seen what he wanted in her. And was Harry really dangerous, or was that a false perception on her part?
She watched him emerge from the villa and stroll across the deck towards her, carrying a platter of oysters, a bottle of wine and two fresh glasses. He’d tucked a white towel around his waist. The sky had darkened and the flickering light of the torches he’d lit at the corners of the deck was not bright enough for her to see the expression in his eyes. Was he still angry with her?
‘Shall I get out?’ she asked.
‘Not if you don’t want to,’ he answered with a careless shrug. ‘I can serve you just as easily there.’
‘The water’s lovely.’
‘Then stay.’
He set the platter on the deck, sat on the edge of the pool and proceeded to open the bottle of wine and fill the glasses.
‘I do like oysters, Harry. Thank you for remembering,’ she said, hoping to erase the aphrodisiac remark.
He handed her the glass of white wine with a droll little smile. ‘I remembered your sister saying you loved chilli mud crab, too. I know a restaurant in Port Douglas that specialises in that dish so I had it cooked for you and it’s waiting in the microwave to be heated up when you want it.’
She stared at him, horribly shamed by his caring and generosity when she had treated him so meanly, using him as a distraction, even to going to bed with him in this villa because of Michael bringing Lucy here.
‘I’m sorry,’ she blurted out.
He frowned. ‘Sorry about what?’
‘My whole attitude towards you. It’s been uncaring and bitchy and...and soured by things that you weren’t even a part of. I haven’t been fair to you, Harry. I’ve never been fair to you and I don’t know why you’re being so nice to me because I don’t deserve it.’ Tears suddenly welled into her eyes and she quickly tried to smear them away with the back of her hand. ‘I’m sorry. I’m all messed up and I can’t help myself.’
‘It’s okay,’ he said soothingly. ‘Just take a few deep breaths and let it all go. Life is a bitch sometimes. The trick is to get past the bad bits. I’ve been trying to help you do that, Ellie.’
Ellie... The soft caring way her childhood name rolled off his tongue brought another spurt of tears to her eyes and screwed her up inside, stirring up the craven wish for someone to take care of her. She’d been taking care of herself and Lucy for so long, she needed someone to simply be there for her. But she couldn’t expect Harry to keep doing that. She didn’t know how far his kindness would stretch. What she could do was bask in it for a little while.
It took quite a few deep breaths to bring herself under control enough to manage a smile at him. ‘Thank you for helping me.’
‘You do deserve to have nice things done for you,’ he said seriously. ‘Everyone does. It makes the world a happier place. My mother taught me that. She was brilliant at it.’
She sipped the wine he had poured for her, remembering Sarah Pickard’s description of Yvette Finn—a sunny nature, radiating a joy in life that infected everyone around her. ‘Sarah said you’re like your mother,’ she remarked, starting to reappraise the man in a completely different light to how she had previously perceived him.
He gave a wry shake of his head. ‘A hard act to follow, but I try.’
‘Tell me about her,’ she said impulsively, wanting to understand where Harry was coming from.
He made an indecisive gesture. ‘Where to start?’
‘Start with how your father met her,’ she encouraged.
He laughed. ‘In hospital. He’d broken his leg and Mum was the only nurse who wouldn’t let him be grumpy.’
‘She was an ordinary common nurse?’ It surprised her, having imagined that Franklyn Finn would have married some beautiful accomplished socialite.
Harry shook his head. ‘I don’t think anyone would have said she was ordinary. All the patients loved her, my father included. He always considered himself extremely privileged that she learned to love him back. It took him quite some time to win her.’
‘She didn’t like him at first?’
‘It wasn’t that. She wasn’t sure about how she would fit into his life. Dad was a seriously driven guy. In the end, she made up a set of rules for how their marriage could work and he had to promise to keep to them.’
‘Did he?’
‘Never wavered from them. She was the light of his life and he was never going to let that light go out.’ He grimaced. ‘In a way, I guess it was a kind fate that they died together. They were so tied to each other.’
It must have been a wonderful marriage, Elizabeth thought, wishing she could have one like it. Her own mother hadn’t known much happiness in hers and the end of her life had certainly not been kind, though she and Lucy had done their best to ease the pain of it. ‘I always thought Lucy could have made a great nurse,’ she murmured, remembering how good she had been at cheering up their mother.
‘She could have become one if she’d wanted to,’ Harry remarked.
‘No’ slipped out before she could stop it.
‘Why not? She could have gone back to school....’
‘Lucy was never good at exams,’ she prevaricated. Her dyslexia made it impossible for her to pass them. She was smart enough to pick up anything as an apprentice and she had a great memory, but examinations that required reading and writing within a set time simply couldn’t be done. ‘I don’t think she had the head for study after Mum died,’ she added to put him off pursuing the point. ‘She was only seventeen and she took it hard, Harry.’
‘Understandable,’ he said sympathetically.
She sipped some more of the wine and eyed the platter of oysters. ‘I think I’m ready to eat now.’
He laughed. ‘Help yourself.’
‘I’ll get out first.’
* * *
Harry quickly rose to his feet, grabbing a towel to dry her off and wrap around her. She didn’t try to take it from him and didn’t protest his action when he finished up tucking it around her waist, leaving her breasts bare. ‘They’re too beautiful to cover up,’ he said with a smile.
‘I’m glad you think so,’ she said a little shyly.
Exhilaration zinged through Harry. She’d dropped all the barriers. There was no rejection in her eyes, no guard up against him. And it remained like that for the rest of the evening, no bitchy barbs slung at him, no hiding what she thought or felt about anything, no shutting him out.
She might not have forgotten all about Mickey but she had definitely put his brother aside and was actively taking pleasure in finding connections with him—connections beyond the purely physical. The sexual chemistry was still there, of course, simmering between them, heightened by their newly intimate
