the least, at what he’d been about to confess.
She knew what it was. The jolt into puberty that a boy’s first wet dream represented.
The unspoken words hung between them, creating the most astonishing sexual awareness Susie had ever encountered.
Oh, help! The heavy tropical darkness surrounding them was suddenly devoid of oxygen. Closing in on them like a blanket.
Wrapping them up.
Both of them.
The loud night song of the frogs, the rustle of small creatures and the flap of wings from owls and bats vanished. Susie could hear a faint humming sound.
The sexual energy crackling around her?
More like the pulsing of her own blood, which had quickened rather noticeably. That would also explain the flush she could feel colouring her cheeks. Thankfully, it was too dark for Alex to have noticed.
She drained her wineglass. ‘I’d better go.’
Good grief! She had to clear her throat to get rid of an embarrassingly obvious huskiness. She scrambled to her feet. ‘It’s a big day tomorrow, with the opening and everything. Did you get your speech written?’
‘No.’ Alex followed her example and stood up. ‘I’d better get on with it now.’ He also cleared his throat. ‘Sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I didn’t mean to…’
What? Embarrass her by talking about things normally kept private?
Or make her achingly aware of just how attractive she found him?
Susie shook the thought away with a flick of her head. ‘It’s fine,’ she interrupted dismissively. ‘Not a problem.’ She stepped back as Alex took a step towards her. An unconscious reaction, as though her body knew there was some kind of magnetic pull going on and the only sensible thing to do was to stay out of the danger zone.
‘Good luck with the speech.’ Susie headed for the steps. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow.’
The sighting didn’t come as soon as she might have expected.
Or hoped for?
Susie had to give herself a good mental shake due to the level of disappointment she experienced on finding the Vavunis cabin deserted at 8:00 a.m. the next morning.
Even being careful not to make any new assumptions about Alex, it seemed unlikely that he would have chosen to share the noisy, crowded camp dining room in order to have breakfast with Stella. More likely, they had taken a cart back to the hotel to sample the astounding array of food available in the main restaurant or something simpler in one of the cafés that had provided the superb cup of coffee Susie had indulged in.
They could easily have gone past her unnoticed. Susie had left her bicycle in the rack outside the medical centre, choosing to walk along the beach, carrying her sandals so that she could enjoy the wash of the gentle waves. She’d been careful not to wade out too far and dampen the only really decent pair of shorts she owned.
The denim cut-offs of yesterday had been discarded in favour of these sand-coloured cargo shorts that came almost to her knees. No skimpy singlet top, either. In order to look as professional as possible, Susie had donned her brand-new ‘official’Crocodile Creek Camp T-shirt. It was white and featured a picture of the latest camp mascot—a brown toy dog that had arrived with Beth a few weeks ago. It had spaniel’s ears, a top hat, black boots and a white-topped cane. With the flick of a switch, he could tap dance to the tune of ‘Putting On The Ritz’ and he never failed to make children laugh. The real camp dog, Garf, was in danger of being toppled from his position of leading the popularity stakes.
Susie had hoped it would make Alex smile. It certainly made a lot of the children smile when she went into the dining hall.
‘We want Ritzy,’ a small girl told her. ‘Can he dance on our table today?’
‘That depends,’ said the aide in charge. ‘He will if our group is the first to finish breakfast and we all remember to put our dishes onto the trolley.’
Susie was scanning the room. There were lots of adults—parents who were here with their children, camp leaders, instructors for special activities and medical personnel like the nurse Benita Green, who was here with the group of children suffering from cancer.
There was no sign of Alex but Stella was at a nearby table. Sitting beside Jamie, no less.
‘Hi, Stella!’ Susie was deliberately casual. ‘What have you done with your dad?’
‘He’s gone to meet some guy from the medical centre. That one in the wheelchair.’
‘Dr Wetherby.’
‘Yeah. They’re having breakfast and a meeting. I’m supposed to go and have lunch with him at the hotel.’
‘That’s cool. We’ll have finished our session well before that.’
Stella shook her head. ‘I don’t want to go to lunch. I’m going to the beach.’
‘I’m helping with surfing lessons for some of the older kids,’ Jamie said. ‘Not that there’s anything like a real wave up here, but they can practise trying to stand on the boards and maybe catch a tiny wave. Hey, Star, you could have a go. Body-surfing, anyway.’ He spoke as though missing part of a limb was simply an inconvenience rather than an obstacle. Susie beamed at him.
‘I might just watch,’ Stella muttered. ‘Dr Miranda asked if I could help judge the sandcastle competition the little kids are having later.’
‘Let’s get your session done now,’ Susie suggested. ‘I need to get back to the medical centre myself soon and see how the sick kids are getting on.’
Stella was using her crutches as they left the dining hall but Susie was pleased to see she wasn’t putting much weight on them. An insurance policy, perhaps?
‘I like the way you’re walking,’ she said. ‘And that you came to breakfast and sat with Jamie. You really are a bit of a star, aren’t you?’ Susie smiled at the girl hopping beside her. ‘I think I might start calling you that myself.’
‘Jamie came to sit with me,’ Stella confided. ‘He said he was worried I was getting flu or something, like the other kids, and that was why I hadn’t shown up last night.’
‘What did you tell him?’
‘That I just had a guts ache.’ Stella sounded defensive.
‘True enough. Did…um…your dad say anything this morning?’
‘No. He was really good.’ Stella sounded surprised now. ‘I thought he’d be mad at me for swearing at him. Did you tell him not to be?’
‘No. He probably understands more than you think. Or maybe he’s just a nice guy.’
Stella snorted. ‘He’s just Dad. Hey, what’s the hotel like?’
‘Gorgeous.
