees next to her, talking softly. ‘What’s your name, sweetie?’

She looked stricken. He pushed back her hair with the lightest brush of his fingers, compassion clear in his expression, gentle warmth in his smile.

‘Katie.’

‘Katie.’ The child and the white-faced woman on the other side of her, presumably her mother, spoke simultaneously. Sienna understood. When he looked at anyone that way they’d talk. They’d trust—just as she had.

‘Hi, Katie. My name is Dr Rhys Maitland, but you can call me Rhys, OK?’ He was feeling over her body with deft hands. Sienna saw the way he was concentrating on other things while he chatted to her, saw the keen look in his eye. She recognised that look. Assessing. Evaluating. Deciding on his approach. When he got within range of her leg the child cried.

‘OK, sugar. We’re going to get you all fixed up, OK?’

He kept talking to her low and quiet. The low, quiet tones he’d used with her, but they were still audible across the grounds.

‘My friends are going to come and pick us up in the ambulance. Have you ever been in an ambulance before?’

One of the remaining bystanders next to Sienna turned to her. ‘He’s a doctor?’

‘Apparently so.’ Sienna looked back at Rhys. His experience and skill were obvious to everyone.

‘Is he good?’

‘Rhys is good at everything he does.’ Especially lying.

It couldn’t have been much more than five minutes till the ambulance arrived, by which time Rhys clearly had everything under control. He even had the mother smiling, and the girl—weakly through her tears. Sienna clenched her teeth, holding back the grimace. The crew leapt out, bags in hand. One had a toy koala that she gave to the girl to cuddle. The kid buried her face in the soft fur.

The other officer grinned at Rhys. ‘Hey, hero. Can’t keep away from it, can you? Not even on your holidays.’

Aside from a slight wry twist to his lips you wouldn’t have thought Rhys had heard the comment. Instead he focused on introducing them to Katie, then talking through her condition.

Sienna watched as he rapped out information. Cool, calm, still polite but so in control. The ambulance officers quickly getting onto it.

Dr Rhys. Spouting medical jargon and utterly at home in a scene of chaos and carnage.

Clinical.

She’d known he’d held something back from her, but this brought home just how little she knew of him. Had anything in the last few days been real?

Yes. Her stupid heart cried bitterly. Those moments in his arms had been the most real thing she’d ever experienced.

But she pushed it away—sex. That was all it had been. Some stupid game. For whatever reason—and what the hell reason it could have been was utterly beyond her—he’d fabricated his entire life. And the thing was he’d done that right from the very beginning.

Why hadn’t he told her? He’d lied. And at no point had he withdrawn from that lie. The only thing that appeared to be true was that he was on holiday—but from his job in this city, as a damn doctor. Tears of shock and hurt, wounded pride and wounded heart sprang in her eyes. He must have thought she was such a fool. Why, why, why? When she’d been so honest with him?

Rhys worked alongside Melissa and Simon to make Katie comfortable. Grateful it was a team from his own hospital. He’d figured it would be. They were in his catchment area. Hadn’t allowed himself to even think of Sienna until now—needing to focus entirely on stabilising the situation. Needing to keep control of his own careering emotions. He always struggled when it was a younger patient. He always saw Theo’s eyes—the unmistakable plea for help, the light fading. This time he could help. This time it would be OK. But his heart still thundered and he kept the sweats at bay with a level of self-command that had taken some years to perfect.

He knew his control would be even more precarious if he stopped to think about what Sienna was making of it all. He’d been about to make a clean breast of it. Unable to hold back from her, wanting her to know the truth because he couldn’t stand it any more, he had needed to fix it. It had been such a stupid idea in the first place—making up a new name, a different job—and yet, he couldn’t wholly regret it.

But, damn, she’d just found out only half the truth in the most unfortunate way. He finally braved a glance her way. Saw her white face. Saw the furious hurt in her eyes.

He looked away again super quick. He wasn’t free from his duty yet and until he was he couldn’t work on Sienna.

He heard Melissa talking to the mother.

‘Don’t worry. She’s in great hands.’

Rhys flashed a silencing look but Melissa was in full reassurance mode, taking the woman’s arm and leading her to the open doors of the ambulance, her high tones carrying halfway across the park. ‘Your daughter was lucky to have the city’s best ER doctor on a walk in the park today. Dr Rhys is brilliant. She’s going to be just fine.’

‘OK, Melissa.’ Shut up. ‘Load up, we need to get to the hospital.’

‘We can handle it from here if you want, Rhys. You don’t need to come with us.’

‘Of course I do. I need to clean up and do the paperwork anyway.’

He’d never leave a patient. He looked around again before stepping into the back of the ambulance. Wanting to at least offer a smile, call that he’d see her back at the hostel. Knowing it wasn’t enough, but better than nothing. He scanned the crowd.

She was already gone.

CHAPTER NINE

RHYS’ hands itched. He hadn’t got back to the hostel for hours—waylaid by people at the hospital who had seemed to think he’d fallen off the face of the earth because he hadn’t been at work 24/7 as usual. Regardless that he was supposed to be having a holiday. They had seemed stunned that he actually had. Teased that he still couldn’t keep away—not even a full week. If they’d only stopped talking to him he’d have been out of there a lot sooner. For once he hadn’t wanted to be there a second longer than necessary.

There’d been no sign of Sienna when he’d got back to his room. Her stuff had vanished. She hadn’t appeared the rest of the afternoon or evening. He’d patrolled the place, but hadn’t dared enter the dorm room in the middle of the night—imagining all too well the scandalous headlines that might cause. So now, the next day, he was in for the sit and wait. He could hardly raise a polite response to Curtis’ idle chat. But no way was he leaving Reception until he’d seen her. Desperate to explain. Determined to get her over that anger. Disproportionately upset that she was mad at him.

He sighed in frustration. Why should it matter? She was his holiday fling. She’d be out of here in just a few days. But it mattered an awful lot. How the hell could he make it right? He’d been such a fool. He glanced at her day pack parked next to him on the sofa.

Anxiety ate at him. Where the hell was she? He didn’t know if she was on meds. After an op like that a patient was usually on drugs long-term. Had she missed them? He unzipped the bag, needing to check.

A fabric-covered book was at the top. He knew what it was. He concentrated fiercely on his integrity. He’d been enough of a jerk. Not going to be tempted. Not going to pry into her personal thoughts. Much as part of him would love to. Purely to understand.

But as he lifted the journal to look underneath for any medicine packets, a piece of paper fluttered from it to the floor and as he picked it up his eyes automatically scanned it. Computed it. Sealed it in his brain. And acidic disappointment flooded his entire body.

It wasn’t until after two p.m. that she appeared. Flanked by the inevitable army of girls from the hostel. She saw him as soon as she walked into Reception. Her eyes flashed and her cheeks flushed redder than they already were. She looked hot and bothered. Well, she wasn’t nearly as bothered as him.

‘Had a good day?’ He managed to grate the words out, leaping to his feet and intercepting her.

‘I don’t think I’m talking to you. In fact, I don’t think I even know your name—do I?’

‘Rhys. My name is Rhys.’

‘Rhys Monroe?’

‘No.’

‘And are you a builder, Rhys?’

‘No.’

‘Naughty, naughty Rhys,’ Mistress South Africa said.

He ignored her. Held up the day pack in front of Sienna. ‘Want this back?’

Her eyes flashed fire. ‘Yes.’

‘Then come with me now and I’ll give it to you.’

‘You can give it to me here.’

‘No. I’ll give it to you once we’ve sat down and talked about this like adults.’

‘I really don’t see that we have that much to say. You lied. End of story.’

He studied her. Wanting to throw his own accusations but conscious of the greedy interest of the others, conscious of how tired she looked. She seemed to have got thinner overnight. ‘I’m walking out of here right now. If you want this back, you’re coming with me.’

He wanted away from all the observers. He wanted just him and her again. He knew she’d come. Hell, if nothing else, he had her medication—and her passport.

She said nothing. Just turned and marched ahead of him. Waited on the footpath outside for him to point out the direction. Despite his own fury he couldn’t stop the grudging smile inside. What would she do if he told her how beautiful she looked when she was mad?

Sienna sizzled all the way along the street. Fuming. She’d had an awful night’s sleep, and an even more miserable day trying to take in some exciting tourist stuff, but all her mind would let her see was the sight of Rhys in full doctor mode. She replayed the moment of realisation over and over as she searched for reasons—consistently failing to figure answers.

That was why she was walking with him. She wanted answers and that was all she was after. She didn’t want anything more from him now—right? Certainly not any more of his hot body.

Except that was all she could think about right this very second. How different he seemed. As gorgeous as the day before but now even more energy bounced off him. He exuded an aura of barely leashed passion. It had her on edge. It had her excited. In turn, that made her even madder.

He stopped a few yards along from the hostel.

‘What’s this?’

‘My car.’

She stared at the shiny black convertible. ‘Car? You brought your car on holiday with you? All the way from…where was it you said you were from again?’ She raised her brows at him—attempting a look of cool inquisition but any faux haughtiness evaporated at his angry expression. How dared he look so cross when he was the one who’d fibbed his way through the last four days?

‘We’re not here to discuss my car, Sienna. Get in.’

Her mouth dropped. ‘Ever heard of the word please?’

‘Get in. Now.’

If he didn’t have her most precious things in his hand, she’d walk away this instant. If he didn’t have a hold on something even more precious of hers she’d be running like an Olympian. Then again, given he actually had all this precious stuff of hers, she should be flying.

Instead, she got in the passenger seat and slammed the door behind her.

He started the engine and drove. She had no idea where. But after half an hour of simmering silence he pulled into a park and got out of the car.

He walked ahead of her, brandishing her bag. She marched after him. Quite happy by now to give him one hell of a piece of her mind because he was really, really, asking for it.

He turned into a doorway. She blinked as she stepped out of the dazzling sunlight and into a gloomy interior. They were in a small bar. Guitar music played softly. Spanish. He led her to a table at the front, with booth seats ninety degrees to the window. He didn’t sit, just gestured for her to and then, not bothering to wait for the waitress, went straight to the bar and ordered.

Sienna sat, studiously stared out the window, pretended she wasn’t remotely interested in what he was doing.

Two cool beers in long glasses were plonked onto the table. He slid into the bench seat across from hers.

Much as she wanted to she couldn’t refuse the drink—parched. She picked it up and drank deeply. He did the same. Half-empty glasses returned to the table with equally violent bangs.

‘You lied to me.’

He sat back, seeming to relax a little. ‘Yes.’

‘You made up a name. You made up a whole story about yourself.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you think that’s OK?’

‘Of course not. But what about you? What about your list?’ Scathing to say the least.

She sat up. ‘What about it?’

‘What about number one on your list?’

Blood pounded through every vein. ‘You read my journal?’ She watched, immobile and enraged, as with calm movements he unzipped her bag. ‘Hand that over this instant. That is not your property. You have no right to read that.’

‘I didn’t. This page fell out when I opened your pack.’

‘Why were you going through my pack?’

‘I was worried. I wanted to see if you had any medication you’d missed.’

She stopped, jaw dropping; the world she saw was suddenly stained red. Dr Rhys. Interfering already.

‘Anyway, so what if I read it? You wrote it to be read. That’s why people write things down—so they get read.’

‘Rubbish,’ she snapped. ‘Writing goals down helps make them real. Helps you realise them.’

‘And that’s what this was? Some goal?’ He picked up the page and read in cutting tones. ‘“1. To have wild, abandoned sex with someone who doesn’t know about my heart condition.”’

‘And?’ With superwoman strength she hid the cringe. OK, it sounded trashy read aloud, but so what? What business was it of his? It was a fantasy, for heaven’s sake. One she’d never imagined would ever actually happen.

‘So anyone would have done? You just wanted the experience of being with someone who didn’t know about you. Well, lucky me. Right place, right time. Good thing I got to the table when I did or would you have gone for Tim, or Gaz or some other sucker on the dance floor? Anyone so long as it was dark and he could satisfy you?’

Incensed, she threw it back on him. ‘Well, as I remember it you weren’t exactly complaining. Don’t make out like I’ve used you any more than you’ve used me.’ She choked the words out. ‘Don’t you dare come across all holier than thou. It’s not like you were out looking for a serious relationship either. Were you? You can’t even tell me your real name. For days you’ve been lying to me. I was up front a hell of a lot sooner than you.’ And, no, of course she wouldn’t have gone for Tim or Gaz or anyone else in the whole entire world. Because she’d never felt that instant, unstoppable attraction to another before. Not that she was about to tell him that. How dared he judge her? ‘It was a one-night stand. That was all either of us intended.’

‘How do you know?’

Astounded, she stared. ‘How can you say that? We’d known each other thirty seconds before we had sex. Conversed on nothings for a minute max. Relationships don’t start that way, Rhys. And we’re certainly missing out on the fundamentals of any kind of relationship—like honesty, like trust.’ Utterly defensive, she stormed at him. Of course it had meant more and secretly hadn’t she dreamed? Stupidly. But now she was out to salvage what little pride she had left. She’d downplay it—how it had felt and what it had meant—because he hadn’t even been honest with her about his name.

Besides, she needed to protect herself. Serious relationships weren’t for her, remember? She couldn’t offer happy ever after to anyone. She might not have the ever and after.

He jerked, sitting bolt upright, glaring at her, looking as if he was about to launch a blistering attack. His eyes glowed green but his jaw clamped. For a long moment he sat rigid. Finally, vehemently, he threw her words back at her. ‘What we did wasn’t sleazy.’

She met his gaze then, held it for a moment, and then they both looked to the glasses on the table.

‘OK.’ He spoke more softly. ‘So neither of us has been entirely honest.’

She looked back at him, anger refuelled. ‘I might have had secrets but I have been honest. You’re the one who hasn’t. Why lie? What have you got to hide?’ She gave a mocking laugh. ‘Do tell me, who are you really, Rhys?’

‘Here are your tapas, Rhys.’ The waitress stood with a tray covered in tiny dishes, her glance flicking between the two of them—her attempt to maintain a bland expression a complete failure.

Sienna turned to the woman. ‘What’s his surname?’

‘I’m sorry?’

‘His surname. What is it?’

‘Sienna.’

‘Maitland,’ the waitress replied just as Rhys interjected.

Sienna sat back in the seat and stared at him through narrowed eyes.

‘Thanks, Tracey, that’s fine.’ Rhys smiled at the waitress, who was looking at Sienna as if she were some crazy lady. She’d set the dishes across the table and given them a plate each and after Rhys’ words she turned and practically ran to the bar where the other waitress was lounging, watching.

Rhys stared back at Sienna. Eyes hard, the glow gone. ‘Eat. You need it.’

She needed answers more. ‘Who are you and why did you lie to me?’

‘Stuff some chorizo into your mouth and I’ll answer. Maybe then I’ll have a chance of finishing before you interrupt me.’

Mutinously she picked up the fork and stabbed the sausage several times. His lips twitched.

He picked up an olive and, ignoring his own etiquette advice, put it in his mouth and talked at the same time. ‘My name is Rhys Maitland and I’m a doctor. I work in the ER department of the hospital down the road and I’ve lived in Sydney all my life.’

She swallowed. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that at the start?’

Rhys thought about his response. No matter how he framed this he was going to come across as a jerk. Then again, that might be an improvement on her current perception of him. ‘I just wanted to escape.’

‘What on earth have you got to escape from?’

He decided to give her the easy answer—the only answer he’d be able to tell anyone. ‘I’m the heir of a multi-million sportswear empire.’

‘What?’

‘I’m worth millions. I have a trust fund I inherited from my grandfather and I’ll inherit most of the company shares from my father. My family is…well-known in Sydney. We’re in the society pages, my cousin’s wedding was in the weekly women’s magazines, that sort of thing.’

She looked blank. ‘Are you telling me you’re some sort of celebrity, Rhys?’