Love Islands…The Collection. Jane Porter

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beach on another island chosen by the captain, and it was then that a wave of tiredness hit her head-on.

      ‘I feel shattered,’ she said, stifling a yawn as they headed back to the submarine. ‘Is that normal?’

      Malachi grinned. ‘Completely. First dives always take it out of you.’

      She sighed. ‘I think I might just have a little lie-down. What are you going to do?’

      His eyes gleamed. ‘I’m going to have a little play at being a submarine captain, but I promise I’ll wake you in a bit.’

      After he’d left, Addie took a shower and then lay down on the bed, closing her eyes with relief. Letting the soporific hum of the engine wash over her, she breathed out softly...

      Waking some time later, she picked up her phone and stared groggily at the screen, frowning as she saw the time. She had slept for three hours! Sitting up, she pushed back the sheet—and then her eyes widened. Lying across the covers at the end of the bed was the most beautiful dress she had ever seen. It was full-length and blue, the same blue as the centre of a flame, and beside it was a pair of slightly darker high-heeled court shoes.

      Heart pounding, she scrambled off the bed and picked up the dress. Slipping it over her head, she zipped herself up. It was cut into a deep V at the front, and the slit running up the side practically reached her pelvic bone. But it felt divine on, like a second silken skin. Grabbing hold of the wardrobe to steady herself, she pushed her feet into the shoes then turning, she took a step forward and stared at herself in the full-length mirror.

      Was that really her? It took her several nervous glances to accept that it was. The dress fitted beautifully, but...

      She glanced doubtfully down at her plunging cleavage.

      ‘No, it’s not.’

      Her head snapped up, her body tightening automatically at the sound of Malachi’s voice. Rooted to the floor, gripped by equal amounts of fear and longing, she stared helplessly at his reflection in the mirror. He was standing behind her in the doorway, wearing a beautifully cut dinner jacket, his white shirt unbuttoned at the neck, a bow tie hanging loose around the collar. In one hand he was holding a bottle of champagne, in the other a pair of long-stemmed glasses. He looked impossibly sexy and irresistibly glamorous.

      ‘It’s not too low. That’s what you were thinking, wasn’t it?’

      She nodded, suddenly too shy to speak. He walked towards her slowly and her heart gave a jolt as he reached out and gently slid his palm around her waist, forcing her to face him.

      His face was serious, his eyes dark and focused. ‘You look beautiful, sweetheart. Far too beautiful for a two-bit hustler like me! And that dress fits you to perfection.’

      She swallowed, trying to play it cool. ‘Thank you. And thank you for getting it for me. But how did you know my size?’

      He smiled—a sexy, curling smile that made her heart pound so hard she thought it would burst through her chest.

      ‘It wasn’t hard,’ he said softly. ‘I’ve been giving your body an awful lot of thought over the last few days.’

      There was a tense, pulsing silence. Addie gazed up at him helplessly, the softness of his voice as much as the implication in his words playing havoc with her nerves.

      Finally she managed to pull herself together. ‘You did a good job. And you look amazing too,’ she said hoarsely. ‘I love that you haven’t done up your tie.’

      He grinned. ‘I’d love to pretend it was a conscious fashion choice, but sadly it’s just down to my incompetence. I did, however, manage to lay my hands on a bottle of champagne, so hopefully you won’t spend the entire evening wondering how you got stuck with a loser like me!’

      A loser! Addie gazed at him. She doubted Malachi had lost at anything—ever. She, on the other hand, would lose all self-control if they didn’t leave the bedroom soon.

      ‘Here!’ He held out the glasses and, popping the cork, he poured the champagne. ‘To the high seas! And sunken treasure.’ He tapped his glass lightly against hers. ‘Now, let’s eat. I am starving.’

      The meal was delicious: a starter of burrata salad followed by taglierini with shaved white truffles and a chocolate fondant for dessert.

      ‘I’m so glad it’s not fish,’ Addie said, glancing out of the window at the darkened ocean. ‘What if they’d looked in and seen us?’

      Malachi grinned. He had taken off his jacket and his tanned muscular skin was perfectly offset by the pure white of his shirt.

      ‘I think they’d be pleased you weren’t eating them. It’s a fish-eat-fish world out there.’

      Laughing, she pushed away her empty bowl and took a sip from her wine glass.

      ‘What are you thinking?’

      ‘Nothing really!’ Turning her head, she saw he was watching her, his face in the candlelight somehow softer, less guarded. ‘Just how much the children would love this. You don’t mind if I show them a photo or two, do you?’ She gave him a small, tight smile. ‘Otherwise they might not believe me.’

      He shook his head, frowning slightly. ‘No, of course not.’

      ‘Thank you.’ The easy atmosphere of moments earlier seemed to have disappeared. Confused, suddenly on edge herself, she lifted her chin. ‘Sorry to bring up work. It just popped into my head.’

      There was a short, strained silence.

      ‘It’s not just work, though, is it? For you, I mean.’

      She looked up at him, startled. He was looking at her, his expression an odd blend of curiosity and appraisal.

      ‘You really care about those children.’

      ‘Yes. I do.’ She was shocked at how fierce she sounded. ‘They deserve it. Some of them—a lot of them—have such difficult lives, and they’re so brave.’

      ‘They’re lucky to have you championing them.’ He held her gaze. ‘I can’t think of many people I’d rather have by my side, watching my back.’

      She held her breath. Then why had he pushed her away? She’d been by his side, watching his back. When all the time she should have been watching her own.

      She shrugged. ‘I’m not a saint. I get a lot back from them.’

      Malachi stared at her. In that dress it would be difficult for any woman to look like a saint. He wondered if she had any idea how beautiful she was. How sexy. He wanted her so much. But for the first time in his life sex didn’t seem that important. Not as important as hearing her story.

      ‘Like what?’ Leaning forward, he topped up her glass, then his.

      Her face softened. ‘Like having fun. And a purpose. After my accident I couldn’t imagine doing anything with music. It hurt just thinking about what I’d lost. I was so miserable.

      ‘So what changed?’ His hand tightened around his glass. He

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